Next Day,

Princess Peach's Pov:

I sighed as I made my rounds. Once again, Mario had gone out with Luigi in tow, leaving me to wander aimlessly through the grounds of our game. The castle my father owned was off in the distance. I could go back, I pondered, but I didn't really want to. If I went back, my father, a senile old mushroom-man, would sit me down and tell me an endless story. At least, until the player (aka. Mario) got there. It was sad, really. In his old age, my father's seniority worked in his favor. Each day, he forgot I was safe and sound. He'd think Bowser was up to no good and had kidnapped me and that our faithful plumber (don't ask me how THAT works) would be summoned to rescue me.

I get it, Mario's a great guy and my father has known him for, well…since the 80's, but seriously, a plumber?! He couldn't find a prince or at least someone who was an expert at defeating monsters. I often wonder what possessed him to call for a plumber in the first place. Did he discover Bowser had taken me away and then thought to himself: Hmm…my daughter's been kidnapped…I know! This calls for a plumber!

I love my father and Mario IS good at his job…it's just…to be honest, he's been leaving me a lot lately. He goes around Game Central Station hanging out with his brother and Yoshi. They usually go to Taper's which is nice, the first ten times around, but after awhile it gets boring. Sure, I could recruit Daisy, but all she ever talks about is Luigi. She's obsessed and it's sickening! To be fair, when we first opened up, I was constantly rambling about Mario. It's true, back in the 80's, we were the power couple. We did everything together. He'd spend all day saving me from Bowser and then we'd hang around Game Central. I was on his arm and it was wonderful. We still go out from time to time, but it's not the same. Now we do it, not for romance purposes, but just for show. To give faith to the newer couples, to say that we do not care that I am a beautiful princess and that he is a servant, we make it work. Love makes it work.

We are fooling ourselves.

I look across the empty grounds. I have never felt so lonely. The brick castle rises blandly across the neatly cut grass. A faint wind blows in my direction. It's a perfectly normal function. Sometimes the wind blows of its own accord, though it doesn't really need to. I find comfort in it though. After all, if the wind did not blow randomly, what else did I have to look forward to?

I could always talk to Bowser. In the beginning, it had been clear that Bowser and I were the farthest thing from friends that there was. But lately I've been talking to him whilst waiting for the player to get to the part in the game where he or she must defeat Bowser. I thought back to our conversation just yesterday afternoon…

….

There I was, sitting on the platform at the end of the game as always, waiting for my next cue. When Mario would gallantly save me from Bowser, I'd appear on the screen to give my hero a kiss on the cheek and he would carry me bridal style to the palace.

Bowser sat nearby, picking at the rocky platform beneath him with his giant and black claws. I found myself studying him. It wasn't something I'd normally do. Then again, this player was being particularly slow. By this time, Mario would normally skip up to the platform before ours and Bowser would've left to fight him. This time, however, the player was taking his sweet time. So I studied Bowser. He refused to look up, which was fine by me, as we'd never really carried a conversation. After all, we were just doing our jobs and there was no need to talk.

His face was bent downwards, but even with my vantage point, I could see the multitude of scars running down his muzzle. I had never noticed before how beat-up and worn down he looked. His red eyes looked weary and bleak, as if he hadn't slept well in days. His claws were slightly worn down too. I noticed one of his hind claws looked bloody. He had clearly hurt it on the rough stone structure, though it was hard to notice without looking closely. I got up, pretended to stretch and yawn and when Bowser didn't look up, I tip-toed past him to get a good look at his shell. It was beat-up too. What probably started out as a nice, polished shell had been worn down by over thirty years of fighting and consequently, losing against Mario. My heart was wracked with guilt. It wasn't my fault, but to go through all that…suddenly I could understand his animosity towards Mario and my father.

I took a deep breath, gathered my courage, and then spoke up: "Does that hurt?"

Bowser jumped, clearly startled that after years of ignoring him, I had finally talked to him, acknowledged his presence. He gathered his composure surprisingly quickly, "Does what hurt?" He asked his gruff voice low and level as I'd ever heard it.

"All those…scars, on your shell and face?"

He turned to me, a look of genuine confusion and uncertainty in his eyes. He studied me for a moment, and then shrugged.

"You get used to 'em."

"Oh, that's just awful." I shuddered.

"All part of bein' a bad guy, I guess." He laughed, humorlessly.

That statement made me stare at him again. It had never truly occurred to me that being bad was so awful. I had lived my life believing that Bowser and every other bad guy for that matter enjoyed doing what they do, but what if…what if they don't? What if they in fact, hate being bad? After all, it can't be nice knowing that everyone automatically thinks like I do. All the stares, the points, the frightened whispers, looking back on it, I feel absolutely mortified. I've been so selfish in my belief that all bad guys are just that…bad.

"Do you like it? Being a bad guy, I mean?"

Bowser stares at the lava floor bubbling beneath us for awhile, contemplating his answer, before opening his mouth again.

"I've come to accept it. Used to be, I liked being bad, that's what I'm programmed for. Back in the day, there was nothin' I liked better than facing up against Mario. Then, it got old. I hated being looked at funny. I hated that everyone ran away from me, I hated that Mario was treated like a hero and me like a villain even after the players went home," He paused, "Then, I met Zangief and he introduced me to Bad-Anon where I met other bad guys who didn't like being bad. They taught me that even though I'm bad, it doesn't mean I'm BAD and really, it's not like I have a choice." He shrugged again.

I nodded, though his answer didn't satisfy me. He accepts that he's bad, because he HAS to. Again, I feel guilt make its way into my system. There's nothing I can do to help, I know, I just wished I could.

Suddenly, the *ping, ping* sound of Mario skipping along filled our ears. Bowser smiled as the machinery kicked up. The swishing of platforms with multiple spikes attached to them filled the air. I knew the player would have to navigate the spiked platforms just so to face Bowser. A siren, inaudible to players, announced that the player had succeeded and that Bowser would have to go.

"Well that's a-my cue, Princess." Bowser said, winking playfully.

I smirked, "I'll see you around."

Bowser nodded and turned to leave before I called after him: "Oh and Bowser…" He turned around and looked at me expectantly.

"…If you ever want to...to talk, I'm always around," I smiled.

Bowser grinned toothily, "Thanks Miss Peach." And with that, he turned away.

….

The memory brought back the warm feeling I got when Bowser flashed me that goofy smile. I smiled automatically. That talk with Bowser was more natural and less awkward than anything I had experienced with Mario lately. I know it's wrong, but I'm starting to like that giant "brute."

"Come on, Ralph!"

The shout brings me sharply out of my reverie. I look up to see two figures heading for my castle. One is huge. He has messy rusty brown hair, faded red overalls cover a faded white tee, his broad shoulders and large arms are attached to two ridiculously oversized hands. I know him, I've seen him around, he's Wreck-It-Ralph, a bad guy. I'm instantly suspicious. Then I sigh inwardly, wasn't I just thinking about how Bowser told me not all bad guys appreciate the stereotype? Besides, his story is all over the arcade. He risked his life to save everyone. He is no longer a bad guy, he's a hero.

It's then that I notice his companion. She is tiny, and at least a third of Ralph's size. Her candy-coated and raven-colored hair is pulled back into a ponytail held together by red licorice. Her blue jacket is interlaced with licorice as well and her skirt looks like two Reece's cups pulled upside down. I recognize her too. She's Vanellope Von Schweets, the new leader of Sugar Rush and the very program Ralph had nearly died to save.

Her tiny hand is encased by one of his, but she's easily tugging him towards the castle. I can't help but chuckle. He looks rather uncomfortable, but he's letting her drag him anyway. Of course, I know there's no way Ralph couldn't break away from her if he wanted to. It makes their being here all the more intriguing.

"I really don't think we should be here, Vanellope!"

"But you SAID I could pick where we go today, and I want to see what that castle is like!"

"Why? Before yesterday, you didn't know anything about Mario. In fact, I'm not really sure why we're here at all."

"I just wanted to see how other princesses live."

"Oh. So you're a princess now?"

"No, I'm still a president!"

"Then why-?"

"I just thought it'd be nice to see where Princess Peach lives."

"Princess Peach? Since when do you care about Princess Peach?"

The little one looked away, even from where I was, I could see her blush. "I—I don't. I just…wanted to see what other castles are like and how other rulers live, that's all." I didn't know her very well, but I could tell this Vanellope was lying through her teeth and I had a pretty good idea as to why. I decided to spare her any further questions by striding up to greet them.

"Hello, my name is Princess Peach. I don't believe I've seen you around here before." I said, beaming.

Ralph jumped and stuttered, "Oh, your majesty! I-I'm t-terribly sorry, heh, me and my friend here were just uh, l-leaving."

Vanellope fixed Ralph a pained stare, but he didn't notice. Then she turned toward me and smirked, "Oh, no! We weren't leaving. I am President Vanellope Von Schweets of Sugar Rush and this…" she glared pointedly at Ralph, "…is Ralph from Fix-It-Felix Jr."

I nodded and smiled warmly, "I've heard of you two before! You're the ones every program is talking about. It's very nice to finally meet you! I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I thought I heard you say you want a tour of my castle? I'd be happy to show you around!"

Ralph paled, "Oh no, we couldn't possibly…!"

"Ralph, don't be rude, Princess Peach is offering to show us around. As her guests we should indulge her." Vanellope flashed me a grin.

"Really, it's no problem! I didn't have any plans for tonight anyway."

"See!" Vanellope yelled, triumphantly, "We are saving her from a boring evening alone!"

Ralph looked visibly upset, but I could tell he was about to give up. Heaving a sigh he shrugged, "Well ok, if it's not too much…"

"Oh, it's no trouble at all!" I beamed, "and maybe afterward, you can join my father and I for some dinner."

Vanellope whooped and Ralph groaned as I led them across the grass field toward my castle. I didn't know these two, but I had a feeling Vanellope and I had more in common than she thought.