A/N: Hello all! Thanks so much for all your reviews! I'm glad everyone seems to like Link as the overprotective big bro. I'm a little sister myself, so I know how it goes.

Another short chapter, but the next two are pretty long. PLEASE review because this story is like my baby and all parents can't get enough of people telling them how ADORABLE their baby is.

Muchos luv, Silverpistola

Chapter 4

Of course the match was most definitely over after that, which was something, I guess. Other than that, and a great feeling of satisfaction, there was no advantage gained from my rash actions. On the contrary, Aryll fussed about the big dolt, bringing him ice and apologising endlessly, which he, of course, enjoyed thoroughly. And I was forced to endure Aryll's lecture on the way home.

As such, I was inexplicably delighted to see Zelda waiting for the lift as I walked into the lobby of my temporary residence. And then equally horrified as I realised I was still wearing my blaringly white tennis outfit. She smiled, brightly, as I stopped beside her.

"Good day?" She asked, pleasantly.

"Not really," I answered, honestly.

To my surprise, she looked genuinely concerned.

"I think I may be losing my little sister," I elaborated.

"Oh," she said softly, her hand fluttering to her mouth.

"I mean, not as in losing her," I corrected, hastily, "I mean, well, I think she might end up getting married soon."

Her face brightened and she smiled, warmly. "How old is she?"

"Eighteen. Nineteen in a month."

"Do you like him? This guy?"

The lift arrived, the doors sliding open.

"I don't like any guy who dates my sister."

She laughed, lightly.

"Well, that's your right as a big brother."

"There really isn't anyone specific yet, though that's not through lack of interest," I explained, punching the button for the second floor.

"Oh. And you've only just realised she isn't a little girl anymore, right?"

I nodded. "Yes, exactly!"

"Tough," Zelda agreed, nodding sympathetically.

"Does your brother hate your boyfriend?" I asked, attempting nonchalance.

"I don't have a brother," she laughed again, "or a boyfriend for that matter. Still, my Dad really hated some of the guys I dated."

"See, my Dad died when we were little, so I kind of feel like-"

"You need to look out for her," Zelda finished for me.

"Yes!" I answered, pleased that she could see it the way I did. No one else thus far had understood where I was coming from.

"It's perfectly understandable," she told me, as we stepped out onto our shared hallway.

"You think so?"

She nodded. The sudden silence that fell between us felt oddly charged and once again I felt that odd nervousness around her.

"Hey, thanks. It's nice to have someone understand my perspective."

She treated me to her bright smile again. "Anytime Link."

And she turned to walk down her half of the corridor, shooting me a backward glance before disappearing into her apartment.

"I heard you kicked Patrick Klein's ass yesterday. Literally."

I scowled. The weather had cooled from the previous day and I was sat outside Café Nero with Sheik, downing mediocre coffee and craving for a bagel.

"He was looking at my sister. Or, more specifically, my sister's behind."

Sheik burst out laughing.

"What?" I snapped. "I had every right to kick his ass. Turns out all I did was give him a black eye," I snorted, bitterly, "and warm Aryll to him in the process."

Sheik's laughter ceased, abruptly. "What?"

"Where were you, anyway?" I asked, dumping more milk in my coffee.

"You really thought I'd turn up to a tennis tournament? Anyway, what do you mean you 'warmed Aryll to him'?"

"What do you care?"

Sheik shifted, looking away from me. "I don't. Just wondered, that's all."

His tone was reminiscent of my own when asking about Zelda. I smiled, suddenly, feeling a burst of hope.

"No, why did you ask?" I pushed, more firmly.

"Shit, I'm just trying to keep a conversation," he retorted, sharply.

My smile grew into a grin. "Do I look like an idiot Sheik?"

"I don't know," he quipped, his defense mechanisms kicking in.

"You're into my sister."

Sheik dropped his spoon. It landed on the metal table with a clank.

"That's a pretty serious accusation, Link."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"Well, no. To be honest, I think since you pounded Patrick Klein with a tennis ball, you've become paranoid."

"Sheik, I'm not angry."

"Is that what you were telling yourself yesterday?"

"Sheik, honestly, listen to me. I'm happy."

He was eyeing me, warily. "Happy?"

"Happy that you like her. And I'm willing to give you an in."

Sheik's brow furrowed. "Why?" He asked, suspiciously.

"Because, Sheik, I know that you have money of your own, so there's no way you could be interested in my sister for her inheritance. And, despite occasionally being an arse, you're a good guy and since I'm not gonna find someone good enough for my sister, you'll have to do. So," I stirred my coffee, enjoying his look of intense distrust, "you admit that you like her, and trust me, after the way you were looking at her the other day, there's no use denying it, and I'll agree to help you."

"Where's the catch?"

I smiled, innocently, before nodding, earnestly. "Ah yes, the catch." I looked up, narrowing my eyes. "You hurt my sister; I surgically remove your reproductive parts. Without anaesthetic. Agreed?"

I watched him swallow. "Okay," he agreed, in a choked voice. "I'm in."