A/N: This chapter is way overdue, I know, please don't shoot me! Tomorrow I'm going to York with my friends for a week, so Chapter Six might be a little late too. I've tried to compensate for my tardiness with an extra long chapter.

Thankyou for all the wondrously sweet reviews. I'm so pleased that everyone seems to approve of my experimental Sheik/Aryll pairing. It was too controversial for me to resist!

Please, review or I'll be sad when I get home. Love y'all!

Silverpistola

Chapter 5

Maybe it was the awful day I'd had. Maybe I'd become desperate. Or maybe I just needed a friend. Either way, something had made me stop by the supermarket on my way home and now I found myself at her door, holding a pint of ice cream and reaching to ring the bell.

"Link," she said, as she opened the door, her voice a mix of surprise and, dare I hope, delight.

"I, er, remembered that you liked Ben and Jerry's, so I, um…"

She cut me off with a smile. "You wanna share?"

She beckoned me inside, taking the ice cream from me as I closed the door behind me. I glanced about nervously. Her flat was similar to Sheiks'; an open plan living room and kitchen with a bedroom and bathroom down the hall.

She pulled opened her dishwasher and pulled out two spoons, bumping it closed with her hip as I hovered behind her, nervously.

"Have a seat."

I followed her to the couch, where she sat down and switched off the television.

"If I'm disturbing-"

"Nah, I was just about to do a little work out," she told me, gesturing to a treadmill on the other side of the living room, "but I'd much rather eat ice-cream."

She pulled back the lid and handed me a spoon, setting the carton down between us. She was still dressed in what I figured were her work clothes; a pale blue fitted shirt and a black skirt.

"Your sister any closer to being married?" She asked, licking ice cream from her spoon in a way that made my toes curl for some reason.

"I hope not."

And I recalled the story of the disastrous light lunch.

Of course, Aryll had mentioned Patrick Klein's name to my Mother, to escape her bombardment of questions. Immediately, my Mother had insisted that Aryll invite him to what she called "a light lunch" at our manor the next day, half to apologise for my giving him a black eye and half to inspect his potential as husband material. For once, my presence wasn't required, but I spied this as my perfect chance to reintroduce Aryll to Sheik. So I'd convinced my Mother to include us both in her plans.

Sheik turned up slightly early, looking uncomfortable in a black suit with my suggested dash of colour: a red tie.

"You look like Jack White," I teased as he stepped out into the garden.

"Oh, hello Sheik! It seems like forever since I last saw you. How is your Mother?" My own Mother asked, kissing Sheik on the cheek.

My Mother has perfected the art of looking pleased to see people. I truly believe she could greet Adolf Hitler with a smile and an air kiss.

"She's good, Mrs. Hero. Both my parents are touring France at the moment."

"How lovely. They're lucky, not having to worry about the season."

I nodded as Aryll joined us.

"Hey Aryll, you remember Sheik, right?" I said, innocently.

By good chance, she was wearing a red sundress that complimented Sheik's suit perfectly. As she sat down beside him, tossing him a smile, I was pleased to note that they did look as good a couple as I had imagined.

"Hey," Sheik said, smoothly, not betraying the anxiety I was certain he was feeling.

"You were at the Harrington's garden party, right?"

"Unfortunately enough for me," Sheik replied, rolling his eyes.

Mum wrinkled her nose, disapprovingly, but Aryll laughed.

"Tell me about it. If the whole season is as boring it might be the end of me."

"Oh don't worry, it gets better. The annual get together in honour of the Queen's Birthday at the Kendall's is sure to be fun. Especially when Mrs. Kendall gets drunk and starts yelling obscenities from the balcony at her husband."

This time Mum tutted out loud, but Aryll laughed again.

"So, who are we waiting for?" I asked Aryll, distracting her, slightly, from Sheik.

"Oh, Patrick. Hmm. I wonder where he is."

Sheik looked, pointedly, at me, but I looked away, feigning innocence.

By the time tea had been served, Patrick was still nowhere to be found and Aryll and Sheik were getting along like old friends, much to my Mother's chagrin.

"So Link," Sheik said suddenly, managing to tear his eyes from my sister, "how are things with the flat?"

"Fine."

"And Zelda?"

I shot Sheik a glare, but it was too late. Apparently he hadn't forgotten my "nonchalant" question about her at the garden party.

"Zelda?" My mother and sister both said, questioningly.

Sheik bit his lip, not looking guilty in the slightest.

"Anyone we know?" Mother asked, taking a prim sip of her tea.

"No. She's just Sheik's neighbour. No one special."

As if. Of course this part of the story I omitted. Not that it was all that significant as my Mother was denied the chance to interrogate me when Patrick Klein stumbled over the top of the eight ft fence that bordered our property and fell with an audible "oomph" into the hydrangeas.

"Patrick!" Aryll cried, jumping to her feet and hurrying over to where he had fell, followed by Sheik and Mother.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Aryll questioned, helping him to his feet.

"I," he panted, "I've been ringing the bell, but no one answered, so I-"

I stood up. "Ah, sorry Patrick. It's my fault. You see, I gave Franklin the afternoon off. Figured once the lunch was prepared there was nothing else for him to do."

Sheik shot me another look, but Mother nodded.

"Oh, Mr. Klein, I'm very sorry," she apologized as Aryll led him over to the table, Sheik trailing behind her.

At this point, Zelda burst out laughing.

"You tried to sabotage a light lunch?" She said, incredulously, pointing her spoon at me.

"I had every right!" I said defensively, grabbing a spoonful of Phish food. "Besides, that Patrick Klein is bad news. Aryll would be much better off with Sheik."

Zelda smiled. "Too bad your plan backfired."

I sighed. "You're telling me. Both of them spent ages fawning over Patrick, apologising for me."

Zelda patted my arm, sending what felt like jolts of electricity through my body.

"If Aryll's meant to be with Sheik, she'll end up with him. This Patrick guy sounds like a temporary infatuation, anyway."

"Temporary infatuation?"

"The kind of guy that you know is wrong for you, but you can't resist anyway. Every girl enjoys a little attention and flattery, sometimes," she explained, "but it never lasts. Now Sheik, he sounds like a keeper."

"I very much hope you're right."

She smiled. "I generally am."

She took another spoonful as I looked at her, thoughtfully.

"So, what type of guy am I?" I asked, nervously.

"Hmm," she put her finger to her lips, "you, Link, are the mysterious yet kind stranger. The guy who makes sure a girl can't stop thinking about him by doing the simplest things, like grabbing the lift doors, or maybe bringing unexpected pints of ice-cream to her door."

I froze. Was she flirting?

"I always thought of myself of more of a geeky, needy kind of guy," I confessed.

"Nope. You're definitely mysterious."

This game was new territory to me. After all, it had been a long time since I'd been interested in anyone, let alone had that interest reciprocated.

"Surely you're the mysterious one. I mean, you know half my life history and all I know about you is what kind of ice-cream you like."

Well, apart from the information I'd got from Sheik.

She took my spoon from me and got up, dropping the now empty ice cream carton in the bin. "Goddesses, my life is dullsville. Trust me."

"Well, Sheik said you're a journalist, that's gotta be interesting, right?"

She dropped back down on the couch. "You'd think so, but really, it's not. I mean, I work in the reviews department. Television reviews. So journalist is really just a title to make me sound like more of a mover and shaker."

"Care to offer any further insight?" I asked, teasingly.

"Honestly, Link, after your stories about life in High Society, my life story would be a real anti-climax."

"Hey, my life isn't usually so eventful. When I'm at home I work, walk my dog and watch a lot of movies," I admitted.

"So where's home?"

I hesitated. "New York."

"Wow. That's a … really long way away."

Her voice sounded disappointed. I had to confess I'd been thinking the same thing myself.

"It had to be. I moved to escape society."

"The life of Riley got too much?"

"It's all so… fake, you know? People kissing your arse all the time and then stabbing you in the back. It's like everyone wears a mask, they're all terrified of people thinking badly of them."

She sat, listening patiently, as I ranted.

"You never really know anyone. No one's real…" I looked up at her, finally beginning to grasp why I was so drawn to her, "like you."

She blushed.

"Really Zelda, you're so honest. Everything you are is there for anyone to see."

I knew I'd said too much, but part of me didn't care.

"Zelda?"

"Hmm?"

"Any chance you might wanna do this again? Like, tomorrow night?"

She smiled and I savoured the expression of pleasant surprise upon her pretty face. "Will there be ice-cream?"

"Maybe."

"Well then," she told me, "I guess I can't refuse an offer like that."