CHAPTER 3
Rendezvous

The night was at its prime and the dancefloor was crowded with a flurry of a dozen more nightlifers. The music transitioned into some Hiphop-RnB remix and the whole club started pounding wildly. Despite this amusing sight, the gentlemen kept their gazes locked on the ladies, watching them engage in their own conversation with keen interest.

"Ever wondered what those girls could be talking about?" Ike asked, leaning by the glass window as he took slow careful sips of his Jack Daniels.

"Probably makeup," Marth suggested. "Like which tones fit each other's face perfectly or something like that. Did y'all know that Peach actually opened up a conversation with me on that once—asking if I ever use primer. Ugh, as if."

"Nah, since Peach's there—they're probably talking about boobs," a tipsy Snake chortled. "Or gossiping if Marth has a dick." Link laughed with the man, shaking his head with a grin he had no intent to hide from the prince who sent them icy scowls.

Mario relaxed in his seat. "Ahh, you men are sexist. They could be talking about something philosophical! You know, like existentialism." He took several sips of his Jack Daniels. "Mama, I could really use a chaser now. My mouth's numbing, argh."

"Well instead of playing this stupid guessing game," Ike finished off his drink and slammed it on the table. "Why don't you pussies head down and ask them yourselves?"

Not wanting to be cooped up in the room despite the luxury treatment, Mario almost immediately stood from his seat. "You know what? That sounds fine with me. Shall we?" He makes his way to the exit and gestures for the rest to get off their lax asses. As soon as everyone had gotten up and started wobbly walking down the stairs, Mario secured the room with his biometrics. "Let's a-go."

"Then there was this one Brawl, I accidentally shot Link in his… uh, family jewels with my Light Arrow. Though I really didn't mean to, honest!" Zelda laughed, downing her (counted) sixth shot. "But his face—goddesses, his face was priceless!"

"Cheers to that!" Peach blared, tipping her glass at the woman. With her laughing ceased, she tried tackling another topic. "Ooh la la, aherm. Well, speaking of Linky…" she began. "Why aren't you two going out yet?"

"Yeah," grinned Samus. "You two seem like, to be really close."

Zelda felt her cheeks grow warm, thankful for the dim lighting. "I—well, to be honest, I haven't given much thought about our relationship. I do like him, really. Years spent after he had saved my kingdom, our home…" she leisurely looked away, anywhere apart from the intrigued eyes of her friends. "I don't know but I might be falling for him."

Peach almost stumbled the drinks after friskily jumping like a six-year-old on Christmas day, her smile was left as wide as her eyes. Samus gave the Hylian a lighthearted nudge to the shoulder, a big smirk sealed on her pretty face.

"My concern is—well, it shouldn't even be a concern," Zelda continued, yet a little more sullenly. "I think that he only likes me like a sister because I'm his best friend. Won't it be weird to engage romantically with your best friend?"

Peach blinked in her bewilderment. "The fuck girl? Seriously?!"

"That is one hundred percent pure, organic, bullshit," added Samus. "I'd even bet my Power Suit that Link has to try hiding his boner every time he sees you."

"Could be that maybe she's out of his league?"

"That's true… could be the culprit behind the friendzone."

"Guys come on," Zelda interjected. "I'm the one in the friendzone—shouldn't it be that he's out of my league?"

"Okay, so let's pretend that we all agree that you're deep in the friendzone," Peach said. "That's so effing solvable!" She writhed her hair with a finger with a sly grin that the bounty hunter knew all too well.

"And what brilliantly maniacal idea are you cooking up in that brain of yours, genius?"

"Aherm. I'm no witch doctor but maybe you'd both agree with me that no man can resist the love potion that is sex," Peach uttered out of thin air, saying the forbidden word as casual as the seasons come-and-go.

Zelda gave a look pure shock. "Wait, w-what?"

"What the fuck, Toadstool!" Samus chortled, brusquely slamming the shot glass on the mahogany surface. She felt the alcohol smash through her head but kept a seemingly unfazed posture. "Don't go trying to turn Zelda into someone like you."

"Hey, that's how I told—rather showed Mario that I love him," Peach argued. "And it was romantic! Sex can be romantic."

Zelda shook her head, lips sealed in a thin line. "Well, I don't think that would work for me."

"Why? He gay or something?"

"What? No!"

"Oh… You, um, sure 'bout that?"

Samus interrupted before Zelda could utter her defense. "Could be—I mean it could be helpful. Romantic lovemaking consummates the bond between you and your partner."

Peach agreed, clasping her hands together. "Ooh, someone sounds experienced. Do share."

"Knowing you? I'd rather not."

Zelda too looked at Samus with keen interest reflected in her eyes. "But please, Samus? Why even bring up the topic when you won't elaborate?"

Samus sneered. "Just because I bring something up doesn't obligate me to elaborate."

"...Is this about Snake?"

Both Samus and Zelda were caught off-guard. While Zelda nonchalantly drank the remaining half of the liquid in her shot glass, Samus gave the iciest glare her facial muscles could muster, but before she could mutter anything, the princess continued.

"I know what you're thinking, Sam; I don't know much of the details—I just heard it from King Dedede who y'know is Snake's roommate. If it is true then oh my God girl, ask Master Hand for thicker walls."

"I'll fucking kill that fat-ass blue chicken," Samus glowered. She gulped on one of the newly poured shots Zelda prepared, her grip threatening to break the overpriced glass. The bounty hunter silently recalled the series of events as they happened, her first time played like a vivid crisp-clear motion picture in her mind.

Samus carefully closed the door behind them, turning the lock until she heard the clear click. She let out a warm breath to ease down her pacing heart. Turning around to face the grim, roguishly handsome man who was waiting quietly for her.

"This is strictly business," she began nonchalantly.

"I know," he smirked. "Thought you'd even bring a contract with those terms and conditions shit."

"There isn't need, David," she inched closer to him until she felt his warm steady breath against hers. "You know the drill. No emotions. No falling in love. Just sex."

Snake folded his arms, studying the woman before him. He could tell it was going to be her first time—her body language betrayed her like a loud growling stomach screaming out in hunger. Despite all this, he'd lose a bet if he said that Samus Aran couldn't surprise him any further after he knew that she was a woman behind that Power Suit.

"Hm, I could work with that. No emotions—just like any other mission."

"Same here," she curled her brow. She blew out a held sigh, hands on her hips and awkwardly peered around the room. "So, how do we—!"

She was caught off-guard as Snake launched himself on her, his lips masterfully capturing hers in a heated kiss. Samus broke off for some air, moaning softly when he began tracing his hands around her body in search of her back zipper. Sliding it down, he then swiftly but gently slams her against the bed and freely explored the sensitive soft skin of her neck.

She remembered how soft and warm his lips felt, his beard tickling her skin excited every nerve within her craving body. His hands were calloused when he caressed her—exactly just as she wants it.

"My first time was with him, all right? We did it with no strings attached—everything just happened in the heat of the moment." She momentarily played with her glass, attempting to pause the memory of their dance from there.

Zelda mustered an innocent smile she decided to contribute her suggested analysis. "But circumstances weren't as you prophesized and you both actually fell madly in love with one another?"

"Um, not quite. I'm not sure if he reciprocates the feelings."

"Oh my fucking—! You're in love with Snake?! This some pipin' hot tea here," Peach gawked. "Girl. Hell, duh! Of course he loves you back you shithead—you're a fucking hot kickass bounty hunter!"

"Watch your mouth, Peach. Be grateful I didn't send a clean side sweep to your perfectly poreless face the first time."

"How many?"

Samus blinked. "What?"

"How many more times did you guys do it since the first?"

"Hell do I know. Surely no more than five times a week, our tournament schedules are tight."

"Surely as tight as your pus—"

"Well, thank you for sharing Sam!" Zelda chortled, interjecting Peach's fanciful vocabulary and finally feeling more at ease with the conversation. "I really appreciate it and I think it helped me uncloud some insights on my situation with Link."

Samus sympathized with her through a sheepish smile.

"So…" Peach couldn't stifle her naughty grin. "Zel, does this mean that you're ready to bang?"

When at the club engaging in some juicy conversations with friends, one is bound to finish their drinks too brusquely. Samus suggested that they order at the bar altogether since their table was reserved anyways. Getting there, a problem ensued as the heavy crowd of sweaty thirsty guests separated the three.

Seated on the far left edge of the ebony marble bar, the bounty hunter skimmed through available bottles of hard liquor considering how she would like to have her drink customized. A tall, strapping European bartender grinned broadly. "Anything special in mind, love?" he asked in an almost comically seductive accent.

"Actually I'd just like an AMF, please. You could do the special," she smiled.

As he began to prepare the deadly concoction in a frosted shaker, some azure-haired man in a silver suit whom Samus hoped she never encountered before slipped onto the stool next to her.

"Give me the same thing," the man said, his voice was incredibly familiar but attuned to sound pretentiously smooth.

"You have gotta be shitting me."

"Hey Sam! Fancy seeing you here. I'm just hanging out with Mario and the dudes. Didn't know you and I order the same drinks," he winked, oblivious to the bounty hunter's disbelieved and disinterested cast.

"Marth, I'm here on a girls' night out," she deadpanned. "So it would be so nice of you to just… kindly go the fuck away?"

"You heard her Marth." The newcomer's voice made her palpitate.

Snake's unexpected person not only surprised the bounty hunter but the prince as well. One minute he looked like shit with his whiskey stained polo shirt and ruffled hair, the next he was this dashing stubbled Chris Evans in a gray-black James Bond suit. "You should look for someone else to screw you tonight—maybe Ike's available."

Marth glared daggers at the mercenary. "Fuck off, Snake! I was here first."

"I didn't know you two lovers hangout together," Samus chimed in. As soon as the bartender carefully slid her the blue liquid in a martini glass, she got off the stool and made her way to disappear in the crowd. "As I've said—I'm on a girls' night out. Now please excuse me as I'll be enjoying myself."

"I like the sound of that," Snake muttered, his eyes caught a glimpse of her as she left, focusing down towards places it shouldn't.

"You pig!" Marth blurted. "I won't lose to the likes of you, Snake. I'll show you—you're gonna lose in your own game. I'm not letting her go this time!" With that, the man ran off to find Samus, scrambling his way through the thickening crowd.

Snake snickered to himself. Heading to the bar, he asked for Kamikaze on the rocks as he lit up a cigarette. "This isn't a game 'till I start playing."

Samus could barely make out the high-pitched yelling of Marth's voice calling her name out like a broken siren. She made no attempts to suppress her groan as she turned around to see the enthusiastic young prince sloppily dodge his way through the crowd. "What now? I said go away, Marth."

"Hey—Um, w-we're over at the V.I.P. lounge. Perhaps, it would be nice if you ladies would join us?" Marth invited with a quaint smile, breathing heavily as he gestured to the stairs that led to the glass-covered mezzanine.

Samus considered his suggestion for a moment. Yes, it would seem like a dream for her and the girls to finally get into those private luxurious rooms that literally take years to reserve. But the idea that she and her friends would be locked in a room with her spruced up fuckbuddy, an ogling Marth, and other testosterone-plus-whiskey-fueled Brawlers was nothing more than a recipe for disaster.

"Uh, thanks but no thanks. Bye."

"Oh, y-you sure? We could arrange—!"

"Goodbye, Marth."

"Oh, okay… um, see you," Marth silently replied with a small frown.

Samus felt a slight guilt curl in her stomach for dismissing Marth like that—he was just being nice and all. A part of her wanted to head back and apologize, but the moment she saw Peach beat her to their cocktail table shifted her attention before she could act on the thought.

"Wow, fast service for the hoes, huh?" she grinned.

Peach scoffed, flipping the bounty hunter off and asked for their susceptible brunette friend. Samus, a straw pressed between her lips, gestured her eyes to the bar.

"Oh… boy. Bet she'll take forever to know what to get."

"Y'know that someone's probably gonna buy her a drink, right?"

At this, Peach's eyes gawked. "Oh shit."

On the opposite end of the bar where Samus had sat, Zelda stumbled uncontrollably as she was pushed back-and-forth by more intoxicated bodies. "Oh Hylia, why is everyone who stenches of sweat suddenly at the bar?" she revolted.

It turns out that a famous mystery celebrity has been spotted by the bar and so anarchic fans gathered to get a glimpse. The disinterested Zelda had no choice—she inconspicuously used Farore's Wind to teleport herself to a stool, startling a Toad bartender. "Hi there! The crowd here's crazy, isn't it?" she chuckled nervously.

"Uh yeah… Anything in mind?" He seemed nice enough to ignore that she just mysteriously appeared out of nowhere. "Happy hour lasts in ten, so you'd better hurry with your order."

"Yeah… I'll uh, get back to you later on that," Zelda said, averting her glance to the neatly stacked bottles on the towering backlit shelf. There were no menus nearby, no labels, no external cues she could take advantage of. The Hylian seemed desperate enough to just order some red wine.

"May I buy you a drink, miss?" A smooth, almost kind voice asked from behind, startling her just before she could ring for the peculiar bartender. Wise enough to consider that she shouldn't accept the offer but with a diplomatic air, she turned to face the man to properly refuse.

"I'm sorry sir but—oh! Link?"

"That's me," grinned the ever-cheerful elf. "I saw you head to the bar and well, you seem lost."

The princess felt herself blush lightly in embarrassment. She studied the Hero of Hyrule, garbed in a perfectly fitted dark grey suit that accentuated his sturdy shoulders and gently fell down his torso. "I am not lost, Link. I know exactly where I was going and what exactly I was going to get."

"Well little Toad-y here's waiting," Link gestured to the short nonchalant bartender who seemed like he'd been doing some overtime.

"Oh, yes—may I have some red wine, please."

"Sorry Miss, we don't serve wine here."

Zelda felt her stomach curl in the slightest. Her mouth went dry as she shifted her attention back to the intimidating stash of hard liquor and mixes on the shelf. From her peripheral, she saw a long cylindrical glass clasped on Link's hand and with a lack of better judgment, skillfully grabbed the drink. She sent him a playful smirked as she sipped on the black straw.

"Heeey, I wasn't done with that," Link pouted.

Zelda's eyes twinkled at the taste. "Wow, this is really good. What's in this?"

"It's called 'Long Island'. I don't exactly know what's in it—cola and vodka, maybe?"

The princess continued sipping. Albeit Link adored watching her enjoy his drink, he's overprotective façade took over and his soft gaze befell into a sterner one. "This isn't a place for a princess of your stature, Zelda. How the hell did you allow yourself to be swayed in coming here?"

His words startled her. This wasn't something she had expected from the man who persuaded her to take a break from palace life and join the Super Smash Brothers. "I wasn't swayed or pressured, Link. I came here on my own intention."

"Yeah, but Peach started it—"

"It doesn't matter who started it. King Dedede would have thrown a wild party like this and I would have wanted to join in. You know far better than to treat me like a child."

Link sighed, brushing a hand through his sand-blonde hair. "I'm just after your safety, Zel! I don't care if we're best friends, you're still my princess, the goddess reincarnate, the—"

"I am perfectly knowledgeable of my heritage, thank you!" barked Zelda. Knowing full well their argument was futile and would just end up badly, she quickly recovered herself and exercised the mindfulness techniques Mewtwo and Lucario had taught her. "Please, Link. We're not in Hyrule for now. I am not Princess Zelda—just Zelda, your best friend."

Surrendering to his own argument, Link nodded quietly. Before he could mutter an apology, a deafening high-pitched shriek alarmed the pair and both instantly went into battle mode.

"Get away from her you rapist bastard!" Peach's unhindered strength plunged her way through the dense crowd. "Fucking molester—I'll show you what real abuse is!"

"Peach!" Zelda stepped in, using all her strength to slow down the murderous woman. "It's okay! It's okay, it's just Link!"

Almost abruptly, the seething woman snapped into her old cheerful self. "Link! Oh my," she gushed. "How embarrassing of me. I'm sorry, just being protective over our little Zellie. So, what're you doing here?"

"Just hanging with the guys," Link smiled casually. "Snake suggested we head over the shooting range but Mario got a call that he's won the bid to some fancy room in this club."

"Wait, so Mario's here?"

"Yeah. Plus the usual bastards—Ike and Marth."

"Mario is here?!" she fumed, caring less of the two blue-haired dimwits. "How dare he bring his ass out here without me knowing!"

"But Peach," Zelda looked at her confused. "Wasn't that Mario on the phone just before noon when we went shopping for your shoes? You even agreed to him coming back to the mansion after midnight."

"Oh really? Oh my gosh, so embarrassing," she said, biting the insides of her cheek. "Ugh, these drinks are making me so ditzy." She returned her attention to Link. "Where exactly is this 'fancy room' which he gambled for again?"

The blonde woman traced to where his finger pointed—towards the crystal-clear glass room that speckled against the lights stretching across the club. She blinked twice before clarifying with the elf man that they were staying on that beauty. Before Link could finish saying the one syllabled "yes", Peach pulled Zelda closer and begged her help to convince Samus that they stay with the guys instead.

Link rubbed the back of his neck. "I should probably ask Mario first but maybe you three girls might like to sta—"

"Fucking hell, you don't have to ask me twice." Peach dashed to their cocktail table, gripping tightly on Zelda's wrist.

Halfway there, a flurry of screams and hollers suddenly erupted. People were yelling about how the mystery celebrity was spotted again, and this time, Zelda could hear the poor man's voice cry out for help.

"Please, just let me pass!" Mario demanded as he swam through the litter of fans, all taking photos and holding out pens begging for an autograph. Squeezing violently from the congestion, a red-haired woman carrying some massive endowments reached out to the man, handing him a Sharpie.

"Mr. Mario, Mr. Mario!" she squealed in her top that barely passed for proper clothing. "I just looove all your games. Especially the ones you go in-and-out, in-and-out, in-and-out of those tight pipes. Sign my rack?"

Mario cringed at the woman's voice. He couldn't tell whether she was brain-damaged or just gets orgasms every time she tries to say a few words (or both). "Thank you for your interest in my work, Miss," he nodded and headed towards the opposite direction. "Unfortunately, I best be on my way."

"But Mario, I—!" She felt her face violently slammed down on the carpet with a heavy thud, pinned to the ground by a seemingly petite body with the strength of a grizzly.

"GET OFF MY FIANCÉ, SLUT!" Peach snarled, pressing her elbow against the woman's upper back.

"Mamma Mia! Peach!" Mario cried out.

Zelda and Link sprung into action as they escorted the enraged Peach off the poor, entombed woman. "Sorry about that everyone, she's had too much of a drink. Nothing to see here now—please go back to your business and enjoy yourselves," Zelda dismissed.

Link walked over to assist the pulverized fangirl. "Apologies for that, Miss. Next time, go get those plastic racks signed by a chainsaw instead," he chortled.

The woman swiped her hand away from the Hylian. "Go to hell," she seethed, picking up her broken heels before limping away to her friends.

Zelda crossed her arms over her chest. She pursed her lips, unable to stifle the growing smirk as much as she tried. "That wasn't very nice, Link."

"I know," he grinned, dusting himself off. "She wasn't very nice either."

The sound of bickering seized the attention of the two. Peach pathetically threw one of her heels at the man. The shoe bounced off his plump chest, and Peach began to tremble as her body was wracked with violent sobs. Mario leaned forward, gently burying her head against his chest. He stroked her back comfortingly. "I'm really sorry, mi amore… I did not expect people would recognize me," he endeavored to explain. "I didn't even touch her! I swear."

Zelda sighed. She knew how incredibly emotional of a person Peach was and how easily it was to alter her mood. She moved over to Mario, whispering briefly before she gave him a reassuring thumbs-up.

"What was that?" Link asked.

"You'll see."

Mario slowly moved over to Peach, alluringly whispering in her ear, "Dearest, would you like to move to the V.I.P. lounge with us? We could order your favorite peach-flavored cocktails all night long."

Peach tried to look at him menacingly but failed miserably as her frown turned into giggles. "Oh, all right… dear. But first, let's get Samus."

Mario gave his fiancée a quick peck on the cheek. "That's my sweet Peach. Let's go."

With that, the couple left hand in hand, giggling to each other as if nothing had happened.

Link was puzzled but deeply impressed. "What exactly did you do?"

Zelda smirked, intertwining her fingers with his. "It's a secret you'll never know."

…

I apologize for my lack of 'Ike' in this chapter. Anyways, so the guys finally met up with the girls: Snake and Marth make their hopeless attempts to woo an infuriated Samus; Link goes and gets Zelda a drink; Peach tackles Mario's slutty fan. Could things get any better? Oh yes, it will. In the next chapter, expect some adult goodies and see what the gang'll be up to at the V.I.P. lounge. Good day and/or good night!