Hawke's POV

The morning after my failed attempt at partying with college girls, I went for an extra-long run. I put in my headphones and didn't stop until I blew through my entire Florence + the Machine discography. I welcomed the routine, using it to push away my nerves from the night before. I wasn't accustomed to being flirted with, especially by such an attractive woman. Usually I was the one trying to make casual conversation with someone, then fumbling and saying something really geeky. I had no interest in the opposite sex, but my own sex seemed to have almost no interest in me, either. I became numb to the blank stares cute girls gave when I mentioned ewoks, daleks, or cylons. Sure, I talked big game, and I was unstoppable on the field, but when it came to women, I was useless. Walking back to my room in the girl's dormitory, I looked down at my arm. I hadn't washed Isabela's phone number off yet, but it was time for my post-run shower. I sat on my bed and pulled out my cell phone, saving the number to my contact list.

"Good morning Red!" My roommate chirped from the doorway. Merrill MacDougal was a peppy little (like, 5'4" little) Plant Sciences major. She had short black hair, not too dissimilar from mine, and big green eyes that shined whenever she smiled. She was dressed in her usual skinny jeans, green tank top, and light green scarf. She was a dainty and pale thing, and her pointy ears almost suggested some fantastical lineage. Torchwood was in Wales... Hmm… "I must have been asleep when you came in last night. How was your run?" She tilted her head and sat down on her bunk. Her side of the room was all rainbows, butterflies, and sketches of flowers. My side was all black and red, with posters from my favorite movies and games.

"It was fine, Daisy." I smiled as I took long gulps from my water bottle.

"You've got numbers on your arm." She pointed to my forearm, big eyes widened with curiosity.

"Oh, yeah. Stopped by a party last night. Some chick gave me her number." I shrugged, trying my best not to blush. 'Some chick?' Who are you fooling?

The Princess of Innocence just smiled and scratched at the tip of her nose. "At least one of us is making friends! I assumed we'd still be loners this year too."

"Don't get your hopes up. I'm not sure how sober she was." I laid out some clothes and grabbed my towel off of the hook in my closet. "Anyway, I'm going to take a shower and wash this off."

"Oh, alright. I was just stopping by before going back to the gardens. I left my notebook." She precariously reached for the small pad sitting on her desk, and I quickly cut her off, handing it to her before she could fall off of her bunk. I saved my roommate from many such incidents. A few weeks prior, I had to stop the woman from stepping in front of a bus. Twice.

I shook my head. "Meet you for dinner?"

"Yes, of course." Merrill nodded sharply and took her notebook.

I grabbed my clothes, towel, and soap, then headed directly for the shower room. Thankfully, I was the only one using it at 10am on a Saturday morning. Everyone else in the suite was probably asleep, hung over, or in someone else's bed. I took my time and enjoyed the cold water before scrubbing hard at my arm. But the phone number didn't come off so easily, and ended up just fading. I quickly gave up, my forearm already red from the excess friction. Feeling thoroughly clean, I brushed my teeth and left the shower room.

"Morning Hawke." A voice called from down the hall. I turned to face Aveline. I met Aveline Vallen on my first day at the university. We came from the same state, but that is where the similarities ended. The butch red-head was the same height, but made up completely of bulky muscles and freckles. She was a junior this year, and the person who convinced me to join the rugby club. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail, and wore long rugby sweats and a hoodie. She was the perfect prop. She could bench press half of the team if she wanted to. Give the woman a suit of armor and she could probably take down a castle. Or protect one from a zombie horde. Come with me if you want to leeeve.

"'Sup Ave?" I asked casually as I leaned against the hallway and waited for the woman to close the distance.

"Not much. Obviously less than you." She frowned and grabbed my arm. "Is that a phone number?"

I took back my captured limb. "Yes." I answered with a 'no shit' expression.

I earned a scowl, the ginger woman's jaw set. "Whose?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I jested as I walked back to my empty room.

The woman-shaped battering ram stood against the open doorway. "I could run a background check."

"Shouldn't you be out ticketing foreign exchange students?" I chuckled and attempted to sort my hair.

"I have the day off, for once. Figured we could run drills."

"Sorry, big girl. Not today. I just got done running like 10 miles and I have a paper to start."

"Oh, come on, you have the time. And the energy." The redhead shook her head and frowned as I sat down in my desk chair.

"Go get laid, Ave." I slighted as I pulled out my government textbook and turned to the proper page.

The big girl sighed, her head leaned against the molding of the door. "It always comes back to that, doesn't it?"

"You bash skulls in for fun, and took a job of authority just for the thrill of it. You're the sociology major, but I'm pretty sure that's textbook sexual frustration." I pulled out my laptop and booted it up.

"First, I hardly think Campus Security is considered 'authority'. I don't even carry a weapon. Second, I don't currently need a man in my life, let alone in my pants."

"Well, you have a badge. And no one said it had to be a man." I chuckled, a grin forming at the corners of my mouth. That'll shut her up. It always did. Everyone on the rugby team swore up and down that Man-Hands was in the closet, but anyone who brought it up somehow ended up injured during routine practice.

Aveline basically grunted, "Dinner?"

"Yep. Daisy too." I said without turning around. My teammate groaned and shut the door behind her. I sat and stared at the blank word document on my screen, then looked down at the cell phone that sat idly by on my desk. Just text her. I picked it up and began to type out a message. With a frown, I backspaced it all before starting again. After a few tries, my finger loomed over the send button. Don't be such a pussy. She hit on you! I took a deep breath and pressed down.

"It's Hawke from the party last night. I just wanted to make sure your DD got you home safely last night." I set the phone back down and read a few paragraphs from my textbook, scribbling some notes on a pad. I nearly had a heart attack when my phone vibrated. I gulped as I unlocked the screen.

"Oh, yes. I was just thinking about you, actually. How's the paper coming along? :) " I looked up at the blinking cursor on my laptop.

"It's not." I sighed. I hardly had time to set the phone down before it went off again.

"What's the subject?" I smiled and typed a reply. "Marxism. I'm a History/Government double major."

"And a rugby player? You're a glutton for punishment." I didn't even bother to ask if she was a student last night! I was too busy staring at her tits to think straight. Dumb jock. I slapped myself on the forehead.

"You do go to Kirkwall, right?" I crossed my fingers and hoped she wasn't an undercover cop or something equally insulting.

"Yep. I've changed my major half a dozen times within CAS, and I've taken courses in just about everything. Except history or government. Too boring for me. I think I'm technically a Chem major right now." That figures. A woman like that couldn't spend too much time on any one subject.

"That's good. Marxism doesn't exactly get my blood pumping." I smirked at myself.

"How many pages?" I blinked at the screen, wondering why she was so curious. Maybe she is undercover.

"Six." I typed hesitantly.

The response was near immediate. "Get through two and I'll take you to lunch. Around 1:30 sound good?" I stared at my phone. Did she just ask me out? No, that was totally a demand. She's telling me that I'm going to lunch with her.

"You don't know where my dorm is," was all I could say. Do I have a stalker? Am I that cool?

"Intuition says the all girls dorm." There's no way she's into me. She's got to be an undercover cop. Must think I'm a drug dealer or something, selling E to sorority sisters. That's the only possible answer. I caught myself drooling as my mind flashed images of Isabela in a skimpy police uniform. My screen dimmed and broke the train of thought before it left the station.

I picked up my phone and typed a response. "You're not a serial killer or something, are you?" I wanted to laugh at myself, but it was a probable scenario, considering my usual luck with women. Plus, she really didn't look like police.

"Survive Karl until lunch and you might find out. ;) " I practically slammed my phone down and shoved my face in my textbook. Two pages. Easy enough. But with Isabela on my mind, it was an uphill battle.