GREATEST APOLOGIES for the delay. Unexpected and time-consuming things happened. But this is my little peace offering.

I know what you're thinking, so just read, little people!

Nighttime Activities

Part 6: Enter the Help Factor…

By CM

'Oh fuck, no,' Link had the time to formulate the horrified thought as he slowed down into the lobby. The last step of the stairs, to his despair, creaked a tad too loudly. Immediately, a crowd of female faces turned to him. Silence took over for a brief second, and Link took advantage of the calm before the storm to try and race back upstairs. Hopefully he'd make it before they did.

He didn't even have time to finish his 180 that already a chorus of loud squeals pierced his eardrums. He darted up, but many well-manicured hands took hold of his shirt, roughly pulling him back down. He was pinned to the wall. Their fifty-something-old faces batted their lashes prettily at him, but all he could see was the crowd of women too old for him.

He winced, a cloud of cheap perfume hitting him and almost knocking him out. Not a good thing.

Looking around desperately for an escape route, he felt them close in on him. What were they going to do? They wouldn't try to— Would they? Could they?

Oh Din, being harassed by a crowd of needy women was so not a nice way to die. Especially when the only person he wouldn't mind being harassed by was just next door. Guarded by a maniac, sure, but at least she was daring and sensual and—

Snap out of it, he ordered to his brain. They're trying to take your shirt off.

The hotelkeeper, far from being protective of her clients, was currently tugging at his sleeve, trying to get it off. He raised his arm away, and his attempt to fight back managed to make them lay off, if only a little.

Had they any shame at all?

And then, like a ray of sunshine in the middle of the night, or so his mind decided, he saw one woman. One woman alone, a tall, dark-skinned beauty, sitting in a chair, at the other side of the lobby, unmoving, was watching him. He made eye contact with her the best he could, fending off prodding hands, and made a face like, "What are you doing there? Help me!"

She seemed to get the message. Standing, round hips hugged by her pencil skirt, she calmly walked over. Carefully making her way through the crowd, she came face to face with him, approximately the same size as he was, and planted her full lips right onto his.

Though Link would have preferred another way to go about it, he didn't mind the kiss at all. In fact, if the thought of Zelda hadn't popped in his mind, he wouldn't have felt guilty for finding the kiss enjoyable.

It was short lived. The woman's hands didn't roam as much, but they embraced him to make the others' attempts difficult. Coming to rest at his shoulders, she pressed him against the wall. Finally, she lifted her mouth from his, still leaning against him, like a shield, and said, "Hey honey. I've missed you."

Link, blinking, had to consciously bring himself back into self-preservation mode. He smiled weakly at this total stranger of a woman and responded, voice hoarse, "Hey… Baby. I… missed you too?"

Though this exchange was less than convincing, the other women backed off, looking scandalized. The hotelkeeper, probably adorned in her prettiest dress, a bright fuchsia and neon yellow thing with frills everywhere, which must have been very stylish in prehistory, snarled.

"I thought you said your girlfriend wasn't coming before tomorrow!"

"Change of plans," the tanned beauty flippantly declared. "Now if you'll excuse us, we have a reservation at the local seafood restaurant. Thank you," she cleared a quick way to the door, and shoved Link through it, turning back to the disappointed crowd. "Oh, and please check him out in your book. Our stay here has been shortened."

Link was about to complain but a sharp look from the woman shut him up.

Temporarily.

Pacing to and fro in her cell, Zelda read and re-read the note Nabooru Gerun had slipped to her. A few simple, quick phrases had been penned down, and their slanted, feminine writing told her that Nabooru had written them herself.

'Termina's Governmental Action Team is on the lookout for you. Have established contact with Hylian agency and will contact field agent in Termina. Do not provoke G.D. or give in to any demands until we infiltrate MBL. Good luck.'

The words made her feel like an agent herself. She was comforted and concerned by the fact that so many people were looking for her.

Was Link too weak? Had he tried something? What if they'd caught him? No, Nabooru had announced that she would… Would be establishing contact with Link?

Zelda sunk down on her cot. She furrowed her brow. If Link fell for Nabooru's looks, she'd kill him the instant she was set free. Link was hers, ever since that first night in the bar. Ever since.

Ripping the paper up as quietly as she could, Zelda made tiny rolls of each piece and stuck them in between the walls and floorboards, so well they would be impossible to take out from there, if they were noticed in the first place.

As she was finishing her task, a loud knock at her door made her sit up suddenly. The door swung open and Sakon came in, unsuspecting. He pointed at her and motioned sharply for her to come out.

She was certain that Sakon enjoyed ordering her around. It seemed like she was the only one he had authority over.

In any case, she obeyed Kafei and Nabooru's orders: to not get killed. To follow through with this order, she complied with Sakon's. Standing, she walked passed him. His hand reached up to try to brush her backside, but she quickly moved out of his reach, glaring. He got the message. Unfortunately for him, she still had some authority anyway.

"I'm sorry, that was very nice of you back there, but why are you meddling with my affairs?" Link asked, loudly, once they were out onto East Clock Square. Children ran about, adults enjoyed a nice afternoon. East Clock was the most respected area in Clock Town, with the mayor's office overlooking the plaza and all the most expensive money makers surrounding it.

"To help you out," the young woman said, taking a glance at her thin wristwatch.

"Why?" He asked, incredulous. "Who are you anyway?"

She turned her dark eyes onto him, penetrating him with a sharp, intelligent look. "My name is Nabooru Gerun. I work for Termina's highly secretive governmental action team." At Link's raised eyebrow, she explained simply. "A spy. A look-out. Undercover agent, if you like."

Link nodded respectfully, and she shouldered her purse a bit higher, walking in long, model-like strides. Link had to actually walk at his normal speed to keep up with her, instead of slowing down.

"And you helped me because?"

"It's no use hiding your purpose from me, Mr. Kokirin. Termina's GAT knows who and what you are. And why you are here," she added, shooting him a simple, no-nonsense look. "We heard of what happened in Hyrule, and it became one of our priorities. However," she bothered to look sour then, shooting him an up and down look that made him frown, "we were not allowed to take matters into our own hands, as this would infringe international police laws. As responsible for the case, you are currently most important worker on the scene."

Link looked curious. She explained. "You and Miss Harkinian share the same nationality. If a country sends their agents into a foreign country to help their own citizen, said foreign country comes second. But we still have power," she warned, looking severe. "I would suggest that you do not turn to violent solutions unless we gave you our accord, Mr. Kokirin."

Link frowned, shooting her a cold look. "I am not stupid, Miss Gerun."

"Nabooru. As of today and until the end of this mission, you and I are fiancés. I took the liberty of booking us a two bedroom suite at Tower Hotel, in South Clock. Don't worry about watch guards. We have an undercover agent constantly on the lookout near the Milk Bar Latte."

Link sighed, absorbing all the information. "Are you planning to attack soon?"

"Hopefully, we won't need to attack. We're still in hot water concerning Masklee, so it might be a bit difficult to get her to surrender. But that is of no concern to foreigners. For now Zelda Harkinian's life primes over drug businesses." She slowed as they reached the opposite side of East Clock plaza, coming to a big, darkly lit restaurant with a large terrace. She chose a table outside, and motioned for him to sit across from her.

From there, they had a perfect view of the Latte Bar, all the way across the square. Link turned back to Nabooru Gerun as she placed her purse on a third chair beside her. "But that doesn't answer my question. When are you planning to act?"

Nabooru looked up, seeing his determination, and smiled, her dark gold eyes shining. For once, she looked more like a human and less like a workaholic. "Don't worry. We have already started taking action. I myself," she explained, "have taken undercover contact with Miss Harkinian just this morning."

"What?" Link gaped, "What did you tell her? How?"

Nabooru shrugged. "There are ways to get Latte memberships through fraud, Mr. Kokirin." Then, furrowing a brow, as though his other question was mildly insignificant, she said, "I only gave her some advice. Not to provoke any trouble until we got there."

He raised a suspicious eyebrow. She seemed to remember something. Taking her purse in her lap, she pulled out a wallet and was about to pull out a card, when a waiter bounded over.

"May I take your orders?"

Nabooru waved a perfectly tanned and manicured hand. "Drinks only, please. I'll be having a glass of water. You?" She asked Link.

"A need a coffee," he mumbled.

"Water and coffee," the waiter repeated, taking a few specifications from Link on how he'd like to have his coffee on his notepad. Nabooru smiled sweetly at the man penning things down.

"How is your milk?"

Link frowned in curiosity at Nabooru and her question as the waiter looked up.

"Well, a bad loss in the back room gave us quite a scare. We'll be fixing it soon. It'll be renewed in the next hour."

With those words and Nabooru's obvious scowl and sheet white complexion, the waiter walked back inside the restaurant. Link gazed questioningly at his 'fiancée'. She smiled, her pale face returning to normal, returning to her purse and pulling out a card. She handed it to him.

"This is the Latte's membership card. Usually, you have to have connections with the owners, but they never question you if you have a card. And this," she said, handing him a whole wallet, "is your temporary identity."

Link frowned intently, opening the wallet and finding a few business cards, supposedly from his job, two credit cards, pictures of Nabooru…

He had to admire how convincing it was. With this, should his identity ever be questioned, he'd probably make it through every guard without a cinch. He felt the urge to go try it out immediately. A look from Nabooru told him to stay put.

"You could try, but I don't suggest it. If anything, they'd be looking out for your face. I'm not saying you should avoid it, but just in case. Also, there was a problem this morning at the Latte."

Link looked up from a frighteningly convincing picture of Nabooru kissing a young man very close in appearance to himself. Because of its small size, the picture was just enough. He frowned worriedly. "A problem? How so?"

"I don't know the details. I was told just two minutes ago."

"You were with me two minutes a—Wait… The waiter?"

She smiled weakly. "Right. Now," she leaned backwards a bit as the waiter came over and placed their two drinks on the table. Link added cream and sugar, then drank a small sip, holding the cup by the handle, his other hand taking his real wallet out. Nabooru motioned for him to give it to the waiter. Link, though reluctantly, parted with his true wallet, and replaced it with the false one. The waiter bowed briefly. Nabooru smiled at him. "Don't lose it."

"Don't count on it, ma'am," he said, shooting Link a look that reassured the detective. His belongings were safe with the government.

Nabooru took a long swill of her glass. Carefully placing it back on the table, she smiled at Link, her new co-worker.

"Tonight, some action should be taken, so keep on your toes."

Early afternoon, a time during which Mariah did not like disturbances. "We discovered that a member of the Latte had false ID, ma'am."

Mariah looked up, frowning, from her glass of liquor. She glared at the security guard, and barked, making people look up, "That's nothing new. Who was it?"

The man looked down at a scrap of paper filled with scribbles, then dared gaze again at his employer. "A man by the name of Sakon."

Mariah stared blankly at him, before smiling at Ganondorf as he sat by her. He pecked her cheek. "I'm sorry, darling," he smoothly said, "Sakon is my… right-hand man."

She smiled, then turned a sharp glare onto her employee. "You heard that? Be more careful next time."

With a mumbled apology, the guard retreated. With that, Zelda's heartbeat slowed. For a moment, she had feared that Link had tried getting in, but been rated Persona Non Grata. It seemed that no such attempt had been made, but still, her heart had leapt.

It was afternoon. She knew from the clock beyond the bar counter.

Somehow, she thought, being held hostage was not as bad as it could have been. Mariah kept Ganon's lecherous hands busy, Sakon had to play the part of the sibling, and since she stayed in the dining area most of the time, he couldn't attack behind closed doors.

Still, it had been so long since she'd seen a familiar, reassuring face. She missed her father, and Malon and Sheik, and she missed Link and their one-time making out in her club lounge. She missed his warmth, his smile.

Instead, she was stuck with an unattractive, boring, sick-minded 'sibling', a power-hungry, lustful, rich businessman and his thoughtless, bitch girlfriend.

And Link was still nowhere in sight.

A woman came by their table. She looked like an acquaintance of Mariah.

"Oh, Ganon," Masklee purred. "This is Cremia Romani. She has a private little restaurant not far from here, a dear little place. Maybe we could stop by there?"

Ganondorf shook Cremia's hand, obviously checking her out from head to foot. Then, he smiled charmingly. "I'm afraid, darling, that due to current circumstances," at this, he glanced at Zelda, who tensed, "we cannot do that. But maybe some other day."

Mariah looked about to whine, but she stopped short, seeing her man look at Cremia far too appreciatively. Cremia Romani, on her part, was making polite conversation with Sakon, who was practically drooling.

Zelda nervously refrained from speaking, until Cremia addressed herself directly to her. The young woman's voice was soft, and the kindness she heard in it appalled Zelda. How could a woman with so nice a tone be acquainted with scum like Mariah Masklee?

"You seem pensive…?"

"Zelda," she responded wonderingly. "I'm sorry, I wasn't really focusing."

Cremia smiled softly. "That's alright. I, myself, wasn't feeling that well. So I just dropped by," at this she spoke to Mariah, "to ask about something I heard, about something that happened here this morning? Nothing too awful, I hope?"

Mariah scowled. "An old regular, a man by the name of Darmani Goroni, turned out to be acquainted with the Termina GAT. We had him taken care of."

Zelda had no doubt the cruel light in Mariah's eye meant a single thing. Darmani Goroni, whoever he was, had been killed by Masklee's underlings. A shiver ran down both Zelda's and Cremia's spines. Cremia looked shocked and pale.

"Oh my," she breathed after a long, horrified silence, "Oh my."

"Oh, would you please grow a spine?" Mariah snapped. "He was a bother anyway. Always drinking half a glass per evening. A waste."

Cremia said nothing, but smiled an ill-at-ease grin. "Yes. I… Ah… Well, I'll be off now. I'm sorry if I inconvenienced you."

With that, she left Zelda to her pool of darkness. Zelda sunk lower into her chair. Ganondorf, Mariah in his lap, mumbled something along the lines of, "She was odd. May I run a check on her?"

Mariah glared at nothing. Obviously, Ganon wanted to make Cremia his bedmate. "No," she muttered, "she's clean."

Nabooru slammed a fist on the table between her glass and papers spread. To Link, it seemed like she had hardened her gaze, though it was still surprisingly limpid. Nabooru had, for an instant, looked despaired and had lost the steely attitude he'd known of her all day.

"Darmani," she mumbled shakily, as though trembling with rage. "They got Darmani."

Cremia Romani, as she had been introduced to Link, looked much more vulnerable and sweet than he'd expect from a secret agent. She had been whispering information to Nabooru ever since she'd shown up on their suite doorstep.

Link's affairs, messily spread in his room, contrasted in order with Nabooru's chambers, which looked so tidy, he wondered if she'd slept in them at all. The only incontestable thing in the suite was the luxurious décor.

"I don't suggest that you go in there," Cremia whispered to Nabooru. Link, beside them, was leaning forward as close as he could to grasp their low voices. "Masklee had him killed. Who knows what would happen to you…"

"I know," Nabooru nodded, voice a bit choked. Link guessed that Darmani was one of her teammates. But Nabooru quickly regained her cold, snappy, leading way. "How did you learn?"

"Masklee's own words." Cremia took a second to compose herself. "On the bright side, I had a talk with our little Zelda. She's doing fine," she said to Link, who perked up in relief. "It seems to me Dragmire still hasn't put his dirty paws on her, though he's dying to."

Link tried to keep a patient look, but he obviously was tired, "When in Hyrule are we going to act? I'm tired of staying on the sidelines!"

Nabooru turned to him, and finally he saw what she had in her eyes. They were wetter than usual, but the look in them was only of determination. She motioned to Cremia, addressing herself to her, "You may take time off. You deserve it."

Then turning to look at Link, she said, in a tone that left no place for arguments, "We act tonight."

Love to you all,

CM