Man, I am really, really sorry, you guys. I keep meaning to update sooner, but just when things die down, it all gets hectic again. The good news is...the story's almost over. And there's no big cliffhanger ending or whatever. I'm pretty sure you'll all be satisfied. Except for the idiots getting all up in arms about this world peace business. Lay off, why dontcha?

Anyway, it's a few more chapters by my count. Enjoy!

I have always maintained that orderly rooms are only maintained by super-boring people. The rest of us just have a bit too much edge on the palate to worry about smooth bedspreads or visible desktops.

Which is why it was always such a pain in my ass when Mr. G went on one of his OCD jags and freaked when he say the "chaotic state" of my room. Usually to calm the waters, I'd just toss a few things in my closet, stuff all my shoes under the bed, and strategically place stacks of books and movies all around so as to hide the mess beneath them.

So when I was packing to move in with Michael for the first time, I had the eerie sensation of entering a thrift shop where they were selling my life. Thanksgiving placemats I'd made in preschool…dozens upon dozens of jump ropes…photographs detailing my "awkward years" (read: 3rd to 9th grade)…

I'd been instructed by Michael to pack lightly, as we weren't exactly renting the Taj Mahal. But looking through all the massive pile at my feet, I couldn't even begin to distinguish between the "junk" and the mementos. The glow-in-the-dark retainer I'd abhorred when I was nine suddenly became more precious than any trinket Grandmere had ever presented me with. It was a ton of baggage, sure…but getting rid of it—even the tiniest bits—was impossible…and I didn't really mind (I can't say the same for Michael.)

Almost ten years later and three thousand miles away, I was thrown back into the exact same mindset.

Michael closed my bedroom door behind us and turned slowly to face me. "Well, then," he murmured, looking me over with something a bit more than nostalgia in his expression.

"Have you brushed your teeth yet?" I asked squeakily, taking a few rapid steps in the opposite direction. "'Cuz I haven't brushed my teeth."

"Right…teeth," said Michael, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. As I walked into the bathroom, I could hear him mutter, "Forkin' oral hygiene."

As I stood in front of the mirror, methodically swirling the toothbrush against my gums, Michael's reflection stood stock-still behind me, giving me a creepy flashback to a game Lilly and I used to play during third grade sleepovers. It's called "Bloody Mary," I think. You lock yourselves in the Moscovitzes' bathroom, then Lilly flushes the toilet over and over again while whispering a sepulchral chant of "Bloody Mary…Bloody Mary…" as you spin around ten times, then BOOM.

Bloody Mary.

In the mirror.

With a gun.

That's right about the time you shriek hysterically, jiggling the locked doorknob as tears stream down your cheeks, and then by the time you get the stupid thing open, Michael's already standing in the hallway, smirking cheekily and saying, "You'd think the horror would die down by the twelfth time."

Present-Michael didn't have a gun or anything, though. And if Bloody Mary had ever wrapped her arms around me protectively, I doubt I would given her a toothpastey grin in return.

"You're shivering," said Michael. "Cold?"

"Just a bit," I whispered.

His grip on my waist grew tighter, and as his lips descended to my neck, I felt my shoulders relax. He was definitely still Michael. My Michael. And absolutely nothing was in our way now.

"It's just—" I could see Michael's own shoulders droop as I wriggled out of his grasp, though I doubt it was out of relief. "Well, what's my grandmother going to say?"

"I thought we didn't care about that."

"We can't just ignore it, though…can we? I mean, Grandmere doesn't really bode well with ignorance."

"No."

I watched him in the mirror as he stared determinedly back. "No what? No, we can't ignore it? No…my grandmother is an attention whore?"

"No," said Michael again. "More like 'no, we're not gonna worry.' Hakuna matata."

"Hakuna matata?" I echoed laughingly. "So I'll just forget about it for a while until Grandmere and I duel to the death atop Pride Rock."

"It means no worries," sang Michael softly, stepping towards me again. I turned around to face him. "For the rest of your days…our days. And we've got a lot of those, if I'm not mistaken."

With his hand in mine? Those eyes on mine? Mine…mine…mine…

All baggage forgotten, I pressed myself against every little inch of Michael.

Hakuna matata.

- - -

I'm sure there was a smile on my face because I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. And still smiling.

"Morning," Michael mumbled, kissing my collarbone from behind.

"Morning," I replied, rolling over so I could see his face. See that he was really there.

"What's on the agenda for today?"

"Well...I think we need to spend a little quality 'family' time together. Maybe we can head out to the beach? I'll see if my swimming lessons have sunken in yet."

"The only thing sinking in might be me, ya know."

"Are you saying I'm that bad a teacher?"

"No, I'm just saying I'm that bad a swimmer." He stopped to kiss me on the cheek. "You're an excellent teacher."

"Nice save," I mocked. "So we'll head out to the beach, and then be back in time to get ready for the party."

"Uh, party? What party?" he asked, looking a little stressed.

"Oh, right. I forgot to tell you. Grandmere's arranged a family get together to welcome Olivia...and you...into the family."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "The party is to welcome me? I don't think so, Mia. You may be a good teacher, but you suck at lying. I bet I'm not even invited, am I?"

"Of course you are!" I exclaimed, struggling for some convincing words. But he's right, I suck at lying. "Okay, so maybe it's more to introduce Olivia to my dad, since he's been out of the country since we've been here, but it's also a welcoming thing."

"Yeah, for Liv. Not for me." He hopped out of the bed. "I think it's probably best if I skip the event."

"But, but you can't! Michael, I need your support. If you don't turn up, then Grandmere's going to think you don't want to be part of the family! She'll just have more power!"

He looked down at me and I tried my best to turn on my doe eyes. They begged 'please.'

Obviously they still work. He flopped down on the bed again and kissed me briefly. "All right. If it means that much to you, I'll be there. I'll put on a suit, clean up, and play the doting boyfriend."

"Thank you," I said sincerely, kissing him gently on the side of his neck. "It means a lot to me."

- - -

After a fun day of building sand castles and watching Michael struggle to stay afloat in the sea (Olivia's doing much better than him; she's totally mastered the doggy paddle), we retreated to the house to get ready for the party.

"But I don't have anything to wear," Olivia whispered in my ear on the way up to her bedroom.

"Don't worry, I have something for you. I had it brought over this morning. It's really pretty, I'm sure you're going to love it."

"Do you have a pretty dressed all picked out for me too?" Michael snickered as Olivia scampered through the hallway.

"No, but I'm sure I can find one that'd fit you."

He looked a little worried for a second. "Maybe we'll save that for the after party."

"After party? There's no after party."

"Yes there is. It's exclusive, only two people invited. I'm one of them, and the other is standing right next to me."

"Ah, that after party. Right. Well then I definitely can find something for you to wear."

He grinned. "I'd better let you get her dressed then. I'll see you downstairs in half an hour?"

"Half an hour is only enough time to get her ready," I said. "Give me an hour."

"Deal."

He kissed me and ran off himself.

- - -

When I met Michael downstairs an hour and a half later (so I was a little late, big deal) he let out a long whistle.

"Is that directed at me or Olivia?" I asked, grinning down at Liv.

"Oh, sorry, sweetie, that was directed at your mommy. But you look beautiful too. I like your dress."

"It's itchy," she muttered, tugging at the waist.

"You'll get used to it," a voice announced from the dining room door. "Most beautiful clothes are uncomfortable."

Olivia scrunched her nose up and I felt like doing the same thing. "Good evening, Grandmere."

"No time for pleasantries. Inside. Now. You're late."

Michael raised his eyebrows and I shrugged. "Let's go." I linked my arm in his and grabbed Olivia's hand. If this is a family dinner party, then why not enter with my family?

"Dad!" I cried when I saw him. I haven't seen him since I went to New York to get Olivia.

"Hello, darling," he greeted, beaming at me as he hugged me.

"Michael, good to see you again," he said, extending his hand to Michael. Michael gladly shook it. He's never really had a problem with Dad, mainly just Grandmere. "And who's this little angel?"

"Olivia, this is your grandfather. Dad, this is Olivia."

"You make me sound so old, Mia. You can call me anything you want to, Olivia. Preferably not grandfather."

She nodded and refrained from scooting behind my legs when he knelt down to her level. She even smiled at him when he commented on how pretty she looked in her dress, and how much she looked like me.

"Come on," Grandmere hustled, probably hating the fact that Dad was making more progress with Olivia in two minutes than she has at all. "We don't have time to dilly- dally."

- - -

As part of Grandmere's welcoming dinner, she was going to start off by introducing Olivia to everyone. And I knew this introduction wasn't going to include Michael.

So I pulled her into the back room just seconds before she stepped up to the podium.

"What is it, Amelia? I'm about to make the speeches."

"I know, I just want to make sure that you're going to include Michael in them. After all, you should be welcoming him just as much as Olivia."

"I will do no such thing. At least Olivia has royal blood in her. That boy has nothing. And the sooner you realize this, the better. He's no good, and you need to get rid of him. He will never be part of the family."

Feeling like I'd been slapped in the face, I just stared at her open-mouthed for a good minute. "And when are you going to get it, Grandmere? He's not going anywhere! There's nothing you can do that'll make him leave and you're just going to have to accept that."

"I will accept nothing of the sort. Now, how do I turn this damn microphone on?"

She indicated to the small microphone attached to her dress front and pulled out the controller. I glanced at it indifferently. Wait, why was that little green light blinking?

Panicking, I tapped the microphone and almost had a heart attack when I heard it echo through the speakers.

"It's already on! Everyone just heard what you said, including Michael!" I cried, after switching the power button off.

"I thought you said there was nothing I could do to get rid of him. Surely my unintentional public dig at him won't send him running." She smiled at me.

"You better hope that's true!"

With one last glance at her, I ran back into the dining room to find Michael.

But all I found were open-mouthed guests. He was gone, and so was Olivia.

Xiao chan should totally update. And reviews from all of you? Pretty please?