A/N: Oh, I am so bad. Heh heh. Anyway, I should have given you all sufficient time to read the seventh and final Harry Potter before posting this. Let's face it, my story really can't compare with JK, so I figured I'd wait until most people had read the book before posting this chapter.
I hope you all enjoy. PLEASE review, or else how will I know when I've made a gazillion spelling mistakes?
Silverpistola
Chapter 6 - Baby Babbles
Zelda knocked at the door tentatively. She'd wanted to phone, but remembered that she didn't have Link's number. Not that it mattered anyway, if he wasn't home she'd just leave the baby with Kafei or Anju.
She bit her lip, nervously, as a light flickered on in the hall and she heard approaching footsteps.
He opened the door and smiled.
"Hey Zelda," He frowned, "Wasn't I supposed to pick him up from yours?"
Zelda nodded, mutely. Her sudden inability to speak might have been due to the fact that a Happy Mask underwear model had just opened the door. Or as good as, anyway.
Link noticed the direction of her gaze and couldn't help smirking. Which only made Zelda even more helpless.
Because it seemed that even communists worked out.
"I only just got back from work," he explained, not appearing to be even slightly embarrassed by the situation, "and outta the shower."
Zelda glanced up from his well defined chest to his hair, which was slightly damp and tousled.
All she could think was, thank Goddesses he'd put on a pair of jeans.
"You wanna come in for a drink?" He asked, cocking his head to one side, still smirking.
"Um, the car's waiting for me," she managed to reply.
"What difference will ten minutes make?"
The light spilling from the doorway was warm and inviting. Zelda had become far too fond of Link's house over the past few days. The silence when she returned to her own house seemed deafening now compared to the light hum of activity in Link's.
"I guess I could," she answered, hesitantly.
He stepped back, allowing her room to enter; just enough that she had to brush against him as he pushed the door closed behind her.
"Did you get busted?" Link enquired, walking ahead of her into the kitchen.
"No," Zelda admitted.
"See? And you didn't trust me. I am honour roll, after all."
He yanked open the fridge as Zelda caught a delicious aroma and noticed a saucepan on the stove.
"I don't think that implies you're an expert at playing hickey."
"Hookie," Link corrected her. "A hickey is a lovebite." He rolled his eyes.
"I wouldn't know," Zelda answered, primly, sitting down at the table.
Link passed her a can of red soda and hitched himself up onto one of the countertops. "I'm soup sitting," he informed her, pointing at the pot.
"Oh?"
"It's Kafei's latest masterpiece. Unnamed soup 43."
Zelda sipped her soda. "Smells good."
"Good?" Kafei's disappointed voice came from the doorway, making Zelda jump. "Really? Just good?"
Kafei was wearing a flannel shirt and jeans with the cuffs rolled up, slightly. In the background the television in the living room was on. Saturday nights in Link's house meant junk food, deliciously bad tv and relaxing to the max. And, of course, the couch played a major role.
Link laughed. "She meant orgasmic to epic proportions."
Zelda blushed and Kafei scowled. "This soup, Miss Zelda, will rock your socks," Kafei assured her. "Link, get the lady a spoon."
Link reached into the drawer next to his left leg and withdrew a wooden spoon, which he dipped into the saucepan.
"Try, try," Kafei encouraged her, waving his hands, insistently.
Zelda got up and reached to take the spoon from Link, but he pulled it away. "Open your mouth," he commanded her.
"Link, it's hot," she whined, noting the steam curling up from the pan.
Link rolled his eyes, but blew lightly upon the soup.
"Open up."
She frowned, before opening her mouth and allowing him to hold the spoon out to her. As her lips caressed the spoon, Link's smirk disappeared and he fixed her with one of his intense gazes that made her feel as though she were drowning in ice.
But in a good way. Like plunging into icy waters on the hottest day of the year.
"So?" Kafei questioned, eagerly. She snapped out of her reverie, but Link was still gazing, hypnotically, at her mouth.
Kafei was right. The soup was heavenly.
"Hmmm," Zelda sighed, blissfully.
Kafei smiled. "A success, I will assume."
Zelda nodded, ardently. "It's amazing."
Link dropped down from the counter and stretched like a cat, his lean muscles rippling, slightly. Zelda took a step back from him as Kafei left, nodding to himself.
"He's trying to convince his boss to let him create the autumn menu," Link told her, tossing the spoon into the dishwasher and slumping down at the table.
"I wouldn't have thought cooking counted as a manly activity," Zelda teased.
"He used to use his cooking talents to seduce women," Link retorted, amusedly, "now he just uses it to seduce Anju. Not that I'm aware of any of that sort of behaviour."
They fell silent, giving Link time to wonder just what was happening between them. It was completely irrational, defying all logic. But he couldn't stop thinking about her, longing to know what she thought of him, as though this was something more than just a school project.
Which was crazy, right?
"I wanted to say thank you. For yesterday."
"There's no need," Link answered. "It was fun."
"It was fun," Zelda agreed, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I've never done anything so… reckless," she confessed, breathlessly.
Link frowned. "You really haven't, have you?"
"I'm not much of a rebel," she confessed.
No, Link supposed it had to be hard to do anything rebellious when you had a certain image to maintain. Not that skipping an afternoon of school was very wild and reckless. Wild and reckless would be acting upon his sudden impulse to kiss Zelda after watching her taste Kafei's soup.
But one thing he had learned, from being occasionally wild and reckless, was that the consequences were often irreversible.
"Is that how you'd class me?" Link asked, with intense interest.
His blue eyes sparkled with a glint of humour and Zelda felt sure he was teasing her. He was leaning towards her, his chin cupped in his hand and she couldn't help noticing just how close they were sitting.
"I… I really should go," she stammered, standing up so quickly her chair fell back.
"Okay," Link said, slowly.
"He's due for a feed in an hour," Zelda said, pointing to Marx, whom she'd set down on the table.
Link scooped him up, glancing at the timetable Zelda had left beside him.
Ahem, it.
"He's been a little fussy," Zelda said, backing out of the kitchen. "I think he might be teething."
"Very amusing," Link drawled.
"I'll see you tomorrow for the exchange?"
He nodded. She smiled, that bright smile that always caught him off guard. "Bye." He heard her wander through the living room, calling goodbye to Kafei and then the door closed.
Link looked down at the bag of flour, enquiringly. "So what was all that about, huh, Marx?"
The shrill ring of the phone disturbed Zelda from her tangled thoughts. She rolled over and reached over to grab the receiver from her bedside table.
"Zelda's line."
"Zellie?" Cremia's voice sounded uncertain. "Oh, I'm so glad you're home."
Zelda sat up, crossing her legs under her. "What's wrong? Is it Romani? Your Dad?"
Cremia sniffed. "No, no. They're fine." She sighed, heavily. "I don't know why I'm getting so upset."
"Crem', you're scaring me."
On the other end, Cremia laughed, sadly. "I'm sorry. Don't worry. It's just… it's just Sheik."
Alarm bells went off in Zelda's head. She sat up even straighter.
"Why? What did he do? Did he hurt you? Oh, if he did I'm gonna-"
"Zel! He didn't do anything. I swear. He's just left a half hour ago." Cremia's voice warmed a little. "My Dad really likes him."
Suddenly a different alarm went off.
"Why do I suddenly get a bad feeling?" Zelda asked, slowly.
Cremia was silent for a moment. "Zel'," she whispered, finally, "I can't help it."
Zelda bit her lip. Cremia had innocently stumbled into the lair of the beast. She should have seen this coming. She would have seen this coming had she not been so distracted. Damn men! Damn Sheik!
"I had a hunch," Zelda lied.
"He's different than you think," Cremia insisted. "When its just me and him, he changes. He's quiet and shy and thoughtful and sweet. Like a different person."
Zelda thought back over the last few days with Link. Was she different with him?
"How worried should I be?"
"Why should you be worried at all?" Cremia demanded, suddenly on the defensive.
"Well," Zelda answered, trying to pick her words carefully, "he's got a bit of a… reputation."
Apparently not careful enough.
"Yeah? Well Link isn't exactly pure as driven snow," Cremia retorted, haughtily.
Zelda flinched. "What do you mean?"
Cremia took a deep breath. "Forget it. I'm sorry Zel, I didn't mean to say that. You just, well, you kinda hit a nerve."
"You know something about him," Zelda spoke, ignoring Cremia's apology.
"Well, Sheik said something. It's no big deal," Cremia replied, sounding reluctant.
Zelda blinked, bracingly. Did she really want to know? Why was it important, anyway? What was it to her what Link had done?
"What? What did he tell you?"
"He mentioned that… well, Link had been a runaway. It kind of slipped out though and he wouldn't say anything else. He seemed angry with himself for telling me."
A runaway. Not quite what she'd been expecting.
"Wow," Zelda whispered. "That must have been why he disappeared, like Saria told us he did."
"Yeah. But she said he was six. Can you imagine being out in the world on your own at six?" Cremia echoed Zelda's thoughts.
No, she couldn't. Her entire life she had been sheltered and loved. Suddenly she felt so stupid for getting so upset about her sister.
"Zellie?" Cremia spoke, nervously.
"Crem', I gotta go."
She didn't wait for her to answer, choosing to hang up before Cremia could say any more.
She pictured Link in her head. Link smiling. Link laughing. Link frowning. He never wallowed in self pity, despite all the loss he'd suffered. He never talked about his past or how it had damaged him. He never asked for her sympathy. How could she have told him all that about her Mother? Why hadn't she thought about how ungrateful it would sound to him?
Her life had gone through rough patches, but throughout it all she'd had her Father. When her parents were divorcing he was there for her. When Hyrule was shrouded in Civil War, he still made time for her. No matter what, she'd always had him. So the thought of Link, alone on the streets, only six years old, made her heart ache. How could he be the strong person he was today? Why did he want to help her?
She wondered if that was why he'd always been so unkind to her before. She knew nothing of what he'd suffered and she had judged him without bothering to get the facts.
And then she replayed their brief encounter earlier that evening. What had that been all about? How did he make her heart skip so quickly? Why did she look for him everywhere, only satisfied with her day once she had seen him. What was happening between them?
The kitchen smelt delicious, filled with the smell of cinnamon and apples. Zelda as sat on the counter and she glanced beside her. Yep, there was a pot on the stove, some kind of sauce bubbling merrily inside. But why was she in Link's kitchen, watching a pot on the stove?
She looked around and spotted Marx on the table. Had she come here to get him?
Just as she was about to slide off the counter, Link appeared in the doorway. His hair was dry this time, but still hung in his eyes in an irresistible manner. And, of course, he was shirtless again.
"Link, what am I doing here?" Zelda asked, nervous from the way he was looking at her.
He smirked. Goddesses, sexiness overload. Zelda's knees were weakening and her heart was doing those strange gyrations again.
"You came back," he murmured, an edge of soft delight to his voice.
He moved so fast, or maybe her reactions were dulled, and before she knew it his arms were either side of her, leaning against the counter. She was trapped and he was far too close to enable her normal brain functioning.
"Link-"
He cut her off with a finger upon her lips. He wasn't smirking now. In fact, his face was deadly serious.
"I know you think you understand me, Zelda." His eyes narrowed. "You're wrong. You don't know a thing about me."
This was all far too weird. The idea of Link saying anything like that was preposterous. But Zelda's brain was having difficulty trying to process all this, so she just nodded along.
He leaned back, giving her just enough space to slide off the countertop, but this, she found, was not a good idea as she only found herself pressed up against him. He gazed down at her, hooking one arm around her waist.
"Only four days to go," he whispered before dipping his head and-
Zelda's eyes opened. Her fists clutched at the sheets of her bed and she slowly exhaled. Maybe that had been her answer.