Disclaimer: I don't own Zelda, or New York City. That'd be cool if I did. Oh, well.

Link paced nervously in the hallway outside his apartment, beads of perspiration sliding down his face and onto the scarcely carpeted floor. Every five minutes he looked at his faux silver watch that he bought from Wal-Mart for five bucks, and the hands never seemed to move. Link blinked and realized that they actually hadn't moved.

"Curse you, Wal-Mart," he said, " Thou hast failed me yet again."

"Uh, Link," Zelda said, stepping outside her door, "Are you okay?" She must've been a light stepper. He hadn't even heard her open the door.

He sighed. His sense of stupidity reared its fat, ugly head yet again. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sometimes I just slip into archaic speech for the variety. Speaking normally is so last century." She laughed a beautiful laugh that echoed of chimes.

"Link, you're silly," she said, still giggling, " Nice outfit, by the way. Very dashing."

He looked down at his button-down white, silk shirt, untucked of course, and his baggy, cargo pants.

"Yes, I know. I'm just a dashing sort of guy, I suppose. Nice outfit to you as well." She beamed at him.

"You really think so?" she said, pleased. She was wearing a pink top and a light, white skirt.

"Absolutely," he said honestly, " Are you ready to go?"

"Yup," she said, turning back to lock her door, " Whenever you are."

They walked to the elevator in companionable silence and Link used the silence as an opportunity to reflect on the events of the past week. After that Monday, they hadn't really gotten the chance to learn more about each other. As he helped her get settled in her new apartment, she told him a little about herself. Her name was Zelda Harkinian, and she had moved to New York from Boston. Her family was British, hence the unusual last name, but she had been born and raised in America. She had just graduated from college with a Bachelor's Degree in Psychology and was trying to find a job while working on her Master's. Her father was in business, she hadn't really said what exactly he did, and her mother had died several years ago.

She said that her mother's death had caused him to start spending all of his time working, and never paid much attention to her after that. It was a sad story, but he knew what she was going through. He had been raised by his widowed mother after his dad had eaten his Glock, after all.

The elevator's doors sliding open snapped him out of his thoughts, and the two of them walked through the lobby and into the parking garage, eventually winding up at his oddly unsilver, '00 Silverado. The paint had worn to a dull grey color, and he didn't have enough money to get it repainted. Hell, he'd had to go several days without any groceries besides TV dinners just to have enough money to take Zelda out to eat somewhere nice.

"Well, hop in," he told her, unlocking the door. She obliged him by doing so, and before long, they were out on the street of New York, heading towards their destination.

"So, where are we eating at?" she asked, shifting around in her seat, getting more comfortable. He smiled slightly in silent pride.

"Olive Garden." She sighed forlornly.

"There goes my diet," she muttered, "I love Olive Garden, and I can never help myself there. It's all so good!" She said the last in an almost dreamy tone.

"So, you like Italian food?" he said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Are you kidding?" she exclaimed, "It's my favorite!" She practically glowed in anticipation, which brought a smile to his face. "Of course," she continued, "I don't get the chance to eat there much, mainly because I can't afford it at the moment."

"I hear you," Link agreed, stopping at a traffic light that was glowing a sullen red. She turned her head to look at him.

"So, what are you doing for a job right now?" she asked.

"Uh," he said, lightly pressing on the gas when the light changed colors, "I'm a, uh, security guard right now." She nodded to herself absently, he thought, processing this information.

"What did you major in?" she questioned, leaning over to turn the radio, which was currently screaming Metallica's "Master of Puppets", down.

"History," he said, switching lanes as they entered the interstate, "Specifically, pre-Roman Europe and the Celtic people. I wanted to be a professor at the University here, but they didn't have a position open. So, I took what I could find."

"How did you get a Master's so quickly?" she asked, amazed.

"Advanced courses," he said, embarrassed, "Most of what they taught in the standard classes I already knew, so they just put me on an accelerated program. I was working on earning my doctorate when my scholarships ran out. I only had a few weeks left in the courses."

"Wow," she breathed, "That has to suck."

"Moderately," he agreed lightly.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, watching him intently through the darkness of the cab.

"Survive," he said shortly, pulling onto an exit and taking a right, "I really don't have any plans beyond that at this point." There was a silence in the truck for several minutes.

"Well, do you know a lot of people here?" she said, changing the subject, much to his relief.

"A few," he admitted, trying to find the Olive Garden, "I have a few really good friends, and several acquaintances. Have you had the chance to meet anybody yet?"

"Just you," she said quietly. She laughed suddenly with a tinge of bitterness. "Haven't had time to meet anybody. Been searching for a job all week."

"I know how that goes," he said sympathetically, spotting the Olive Garden in the distance, "How's that been going?"

"Horrible," she said, " The only job that seems to be available for a woman working her way through college is exotic dancer." Link wisely decided not to comment on that.

"Here we are," he said, forcing cheerfulness into his voice, "I can smell the food all the way from here."

"Link," Zelda said quietly as they parked in a parking spot that seemed several miles from the restaurant. He forgot how crowded Olive Garden could be around dinner time.

"Yes, Zelda?" he said, still looking at the distance in dismay.

"I want to thank you for dinner tonight," she said in a small voice, "It was really kind of you to invite me."

"Hey, now," he said, smiling at her, "You're the one doing me the favor. It would've been another night with only myself to keep me company. And to be honest with you, I'm not that nice of a person to hang around too much. You saved me from another evening by myself." She smiled back at him, that gorgeous smile that multiplied her already incredible beauty hundredfold.

"I don't know about that," she said, "You've been delightful company so far."

"I'm on my best behavior," he laughed, "Just wait till you get to know me a little better." Her smile got bigger.

"I can hardly wait," she said, laughing along with him.

"Come on," he said, nudging her playfully with his elbow, "It's going to take half the night to walk to the restaurant, it looks like. We might as well get started."

"Okay," she agreed as they exited the truck and walked into the night.

A/N: Okay, I'm going to end this chapter here. The dinner is going to be its own chapter. There's going to be a tad bit of conflict in the next chapter, so make sure you read. Anyway, R&R, and good night.