It was perhaps one of the most perfect days I'd ever seen this side of my stay at the Smash Mansion. The sun hung in the cloudless sky like a giant, flaming bird, and what better to do in such weather than spend some time at the beach?

I shift awkwardly, swaying back and forth, taking in the feel of the warm, golden sand beneath my bare feet, and regretting having come out here wearing nothing but a bikini that is the tiniest bit too skimpy for my liking, as I wait for Marth, the kind-hearted and handsome Hero King, to arrive. I really can't think of any possible reasons as to why he's slightly late. I know he can sometimes take forever and a day to get himself looking as fabulous as he does on a daily basis, but why would he bother if he was joining us at the beach? All of his friends, his fellow swordsmen, Ike, Link, Roy and Robin, were here already, and I allow myself a little smile as I watch them playfully and good-naturedly splash and curse at each other in the water.

Marth, what on earth is keeping you? I impatiently think to myself, as several minutes tick by.

I'm so focused on watching the other guys' antics that I jump when I feel a hand land on my shoulder. I whirl around, slightly startled, but I feel relieved when I see that it's only Marth.

So he's finally arrived. He certainly took his time.

"Hello there, Sam," the blue-haired swordsman says in greeting, and he smiles at me. As he does, I realise that he's wearing nothing but swimming shorts, and I can't help but notice how incredibly lean and well-exercised he looks.

Was I blushing?

Yep, I was almost sure of it.

God damn it, Samus. Stop acting like a schoolgirl.

"Um, hi Marth," I manage to say, awkwardly, after a brief moment. "You startled me. I didn't know you were there."

Marth puts his arms around my waist, and the feel of his soft, warm hands on my bare back makes me feel just a little self-conscious. The other girls whose company I share in the Smash Mansion are always saying to me that I'm lucky to have the figure I do, and that I shouldn't be afraid to flaunt it a little, but I honestly sometimes wish that I was just a little less… curvaceous.

"Well, I'm here now," the handsome swordsman says softly to me, before he leans in closer and draws me towards him in a tight, loving embrace.

Smiling happily to myself, I wrap my arms around him, and we hold each other for a few more moments, before Marth leans down and plants a kiss on my lips. Reciprocating his affection, I move my arms so that they're placed around his neck, and return the kiss, reveling in the sweet sensation of his soft mouth on mine.

It was so hard to believe that there was a time that, way back when, before Marth even joined the Smash tournament, I had almost completely closed myself off to the notion of ever falling in love. Skip forward a few years, and here we both are, steady partners in love, and enjoying each other's company.

I never knew I could have been so happy. So… fulfilled.

After a few seemingly endless minutes, Marth breaks off the kiss. He looks deeply into my eyes, and the look on his face - the tender smile, the warm sparkle in his deep blue eyes, the slight blush on his cheeks - is almost enough to make me melt. I'm sure he feels that way towards me, too, which just makes the warm, fuzzy feeling inside me increase.

Oh, Marth. I love you, I blissfully think to myself, as our eyes remain locked on each others for countless moments more.

And I really mean it.

Marth is about as perfect a romantic partner as they come, and for that I feel eternally fortunate.

The handsome Hero-King takes a hand from where they both rest upon my waist, and moves it to my long, blonde hair, which I have tied up in its usual high ponytail. Idly playing with it, twirling the soft golden strands around his fingers, he says to me, "So, Sam, what's got you waiting here for me? Something in particular you had in mind for us to do together, while we're here, is there?"

I pause. There isn't really - I hadn't actually planned what we'd both do here - but my other options honestly didn't look too appealing. If Marth didn't arrive, I'd have had to either hang around with the other girls, Peach, Zelda and such, and reluctantly put up with their sickeningly girlish behaviour, or play rough with the other guys, Ike, Robin and their friends. Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against those girls or guys personally, but today I'm really not in the mood for either extreme of behaviour - the girly and feminine, or the over-boisterous and masculine.

But now that Marth is here…

My mind has just gone completely blank.

I don't usually spend my time at the beach, or anywhere like that, so I wouldn't be very experienced in terms of enjoyable seaside activities.

Although…

I cast a glance at Marth's (as always) impeccably neat and shiny azure hair, and a wicked thought crosses my mind. What if…

I can't ignore the sudden urge that rises up inside me.

Without thinking, I break away from Marth's firm yet gentle hold and turn around, so that I'm facing the sea. The crystalline blue water sparkles enticingly, and even though it's usually a bad idea for me to get into any body of water (it's usually too cold, and I, somewhat unfortunately, am not immune to any sort of low temperature), I'm sure that the heat of the warm summer's day will have raised the temperature of the sea to a tolerable level for my body.

"Sam? Where are you going?" I hear the swordsman ask, behind me, as I purposefully walk off in the direction of the water.

I stop, look behind me, and, smirking at him, happily exclaim, "Race you to the water!"

Without further hesitation, I break into a sprint, as I head towards the shining, calm sea. A few moments later, I hear the sound of footsteps - Marth's, no doubt - hitting the sand, at a quick pace. I glance over my shoulder, and see that the blue-haired swordsman is, indeed, following me to the water's edge. Catching up with me alarmingly quickly, actually, and before I know it, as I gradually slow my pace and I'm just about to stop and step into the shallow, clear water, Marth turns and stops in front of me, blocking my path.

And I thought I was fast…

"Looks like I win, Sam," he says to me, a triumphant smirk on his face. "You're not fast enough, obviously."

Gingerly setting foot into the waves that softly lap against the shore, I smile to myself.

"Oh yeah? We'll see about that," I reply, as I walk into the lukewarm water. Thankfully, the water isn't too cold, and it's comfortable for me, for once.

Looking away from Marth, I quickly stride into the calm water, going in deeper and deeper, and break into a run. Well, as close as I can get to a run, anyway, with the increasing depth of the sea gradually slowing my pace.

I look over my shoulder, and see that Marth has taken the bait. He steps in after me, and slowly, carefully, picks his way through the waves towards me.

"What are you doing?" I hear him ask, from behind me, as I move ever forward. Soon, the water is roughly waist height, and I pause, waiting for the swordsman to catch up.

"What do you think?" I answer. "You didn't think we'd come all the way out to the beach and not go for a swim, did you?"

Marth reaches my side, and stops.

That immaculately straight and shiny hair… I can't resist the urge any longer…

"That wasn't what I meant-"

He doesn't get to say any more, before I quickly, playfully, put my hand in the pristine water and splash him in the face.

The expression on his face that follows is enough to make me laugh a little.

"What was that for?" he asks, as he irritatedly rubs his face with a hand.

I flash him a cheeky smile, before replying, "Sorry. I just couldn't resist."

Marth, on hearing my reply, tries to look cross with me. At least, I think he does. It doesn't look as if he manages to stay annoyed with me, however, as the next thing I know is the sensation of cool water hitting me in the face.

"What…?" I say, and see Marth laughing quietly to himself beside me.

"Sorry. I couldn't resist, either," is the swordsman's answer.

Oh?

I smile. Just another reason why I love Marth, really. He knows what my weak spots are, and he knows how to exploit them, without ever making me truly angry. I suppose he feels the same about me, when I purposely tease him.

I know he does. We'd never intentionally do harm to each other, physically or emotionally.

I keep this in mind as I prepare to retaliate.

Moving swiftly, I dodge another splash from Marth, and splash him viciously back, intentionally aiming for his ever-perfect and tidy hair.

The reaction I get, as I totally expected, is priceless.

"Why would you do that, Sam?" he replies, in an intentionally hurt-sounding voice.

Because you always expect to come out of any situation looking as pretty and perfect as you normally do? Because you always have to look your best, even if it's inevitable that something will temporarily change that?

"Because," I cheekily reply, " you always look far too splendid on a daily basis. Who wouldn't want to change that? To toy with your physical appearance?"

I'm just winding him up, of course, and I think he knows that, from his smart answer to my jest.

"You do, obviously, from the way you're acting," Marth casually answers, "but at least you're the only one who actually does anything about it."

"What? You're afraid other people will mess up your precious hair? Or cut it all off?"

There's a pause as I say that last question.

"Well, no, not exactly-"

I don't hesitate to give him another splash, again aiming for his neat blue hair.

"Gotcha!" I gleefully exclaim, as Marth irritatedly flicks the water from his face. His damp hair clings to his forehead, making it near impossible to keep it from his eyes, no matter how many times he tries to move it, as a result.

"And I've got you!"

It's too late for me to dodge Marth's attack by the time I hear his exclamation, and the next thing I know, he's soaked my long, blonde hair in revenge.

"What?" I ask, in a fake-angry voice, as Marth laughs to himself.

"Nothing," he replies, casually, as he splashes me in the face, hitting my nose.

I smile, and return the attack. I couldn't stay annoyed with him, even if I tried. He's just too… Marth. If that even makes sense.

But I wouldn't change the way he is, or the way we are together, for the world.

—

After about an hour or so (that's how it felt, anyway) of our fun and general shenanigans, when the water feels slightly cooler and I can't stay in it much longer, we decide to head back to the shore. Mercifully, the water never truly gets too cold, but Marth knows that I can't stay in contact with anything below freezing for prolonged periods of time.

It's late afternoon as we somewhat reluctantly make our way back to the golden shoreline. The sun hangs lower in the sky, but the overall temperature feels just as high as ever. Perfect for drying off, I suppose, as we step out of the water and back onto dry land.

"Well, that was a bit of fun, Sam," I hear Marth say to me, after moments of silence.

Fun? Did I really hear Marth say that an activity that messed with his flawless physical appearance was fun?

How odd.

Then again, he doesn't really mind when I tease him…

"Sam?"

I almost jump at the sound of my name. I hadn't realised I had gone so quiet, and hadn't made any effort to reply.

Nonetheless, I have to make an answer to Marth's statement.

"Yes, it was," I say, after a long pause.

It actually was a bit of lighthearted fun, to tell the truth. Seeing Marth's desperate attempts to avoid my carefully aimed splashes, and seeing his expressions as I landed successful hits that soaked his pristine blue hair, was perhaps one of the funniest things I had seen in a long time.

But now, the only thing we both want to do is to chill out and dry off under the golden sun.

We manage to find a spot, not too far from where everyone else is, that is just the right amounts shaded and in the open, to lie down, together, in the sand. Marth spreads out a thick, fluffy towel that he brought with him on the fine, soft sand, and settles down, getting comfortably positioned so that he's lying on his back.

I stand there awkwardly beside him for perhaps a moment too long. Should I get my own towel? Should I lie beside him? Should I…

While I'm still mulling over my options, the handsome swordsman moves over on the towel so there's enough space on it for two. He pats the remaining free space beside him.

"Sam, don't stand around like that. Lie beside me."

I look at his face. There's a hopeful, sweet look in his eyes. I can just hear his whole facial expression saying to me, "Pretty please?"

Oh well. I suppose I'd better, then.

As I sit down on the plush surface, I feel just a little foolish for not having considered that Marth would have wanted me beside him, and that I never considered it even once. Why, just why, would I lie on my own, when I have the nicest, sweetest, most caring lover in the world?

I wouldn't. So I won't. Not this time.

Ever so carefully, I lower my body into a lying position, so that I'm lying parallel to Marth. I can feel the dampness yet also warmth of his body next to mine, as I make myself comfortable.

But I'm not truly comfortable until I snuggle up a bit closer to him, and rest my head on his gently rising and falling chest.

As I do so, I close my eyes, and once again I can't help considering how lucky I am. How very, very lucky I am, to have someone like Marth.

I allow myself the tiniest of smiles, as I stretch out my left arm and place it around Marth's waist. I take in the soft contrast between his damp, smooth skin and the firm, solid muscle beneath.

I could literally just fall asleep here, and stay that way forever…

I'm snapped out of my thoughts momentarily when I feel Marth's hand on my damp, blonde hair, and then on the side of my face, where it lingers for a moment, stroking the skin.

Marth… I love you… I can't help thinking to myself, as I feel the warm, sweet sensation inside of me increase.

What makes me even happier, perhaps, is that the handsome Hero-King feels exactly the same way towards me.

That fact is confirmed, judging by what Marth says to me next.

As he moves his hand down to where my own rests, and lays it over mine, he softly whispers to me, "I can't remember the last time I felt this happy, Sam."

Really?

How sweet.

But… the truth is, I can't, either.

It seems, the only times I'm perfectly, truly happy, are those when I'm with my beloved swordfighter.

Up until a short while ago, when I was single and not even in the process of considering looking for love, that very thought would have scared me senseless. But now… it doesn't.

I can see now, why people spend so many hours of their lives looking for, defending, even killing for love. If I had to, really had to, I'm sure I would do exactly the same. More.

Marth continues.

"As you may know, there's always a lot on my mind, even when I'm away from home and its endless responsibilities. But you've taught me how to relax, and not worry about the little things that don't matter. Because those things-" he pauses, and places his hand beneath my chin, lifting my head slightly, so that I'm looking him in the eye, "-don't matter, not when there's something - someone - that does. And that person - the beautiful, brave warrior woman - is the only thing that matter to me, as long as I stay in within the walls of the Smash Mansion."

Upon hearing that statement, my heart feels positively ready to burst with the sentiment.

My eyes fill with tears of joy, as I reply, in a voice that wavers with emotion, "There's only one thing, one beautiful, respectable, kind-hearted man, who matters to me, too. And he's right beside me now."

Marth, too, looks just about ready to cry.

I hear the carefully controlled emotion in his gentle voice as he says to me, "I'll never stop loving you, Samus Aran, as long as I live."

"I'll always love you too, Marth Lowell, as long as I live."

As I lay my head back down, and register the gentle rise and fall of Marth's chest, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, I hear him whisper, "Let's stay here for a while. We're not in a hurry."

"Sounds good," I reply back, surprisingly sleepily, as I make myself comfortable.

I really can't help it, though. The even pace set by Marth's breathing, coupled with not only the beating of his heart, but the relaxing ebb and flow of the distant waves, creates a sweet lullaby that eases my mind into a calm sleep…

—

"Sam. Sam, would you please wake up?"

Slowly, I open my eyes, and the first thing I notice, apart from the lower position of the sun in the still cloudless azure sky, is Marth's hand slowly moving up and down, as he strokes my now-dry, long hair.

"Hmm? Marth?" I say, sleepily, as I gradually stir from my comfortable position, cuddled up right beside the loveable swordsman. "What were we doing?"

Marth continues to gently stroke my hair, as he replies, in a soft voice, "You're here, Sam, with me. At the beach, relaxing together in the sand."

Oh? Now I remember. I remember the outpouring of his love for me, my reciprocation of his affection, the offshore waves and the calming sound of Marth's heart lulling me to sleep…

It makes sense now.

That must mean… surely we've been here for a while now?

"Marth, what time is it?" I ask, as I rise into a sitting position, and run a hand through my tangled blonde ponytail. Naturally, from it drying out naturally, my hand gets caught on several knots, making it nearly impossible for me not to wince when it does.

Really, that's a pointless question to ask, as I know that Marth generally doesn't wear a watch.

"I think," he answers, eventually, "it's time we were going."

I almost don't want to go, though, strangely enough.

"But it's so nice out here, with you," I protest, when he rises from the towel. "I don't want to go yet."

Marth stands up, saying to me, as he does so, "Quit whining. You sound like a spoilt little kid."

I stick my tongue out at him, further proving his point. So what? It's fun to wind him up every now and then.

The swordsman laughs out loud at my rude gesture.

"Samus, grow up," he says to me, and tries to pull the comfy, silky towel out from under me.

Childishly, I pout, and say, defiantly, in reply, "No."

Why do I feel the need to act like this? I shouldn't.

"You're funny, Sam, you know that?" is the reply I get.

Am I? Maybe.

I stand my ground for as long as I can, but eventually, the laws of physics take their toll on me. The further Marth pulls the towel out from under me, the harder it is to stay in place, and in the end, what seems like a futile tug of war between us, ends with me clumsily falling into the sand, and the Hero-King swiftly collecting up his towel, with a smile on his face.

"I told you we had to go, Sam."

I look up, from my far-from-graceful landing on the sand, and see Marth standing over me, trying not to laugh.

Okay, okay. I get it. We have to go.

Sighing, I reply, in a fake-irritated tone of voice, "Okay, I get it, pretty boy. Now can you please help me up?"

The Hero-King stoops to my level, and, taking my hand, says to me, "Of course. Anything for my fair lady."

"Fair lady"?

Of course. Marth's royal upbringing would have, no doubt, nurtured in him an utmost respect for women like me. It makes sense, but since when did he refer to me as "fair lady"?

Odd.

I also notice that, before he helps haul me up from my awkward position, he doesn't hesitate to plant a gentle kiss on my hand.

Aww, how sweet… and totally typical.

It doesn't take much effort to lift me out of the sand, and soon we're ready to get on our way. Marth's right, actually. Despite the overall heat of the day remaining seemingly just as warm as ever, the sun looks as if it's nearly ready to set. It seems that everyone else isn't too keen on staying, either. It makes sense, then, that we have to go.

As we gather what little equipment we brought with us, we follow some of the others up the steps, and head away from our little piece of paradise. I would have thought that we'd all go back to the Smash Mansion, now, before it gets too late, but it seems that even the more stereotypically masculine of the guys - especially Ike, oddly enough - have other ideas.

Before they go home, they want to stop off and get ice cream, it seems.

Not a bad idea, but it really wouldn't be my cup of tea. Even on a nice, temperate day like this.

Marth doesn't let this bother him, however.

We're at the very end of the surprisingly long queue, so it takes us what seems like an age to get to the kiosk. After we wait for everyone else to hurry up and get their ice cream of choice (I can't help but notice that Ike, uber-macho and all as he is, gets a huge pink strawberry ice cream with rainbow sprinkles and matching strawberry sauce. Strange.), we're finally the last ones there.

I don't even fully realise I haven't decided which sort of ice cream I'm having until Marth asks me what I'd like.

"Sam? What do you fancy?" he enquires, awaiting a response.

Sheepishly, I reply, "I don't know, actually. You get yours. I don't need one, really."

"Nonsense. You can't go for a day out at the beach and not get at least a small ice cream. Especially not on a hot day like this."

"I don't need one. Just get what you feel like."

But, despite my vehemently insisting, the Hero-King won't take no for an answer.

Eventually, though, Marth thinks of a genius idea.

As soon as he accepts that I really wouldn't like a sweet treat, he comes back to me with a huge, whipped, vanilla 99-cone, complete with a chocolate flake.

I'm puzzled at first.

"Marth? Why on earth did you get something so big? Is it all for yourself?" I foolishly ask, not yet knowing what his motives were.

"Of course it's not all for me," Marth replies, in an amused tone. "No, I thought we'd share."

Share?

That's a nice thought. I wouldn't have got my own ice cream (I don't really have a sweet tooth, when all is said and done), but sharing? With my one true love? I can't turn down that notion.

That being said, though, the soft swirls of white and the crumbly brown stick of chocolate in the cone Marth is holding does look pretty tempting…

The handsome swordsman hands the cone to me.

"Here," he says, closing my fingers around the wafer cone. "You have the first lick."

Thanking him, I awkwardly sink my tongue into the creamy, snow-white heap of vanilla, and relish in the strong, sweet flavour that it leaves in my mouth. It's almost enough to make me regret not buying my own, but sharing with Marth seems to be the next best thing. Better.

Having taken my first mouthful, I pass the cone back to Marth, only for him to pluck the flaky bar of chocolate from the ice cream.

"You can have this, too, if you'd like."

I'd much rather he had it, but he insists, so I quickly take it from him, and contentedly munch on it while he takes his first bite out of the swirly, creamy mound that he holds before him.

I finish the chocolate, and strangely wish that there was more. I don't know why. Maybe falling in love with Marth opened me up to sweeter things than I was used to?

But while I take in the Hero-King's refined, handsome facial features, I can't help thinking what would happen if I shoved that ice cream in his face…

No doubt, just like what happened in the water earlier, the end result would be hilarious.

Without any further delay, I swiftly reach out and gingerly push the end of the ice cream cone, so that the whole thing connects, albeit gently, with Marth's pretty face.

His reaction, as I predicted, is priceless.

Annoyed, he pulls the sweet, sticky heap of ice cream away from his face, and I giggle quietly to myself when I see that my attack has left a smear of white around his nose and mouth, his nose in particular. A tiny white blob of cream rests on the tip of it.

"Why would you do that? Can I not enjoy my ice cream in peace?" he asks me, in a surprised tone.

No. Not when I'm around.

"I just felt like it," is my cheeky reply.

I swiftly take back the cone, not waiting for my lover to offer it to me again, and go to take another bite. I don't get very far, however, before Marth quickly reciprocates my earlier action, and pushes the heap of vanilla into my face.

Should've seen that coming.

So, naturally, I end up sporting a similar look to Marth - the highly unfashionable covered-in-ice-cream look, which makes him laugh.

"What?" I irritatedly ask, knowing full well why he finds it so funny.

"You've got white all over your face. It makes you look funny."

So do you, in case you haven't noticed. You thought your fabulousness would save you from looking like a right idiot?

"So do you," I retort, attempting to wipe away the mess with my hand. I fail, though. Instead of cleaning my face, I end up smearing the messy cream across my cheek.

Damn it, now I really do look ridiculous. I'm sure of it.

Marth doesn't seem to notice. If he does, he doesn't seem to mind that I'm standing beside him, totally not looking like a twat.

I'm pretty sure he doesn't mind, judging by what follows.

Slowly, he moves towards me, and wraps his hand around the one in which I hold the cone. He tilts my head, gently, so that we're face to face, looking into each other's eyes.

Despite the unsightly patches of ice cream that partially obscure his mouth and nose, no one can deny that his face is quite possibly one of the most beautiful things to have graced this world...

In reply, he says to me, in a low voice, as we gaze into each other's eyes, "But you never do. You couldn't look any worse, even if you tried, Sam."

Neither could you, I think to myself, as Marth leans in closer to me, his hand still firmly holding mine. Slowly, softly, he places his lips on mine, in a warm, tender kiss.

I can't help returning the display of affection. I return the kiss, taking in the soft texture of Marth's lips and the mild flavour of vanilla, that came from my jokingly shoving the ice cream in his face, and reveling in what might possibly be my favourite feeling in all the world - the feeling that, luckily, I have the secure love of the nicest (and, seemingly, most fabulous, but that's a thought for another day) man on earth.

As we both deepen the sweet sensation, Marth gently eases my lips apart, so that our tongues gently connect. Again, I can't help feeling that I was wrong to not want, not one little bit, anyone to love for so long, when this sort of thing is what I'd look forward to if I did. Back then, the prospect of anyone ever kissing me, especially in the passionate way that the heroic swordsman is now, I'm sure I would find absolutely disgusting.

But I don't care anymore, as is clearly evident.

As we prolong the fiery sensation of passionate love between us, my mind completely drifts away from our current situation. In the space of a few short moments in time, I've almost completely forgotten where we are, and how we've come to be here. All I can focus on is the tender feeling of Marth's soft mouth on mine, and the pleasantly tingly feeling coursing through my veins…

Eventually, though, Marth breaks off the kiss, and we subsequently find our gaze focused on each other's warm, loving, emotional-looking eyes.

They say that the eyes are the window to the soul, and looking into my dear Marth's own now, I completely believe it. His crystal clear, deep blue eyes could, quite possibly, lead me into his beautiful mind, and equally as beautiful psyche, where I'm sure his deep feelings of love for me dwell.

If the gateway to my soul could do the same for him, I'm sure he'd find the same feelings tucked away somewhere deep and profound.

Because our feelings for each other are never any different.

We're one and the same. Not in flesh, but definitely in spirit.

And it may be out of character for me to say so, but I wouldn't change that for the world.