How's this for a non-depressing, fluffy Zelink one-shot? I've never done this long of a one-shot before. But I like it a lot. Snarky Zelda is snarky. It's based off this adorable post I saw on Tumblr!

Rambling aside, tell me what y'all think!

~Leila

Warnings: Just language and slight innuendos. Nothing worse than the b-word, if I included that. I don't remember actually!

"Mr. Dragmire's office, how may I help you?" Zelda asked in her dripping-with-honey secretary voice. "Mhmm. So they're moving the meeting to Friday?" she asked, turning to her computer and pulling up Ganondorf Dragmire's ever-busy, full to the brim schedule.

Goddamn those incompetent pricing brats, this meant canceling at least three appointments...

"Yes, that should be fine," Zelda sighed into the telephone. "Same times, correct?"

As the stupid pricing manager babbled on, repeating the same information at least three times, Zelda's mind began to wander, her eyes sneaking a glance at the clock.

Only two hours left in the day. Relief flooded her, bringing a small smile to her face. God, she couldn't wait just to get to her apartment, put on some sweatpants and just relax. Maybe order some Chinese and read that Stephen King book she got from the library, or take a long, warm bath...

The loud voice of the chatty manager dragged her back to the present. He was now talking about his wife's new cat, Jesus he just never shut up...

"Alright. I'll inform him right away. Uh-huh. Yes, thank you."

She slammed the phone down on the receiver before he could get any more words in and prolong the conversation any longer. She really felt no desire to hear every single detail of his personal life.

Rubbing her aching temples, she took a moment just to revel in the beautiful silence.

Silence was a sacred thing in the offices at Dragmire Industries, commonly called 'DragIn' among the workplace. Partially because the days dragged on like an eighty-year-old quantum physics teacher's college lecture, and partially because it was easier to say.

At every rational waking hour of the day, the place was positively buzzing with activity. The shrill rings of phones, the clicking and clacking of keyboard keys, the shouting, the talking, the espresso machine that made this ungodly annoying noise if you attempted to make a vanilla mocha... It all added up to a chaotic jumble of headache fuel.

Any second of silence you could get was practically gold in Drag Ind. Just as valuable, just as rare, and it took thousands of years under compressed heat to form. Meaning that it was only quiet if everyone was pissed at each other, which only happened every other millennia. Somehow Zelda had ended up working with all of the world's most cheerful people condensed in one building.

It made her sick. It was like babysitting the Happy Hollisters with no pay and realizing the parents were never coming back. Or being locked in a closet with Elmo and fifty of his closest companions.

Several pings coming from her computer sounded all in a row, alerting her to new emails to read.

They could be from steel companies, attempting to wheedle Mr. Dragmire into buying larger quantities at higher prices, or there could be some other multi-billionaire who wanted to have lunch at that new Mexican place everyone was raving about, or it could be that bumbling idiot from the third floor asking once again what the goals were for that quarter.

You've asked fifty times. You've asked, and I've answered. Every single time. Get your act together, dumbshit, before I have your ass fired and on the curb faster than you can say-

See, Ganondorf Dragmire was in the automobile business. He'd started out as a determined young entrepreneur, who had a knack for engineering and a way with words. The business world barely knew what had hit them when he came crashing through, bringing his new ideas and smart designs with him.

Power Cars, the name of his acclaimed company, were not only one of the fastest, safest, most durable and efficient cars in the market, but also ran off a cheap eco-friendly fuel consisting mainly of garbage and compost.

Needless to say, the consumer crowds ate up his "green car," proud to feel like they were doing their part in the world by buying a sleek sports vehicle.

Zelda found the whole thing ironic.

Ganondorf Dragmire, the man who smiled on the covers of many environmentalist magazines and volunteered at nature centers, absolutely hated the color green.

With a small grin, Zelda pushed back from her desk and stood up, turning to enter the door on the back of her office. Her office was really only the entryway into the main attraction, merely the velvet red curtain blocking thew view to the real show.

Tapping lightly on the dark brown door, she didn't wait for a response from within and simply walked in.

Reclining back on his leather chair, feet up on his desk, and a phone to his ear, was Mr. Dragmire himself. On the first week of the job, Zelda would just about drop to the floor from anxiety whenever she had to enter the large, powerful man's office. Now, three years later, she walked into the place like it was her bedroom at home.

Flashing her a smile, Ganondorf held up a finger signifying a minute before returning to making noises into the phone. He sounded like a broken record, repeating the same things over and over and over.

"Mhm. Mhm. Yes. Uh-huh. I agree, that... Yes. Mhm. Yeah. Mhm. Mhm. Right, bye."

Hanging the phone up, he removed his feet from his desk and sighed, massaging his temples.

"What's up, Zel?" he asked, his voice tired.

In the three years Zelda had worked for him, they had become very close friends, teasing each other, leaving small gifts on each other's desk on birthdays, and going out on the occasional lunch break. Zelda had even been invited to his little girl's fourth birthday party, which was next weekend on Sunday.

"The baboons over at pricing rescheduled their meeting to Friday," she replied, sitting down gingerly on one of the overstuffed, high-backed chairs before his desk. "Said something about a cat and a case of syphilis."

Grimacing, he let out a groan and swiveled to face the wall behind him, which was entirely a window and gifted him a beautiful view of the city. "I don't even want to know."

She grinned. "Oh, he didn't catch syphilis from the cat, those were just the two key things I picked up from his ramblings."

"Well that's sure a relief. I was beginning to question the rationale in hiring a man with a cat fetish."

"People with cat fetishes have good ideas too," she pointed out.

"Except for the horrible idea of moving the meeting to Friday! The big sales conference is on Friday, and I'm meeting with that Toyota guy to talk engine designs, and I was planning lunch with Nabs and Ave..." he trailed off into agitated silence.

Nabs and Ave. See, that was the one big thing Ganondorf Dragmire hated about his job. He barely ever got to see his family, whom Zelda knew he loved so much. Just the mention of their names was enough to turn the intimidating business man into a pile of gushy mush.

She glanced over at the framed photos proudly displayed on his mahogany desk. One pictured a beautiful tanned woman, her flaming red hair up in a sea-tousled ponytail, her golden eyes shining. In her arms was a laughing, dimpled girl with coffee skin and deep red curls, wearing a pink flamingo patterned swim suit.

The other pictured the same woman who was now out of her bikini, which she looked great in, Zelda noted with a twinge of jealousy, and in a beautiful white dress, a bouquet of desert roses in her hand. Her crimson curls now cascaded down her back, and her smile was radiant as she looked over her shoulder at the camera.

Ganondorf had been married to Nabooru for five years now, was blessed with a little girl, Aveil, and another baby soon to come. He would do anything for his family, and frankly it made Zelda a little jealous.

He had a gorgeous wife and kid to go home to. She had an evil cat.

Turning back around to face her, he spoke again. "Is there any way to postpone said stupid pricing meeting, or eliminate a bunch of other useless events?" he asked.

She nodded. "I can play around with rescheduling. Maybe move the Toyota meeting to Monday, saying you caught the cat man's syphilis or something. I'll work on that, and then send a nasty email down to pricing," she told him with a smile.

Ganondorf smiled back. "Make sure to include the phrase, 'inconsiderate dirty douche hoe-bags' a lot. That'll get the message across."

With another laugh, Zelda stood up from the uncomfortable chair and turned for the door.

"Sure thing, Boss. And I'll make sure to include a lengthy lunch break for you and Nabs."

The phone rang again, the high-pitched noise making her cringe. Ganondorf smiled brightly at her before answering it, vocalizing his thanks before attending to whatever urgent matter was on the other end of the line.

"Thanks Zel-Bell, you're the greatest. Dragmire's office, what's up?"

She left him to attend his own matters, shutting the door quietly behind her. Sinking back into her chair, she stared blankly at the computer screen for a moment, before having the compelling desire to bash her head against the keyboard repeatedly.

Dammit, now she had 52 emails to check.

"Shoot me now," she muttered to herself, quickly scrolling through the inbox and deleting all messages she deemed junk or worthless, leaving her now with only 27 emails to read.

Fifteen of them were from syphilis-pricing-cat fetish guy.

As she was typing a very professional reply to an engine parts manufacturer, the shrill ring of her phone caused her to jump, smashing the keys together.

Mr. Dragmire has always been satisfied with your company's work, however that last batch of frayed and broken wires was both unprofessional and irresponsiblegfuisf-

Pushing back the bangs that had fallen stray from her ponytail, she picked up the phone quickly, eager to end the god-awful sound.

"Mr. Dragmire's office, Zelda speaking," she said, the sugar creeping back into her voice.

"Zellie dear!" a high-pitched, screechy voice cried. Zelda nearly dropped the phone.

Lord give me strength.

"Mom," she said weakly, hiding her face in her palm. "You know I'm at work, right?"

The response she would have loved to hear was, "Oh yes, I forgot, I'll let you get back to your incredibly busy and important day and never call you ever again! Love you!"

Yet alas, she got nothing of the sort.

"Right, but it's not like you actually do anything, you're a secretary, dear. Your brother's an doctor, now that's a job!"

"Yes, Mom," she replied through clenched teeth. Two seconds into the conversation and already bringing up Sheik, the Prince of Perfection, her mother's pride and joy. "Why are you calling, I have an assload of emails to send and five times as many phone calls to make."

"Watch your mouth! Your brother never swears in front of me. Because he has tact, Zelda, tact! Let that be hewn into your mind!" her mother chirped.

She used the word 'hewn,' oh dear God.

"Yes, Mother dearest and most holy, what do you want," Zelda sighed, struggling to keep the venom from her voice.

"Alright, alright, no need to be in such a fuss! As you should know, your brother's wife just found out that she's pregnant," her mother said.

"I'm overflowing with happiness," Zelda droned in a flat voice, her eyes back on the computer screen, her fingers fixing the mistake her mother had caused.

"And as you should know, again, the shower is this weekend on Saturday at two o' clock. I expect that you be there to support Sheik and Ruto to celebrate this exciting time with them."

Sighing, Zelda brought a hand to her aching forehead, wishing so ever very much that she could just slam the phone down and end her mother's endless jibber-jabber.

"Yes, Mom, I plan on being there," she told her parental figure honestly. Though it pained it to think she'd be spending her Saturday afternoon with Ruto's overly-sugary smiles, and her old- by three seconds, Zelda- brother Sheik, who quite honestly, was a spoiled brat.

"And when do you plan on getting a husband? Honestly, you're twenty-seven and still wasting away in that office! Your brother was married three years ago, and..."

That was it. Zelda let her mother's words fade away, turning into a babbling brook of useless sentences.

IhateyouIhateyouIhateyou-

"Mom? Mom?" Zelda suddenly called into the phone, fake panic in her voice. "Mom are you there? I think I'm losing you, I'm going into a tunnel!"

"A tunnel?! You're still a work, you can't pull that on me-"

"Oh no, I'm losing my connection- chhhhhhhhhh-" she made a static noise then slammed the phone down on the receiver, cutting off her mother's indignant cries of protest.

Grinning smugly, she began to type at the computer again. That felt good.

Marriage and Sheik were two topics Zelda's mother loved to discuss with her. Both of which she didn't want to hear about.

Sheik was her twin brother who loved to brag, always had to win, and needed to feel superior to Zelda at all times. He was mommy's little angel and daddy's little man, and everyone loved him. Except for Zelda.

Then there was her mother's constant pressure to find a guy. Zelda kept telling her that she was rushing the natural process, but her over-powering mother never seemed to care.

Guys were an odd subject for Zelda. She believed in finding Mr. Right, her Prince Charming, if you will. She'd had a few serious boyfriends, but each had left her for someone else, or even been with someone else simultaneously. Marriage wasn't even in the equation at this stage in her life, and she found that worked just fine for her.

Forwarding a last email to management, she clicked out of her messages and found herself facing the busy busy schedule once again.

"Ugh, I just want to be home!" she groaned, smashing her face into the keyboard. It hurt a lot more than expected.

Peeling her head off said keyboard, she picked up the phone and began dialing the Toyota guy, while at the same time drafting an email to the people in charge of the sales conference.

About an hour later, after making one too many phone calls- No, Friday really doesn't work for Mr. Dragmire- and typing up sixty thousand and four emails- including the one she sent down to pricing, which she thoroughly enjoyed writing- she finally had a bit of down time.

She had successfully rearranged Mr. Dragmire's calendar, canceling some events and moving others, and she was even able to slide in an hour for him to enjoy lunch with his wife. During the course of the hour she also was successful in chasing away one of her co-workers, who had risked his life to enter her office to, out of all damn things, invite her to T.G.I. Fridays.

She almost threw her name plaque at him, saying she'd rather catch leprosy than food poisoning.

Zelda just really didn't like T.G.I. Fridays. Or her co-workers.

Now she had a blissful few moments to herself, which she chose to spend indulging herself in one of the best activities known to man: tucking her legs up and spinning around in her swivel chair.

Giggling to herself, feeling a little dizzy as she came to a stop, she reached out to grab the desk and send herself spinning once again.

As the world turned around her, she heard the door to Ganondorf's office open and saw him pop his head into her office as she came back around. Putting her feet down, her makeshift amusement park ride was brought to an abrupt halt.

"Howdy Boss," she giggled, giving him a two-fingered salute. "What can I do for ya?"

Ganondorf rolled his eyes, but a grin was still present on his face. "Sorry to make you play waitress, but can you go get me a coffee? I'm going to be here late, and I don't think I'll make it without caffeine."

"Perfectly understandable. What'll it be, Chief? I can get you anything but a vanilla mocha."

"I hate vanilla anyway, so that is perfectly fine by me. Just get me anything warm and caramel-y," he said, turning to look back in his office as the phone rang once again.

"Warm and caramel-y, check and double check. Be back in a minute," she said, getting to her feet.

"Thanks Zel, and once you're done you can go ahead and cut the last fifteen minutes of the day if you'd like," he told her, shooting her a toothy smile before ducking back into his office.

If she'd like. Ha! She'd be out of the infernal building faster than Jimmy John's Delivery service. Freaky fast!

Though in reality Jimmy John's was slow as hell. And when they got there the damn delivery guys would keep her at least another five minutes from her sandwich by proceeding to hit on her with cheap Internet pickup lines such as: Are you from Nashville? Cause' you're the only Ten-I-see! She had shut the door in the poor boy's face and hadn't ordered Jimmy John's in a year.

Making her way out of her office and down the hall, she faked smiles and nodded at every passing person, all of which blinded her with their enthusiasm and chirped greetings in return.

Thankfully the coffee machine wasn't too far from her cave- ah, office, and she was able to make it there without having to suffer too much human contact. Grabbing a styrofoam cup, she scanned the options, finally selecting the caramel macchiato. The machine whirred and hummed as a steady stream of creamy liquid flowed into the cup.

Mmm, it smelled heavenly.

Coffee sounded good, Zelda decided as she snapped a lid onto the cup. A cup of coffee after a long day of work sounded absolutely and positively good.

Flashing a few more too-cheesy-to-be-real smiles, she was safe within the confines of her territory, and went to deliver her boss' drink as quickly as possible.

"Knock knock," she called, entering Ganondorf's workspace for the last time that day. "Hope macchiatos work for you, because that was the only caramel-y thing they had available."

"This means I need to improve our coffee machine," he muttered tiredly, taking the cup from Zelda's hand and taking a deep sip.

"And fix the vanilla mocha button," she added helpfully. "Please fix the vanilla mocha button!"

"That's the one that makes the noise that-"

"Sounds like two printers screwing with a Transformer. That's the one!" Zelda filled in.

Ganondorf chuckled. "Right. I'll tell that to the janitor, using those exact words. Well, you have my permission to leave, unless you want to stick around for a while and file papers," he teased.

"As lovely as that sounds, I'll pass. I think I'm going to go get my own coffee," she told him, starting back out the door.

"Bye Zelda! Enjoy the rest of your evening," he called after her.

"You too, Ganon. Don't work yourself too hard."

Guilt tugged at the corners of her mind as she slid on her black jacket. Here she was leaving work fifteen minutes early, while Ganondorf might be here five hours late.

Grabbing her brown bookbag and slinging it over her shoulder, she cast a last glance at his closed door. Though he was possibly the richest man in the world, she did not envy him. Not in the slightest.

Some people are so poor, all they have is money...

She walked out into the hall, grinning smugly to herself as she passed all of her co-workers, who were watching their clocks with a bored diligence, counting down the seconds to the end of their work day.

Cackling internally, she arrived at the stairs, which were enclosed in a windowed alcove, and started down them, her combat boots clopping on the slick floor. She had a prefect view of the streets now. It was a sunny April day, though a sharp wind hurled through the city, blowing around fallen leaves and discarded papers on the streets.

What should I have for dinner? she thought to herself as she reached the main floor of the tall office building. Maybe Panera? Panera sounds good after coffee. I can have some warm French onion soup and a salad, or there's always Chinese takeout...

She approached the front doors and pulled her hair out of the long ponytail it had been in all day. Shaking her head, she allowed her dirty blonde curls to fall to their normal place near her bum. Where most girls abhorred the feeling of their hair blowing out of their meticulously styled up-dos, Zelda loved the feeling of her hair whipping around in a breeze. It had a certain air of freedom to it.

Grunting as she shoved open the heavy door, she was almost blown back into the building by a strong gust of wind.

"Cripes," she muttered, pushing against the gale, trudging to the bus stop on the corner.

An old Japanese woman, who just barely came to Zelda's middle, not counting the silver bun that was piled on top of her head, stood waiting for the public bus as well, struggling under the weight of two loaded grocery bags.

Zelda, who did indeed have a heart despite her brash nature, instantly rushed forward.

"Here, let me help you," she insisted, reaching to ease the woman of her burden.

Blinking with surprise, the old woman smiled. "Oh, no dearie, really, I've got them-"

"Please, I insist," Zelda told her as she took the two bags from the woman's frail arms. She initially sank under the weight; she didn't anticipate they would be this heavy. It was a wonder the woman's arms hadn't snapped off!

"Thank you, dear, that really is very kind of you."

"It's really no problem..."

"Pearl," the woman filled in with a toothy grin. "Call me Grandma Pearl. Everyone does."

Zelda laughed. "Yes, Grandma!"

The bus pulled up at that moment, screeching to a stop and swinging its doors open, allowing the two women to board it. Grandma Pearl went first, slowly climbing up the stairs.

"Seventy-seventh and Narcissus," she instructed the driver as she slipped him the fee of one dollar before tottering down the aisle to find a seat.

"Bass Lake and Main," Zelda said. "And can I pay you as I leave?" she asked, indicating her armfuls of groceries.

The driver nodded, emitting an indifferent grunt.

Stupid animalistic pig.

She slid into the seat next to Grandma Pearl, exhaling a sigh of relief. "Whew, these are some heavy bags! What's in them?" she asked, looking over at the small woman.

"Well, tomorrow is my grandson's birthday, and I bought things to make him a cake and his favorite soup for dinner. All of my grandchildren just love that soup, but there are so many ingredients!" she exclaimed with a chuckle.

"Well that's nice of you to keep making it for them. How old is he turning?" Zelda asked conversationally. Usually she put her headphones on to block out society and unwanted social interactions, but she had a soft spot for senior citizens and would have felt bad if she ignored this woman.

"Twenty-eight, and the immature child wants a race car cake," Grandma Pearl sighed, shaking her head. "Honestly, that boy is ridiculous sometimes. Almost thirty and still likes themed birthday cakes!"

Zelda laughed. "Is he the youngest?" she inquired.

Grandma Pearl shook her head solemnly. "He's the oldest, which is what worries me the most. I have three grandchildren, there's- oh, I have a picture, would you like to see?" she asked.

"Oh, uh, sure!"

She briefly wondered if it was a requirement of being a senior citizen to carry a picture of your grandchildren with you everywhere you went. She knew her own grandfather often displayed his handy-dandy pocket picture of Sheik, Tetra, Hylia, and herself, all four blonde grandkids that were all grown up now.

Please keep a photo of your grandkids accessible at all times. Thank you, and enjoy your-

"Here it is!" Pearl cried triumphantly, producing a slightly creased photo. "It's a little outdated, but they're just as wonderful as ever."

Unfolding the picture, she held it out for Zelda to see.

There were two boys and one girl, all dressed up in their Sunday best, posing for a professional picture. Fair bone structure and the ever-so slight curve to their eyes were the only subtly clues to their heritage. The girl, who was pretty in a delicate way, wore a blue patterned dress and her long blonde hair down. The boys wore white shirts and matching blue ties. One had jet black hair, while the taller one, presumably the immature eldest Grandma Pearl had referred to, was blonde.

And not bad looking, if she did say so herself. She wouldn't mind meeting him for a little mono y mono time. Preferably while he was shirtless and sweaty. No, not sweaty, sweat smelled gross. Shirtless and dripping wet. With water.

"This is Aryll, and she's seventeen now. They were all about two years younger in this picture," the old woman explained as she pointed to the girl. "Shadow is twenty-one goes to MIT. He's studying to be a technical engineer."

You could just see the pride shining in her eyes and radiating from her voice. It made Zelda smile. She wanted to brag about her grandkids one day, presuming one day she became attractive enough to attract other men besides the cheating douches and creepy delivery guys.

"And the oldest I was talking about is Rinku. He's a sound engineer, and now his hair is so long he looks like a sheepdog!"

Zelda giggled along with the old woman. "Rinku, huh? That's a unique name, I've never heard it before," she commented.

"Oh, it's his Japanese name. He goes by some other American name, but his parents and I call him that around home."

"You live with them?"

"Of course! I live with their parents, its an old Japanese tradition," Grandma Pearl told her, tucking the photo away once more. "I just wish I saw the older two more, they live off in their own places and only come around for holidays."

"You'll see them tomorrow," Zelda reminded her.

The gravelly voice of the mannish bus driver crackled over the speakers. "Bass Lake and Main."

"That's me," Zelda said, standing up. "Will you be alright getting the groceries home yourself?"

"Of course, of course." Pearl waved her off. "Thank you so much, dearie, and- oh! I never caught your name!"

"It's Zelda!" Zelda called over her shoulder as she slapped a dollar on the dashboard. "Bye Pearl, thanks for the talk!"

Stepping off the bus, Zelda was instantly reminded of the vicious whipping winds. Her coat flapped all about her, and she instantly wished that she was back on the bus with Grandma Pearl. She clamped her arms over her coat, preventing it from billowing out as it had been previously, and hastened her pace. Lucky her, the Starbucks was just down the block.

Entering the warm coffee shop was the equivalent of walking into Hell after being in Antarctica for fifteen years. Okay, maybe she was exaggerating, but she had the tendency to freeze her ass off in fifty degree weather.

Inhaling the heavenly coffee scent, she looked up at the menu, scanning it with her eyes. She decided on a chocolate frappacino- she was freezing and buying an iced drink, that was just her type of logic- and approached the counter, where a raven haired college boy was working.

Smiling, she placed her order.

"I'll have a medium double chocolaty chip frappacino, please. Don't be shy with the whipped cream!"

"That'll be three seventy five. Medium chocolate chip frap with lots of whipped cream, coming right up!" he said with a goody grin. He was kind of cute, Zelda noted. He had such big blue eyes. "And what's your name?"

"Jane," Zelda responded, digging in her bag to find four stray ones.

It had always been a little tradition of hers to give her name as a different female Disney character every time she got a coffee. Last time she bought coffee, she was Megora from Hercules. The time before that she was Boo from Monsters Inc.

Finally pulling out four dollars, she was about to hand the money over when-

"I'll have a caffè latte, put it under 'Tarzan', and I'll pay for her order."

Zelda blinked, and turned to face the owner of the masculine voice. Smiling down at her was a legitimate angel with flushed cheeks, the bluest eyes she'd ever seen and windblown golden hair. Was she dreaming? Dead? A combo of both?!

"You don't have to, really, I-I can pay for my own," she stammered, proud of herself for forming a full, educated sentence. Given the circumstances, that was a real feat. He was like the offspring of God and Zac Efron himself.

"I insist," he told her, pulling out a leather wallet and smiling at her again.

"No, no, no, really, I've got it," she said, shoving the four dollars at the cashier. "Take my money!"

He laughed, making her knees weak. Well, weak-er. Damn, he was a fine specimen of a male, and he looked kind of familiar...

"Really, I can't let a girl with eyes as pretty as yours pay for that."

That did it.

"O-Oh! Thank you," Zelda muttered, twirling a strand of her hair unconsciously. She was sure she was blushing. She hated when she blushed, she got all blotchy and looked like a leper.

After paying for the drinks, Mr. Hottie Lamottie with the swimmer's body gestured to one of the tables.

"Care to sit with me?" he asked.

"Yeah, that'd great! It's the least I can do, considering you just bought me coffee and all."

He grinned and pulled a chair out for her. Christ, he was hotter than a bloody bonfire, and a gentleman to boot. There had to be something wrong with this guy. Small penis? Drug-dealer? Alcoholic, Witness Protection Program, running from the KGB?

"Jane and Tarzan, your drinks are ready," the boy called, setting their coffees on the counter.

Mystery boy went to grab them before returning and sitting in the chair opposite of her, placing her drink before her.

"Now, is your name actually Jane, and did you get the whole Tarzan thing, or are you sitting here thinking, 'who the heck names a kid Tarzan?'" he asked, grinning at her in a silly way that made her stomach flop.

"Well, no my name is not actually Jane, yes I understood the Tarzan reference, and I am wondering the name of the chivalrous young man who purchased my caffeinated beverage," she replied, smiling and taking a sip of the coffee. Mmm. Chocolaty caffeiney goodness.

"That is a very good question, but I think you should tell me your name first because I can't go around buying coffee for strangers," he pointed out.

Rolling her eyes, Zelda took another drink of her beverage. "Well, I'm called Zelda by most, Zel by few, and a disappointment by my mother. Just Zelda is fine though."

He laughed, then abruptly cut off and looked over at her, his expression deadly serious. She looked him oddly, was he okay? Maybe this was his flaw, he had bipolar multiple personality disorder...

"Hey, Zelda, what did the ocean say to the shore?"

"What?"

"Nothing, it just waved!"

His serious mask melted burst out laughing, and despite the dumb joke she began to laugh as well.

"Did you sea what I did there?" he prompted through his giggles. "I'm sorry, that was probably really weird, but I thought it was funny."

"No, no, spontaneity is an admirable attribute," she told him, still laughing to herself. "What's your name, funny boy?"

"I'm called Link by most, Captain Crunch by few, and hopeless by my mother," the boy told her, taking a dip sip of his coffee.

"Captain Crunch, eh?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she sipped up another bit of icy chocolate heaven.

"There's a dirty joke behind that that I don't feel comfortable restating in public," he told her honestly, his face growing a bit red.

Zelda laughed. "So you're a dirty one, huh?"

"No! No, my friends, they're... Different, special, sick in the mind, take your pick," he chuckled, still a tiny bit red in the face.

"At least you've got friends, even dirty ones," she said with a shrug. "I've got my close few, but they're all married and off getting pregnant while I still sleep with my cat at night."

"You have a cat too?" his face brightened considerably.

"Yeah, he's a tabby. I call him Niko, and he's an evil little jerk," she told him.

Link laughed. "I have this calico named Epona. I've had her forever, but on the contrary my cat has a very sweet and cheery disposition. Maybe you abuse yours," he suggested.

"Verbally, maybe. I tell him he's fat a lot, and sometimes I tell him I'm tired of him mooching off of my food and that he needs to get a job," Zelda offered. "That might have something to do with the fact that he hisses at me whenever he sees me."

"He needs a girlfriend," Link decided. "He needs to meet Epona, she's got a degree in psychology, and she's great in bed," he joked.

They both laughed before taking another sip of coffee.

"That's awesome," Zelda said with a giggle. "So we're both cat lovers, you more so than me, and we both like Disney movies. What else is there to know about you, Captain Crunch? What do you do for a living?"

"Well, I'm a sound engineer downtown at the Triforce Stadium. I work with the preforming groups that come through and make sure the ratios of sound the crowd hears is equal, like the vocals and bass," he explained.

Sound engineer...

"That's really cool! So I bet you meet a ton of famous people, don't you?" Zelda asked.

"Yeah, it's pretty neat. Most of them are cool, but there's always a few crazies. Tomorrow I'm actually going to meet The Three, and I'm super excited," Link told her.

Zelda's heart just about stopped. Not The Three, as in Din, Nayru, and Farore, the goddesses of pop and her all time favorite band in the world?

"No. Way. You are not meeting them," Zelda pressed. "You're actually for real? How are you not freaking out!? I'd like pee myself if I heard I was meeting them! Okay, not really, I've been past the peeing stage for like twenty-five years, but that is amazing!"

"Oh don't worry, I squealed like a little girl when I found out I'd be working with them," he informed her with a grin. "Din is my favorite, what about you?"

"Nayru! She sings like an angel," Zelda gushed.

"Oh, well since you're talking about their singing, voice-wise Farore is my favorite, but on level of hotness, Din wins hands down."

She rolled her eyes. "That is such a guy thing to say."

"Considering I'm a guy, that's a good thing! So what do you do, Miss Zel?" he inquired.

God, when he called her 'Miss Zel' it sent shivers down her spine and made her just want to jump on him and do unspeakable acts right there on the coffee shop floor.

"Gee, I can't just tell you I'm a secretary after you just told me you work with mega-famous music artists all the time! Gimme a sec to make something up. I'm... uh...a princess. Yup, a professional princess," she told him with a cheeky grin.

"Oh, you're Princess Zelda then, my apologies, Your Highness, for not paying proper respects earlier," he teased. "But on a more serious note, whose secretary are you?"

"I'm the personal secretary slash assistant to Ganondorf Dragmire from Dragmire Industries," she told him.

Link's eyebrows shot up. "You work personally for the richest man on earth?"

She shrugged. "I guess so. You kind of get over that fact after three years though."

"What's he like? Is he as intimidating as he looks, is he an ass, or what?" Link demanded curiously.

"He's great, and we're really good friends actually," Zelda told him whilst taking a long last drink of her chocolate drink. "In fact, I'm going to his daughter's birthday party next weekend."

He gave a low whistle. "Wow, not everyday that you meet someone who's probably on a first name basis with Ganondorf Dragmire."

Zelda giggled. "Hey, you wanna know what I call him? Ganny-Wanny. He doesn't like it very much!"

He laughed again. "Gee, I wonder why- Hey! I thought of another joke!"

"Do share."

"What does a nosy pepper do?" he asked.

"I don't know Link, what does a nosy pepper do?" Zelda asked with a grin.

"It gets jalepeño business!"

She stared at him blankly.

"You know, like all up in yo business, it's jalepeño business? Nothing?" he prompted with a goofy grin. "Well screw you, I think it's bloody hilarious!"

Zelda rolled her eyes. "You're like a child!" she told him.

"Exactly what my grandmother says! Have you been in league with her or something?" he demanded jokingly.

Sound engineer. Grandma Pearl. Japanese name, goes by American name...

"Wait... Is your birthday tomorrow?" Zelda asked slowly.

"Yup, turning the big two-eight, why?"

"And are you having a race car birthday cake?" she giggled.

"Oh good Christ, how do you know that?" he moaned, covering his face with his hands. "That was confidential information not to be shared with the general public!"

"This is so funny! I carried groceries for your grandma on the bus today!" Zelda exclaimed.

"Really? About yay-high, of Asian descent, tells everyone and their dog to call her 'Grandma'?" he questioned.

"Yeah, she showed me a picture of you and your siblings, she told me you looked like a sheepdog! But she called you something funny, um..."

"Rinku?" he filled in.

"That was it. Said it was your Japanese name."

"Her and my parents are just about the last three people on earth that still call me that," Link told her. "'Rinku' is Link in Japanese, and they insist that it 'reminds me of my heritage' when they call me that. Personally I like good ol' Link better."

"You don't look very Japanese-y though. You're blonde, unless you dye it," Zelda said, indicating his hair.

"My mom is blonde, and so is my grandpa on my dad's side. My brother is really the only one who inherited the black hair, poor bastard," Link quipped with a small grin. "When he was little, I told him he was adopted and he cried. I thought it was hysterical, but alas my parents did not and grounded me for a lengthy period of time."

"See at least you're the oldest! I was the youngest of four, and I was the butt of every single joke in the house. My sisters used to draw on me while I was sleeping, and my twin brother would rig buckets of water to the doorframe so they'd spill when I opened the door... I had a very traumatic childhood, actually. I bet I could turn my inner pain into art and become rich!"

"He could actually get the buckets to balance on the doorframe? Damn, I never could!" he cursed, crossing his arms and mock-pouting.

"Yes, my dear brother was crafty like that," she sighed. "But he's also a douchenozzle, and that overshadows his craftiness."

"I hate those dratted douchenozzles," Link said with a grin. "Ha, douchenozzle. I'm gonna use that."

"I like to think of myself as creative with swear words. I've come up with some pretty good ones over the years," Zelda told him.

"Really? If we weren't in a public vicinity, I would absolutely love to hear some of your masterpieces," he said. "Perhaps we could meet up again sometime?"

Zelda's heart fluttered. Meet up again? Sure, how about in my bed-

"Yeah that'd be great! I'll give you my number," she said, reaching into her bag for a pen and grabbing the nearest napkin.

"And I shall give you mine!" he declared, snatching up another napkin producing a pen from his pocket.

With a grin, he handed her his napkin. Link a.k.a. Captain Crunch a.k.a. Tarzan a.k.a. The EXTREMELY attractive man you met at Starbucks: 773-774-775

"Cocky there, ain't we?" Zelda asked with a grin, handing him her own napkin.

He read it and snorted. "Like you aren't? 'Zelda, the beautiful and charming secretary who also has a cat and thinks you should call her at the nearest opportunity at: 778-779-770.'"

"I think it's safe to say we're both overconfident."

"Yes, overconfident douchenozzles," he agreed.

"Hey, I'm not a douchenozzle. I'm practically perfect in every way. You can call yourself whatever you want to," Zelda corrected.

"Mary Poppins, eh? In that case, I guess I'm Bert. Shall I woo you by dancing like a penguin and singing songs pertaining to the folk who clean chimneys?" he inquired with a grin.

With that, he scraped his chair back, stood up, and proceeded do a funny little dance that did indeed resemble a penguin. Zelda laughed, covering her face and glancing around the practically empty Starbucks. The few customers there were staring.

"God, you're embarrassing," she said through her laughter.

"But you like it," Link said, grinning as he sat back down. "And I regret nothing."

"You just sacrificed your dignity in front of this entire cafe."

"But you smiled, and that was the point. Mission accomplished. You have a very pretty smile, by the way. I bet people tell you that all the time, but it's true," Link informed her.

They didn't. Actually he was the first person in recorded history to compliment her smile. His nice words made her smile, and another blush crept onto her cheeks. Damn him, he must like it when she looked like she contracted leprosy!

"Thank you," she murmured, twirling her hair again. Apparently this was a nervous habit she didn't know she had.

"You're quite welcome!" Link said with an earnest smile. His eyes flitted to the clock on the wall, and the smile faded a bit. "Oh damn, I promised my grandma I'd come over to help her make her soup tonight!"

"Well then you should probably be going," Zelda told him, though she could feel her heart sinking a little bit.

"Can I, uh, walk you home?" he offered shyly.

And the fluttery feeling was back.

"That would be wonderful, thank you," she said with a smile, standing up and pushing her chair back in.

He stood up after her, and they both went to throw their finished drinks away. Holding the door open for her like a gentleman, both of them emerged into the windy world outside.

Zelda's hair began whipping around her, and for the first time in a long time, she was self-concious about it getting messed up.

"I only live a short way from here, so you won't have to walk so far," she told him as they walked. He never took his eyes off her, and she felt another blush coming on. Son of a nutcracker.

"Oh, I don't mind. Take the long way if you can," he told her with a cute smile.

She grinned in return. "Unfortunately it is literally two blocks, so there's not really a long way!"

"We'll walk slow then," Link told her, dramatically decreasing his pace to the point where he was practically moving in slow-motion.

She laughed. "Okay, that's a little too slow, don't you think?"

"I thought it was perfect, but whatever suits you, m'lady," he said in a drawling voice, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Thank you, kind sir. You are ever so noble," she played along, nudging him a little.

Stopping at a crosswalk, Link made sure that they looked both ways- left, then right, then left again and cross- before crossing the street to Zelda's block. She lived in a cute apartment complex that had a wrought iron fence, and a brick front with ivy vines growing up the sides.

"Right, well this is my building," Zelda told him, shifting her feet. She wished she could talk to him more. Or kiss him. Maybe a little of both. "Thank you for escorting me to my humble dwelling, Captain Crunch."

"It's the least I could do for a princess," he said with a shrug and a lopsided grin. "Anyway, uh, I'll see you sometime, right?" He sounded hopeful.

"Right," she seconded him. "Text me sometime."

"Don't worry, I will," he promised her with a bright smile. "Well see you Zelda, nice meeting you!"

"Bye Link, thank you for buying me coffee!" she called over her shoulder as she opened the door into the complex.

"Anytime, Princess! I'll text you later!"

With that, Zelda shut the door, the raging winds ceased, and he was gone. As she trekked up the three flights of stairs, Zelda couldn't help but wonder if that was even real. Really, who just comes up behind someone who says their name is Jane, says that they're Tarzan, and then buys them coffee?

And he was incredibly hot, and gentlemanly, and funny...

Fumbling with her keys, she finally jammed the right one into the lock and opened into her apartment. Kicking off her shoes, and throwing her bag onto the nearest couch, she retired into her bedroom, where Niko was already situated comfortably on her bed.

He hissed as she entered, and Zelda hissed back. She wouldn't put up with his crap today.

"Shut up, you fat sack of fluff, and get off my bed. You're shedding all over it!"

With another hiss, Niko leapt nimbly off the bed and darted out of the room, wanting to distance himself as far from her as possible. Good. She didn't want to see him either, the brat.

Flopping down on her bed, she ran a hand through her tangled hair and stared up at the white ceiling.

No, it wasn't real, she decided. Good stuff like that never just happened to her out of the blue. She had to be dreaming, she told herself. And when she closed her eyes and opened them, her alarm would be going crazy, trying in vain to get her to start her day. It would be six o' clock, and she would only have a half hour to get ready before she needed to catch the bus...

Closing her eyes, it wasn't her alarm clock that caused them to snap open, but the buzz of her phone. Sliding it out of her skirt pocket, she eyed the screen and instantly broke out in a smile.

Unknown Number: Jane, me could no wait to text you, me really enjoy time we talked, you busy tomorrow? Maybe me could have "Take You Princess to Work Day," and we meet The Three together? -Tarzan

With a short laugh, she sent her reply, completely disregarding the fact that she had her brother's wife's baby shower. Who cared about that, she hated everyone that would be there anyway. And it was The Three, for God's sake. With Link. You didn't say no to that.

Before she got out of bed and went to go worry about dinner, she removed the crumpled Starbucks napkin from her other pocket and carefully entered the number in her phone.

Tarzan: 773-774-775

And with that, she stood up and went to order her dinner. Chinese sounded good, she thought. Chinese and a Disney movie about a scientist's daughter and a man who thought he was a monkey.

Drop me a review and tell me what you think, I have a storyline mapped out for a two-shot if you like it...