To Win The Girl

Well, I was just writing whatever I felt like and this is how it turned out. Well, it's a mini fic, maybe 7 chapters long. Let's see what you all think.

Also it's my birthday soon, so this is a kind of birthday themed fic, like I did a Christmas themed one last year...16th oh my god, I want to go back to primary school, the real world is too scary lol! Just think, in a few years I'll have to leave school, get a job, really knuckle down and try to become an author, think about uni...it stresses me out.

Disclaimer: Whoop, nearly forgot this. I think you all know anyway: I don't own Ranger's Apprentice, it belongs to John Flanagan, and I have no intent in stealing or making any profit from it, as I am but a simple fan.

Chapter 1

A Birthday

"Oh come on, you have to invite boys!" Sandra insisted. "What about the baker boy, he's good looking!"

Pauline smiled and shook her head. "I'm inviting close friends." She suppressed a laugh at the the almost cartoon way her friend Sandra pouted. The courier rolled her eyes. "I never said there wouldn't be any boys though," she pointed out, "I happen to have a few close friends who just happen to be male."

"Oh? Like who?" Sandra planted her rear end onto the table, swinging her legs and pursing her lips as she tried to think of what guys Pauline knew. As a young noble, sitting on the table went against the polite manners her father had drilled into her, but Sandra always let those manners disappear when there were only friends around.

They were in the courier service headquarters, where Pauline was working overtime to finish a letter she was writing on behalf of the baron. Sandra had barged in, demanding birthday plans.

"Oh I know!" Sandra giggled. "It's the ranger!"

Pauline blanched, distracted from her work and suppresing a rush of blood in her cheeks. "What makes you say that?" she asked in a level voice.

Sandra grinned at her. "I've seen you talking to him, and the other day he said 'hello' when he passed us. So spill it, 'Line."

"Spill what?" Pauline had regained her composure and nudged her friend to move over on the table so there was room to write.

Sandra cupped her chin in her hands, a delighted smirk on her lips. "You and the ranger are more than friends. More than close friends even."

"Don't jump to conclusions," Pauline told her evenly. "Halt is just a friend. He has escorted me on several missions. And another ranger, Crowley, has as well so I'm inviting him."

Sandra wasn't convinced, but she let the matter drop. "Alright, so what do you want this party to be like? Shall we get a muscian? Will it be a dance? I like dances, I think it should be a dance."

Pauline smiled. "I just want it to be a quiet occasion with my friends."

"If you want it to be quiet, why are you inviting Crowley?" The voice came from behind them and the girls jumped, turning to see two cowled figures leaning against the doorframe after somehow managing to ease the door open without it creaking.

"Excuse me, I'll have you know I'm the perfect party material," the second ranger protested. "There's never been a more fun party than when I'm around! I have the best taste in music, and no one can dance a finer jig than I!"

"I believe she already said she didn't want music or dancing."

"Well that's lucky for you since you know nothing about either."

Pauline, annoyed at herself for letting her emotions show twice now- first the blush and now jumping when the rangers appeared- turned back to her letter. She was determined to finish it and all the distractions really weren't helping.

"On second thought, I'm not inviting either of you if you're going to keep quarrelling." She was a master of not letting a smile cross her face and she didn't let a single hint of humour show in her voice.

Crowley joined Sandra on the desk and Pauline supressed a hiss of annoyance that her work was disrupted again.

"Ah, Pauline. You have to invite me, you don't get a choice," he told her, adopting wise airs.

Pauline was not in the mood to humour him. It had already been an hour since she started the letter, and she would be so close to finishing if only they would all shut up and let her concentrate. Maybe if she ignored them, they would get bored and leave her in peace.

"Why's that?" Sandra asked. As a noble, she wasn't afraid of rangers. She was, however, unnerved by them and she hopped off the desk, uncomfortable of the close proximity between herself and the ranger with the sandy red hair.

Crowley didn't notice the movement, his eyes were trained on Pauline. "You see, my poor ignorant 'Line, if you don't invite me, your party will be unbearably dull. I bring the joy and charisma to any-" He broke off when Halt knocked him on the head.

"Do you ever shut up?" Halt asked, stressing the last two words. Crowley winced, rubbing his head and feigning hurt.

"Pauline, he's much too violent, you shouldn't invite him. He'll only disrupt your party and-"

Halt hit him again.

So this time Crowley thumped him back.

They glared at each other, and Sandra- who had backed away from those vicious stares- could almost see them spitting like alley cats, hackles raised. Rangers were formiddable on a normal day, but angry rangers? That was something else entirely.

Thwack!

Pauline whacked them both with a rolled up piece of parchment from her desk. Sandra stared at her, amazed at the couriers bravery, and the two young rangers winced.

"I'm trying to work," she said, her voice low, calm, flowing and underlined with danger. The rangers and Sandra gaped at her.

"She hits harder than you, Halt," Crowley muttered and the other ranger turned to him with a gleam in his eye.

"Let's find out if that's true," he said, taking a deliberate step forward. Crowley couldn't stop himself from stepping back, a vaguelly concerned look crossing his face as he tried to figure out if his friend was joking.

This not so subtle threat was the final straw for a tired, overworking Pauline.

"All of you, OUT! Or I won't even have a party!" She strode to the door, held it open and glared at them until Sandra and the two rangers slunk out of the room.

…...

"That was your fault," Crowley huffed. Halt rolled his eyes.

"It was not."

"Was so. If I ever become the commandent of the ranger corps, I'll punish you for that."

"Like you could ever be commandant. No one would listen to you."

Crowley sighed. Not because of the harsh assessment of his chances of being corps commandant, rather he was thinking about Pauline. The way her hair glowed in the sun, the sparkle in her eye, her graceful composure. And that he often caught her odd, almost shy sideways glance at Halt.

She had affections for the grim ranger, any fool could see that. Crowley was left wondering if there was hope for him to take his relationship with her beyond friendship. He wanted to, oh how he wanted to, but he had a sinking feeling in his gut that she would never belong to him. It wrenched his heart, it made him sick, it sentenced him to sleepless nights and desperate binge drinking.

What was worse was that Halt was so damn naeve. He never noticed the way she looked at him and he wouldn't dare make a move towards her. She might wear a nice dress and he would blush and turn away, leaving Crowley suppressing a wince as he saw Pauline's own blush. They were so right for each other, and yet so wrong that it hurt the sandy haired ranger. He could only imagine the heartbreak if they ever realised their shared affections. Crowley didn't want to be a third wheel.

That was why he wasn't going to lose. Not this time. He was certain with his own charm and flattering smile that had the court ladies swooning over him, he could win one courier over. Still, Pauline was in a league of her own. She was a steady, methodical and a practical young woman and though he tried, Crowley really couldn't imagine her swooning over anyone.

"Crowley?"

The sandy haired ranger realised he'd been standing still, hands clenched at his sides. He shook his head to clear it, trying to calm his pulse that raced with the mere thought of the beautiful courier. Halt had paused and was looking back at him.

"Oh, nothing, nothing," Crowley waved it off. "I was just thinking of what I would get Pauline for her birthday."

Halt blinked at him. His face gave him away, although her quickly turned around and started walking again.

"It didn't even cross your mind that you have to buy her something!" Crowley accused him. "What, did you think you could turn up empty handed?"

Halt flashed him an irritated look. "Of course not, I'll find something."

"Like what?" Crowley challenged.

Silence.

"Well what are you going to get her?" Halt demanded and Crowley waved a hand in an airy manner.

"Oh, I'm not letting you steal my idea," he said.

"You don't have an idea."

"I do so."

"Well, what is it?"

"I'm not saying."

"Because you don't have one."

"Because it's so brilliant, I want to surprise everyone," Crowley said cheerfully. "After all, girls love guys who get them amazing gifts, you know." He shot a subtle glance at his friend, just in time to see Halt's eyebrows draw together.

"What do you mean?" Halt's lips twitched down, a crease in his brow and a hesitation in his voice.

Crowley shrugged, striding along with all the confidence he didn't feel. "I'm going to ask her out," he admitted.

Halt stiffened, repulsion rising in his stomache, a deep sense of black forboding in his heart. "Why?" he asked carefully. Crowley let out a short bark of laughter.

"I like her, you idiot," he said. "Does it bother you?" His eyes were peircing shards of glass, demanding answers from the uncomfortable young man in front of him. Halt's jaw was tensed and strained, the pallor of his face evident even under his hood. Come on, Crowley thought, just admit you like her so I can compete with you.

"It's not any of my concern," Halt murmured. "Do what you want."

He was too stubborn. Crowley chewed the inside of his lip, surprisingly dissatisfied. It didn't seem right to steal the girl his friend- his brother- so evidently liked, but if Halt would only admit to liking her they could compete for her, or support each other, or just do something that might give Crowley a chance. Because if he left things how they were, sooner or later, he would become the tag-along when they got together. They couldn't keep denying their connection forever.

It would be better for Crowley to break the connection, if only he could think of a way. To destroy their friendship and offer his shoulder for Pauline to cry on. There was a bitter part of him that wanted to, but it was a part that he locked away for he could not break the hearts of the people he cared about the most.

"Tell you what," he said. "If you can get Pauline a better present than me, I won't ask her out." He'd let Halt have her.

Halt turned to him, a competitive fire burning. "I don't care if you ask her," he muttered, but the intenseness in his eyes betrayed his words.

"Whatever you say, Halt," Crowley said, grinning. "You'll lose anyway."

Halt growled at him. He flat kicked his friend's knee and Crowley howled his outrage as his leg buckled under him.

"What was that for?" he demanded, sprawled on the ground, face flushed with indignation.

Halt was already running for the stable, determined to get to the shops first to find the perfect present for Pauline.

"That cheater," Crowley hissed.

…...

Halt was in luck. It was market day in Wensley village, and dozens of stalls were set up. Tendrils of smoke rose into the air, from where a succulant pig was roasting on the spit and date bread was baked over an open fire. Oxen and horses snuffled at each other around the square. Peasants traded whatever crops they hadn't given to the baron, nobles mingled among them without the usual restraints to buy whatever luxuries they could find and children skipped over the cracks of the cobblestones.

There was no need for Halt to tether Abelard, so he left the horse by a respectable white mare who seemed nice enough. The ranger horse whuffled a greeting to the mare, but it was a reserved greeting because Abelard never liked it when his master ran off alone.

"I'll be fine," Halt rolled his eyes at his horse's concern. He felt eyes watching him and spotted a young child.

"Daddy," she called. "Can rangers talk to animals?"

Halt was used to the general reaction of people to rangers- the fathers hurried his daughter away, his fingers forming the sign of the cross and the crowd parted at a glimpse of the grey green ranger cloak.

What he wasn't used to was the rush of emotion prompted by what Crowley had said, about asking Pauline out, and worse, when he asked if it bothered Halt. Because it did bother Halt, though he wasn't sure why. Crowley was his friend, Pauline was his friend, and he should be happy for the both of them. So why was he revolted at the thought of them together? Why was his heart beating at ten thousand miles an hour?

He hated the idea of Pauline being Crowley's girlfriend. Despised it. His chest was being squeezed, he was suffocating and he just didn't understand why.

Halt bit his lip. There must have been a time when Crowley realised he wanted to be more than friends with Pauline. That he...he wanted to kiss her...and hold her. Feel her soft skin, her lips pushing against his, the musky scent of perfume enveloping him and strands of her hair brushing his face. Except Halt wasn't thinking of Crowley anymore, in his mind it was himself so close to Pauline.

"Can I help you sir Ranger?" He was startled out of his thoughts by a tentative shop keeper. In a foul mood as he was, Halt couldn't help glaring at the man from underneath his hood for interrupting his train of thought.

"Yes," he said shortly. He scanned the stall, took in the array of jewellery on display and the fine silk scarves. Halt didn't know the slightest thing about jewells or fashionable scarves; he could feel a mounting sense of hopelessness in his inability to buy Pauline a good present.

"We have the very best prices," the shopkeeper's voice was just above a whisper and he licked his lips, nervous at being around the ranger.

Halt shook his head, frustrated. Nothing leapt out at him and besides, despite what the shopkeeper said, it was expensive and he didn't have a lot of money.

He hoped he was right that Crowley was bluffing when he said he knew what he was getting her.

…...

When Crowley picked himself up from the dirt and glowered at Halt's retreating back, he knew he didn't have a hope of reaching the market first. And he knew that if there was something really good there, Halt would buy it, so he couldn't take the risk of buying it himself in case Halt had already bought it and then they would end up getting her the same present which completely ruined it. So he had to find something amazing that Halt would never think of, but also that Pauline really wanted and didn't know she wanted because if she knew she wanted it, Halt could probably figure out that she wanted it and buy it for her...

Crowley was starting to confuse himself. He shook his head to clear it.

Of course, he had something Halt didn't have. Natural charm. Yes, Halt's grim humour was appealing, but he was shy around people he didn't know well and that was where Crowley's advantage lay. The sandy haired ranger was open and friendly and had no trouble talking to anyone- or asking them what their friends wanted for their birthday.

With his solution in mind, he found himself whistling a jaunty tune as he jogged back to the castle and up the stairs. His sharp eyes made out the vivid red hair of Pauline's friend and he hurried over and slung a confident arm around her shoulders.

He was not prepared for the ear splitting shriek she let out, or her flinch, or her arm swinging around to hit him. Crowley ducked, somewhat bemused.

"I'm not evil, or anything," he said. "There's no need for that reaction."

She let out a breath and smiled, though her shoulders remained stiff. "Of course not ranger, I didn't think you were. I just didn't hear you coming."

Crowley grinned sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't mean to scare you. Hey, you're Pauline's friend, right?"

"Yes, and you're her friend too. Ranger Crowley, right?"

"Aha. And your name?"

"Sandra."

"Well, it's an honour to be acquanted with you Lady Sandra." If he'd had a hat on, he would have swept it off in a flued movement as he kissed her hand. As it was, he gave his deepest, most flambuoyant bow. A quite gallant and courteous action, or at least Crowley thought so.

"Listen, Sandra, about Pauline's birthday," he began. She cocked her head, and he took it as an invite to keep going. "I want to get her a very special present. I was hoping you might have some ideas?"

Sandra giggled, her eyes lighting up in such a way that he was vaguelly unnerved. She seemed to be studying him, visibly sizing him up from head to toe, that odd little giggling burbling from her throat. As a ranger, Crowley was brave enough to stand his ground, though he really was quite disturbed by the gleam in her eye.

"Oh, a special present, huh?" Sandra clicked her tongue. "I would recommend a diamond ring. Or chocolates. Or roses are nice. Or chocolate and roses."

Crowley thought about it for a minute. "Well, okay, but those things are all very common. I want to show that I really put a lot of thought into it. Is there anything she deeply wants?"

Sandra shrugged. "Sorry Ranger Crowley, I can't help you. There's nothing, as far as I know."

Crowley sighed. "That's alright. Thanks for your help, Lady Sandra."

Sandra nodded and curtseyed breifly, still a little awed that she was talking to a ranger, even if she didn't believe them to be sorcerors.

Crowley ran a hand through his hair, leaning against a banister. Maybe he shouldn't have gone to find Sandra; it gave Halt a head start at the market and gotten him nowhere. He'd been overthinking things earlier, he decided; Halt wasn't such a skilled shopper to find the perfect present for Pauline. It was best to head over to the market right away and buy the best thing he could find.

"Ranger!"

Crowley glanced up at the interruption. A page was hurrying towards him, and he stopped before the ranger, out of breath.

"Ranger, the Baron wants to see you."

…...

Abelard and Cropper whinied to each other now and again as the cantered out of Redmont. Their hooves disturbed the fragile beads of dew on the grass, and a faint breeze stirred their manes.

"So why are we going to Gorlan exactly?" Halt asked. As soon as Crowley had found him, the two had set out for Gorlan fief and he was bristling with impatience for he hadn't gotten a detailed explanation yet.

Crowley shrugged. "There has been some rumours about Baron Ceder of Gorlan. Apparently, he isn't too loyal to the throne. Prince Duncan sent a message to Redmont's baron about this, and he agrees with the prince that someone should investigate."

"Someone being us," Halt guessed and Crowley grinned.

"Well, you actually. But the page saw my cloak and got us confused. And I figured since I'm in Redmont anyway, I'd help you out." Crowley had been escorting a young noble to Redmont fief, had heard about Pauline's birthday, and decided to stay for a few days for the celebration.

"I'll always be in your debt," Halt said sardonically. "So what are we supposed to do in Gorlan?"

Crowley waved a careless hand. "Oh, we're just to keep an ear to the ground. It's been arranged that we'll be meeting with the baron and his son." The ranger of Gorlan had been injured and they used that as an excuse- they were checking up on the fief and helping with some of the injured ranger's workload.

"Alright." Halt stretched his muscles, drumming his fingers on his longbow. He'd never been fond of Gorlan; it had always seemed a dour place. "What's Baron Ceder's son's name?"

"Morgarath," Crowley answered. "What a name to call your son! Doesn't it just send shivers down your spine, as if something bad is about to happen?"

Halt had to admit to himself that it did. But he was also busy worrying about Pauline's present and didn't give it too much thought.

Gingerbread ranger-shaped cookies baked by Jenny Dalby herself if you know who Sandra is in the books.

By the way, I know my RA history is way out of whack, there's no need to comment on that. Well, you can if you want. I have read the 11th book, I'm just ignoring it lol.

Don't worry Crowley, Pauline might love Halt, but I'm still swooning over you. Oh why couldn't John Flanagan write you as a young man...why couldn't you have been a main character?

Is it true that there's going to be a book about Halt and Crowley when they were young?