Heh. After Link-is-sexy chap comes Link-getting-it-rough chap. I love this.
One part left… You might want to read the author's note at the end of this chapter.
Nighttime ActivitiesPart 8: An Explosive Outcome
By CM
The laser outlet exploded as the bullet hit dead on at the foot of the wall. The heat grid was deactivated instantly.
How Ganondorf hadn't thought about it made Link wonder.
Nabooru probably wanted him to set off security. Then, the coast would be clear for her. And besides, it's not like Ganondorf wouldn't have alerted the guards anyway.
The alarm resounded. He only had a few seconds left before the guards burst into the hallway. Slipping the knife out of his sleeve, Link lunged forward and stabbed Ganondorf's side. Bleeding and immobilized, the tall man fell to his knees. Darting around him, Link turned to Zelda.
"Come on!"
She darted forward. She didn't see Ganondorf's hand reach out to grab the edge of her shirt. She screamed, and was instantly released as Link gave Ganondorf a hard kick to the spine. Ignoring the fact that her shirt was bloodied, she caught up to Link, who had already started running. Tears were streaming down her face.
"What's the use?" She panted. "Daddy's gone!"
"He's all right," Link breathed, though he didn't believe it, and neither did she. "I'm sure he's alright."
He pushed her down a perpendicular, narrow hallway and looked back, breathless, hurrying along.
Already, guards were beginning to come in. He could see them charging their guns and aim the best they could while running.
"Fuck!"
"Link!"
He turned to look at Zelda, speeding up. She was motioning him to move into an emergency exit. Link, though relief flooded through his veins, didn't dare hope too much. He shoved himself against the door, and it gave way suddenly.
And he was drowned in a blinding stream of light, sound and screeches.
Zelda clung to him and, as his eyes adjusted to the brightness, he made out the shape of many police cars, security barriers and tapes, the alternately red and blue flashes on the car roofs, the sound of speakers, muffled and loud, and the screams of tactics who disengaged the safety of their guns.
"Hands up!" Link breathed, and Zelda obeyed. He dropped his gun. Behind them, the guards had frozen, and he could hear officers running to handcuff them.
Zelda was practically torn away from him, and he reached out to grab her arm. He wanted to reach for his badge, but it was with the waiter/agent guy and he didn't know where to go for it. As for Nabooru, she had obviously done her job: he had no more ID.
"Let the lady go," a rough policeman said. Link shook his head, breathless, and held Zelda closer.
"Let her go," another officer ordered, practically spitting at him.
"I'm supposed to bring her home, I—"
An officer grabbed his sleeve, and shoved Zelda away. She screamed, and Link tried to get a hold of her, but already, he was held back. Someone kicked him in the ribs. He cried out, and heard Zelda scream. He was blind with desperation.
"Zelda!" He screamed. A fist collided with his cheekbone. He thought he heard a crack. His nose hurt. A lot. "OW, FUCK!"
"Let him go!" It was Zelda's voice, the only voice he could still recognize. "Let him go! He's my friend! He's an officer!"
"Someone get an ambulance, the girl is delirious."
Link couldn't do a thing. Someone had probably given him a black eye, and he barely saw Zelda struggle to reach him, being pulled back, right before a huge rock-like fist sent him flying to the pavement. Someone kicked him in the side, bruising his rib for sure.
He tried to get up, but his tortured limbs were failing. Someone pushed with a foot on his back, forcing him to the ground. His face got scratched on the tiny rocks. He knew his nose was bleeding, and his cheek was beginning to swell.
Fuck.
"This is what happens to you fuckers. You always think drugs get you far. You terrorize kids like her. We've got nice cold prisons all set for you junkie sellers."
Link tried to speak, but found he couldn't. They'd messed him up big time. He knew they would soon snap handcuffs onto his wrists, but at that moment, all he was worried about was Zelda. She had been forcefully taken from him again, and there had been nothing he could do.
And what of Harkinian? The kind old man was dead, and Ganondorf still lived.
The unfairness of it all made Link want to break down.
"Stupid bastards," the officer still ranted and Link's hands were roughly brought behind his back, hurting his shoulders, and pulled to his feet aggressively. He was being dragged towards the police car when suddenly a familiar face popped into view.
The waiter.
The officers snapped to attention, but one of them kicked Link for good measure. The agent glared at them angrily. He took out Link's wallet and flashed Link's badge at them.
Stunned, the officers looked between Link's ID card and Link's battered face.
"Holy—"
"He will go freely, and with the girl. There are other matters you should bother to tackle, gentlemen."
Link tried to muster a grateful face, but it hurt too much. With profound apologies that Link didn't listen to, the officers un-cuffed him, then made a hasty retreat. Rubbing his wrists with ill humour, Link snatched his wallet back.
"Thank you," he hoarsely said, having trouble to enunciate well, on account of his swollen cheek and clogged, bloody nose.
"Don't mention it. A car is waiting for you. As soon as we run medical checks on you, we'll—"
"The keys and Zelda. We're leaving. I've had enough of this."
The agent held out the keys, then pointed to a circle of medics near an ambulance. "She's in shock. Something about her father that no one quite understands. And I'm afraid that to pass the customs you'll need a special word. More specifically, you'll need a form filled in by Nabooru Gerun herself."
Link rolled the only eye that wasn't a mess. "Fine. We'll wait. How long?"
"Well…" The two men looked around. Some final guards and drug sellers were scurrying across the parking lot and the Square, but were quickly overrun by police. Link saw Mariah and a battered Ganondorf being dragged out and shoved into police cars, handcuffed. "It shouldn't be much longer," the agent finally said.
Link said nothing, turning towards the ambulance and jogging over.
Zelda was sitting, not hearing a single word of what the medics said and hugging a sanitized cover close to her body. Link shoved a few people aside, rushing forward and embracing her as tightly as he could.
"Zelda," he breathed, "you're fine."
She looked at his damaged face. "Link! You look awful!"
He wiped the trail of blood from his nose with the back of his hand, wincing at the pain. "Yeah. They had a game of football with my face. And it hurt," he added.
She ran a finger down his cheek softly, then put her cover around his shoulders as the on-looking crowd dispersed quickly, leaving them alone. "Let me help you heal," she smiled sadly, kissing his cheek.
"Ah, that's… that's almost right. You think you could try a bit to the right—" She obeyed him. "No, not quite. More the right." She kissed the corner of his lips. "Oh, yeah. That's a bit closer. More to the—" She kissed him square on the lips, and he smiled the best he could.
When she pulled away, she breathed, "My father…"
Link passed an arm around her shoulders. "I need a form to get you back through the customs. For now, we'll go gather my stuff in my hotel room. And we both need to clean up. That's what we're going to do. I already have a car, so we'll be fine. As for the form, don't worry, I've got it covered. Come on."
"Where did you get the money to afford this sort of luxury?" Zelda softly asked as he opened the door to the suite he shared with Nabooru.
"Ah, well," he wasn't sure how to put it. He didn't really want to admit to sharing the room with someone else, much less a woman. "Termina's government paid for it." He cleared his throat. "Maybe you can hop in the shower while I pack my stuff, and—"
"You need to clean up a lot more than I do," Zelda cut in. He could not object.
"Alright. Then help yourself to the fridge. You look hungry." He disappeared into the bathroom, and she was left to wonder what to do. She was hungry, but more worried than anything.
The phone rang. It wasn't the hotel phone. It came from within Link's suitcase, inside his chaotic room. She didn't know if she ought to open it. She stared for a moment. It rang again.
Screw this.
The zipper opened and revealed that Link's suitcase wasn't that bad. She rummaged through a couple of shirts and found, buried, the small cell phone device. She snapped it open, pressed talk. She hoped it wasn't a woman.
It wasn't.
"Link, thank Din you finally answered, what the fuck were you doing, man? There's been so much happening lately! … Link?"
"Kafei?"
"Holy… You're not Link, right?"
Zelda sighed. "No, I'm not. You don't even remember about me?" She paused. "I'm Zelda Harkinian."
Kafei uttered a stream of cusses that, in any other context, would have been highly offensive. In this case, she understood.
"HE SAVED YOU!" Kafei was screaming repeatedly, as though he couldn't believe that Link had gotten a hold of her. "MIRACLES!"
"Kafei, what has happened recently?" She feared the answer. She knew it would confirm all her worries and push her down.
"I should ask you! But over here, everything's under control."
Stunned, Zelda gripped the phone tighter. "I beg your pardon?"
"Okay," Kafei sighed, "okay. I confess. We had a couple of worries. Some guys kept hanging around your father's stuff and in the end we found all of his places rigged. But we sent in anti-bomb squad earlier today, while your dad stayed with Sheik and Malon… You know those two hit it off? They're pretty cool."
Dizzy from all the information, Zelda sat down heavily on Link's unmade bed. "You mean… Daddy…"
"He's alive. Tired, pissed… and alive. How did you know about the bombs? —Wait. Let me guess. Ganondorf Dragmire is behind all this?"
Zelda smiled. "You're bright."
"Strictly common sense. Now… Where's Link?"
"In the shower."
There was a long pause on the line. Cautiously, Kafei asked, "Did I… interrupt something?"
"No," she laughed. "No, you didn't." He said nothing. She repeated, "Really, Kafei, we were not doing anything."
"Oh. Good. He good?"
Zelda winced, thinking about Link's abused face. "Well, he took a beating, courtesy of Termina's highly efficient police force. They had him mixed up with the gangsters. But he's fine," she hurriedly added when Kafei cussed. "Really."
"Dumb Link never knows when to quit, does he? How did he get mixed up? He was wearing a tux and a little white hanky in his front pocket, and he had an old fashioned hat?"
"Yes. Minus the hat."
"What was he thinking?"
"I don't know, I—" She cut off. The shower was still on, and yet a door had opened and closed. She stopped breathing in fear.
A woman's voice—Nabooru's voice—resounded in the apartment. Zelda's blood froze in her veins. Her hand gripped the phone harder.
Nabooru was saying, "Liiiiinnnk, where are you? I just thought I'd mention, baby, that husbandry thing you did for me was… Oh dear." She stopped to look inside Link's room, where Zelda sat, clutching the phone to her ear. Both young women stared each other off for a long moment, before Nabooru finally said, "Perhaps I am unwelcome?"
"Zelda? Zelda? What's going on? –Wait, don't answer that—just… just hang up if something's happening that involves greater intimacy than my fragile ears can handle… Zelda?"
"Does throttling a member of the GAT count as intimacy?" Zelda asked into the phone.
"What?" Kafei sounded confused.
"What?" Nabooru looked a bit uncertain. "Oh, Miss Harkinian. You think I did something to your little detective? Come now. I can aim higher than that. Even though he is a very good-looking young man. But worry not. He's been obsessed with you from the start." The shower stopped. Nabooru leaned in the doorframe, whispering hurriedly, "If I were you, I wouldn't let go. The guy's a good one, and he's hounded by the ladies. I had to save him myself—But that's a story he'll tell you on his own. I just came by to give you this."
She handed Zelda a document and envelope. Zelda took them quietly then asked, "Can I ask you something weird?"
"Yes."
"How did you and Link make it inside the Latte Bar?"
Nabooru smiled, giggling. Link was moving around in the bathroom. She moved to leave. "He and I pretended we were getting married. Let me tell you, that boy can make a woman wish it was for real." She winked. "Keep him."
With that, Nabooru left the way she came. Zelda chattered with Kafei a bit more, and eventually hung up. By the time Link came out of the bathroom, hair still wet, he was greeted by a grinning Zelda. He furrowed a brow, but it hurt too much.
"What?" He hoarsely asked.
"Nothing," she smiled. "My father isn't dead, my two best friends Malon and Sheik finally got together, Ganondorf got arrested for attempt at murder, kidnapping, and threats, Mariah Majora Masklee got arrested for drug dealing, that idiot Sakon will never bother me again, and I'm stuck in a luxurious hotel suite with nothing but a gorgeous man wearing only a towel around his waist."
Link glanced down. Then looked back up at her as she sauntered over to him.
"Ah." He grinned when her hands reached around his waist to hold him. His last sentence was mumbled. "I see your point…"
VERY IMPORTANT NOTICE:
I love you people. Seriously. You have no bloody idea. In fact, you have no bloody idea to what lengths I go to tell you people how much I love you all. NO. BLOODY. IDEA.
But I'll give you a hint.
Let's say, completely randomly, that you write a one shot. It's a nice, cool, well-liked one shot. You like it very much. You got rid of that stupid plot bunny thanks to it, you got rid of the urge to write, and you got tons of reviews for your efforts.
Here's the glitch
The reviews you get all say stuff like, "Very nice, please update!" or "Cool, please make a sequel!" or even "This would make a great multi-chaptered story!"
And you think, "Golly gee, I really ought to write a sequel, or these people won't like me anymore and keep reviewing to me about things that I don't want to do, because I think this one shot shouldn't have a sequel because nothing would fit in with it." But you also think, "If I do this, I might get more experience."
So you write a second chapter to that one shot. It no longer can be called a one shot. You realize this. You can't go back. So you write a third chapter. And a fourth.
By the time you get to the fifth chapter, not only are you completely out of inspiration, you are also tired of the story, you begin to think that one shot actually was the spawn of the devil in disguise, and you really, really, really want to stop writing and just get on with something else. This is where my example becomes reality.
You might not realize, but I think some of my stories, after being added upon, turned out to suck. Badly. Some of you think it was a great decision on my part to add to these stories.
To you all, I say, well… Good, at least some of us are satisfied
But by the time I got to writing NA's seventh chapter, I wanted to hurl the PC out the window. My only problem is that I'm in the basement. Even if I hurled the PC out the window, it would not collide violently with a pavement down below, because the pavement it right there. At my eye level.
My point is, I really, really, really didn't want to continue writing NA. In fact, from the second chapter onwards every single word of NA was a challenge for me. Something I really didn't want to do. It became like homework. Who likes homework? Certainly not I.
Writing should be about pleasure
But I love you peeps. That's why I kept writing. You have no bloody idea how often I came close to dropping NA. To me, there was nothing left to gain.
And then, I'd get a couple of reviews for NA, telling me I was to update (you really are all so commandeering, sheesh!) and I would think, "Well… Okay. Just this once more."
And now, eight chapters later, I'm on the eve of writing the final chapter, and I'm thinking about how grateful I am that you pushed me in the back to finish what I had started, and how much it means to me that most of you have been here since the beginning, and how happy I am that I could make you happy.
Now, in light of what I learned thanks to this, I can say three important things
1. I will NEVER let something like this happen again. Even on penalty of death.
2. Reviewers are the most abso-freaking-lutely awesomest people on in the galaxy.
3. My resolve has been upgraded from Pathetic Review Slave 5.0 to Independent but Amiable Author 1.0.
So what now?
Well, I suggest you check out my other stories. Look through them; tell me what you think. I promise I love them as much, if not even more than NA. So what is there for you to lose? I enjoy writing quality fics. I enjoy receiving reviews that confirm that I have written a quality fic. I never say so. But I do.
What else is there for me to say? I'm grateful. I'm a masochist…
So stay tuned.
NA will come to a close in the next and last chapter, entitled, "Plus A Perfect Conclusion". Yeah. That's the last NA title. I can hear you wailing right there. It should be uploaded once I find time between schoolwork and work.
Love,
CM