A confetti gun blasted with a migraine-inducing bang for what seemed like the umpteenth time in a row, sending little pieces of colorful paper floating from the ceiling.

Arturia winced, gripping her glass of water so tightly that her knuckles turned white, watching in exasperation as the sweaty mass of teenagers roared in approval, chugging back their icy cold beers and gyrating to some obnoxious EDM song. Even more vigorously, if possible.

She wished that she could be anywhere but there, trapped inside the mansion that belonged to the ridiculously wealthy Kirei Kotomine (whose house had been chosen solely for the reason that his parents never seemed to be home) for some stupid after-prom party, with none other than the king of arrogant pricks as date.

And at that moment, Arturia knew that she wanted out. For Christ's sake, this was way too much for her to handle. Avoiding him among hoardes of mostly inebriated teenagers, trying to dodge the projectile vomit? No thanks.

She shouldered her way through the crowd, occasionally stumbling in her clunky white heels. Invigorated by the sight of the door, she lunged forward to quick her pace, only to run into something that felt sort of like a refrigerator.

An insufferably arrogant bastard of a refrigerator, to be exact.

"Hey, Gil," Arturia grated out, failing to mask her scowl.

"Oh, come on, is that all I get?" Gilgamesh grinned crookedly, gulping down what was left in his beer can. Wiping a dribble off his chin, he frowned patronizingly at her. "Is it just me, or have you been avoiding me?"

Arturia just barely bit back a sarcastic retort. "Well, I'm kind of tired. You know, studying for exams and all. My mom's picking me up in about five minutes, so if you'll excu-"

"Nothing to worry about, Artie!" Gilgamesh exclaimed, slinging his arm around her shoulder. "She told me that she was dropping by at 12:30, so we have plenty of time! She seems to like me a lot, y'know."

"Oh, that's...nice." She was more disturbed by her new pet name than the fact that her mother was in regular correspondence with the douchebag.

"Why don't you lighten up a bit? We're here to have fun, aren't we?" Gilgamesh tilted her chin up and pulled her closer to him; just inches away from his face, she squirmed away from the stench of vodka on his breath.

"Well, I guess I'll stay a bit." Arturia feigned reluctance, hurriedly surveying the surroundings for an escape route. Her gaze landed on the spiral staircase. "I have to go to the bathroom, so...see you later!"

Before he could even begin to process her words, she was off, taking the velvet-carpeted staircase two at a time. Brething heavily, she swept her gaze across the second floor. Fortunately, it was deserted, and only the bathroom door was propped open.

In other words, a perfect place to hide out for a little while.

Arturia took off her heels, sighing in relief as she wiggled her numb toes, and scurried over to the bathroom barefoot. immediately slamming the door shut behind her and locking it. Once she deemed the coast Gilgamesh-free, she exhaled shakily and turned to the gilded mirror, pressing her palms to the frigid marble sink.

Letting out a growl, she twisted the intricately carved faucet and splashed a jet of cold water in her face, hoping that it would help to clear her head and give her a peace of mind.

Unfortunately, it did neither of those things.

Ugh, leave it to me to get myself into this mess, she thought, glancing around the bathroom. Behind her was the fanciest toilet she had ever seen in her life, and just to her right, an enormous bathtub obscured by a mauve curtain.

Arturia narrowed her eyes at it, the gears in her mind already whirring at high speed. Maybe there was a window behind that curtain. A window that she could use to climb to blissful freedom.

Flinging open the curtain with unnatural gusto, she let out hum of satisfaction when she saw that there was indeed a window. Already fantasizing about wrenching it open and leaping out of it with a feline grace that she didn't possess, she was interrupted by a smug voice. "Fancy meeting you you here, Pendragon."

Arturia did a double-take when she saw who it was. "Diarmuid?" she wheezed.

"The one and only." Diarmuid grinned up at her, spreading his arms. He was still wearing his crisp prom suit, a rose tucked into his breast pocket, and leaning nonchalantly against the walls of the tub, knees tucked into his chest. "What brings you to this humble place, my dear?"

"I could ask you the same question," she countered, still flustered.

"Well, we both have plenty of time to clear up any misunderstandings, so why don't you take a seat?" Diarmuid patted the spot across from him. "It's quite cushy in here, if I do say so myself."

Well, he was the only sober person she had seen in the last half hour. She gave a minimal shrug of her shoulders and complied, easing herself down into the tub and smoothing down her skirt.

"So, where's your boyfriend?" he taunted, his lips upturning in a smirk.

She scowled at the unpleasant thought. "He is not my boyfriend."

"Seriously? That's not what I've heard." Diarmuid cleared his throat, mimicking in a falsetto, "Hey guys! Guess who's dating Arturia Pendragon? Man, she's totally falling for me! She was practically drooling when she told me that she wanted to go to the prom as my queen."

"That little bastard," she grumbled. "That is not what happened."

"So why did you say yes?"

Arturia let out a huff of frustration. "Because I didn't have any other choice. He's been tagging along with me for the past six months, and you know, I thought that he was just doing a dare for one of his buddies, so I never thought much into it. Then, two weeks ago, on our way to calculus, he whips out an ukulele out of nowhere and starts singing about how he loves me as much as he loves goat cheese and wants to go to the prom with me." Diarmuid let out a derisive snort. "Everyone was staring and some freshman sidekick of his pulled out his video camera and starting video-taping it, so I panicked and told him yes."

"Well, that I can believe." He stifled a snicker. "I'm assuming you're not having fun?"

She let out a groan. "I didn't think that it would be this bad. But then again, what was I supposed to expect from something like this?"

They lapsed into comfortable silence.

"So what's up with you? Where's Sola?" she asked, grasping for conversation topics.

Diarmuid let out a bitter chuckle. "In the basement, presumably making sweet love to Kayneth."

Arturia gaped at him. "No way. You're joking."

He gave a sad shake of his head.

"God, aren't you at least going to do something about it?"

He shrugged, his lips pursed. "Honestly? I don't really care. I've known that she's been seeing him behind my back for...what? A couple of months now? I don't even get why I dated her in the first place. Break-ups are a pain in the ass, so I never really bothered with it."

"Well, you could have at least asked someone else to prom." She folded her arms across her chest. "If you want to know what I think, you could have gotten any other girl you wanted."

"Including you?" he quipped, followed by an uncomfortable moment of silence. He braced his hands in surrender, laughing. "Geez, Arturia, don't give me that look. It was just a joke.

"You were planning to escape, right?" Diarmuid quickly changed the subject, standing up and dusting off his pants. He held his hand out to her. "Well, lucky for you, I've decided to become your accomplice for the night. Your partner-in-crime. The Batman to your Robin."

Failing to suppress a smile, she took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "Alright, fine. It's a deal."

"Excellent!" He peered out the window and frowned. "Well, it's quite the distance, so you probably shouldn't jump unless you want to become fertilizer for the personal garden of Kirei Kotomine...so we're going to think of another, just-as-brilliant strategy."

"This is going to be absolutely disgusting, isn't it?" she said feebly, dreading what was about to come.

"Depends on what your definition of disgusting is," Diarmuid replied, hopping out of the tub and lifting up the cover of a nearby laundry hamper. "Great! Kirei Kotomine is like any other senior and therefore a total slob." He grinned triumphantly, tilting it to the side to to show her the contents of the hamper: piles upon piles of dirty clothes.

"Wait, so-"

"We'll fashion his Wonder Woman boxers into a rope, tie it to the faucet, and throw it out of the window. I'll climb down first, and then you can go. I happen to be sort of chivalrous, so if you fall, I'll be there to catch you." Noticing the dubious look on her face, he prodded her shoulder, asking, "You do believe me, right?"

"Um, I'll take the chance." She nodded, before declaring, "But I refuse to touch those boxers any more than I have to."

He let out a theatrical sigh and kneeled down, fishing out two pairs of boxers from the pile of dirty clothes. Barely blanching at the sight of them, he knotted them together with superhuman precision, before reaching in to tug out yet another. "Fair enough. It seems like Batman is riding solo on this mission after all."

It was strange, to be in such close quarters with Diarmuid, with whom she had a very brief history. The two of them had been lab partners sophomore year for a semester, and were in the same homeroom junior year, but had never found the time to really get to know each other. The extent of their relationship was greeting one other in the hallways, perhaps even sitting at the same table during E period lunch, but she probably wouldn't even consider him a friend. Just a classmate who seemed nice enough but was dating someone she wasn't really fond of, a guy that tended to stay under the radar.

"All done," he announced, brandishing the underwear rope at her. Diarmuid slipped off his shoes and handed them to her, sidling back into the bathtub. "Would you mind throwing these out of the window for me? You might want to the same thing with yours," he suggested, tying the rope to the faucet head.

Arturia nodded, leaning over to snatch her high heels from where she had left them near the sink. She wrenched open the window and tossed their shoes out. They landed with a thump on the dewy grass.

"Alright, the underwear-rope is ready to go. Stage one of operation 'sneak out of your after-prom party with temporary accomplice' complete." He gave her a charming wink, tossing the rope out of the window. It swung unsteadily for a moment, before hanging limp.

"Here I go," he announced, nimbly ducking under the window's broad frame and clinging to the rope. After shuffling slowly down for a minute, he suddenly let out a joyful hoot and slid down the rope in one go, leaping off to land with a soft rustle. He cupped his hands to his mouth, shouting, "Come on, Robin!"

Arturia cautiously imitatied his movements and wrapped her arms around the frail rope, a certain queasiness filling her stomach. She was thirty feet above the ground with nothing but a rope fashioned out of boxers for support, climbing out of a window to escape from her crazy prom date with a guy she barely even knew.

Shut up, Arturia, she told herself. This is not the time to chicken out.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she loosened her grip and allowing herself to slide down at breakneck speed- a feeling much more exhilarating than she had expected.

Before she could hit the ground, Diarmuid gathered her in his arms, his hands hiking up her dress and sending a cool breeze gusting over her bare shins. Their noses were barely inches part.

Seemingly oblivious to the fact that she had been staring at him far too long to be socially acceptable, he smiled and lowered her to the ground, clapping her on the shoulder. "Fun, right?"

All she could do was nod, still breathless.

The two of them stared at one another for a moment, before bursting into laughter. It was a bubbly feeling in her chest, one that could only be expressed by the loud, undignified guffaws that pierced through the chilly spring night.

"Alright, so what's the plan?" Diarmuid asked, when they had calmed down enough to string a coherent sentence together.

"What do you mean?" She raised an eyebrow at him and opened her her purse. "I'll just call my mom, and get her to pick me up-"

Arturia stopped, her fingers unable to find the cold metal. She narrowed her eyes at the triumphant grin that spread across his face. "Okay, fine. What do you have in mind?"

"Well, how about we make a deal? If you go out for a late-night drink with me, I'll give you a ride home." He leaned towards her, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "How about it, Robin?"

"A drink?" She wrinkled her nose.

"Non-alcoholic, of course." He laughed, tousling her hair. "What kind of guy do you think I am? There's just a small café I particularly like and want to share with you. And don't treat this like it's nothing. It's not every day that I take a sort of female friend to my happy place."

"I'm honored, sort of male friend."

Diarmuid let out a snort. "Haha. Very funny."

After pretending that they were ninjas and crawling through a small thicket, hey found the front yard of Kotomine's mansion, where the limousine she, Gilgamesh, and his cronies had arrived in was parked.

Arturia followed her accomplice to a battered blue minivan. "Where did you get this piece of garbage?"

"Don't insult the Lancer. Say hello to the Lancer and beg his holiness for forgiveness." He crossed his arms over his chest, growing solemn. "Well?"

"Um, sorry," she mumbled. "I apologize for offending you, Lancer. I was a fool to not notice your beauty immediately and pray that you will not send me to, um...hell?"

"Your apology is accepted." Diarmuid opened the passenger door, patting the seat. "He has permitted you to sit in his holy bowels."

"When you put it that way..." Nevertheless, she climbed in, easing herself into the seat.

Within moments, he had started the car with a loud clang. Soon, they were pulling out of the street and heading out of the neighborhood.

"Do you mind if we listen to classical music?" he asked, one hand on the wheel, whizzing past dark patches of forest and streetlights.

"Go ahead."

Diarmuid smiled once more and leaned forward, pushing a button with the tip of his index finger. Lively dance music filled her ears, notes mingling together to create a beautiful melody that tickled her ears. It was familiar; her brow furrowed in concentration as she struggled to remember where she had heard it before.

"Mozart 378?" she guessed, accidentally voicing her thoughts out loud.

Diarmuid momentarily took his eyes off the road to glance at her, his lips curling into a smile. "Very good. I'm impressed, Robin. How did you know that?"

"Oh, that?" Arturia waves a dismissive hand. My mom's a music teacher."

"Really?" He swerved violently to the right in order to avoid a SUV, earning himself a loud honk from a nearby vehicle. The minivan lurched forward, throwing the two into the tight embrace of their seat belts. "What does she teach?"

Still feeling the after-effects of his terrible driving) she managed to choke out, "Violin. But she's also pretty familiar with the viola and cello. She teaches a quartet for fun, and they're playing that song now, so I hear it sometimes."

"That's amazing!" He beamed at her. "So what do you think of it?"

"The piece? Well, I have a lot of respect for Mozart- no, that's an understatement. I think he's a genius. And 378 happens to be no exception, so yeah...I really enjoy listening to it," she finished weakly, hoping that she didn't sound terrifically stupid.

However, Diarmuid only nodded. "You're in the school orchestra, right?"

She shook her head. "No, I take art. I don't play any instruments."

He tilted his head to the side. "Why not?"

"Well, I've tried, but I'm just not musical. It just about broke my poor mother's heart."

Diarmuid pondered this for a moment. "Huh, that's sort of weird. You seem like the type that would, you know, express her internal angst through the awe-inspiring power of music. You know, the quiet and independent and mysterious type."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I think you're just trying to come up with a substitute for 'nerd'. And news flash- it's not really working."

He laughed, lifting a hand off the wheel for a moment to brace it in surrender. "Okay, okay, just cut me some slack! I was trying to be nice, Ms. Ice Queen."

"What did you just call me?" She fumed, wanting to punch him in the face to wipe that stupid, smug smirk on his face.

After his laughter died down, he said thoughtfully, "Hm...how to put this in a better way? Well, I guess you don't have a lot of friends, so I figured that you're the kind of person who spends her time wallowing in her solitude by jamming to dark and depressing music. You're just kind of...mysterious. There just aren't that many people who know you that well. I guess that's why Gilgamesh started bothering you; he doesn't like it when there are things he can't figure out."

Arturia frowned as he pulled into the parking lot of a dimly lit café. "I think we're getting something mixed up here. One, I'm not emo. Two, I actually do have friends. You know, Iri and Maiya, right? And I guess Kiritsugu and I are sort of friends, when he isn't being a total ass. And three, Gilgamesh isn't that complex. There's nothing special about me; he just knew that I'd be easy to pressure into going with him."

They spent the rest of the ride in silence.

Diarmuid pulled into a parking lot, pulling the keys out of the ignition and kicking open the door. Jogging to the other side of the van, he opened the passenger door and helped her out, holding onto her elbow as he led her to the doors.

Mildred's, the sign read in faded blue cursive.

The place was quirky, to say the least. The tables were round and tiny, painted with murals of anything from antelope prancing through dry plains to magenta and neon green music notes. The chairs were mismatched; banana yellow matchbox chairs and fire engine red wooden bar stools and creaky rocking chairs sat side by side. Old photographs lined the walls, as well as dusty records, paintings, license plates, and strangely, what appeared to be the stuffed head of a buffalo.

A lanky guy in his twenties dusting glasses at the bar finally noticed the two, his eyes lighting up at the sight of them. "Hey, look who it is!" He ran from out behind the counter to give Diarmuid a clap on the shoulder. "How you been, old buddy?"

"Just fine." Diarmuid grinned sheepishly. "And yourself?"

"Never mind me!" He swatted Diarmuid on the forearm. "What about you? Showing up at eleven without even giving us a call? Geez, you teenagers are getting crazier by the minute."

"Sorry, man. Finals are pretty crazy, you know."

"Today's your prom, isn't it? So why aren't you getting drunk and partying like crazy with your buddies? Well, you are a bit of a weirdo." He let out a sigh, before finally noticing Arturia. "So, is this the girlfriend you've been telling me about? She's a real looker, I'll tell you that!"

Diarmuid shook his head. "Nah, that's old news. I'm here with Arturia, being that we're accomplices and fellow after-prom party escapees. I thought that since I was dropping her off at her house anyways and she had some time before her curfew, I'd just take her here."

"Since when do you have to escape an after-prom party?" The man scratched his head, puzzled.

"It's a long story." Diarmuid sighed. "Ah, where are my manners? Arturia, this is Antonio. Antonio, this is my sort of female friend Arturia."

"Pleased to meet ya, hon!" Antonio winked at her, before ushering them to a booth near the window. He whipped out a notepad. "So, what'll it be, cutie pies?"

She tentatively opened the menu, surveying the choices as Diarmuid ordered for himself. "Just the usual. I'm in the need for some comfort food tonight."

"Coming right up." He made a note on the paper, before turning to Arturia. "And you, my dear?"

"Um...an Earl Grey tea and a slice of marble cheesecake, please."

"Alright, be back in a few minutes!" Antonio flashed a dazzling smile at the two, before bustling away and disappearing behind a green checkered curtain.

"So, you have a bit of a sweet tooth, huh?" Diarmuid leaned forward, resting his chin on the back of his hand and studying her face carefully. "Who would have guessed?"

She shrugged. "Sort of. I'm just craving chocolate since all I really ate today were those cheese cubes. Anyways, if you're worried that it'll be expensive, I'll can pay-"

"Don't worry about it. I'll say this again: what kind of guy do you think I am? Do you honestly think I'd make a lady pay for her meal when I dragged her here in the first place?" He gave her mock offended look. "Rude. I'm not broke, you know."

Arturia gave him a long look. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Um, if you-"

"Here we are!" Antonio sauntered out of the kitchen, balancing a plastic tray in each calloused hand. He breezed his way over to the table and gingerly set the plates down before him. Clapping his hands, he positively beamed at them. "Alright, you two! Enjoy!"

"Thanks." Arturia gave him a small smile, before picking up her cup and breathing in the fragrance of her tea. She took a sip of it, unable to suppress a hum of satisfaction at the tangy flavor that lingered on her tongue.

"Cheers!" Diarmuid lifted a glass of lemon iced tea in her direction.

"So what's your 'usual?'" She gestured to the cut-in-half sandwich that sat pristinely on a checkered platter.

"Oh, this? Vegetarian chickpea salad." He picked up a half and bit into it, sighing in relief at the taste. "It's like the entire food pyramid packed into a single sandwich. How could you a possibly ask for more?"

"So I'm assuming that you're a health nut?" Arturia arched an eyebrow at him, using the side of her fork to pick up a bit of the creamy cheesecake. She tenatively placed it on her tongue, nearly moaning at the taste. "Oh God, this is amazing."

"What did I tell you?" He grinned, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Mildred's is the best for late-night snacks. And they're open until three, so if you ever need to escape another boyfriend some time, make sure to come find me!"

"If only for the cheesecake," Arturia muttered under her breath.

He let out a laugh. "See, Arturia, you're actually really funny. If you acted this way around everyone, you'd be really popular."

At a loss for words, she chose to remain quiet, shoveling cheesecake into her mouth.

"So, I've made it my mission to get to know Arturia Pendragon, future valedictorian and writer extraordinaire, better," Diarmuid announced. "And since I figured that it would take the next fifteen years of my life to do without any special method...I've decided to take the direct approach."

"Which is?" She took a sip of her tea, giving him a skeptical look.

"Twenty questions."

Arturia could only stare at him. "...okay."

"First question." He pondered this for a moment. "What's your favorite classic novel?"

"Of Mice and Men."

"Excellent choice. Next...favorite music group?"

"Three Days Grace."

"Cool.."

It went on like this, with him thinking of some question for her to answer, most of which she could answer in a heartbeat.

Until question number twenty. "Any weird fetishes?"

"Fetishes?" she repeated incredulously, before thinking hard about this. "Um, glasses, I guess? I've never really thought about that."

"I should get a pair then," he joked, pretending to push a pair of imaginary glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I have crappy eyesight, and I don't really like my contacts anyways, plus if I get a chance to turn you on-"

"Quit trying to flirt with me." Arturia made a face at him, before glancing at the clock and realizing that it was a quarter after twelve and her mom would leave the house to pick her up from the party any minute now. "Crap, we better leave. My mom's going to throw a fit if she finds that I'm not at Kotomine's party."

"Time flies when you're having fun," Diarmuid quipped good-naturedly, taking out his wallet and placing a few bills on the table. "Antonio! We gotta get going now! If this isn't enough, just put it on my tab!"

Without waiting for a reply, he stood up and yanked her out out of her seat, dragging her out of the café. He lifted her into the passenger seat, disappearing from her view and climbing into the seat besides her within seconds. "Address, milady?"

"45 Marion Drive-"

"Oh, you live in Westbury? That's just a couple of minutes from here. A friend of mine lives there, so I should be able to find it pretty easily." He started the engine, taking off and cutting across the path of a run-down Honda. "So, did you have fun?"

"It was cool." Arturia shrugged, already nauseated from his driving. She briefly wondered how he had managed to get his hands on a driver's license. "You're a lot nicer than I thought."

"You're a lot easier to talk to than I thought." In the darkness, she thought she saw a faint smile grace his lips. "Well, people are always full of surprises. I'm glad that you had fun, though. Sure beats hiding from your drunk date, huh?"

She nodded.

"You have to admit that the underwear thing was pretty funny. I wonder what Kotomine's gonna think when he sees his boxers hanging out of his bathroom window. We should have set up a camera while we were at it. Arturia and Diarmuid- special pranking services. We could have used it to blackmail him into being our personal slave or whatever."

He continued to prattle on and on about what had happened, his supply of energy seemingly limitless. Only half listening, she rested her head against the minivan door, drifting into semi-consciousness and allowing herself to succumb to her exhaustion.

Too soon, he was prodding her arm. "Hey! Arturia! Wake up!"

She sat up, eyelids still heavy, and wiped away the drool that was pooling on the edge of her mouth. "Are we lost or something?"

"I'll say this for the third time- what kind of guy do you think I am? This is your house, right?" He pointed to the house outside of his window, a streetlight casting a shadow onto his face.

Arturia leaned over him, and upon recognizing the magnolia tree in her front yard, nodded. "Thanks for the ride, Diarmuid."

"No problem, princess," he replied, climbing out of his minivan.

She opened the passenger door and hopped out, wobbling on her heels for a moment before regaining her balance. Walking around the minivan and approaching her yard, she was about to bid him good-bye when he thrust something into her hand.

A wrinkled piece of blue paper. She stared blankly at it, before squinting to the read the small print. A number scrawled in black pen, and a smiley face drawn underneath. After groggily gaping at it for a second too long, she looked up, startled to see his retreating back.

She lunged forward, tugging on the back of his shirt. "Diarmuid, I-"

Diarmuid whipped around and, a steady hand resting at the small of her back, pressed his lips gently against hers. She was too shocked to do anything but gape, soaking in his warmth. "Sleep well, sweetheart," he whispered after he had pulled away, and with that, he was gone.

She touched her still-tingling lips, watching his headlights twinkle down the street. "I must be hallucinating."