O~o~O
"My, my, what do we have here?"
She had noticed a few of his friends earlier that night, panting up at her like dogs, offering up coins to her and losing their horny little minds when she tucked them into her cleavage. They were pretty easy to distinguish with their caps and those gloved, grabby hands, that would reach out if she got close enough. Despite the rule not to touch the dancers, men always seemed to forget themselves.
His friends were quite easy to keep engaged. Those men were all the same. Spin around on a pole a few times, show some skin, and you could win over any of them. So it should have been no surprise when she looked up at the conclusion of her final performance of the night, only to spot him, sitting off by himself in the furthest booth.
Mario. The hero of the Mushroom Kingdom. The Jumpman. Wonderboy. Probably the most well-loved man in the whole Kingdom. The red cap and mustache made him easy to recognize. He was well known for his gentle, innocent demeanor, and his big heart. Along with his role as the fierce protector of the Princess, of course.
So what was he doing at her strip club?
"Look, over there," she gave a discreet gesture in his direction, and her coworkers immediately saw him. They all giggled amongst themselves. "I told you. I told you it was all just an act. He's not so pure anymore. I'm going to reveal who he is once and for all."
They could try to keep the building as cool as possible, but with all the warm bodies, along with the exercise, it was inevitable for the space to get hot. That was how she could best describe the club; loud with pulsing music, and hot with desire of the customers. And dances. The strength and aerobic fitness required to be a dancer was no small feat. So, after her dance, she tried to cool off as best as she could. She wondered how Mario might be faring in his long sleeves. She left the stage to change outfits, thinking about what she might say to him.
There wasn't any chance he would recognize her. None of the men ever did; her body was too distracting for anyone to really get a good look at her face. Plus, with the way her makeup and her hair was done, she just looked like an ordinary young woman who was all dolled up for her dances. Not like the Princess of the Mushroom Kingdom. As far as anyone was concerned, at this hour, the Princess was fast asleep in her castle, dreaming the sweet dreams of a demure damsel.
All she wanted was a breath of fresh air. The taste of freedom. Handling foreign policy with men who wanted nothing more than to control her and her people was so tiring. So she found a way to free herself, at least for a few nights a week.
No one would possibly suspect her double life as a stripper. The only ones who knew were her coworkers, who also led their own double lives. Her advisor was also aware of her nightly activities, because they served a purpose.
As Princess, Peach was required to meet with various representatives of other kingdoms. They were often guests to her Kingdom, seeking to be shown a good time. Many of them were men who excelled in the art of politics. Politics was all diplomacy, all a facade, all saying whatever it took to get what you want. Peach hated the act. She hated the script. But most of all, she hated that the politicians all pretended to be innocent gentlemen.
So when she heard from Daisy that most of her guests could be found at the strip club, Peach decided to get some firsthand insight on the real character of these men.
Now, it wasn't a crime to go to a strip club. If men really enjoyed watching attractive women twirl around a pole in extremely suggestive outfits, that was fine. Peach had nothing against that. She worked there, after all. She enjoyed dancing and getting paid because the audience thought she was sexy. What she had a problem with was how the politicians she just met with could so easily act like they were above it all. "Whores," some would say of the dancers like her, unaware that she was standing right before them. "Wenches, all of them. Not a trace of dignity. Any commoner who goes into those clubs is a waste of life."
And yet, inevitably, she would find them all later that night, drooling up at her from the front row right with the 'commoners' he had just spent all day spitting on.
She started dancing to test their character. The results never surprised her. Dancing at night always told her who she could trust and who she couldn't, and there were a few who she could trust. Like Prince Peasley, for instance, who not only expressed admiration for workers like her, but also showed up to see her dance, as well as the men who performed the next day. Of course, he never knew he had watched her. He didn't have the slightest idea what the true cause was of the close relations between the Mushroom and the Beanbean Kingdoms. He likely believed his diplomatic skills and their friendship was the root of it all.
There were very few like Prince Peasley. The rest all pretended to be veracious and virtuous, when really they were corrupt and cold-hearted.
So when this strange little man just stumbles into her Kingdom by 'accident,' rescues her from one of her Kingdom's oldest enemies, and expects nothing in return, Peach found herself suspicious in every way.
This man, he led a modest lifestyle with his brother. He gave away most of his money that was found on his journey, and put the rest into the town. He got along with anyone he spoke to. And he didn't speak much. She had observed that somehow, he could strike up a conversation, even with an enemy, and end up with a new friend within minutes. She couldn't even do that, and she specializes in diplomacy. So she didn't trust him, or his so-called acts of kindness. She was convinced he only did good to curry favor.
If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was an act. Mario could pretend to be a nice guy all he wanted, but Peach was bound and determined to reveal his true character.
Especially since he was sitting off by himself. The men who did that were the worst. She changed into an outfit that was bright red, yellow, and white, like the pattern of a fire flower, and then strutted out like she was born wearing heels.
She spied him from across the bar, and watched carefully. While Pauline danced away on stage, he sat alone. He didn't appear to be watching her. He didn't appear to be watching anything. There was an untouched drink in front of him, and he tapped his gloved fingers on the table. He didn't look very happy. Was he bored? Was he expecting someone to come and service him? Peach sneered.
He was no different than any of the politicians. The longer Peach watched him, the more she became certain that he was just like the others. All he was doing was pretending to be kind, pretending to be modest to earn the Princess's grace and eventual affection. Why else would he rescue her from King Bowser?
It was time to find out once and for all. Peach stalked the long way around until she was behind him, and then she moved in for the kill.
"Well, I'll be," she purred, coming out from behind his booth and posing with her arm resting along the top of his seat. "If it isn't Mr. Mario himself, having come to grace us with his presence. To what do we owe the pleasure?"
He practically jumped, as if she had shocked him with static. "Oh, ehm…" he looked up at her, and she saw the way his gaze snagged on her bust. He was already short, so between him sitting down and her towering over him with her heels, he had to tilt his head back quite a bit to look her in the face. She grinned. "Hello. Sorry, I'm not, ah…How, how do you know who I am?"
"Scooch on over, darling, let me squeeze in next to you." she interrupted him, and leaned down toward him. He didn't really have very much choice except to move over for her. He slid his drink down the table and gave her considerable space. While she made a show of sitting down, she noticed that he glanced briefly toward her chest, before he abruptly turned his head away.
He tugged at his collar. Oh, yes, it really was getting very hot. She smirked. "I'm really very sorry," he started to say, keeping his eyes upward or to the side. "I'm not-I'm not here for-"
She giggled. "Careful, you have such bright eyes. Those will get you into a lot of trouble." she teased him, and scooted even closer. With her back straight, she pushed her chest forward. She would figure him out one way or another. Despite her advance, he inched away. The lights were low and colorful. She could tell, despite the lighting, that his face had flushed a bright red. "Tell me, Mr. Hero, what brings you here?"
Mario, in his determination to keep his eyes off of her, seemed to realize he was looking toward the stage that Pauline was dancing on. He lowered his head and looked at the table. "I'm sorry," he said again, and then hesitated, like he was expecting her to say something. When she didn't, he went on. "I'm not here to watch. I just have to make sure my friends don't do anything stupid," he nodded to the stage, where his friends were still offering coins to any dancer. His voice was quiet. Peach had known that he was soft-spoken, but she really had to strain to hear him over the loud music.
"Aren't you just a gentleman?" she praised him, hoping to stroke his ego. The sooner she could soften him up, the sooner she could get him to talk. She made sure to sit up, showing him as much skin as possible. Men had a habit of speaking their truths when a woman was offering her merchandise. She would get him to tell her his darkest fantasies, his true goals, everything that would completely compromise his chance to get close to her as the Princess.
But he looked down in response to her. He fussed with his gloves. He shifted the way he was sitting. All clear signs of discomfort. She had to take a different route. "Oh, but they're big boys now. They can take care of themselves. You don't have to look after them, and I'm sure you don't want to. Wouldn't it be nice to have some fun? Loosen up a little?" she leaned in and nudged him with her shoulder.
She glanced up for just a moment, and saw a couple of guys had recognized Mario. They were pointing at him and whispering to each other. Peach quickly looked away from them and kept her focus on Mario. He didn't seem to notice anyone watching him. She pushed her chest out a little more, hoping to distract him.
Mario shifted away. "No." he shook his head. "Thank you, but no. I'm fine."
A clear refusal. Peach raised an eyebrow. Perhaps he was resisting the temptation due to the presence of his friends. Or perhaps there was another reason entirely. A smirk spread across her face. "Ah, it's a girl, isn't it?" she guessed, though she knew very well what the answer was. "You're a loyal one, aren't you?"
He frowned, and looked away from her when she tried to search his face. His eyebrows creased in an expression of shame. She knew for a fact that he was very single.
"No?" Peach tapped her chin to pretend she was thinking. "Hmm. Well, then, Mr. Goody Two-shoes. Is there someone you like? Do you have a crush on anyone?"
He wasn't sitting with his back straight anymore. During their conversation, he slowly seemed to be shrinking in on himself. He folded his arms close to his stomach and refused to look up. While his eyes searched the table, he opened his mouth, and she knew a denial was on the tip of his tongue.
She interrupted him before he could speak. "Let me guess. Could you perhaps be infatuated with our lovely Princess?"
He looked up at her with wide eyes. Peach narrowed her eyes and grinned; his hesitation was all she needed to see.
"I-I, no, no, where did you hear that? I don't." he finally answered, and immediately sat up and started fishing in his pocket. He brought out his wallet. "Look, you're very nice. I'm sorry I don't want any of your services. Money is what you want, right?"
He started to put some coins on the table, but Peach ignored him. "Oh, don't be so shy. Practically everyone in the Kingdom knows you like her. It's understandable. She is very beautiful. Who wouldn't fall in love with a helpless damsel in distress, hmm, Wonderboy?" she prodded him, seeking deeper insight. "Peach is a fitting name, you know. She does have quite impressive Peaches. Don't you ever imagine what could be under all those frills and skirts?"
While she spoke, he had frozen with his hand still hovering over the table. Peach went on, effortlessly, narrating everything she'd ever overheard about herself. "Pliable, plush skin, luscious curves that you could just taste. I'll bet she has a perfect body under that pink dress. You rescued her, didn't you? Haven't you ever just wanted to touch her? She's so respectable and proper, but quite helpless as well. You could probably get away with groping her here and there. She'd be too nice to say anything," she mused, playing with the strap of her bra. Scooting closer to Mario, she watched his widen more and more. "Wouldn't it be so sexy to watch her undress for you? With those big bluebell eyes on you the whole time. A chaste virgin, just waiting to be taken by the manliest hero. She would be so compliant in bed. Just imagine her calling out your name, hot with her first taste of pain and pleasure, while you storm her castle and part her walls. Hmm? Imagine all the ways you could fuck her into next week."
The narrative came easily. So many men had described to her, in gruesome detail, all of their fantasies concerning the virgin Princess. She had heard so many that she could wax her own without having to think about it. Her eyes gleamed with triumph. She could spin an even taller tale, weaving more and more together until she had created Mario's very own erotic tapestry.
What way would he lean? She couldn't wait to uncover those dirty thoughts buried in shadow. She could draw every single wet dream out of him like she was wringing out a towel. She placed her hand on his knee, a strategic move. As soon as he admitted one desire, the rest would come pouring out of him as she implored him, tell me more. Her hand would sneak up his leg. Maybe he was into bondage. That little tidbit of information would be deliciously ironic.
However, when she glanced down at Mario, she was taken aback. He had a hard expression. Not once had he ever fixed her with a look of anger before. She had only ever seen that focus in his eyes when he was staring down Bowser.
"You, of all people, should know there is more to a woman than those things," he chided her with a cold look. Peach blinked.
Without even a second thought, he urged her hand off of him. She felt strangely guilty, being scolded by Mario for speaking with such vulgar language about herself. Why was she guilty?
He let out a harsh breath, and pushed a generous stack of coins toward her in an abrupt motion. She must have really struck a chord with him. "Sure, I have a crush on the Princess. Is that what you want to hear?" His tone was careful and measured. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and then nodded to the coins. "Just take that. I have to leave."
His drink still sat, untouched, on the table. He stood and started to move out of the booth, out the long way since Peach was sitting on one end that blocked him.
"Mario, wait." Peach reached out, but missed catching his wrist. "Please, just a moment. I'm sorry if I offended you."
He cast a wary look, and paused. "It's fine." he mumbled, but he kept moving.
Peach couldn't let him leave. She looked around for something, anything, trying to come up with a reason for him to stay. She saw the couple of guys still hanging around across the way from the booth. "Hey, look, those guys over there, they've been waiting to intercept you for autographs and pictures. You see?" she tilted her head towards them, and Mario glanced up, skeptical of her warning. "If they catch you, they probably won't let you leave very quickly. And then others will catch on that you're here. The news will spread. Soon, everyone will crowd around to meet you."
Mario looked between her and the guys she indicated. They were watching him very closely, and looked up hopefully as he was moving out of the booth. He shook his head with a chuckle. "Why would they want my autograph?" he looked genuinely confused.
Staring at him in silence for a few moments, Peach tried to wrap her head around what he said. "Are you kidding?" she asked. "Mario, you're the most famous man in the kingdom right now! You're a hero! The only reason they haven't sought you out first is because I'm here. And I'm sure others have recognized you, they're just too polite or too shy to come say hello."
But Mario was shaking his head, amusement mixed with slight fear in his face. "That's silly. Why would they…" he started to say, and trailed off when the guys started waving for him. He blinked several times. Peach watched and waited. Sure enough, after a moment, Mario awkwardly sat back down and folded his hands in his lap. "You know, I will just, ehm. I will stay here for a little while." he nodded, for self assurance.
Peach let out a big breath. She had to put back on the facade. "Oh, good, for a moment there, I was worried that you didn't like me." she winked at him, and smiled when he looked down at his hands. Sitting with her knees together, she remembered to straighten her back and tighten her core. "You really don't think you're famous, do you? You have no idea how much of a star you are around here."
He didn't answer, except for a numb shake of his head. Peach felt intrigued by his bewilderment. Not only did he seem unaware that he was a celebrity of sorts in the Kingdom, but he didn't seem very happy to hear it. She would have expected him to be flattered, at the very least.
"So, humor me," she crossed her legs and rested her chin in the palm of her hand, leaning quite close to him. "If you don't like the Princess for her body, what exactly do you like about her? As far as I know, she's got the personality of a musty old book."
She had to be more careful with the subject. He gave her a sideways, suspicious look. He didn't like that she was asking. She had spent most of her time teasing him and insulting his crush, even if he didn't know that it was her. Maybe he had caught on to the condescension in her voice. "Most men assume that I'm just a mindless whore, but you don't seem to think that. I'm really just curious about you, hon."
That softened the jab. After a moment, weighing his options, looking between her, the table, and the guys who were still trying to get his attention, he made his choice. "No, I don't think that you're…" he shook his head and shut his eyes for a moment, letting out a quiet sigh. Peach couldn't help a broad smile when she realized he didn't want to say 'whore.' "Fine. I like her because she is very kind. I have never met anyone like her. She puts all her effort to the Kingdom. Nothing else matters to her except knowing that her citizens are safe and happy." he stared at the table without really looking at it. He looked lost, almost dazed, somewhere deep in his head.
Peach sat up slowly, and regarded him with wide eyes. He had the slightest hint of a smile as he looked off into space. Was he thinking of her?
He rested his elbows on the table, blinking dreamily at nothing. "She...I don't know how to say in English. But she, she puts everyone else in front of herself. Does that make sense? Her people, their happiness is more important than her own. She takes her work very seriously. Most of her citizens know that. They ask me to save her, and they tell me about how kind she is. I didn't really know until I met her. So I'm really very sorry if you believe those things about her. She's not a, ehm, how do you say? A musty book? Her face and her body, I think you know that those things are not very important. I think what makes her beautiful is her heart."
As he finished, he fell quiet with a tender smile on his face. He glanced to her once he must have noticed her silence. When his eyes met hers, Peach became very aware that her face had become very warm.
She was supposed to say something. "Oh…" she murmured, and Mario let out a soft chuckle. "Well, I suppose you would know. You're quite close to her, aren't you? I'm sure she loves having a hero like you around." She tried to think of something generic to say, thought he would agree.
At her words, Mario's eyes fell back toward the table. His smile became a little sad. "No. I don't think she likes me very much." he said.
Peach frowned. "What? Why not?" She hadn't given him a reason to think she didn't like him. She extended the same courtesy to him and his brother that she extended to everyone. She was a politician. She had to pretend that she liked everyone. If anything, she had gone to a little extra effort to make him feel welcome, especially because he saved her. She had invited him for cake and tea a couple of times to further their positive relations. So she was genuinely baffled about why he might feel that she didn't like him. He didn't look like he was lying.
"She is, ah, she is very formal. I think, yes. She smiles and laughs at everything I say. But not like she is happy. Does that make sense?" Mario gestured in a few circles while he spoke, and then squinted at her, as if searching for her understanding. "She is very smart. I don't think she trusts many people. Me? I'm nothing special. She has no real reason to trust me. And I don't think that many people understand how capable she is. So why would she trust them? She could run the Kingdom herself with both hands tied behind her back."
As she watched him, Peach considered his face, his expression. He really meant everything he was saying. She felt a startled rush, a strange surge of pride and excitement. Mario really had a great deal of respect for her. He was expressing genuine admiration.
"I don't think anyone has ever called her smart before," she said, without thinking. "Maybe she's tired of all the men who think of her as nothing more than a pretty face with a lot of money. Maybe she feels like she has to be suspicious of anyone who wants to help her. Maybe she just has to guard herself, and hold all her cards close to her chest." she only realized her mistake after she had spoken. Not even five minutes ago, she had been taunting and sexualizing the image of the Princess in nearly every way she could think of.
But Mario didn't seem to think very much of her sudden insight. He was too distracted, lost in his own thoughts. He let out a soft hum of agreement. "That would make a lot of sense." he nodded, and absentmindedly went to rest his hand around the drink. Not like he intended to drink it, but just to have something to do. The coins still sat on the table.
She had to go back to being an ignorant third party. "Well, why don't you ask her out?" she asked the first dumb question she could think of. "You're around her all the time anyway. Rumor has it that before you leave the castle every day, she kisses you on the cheek."
There was a rumor like that. But she had never kissed him. Mario rubbed the back of his head at the suggestion. "No. She has never kissed me," he told her. Peach tilted her head. He could have run with it, attempted to spread the rumor more himself. Instead, he was very firm and truthful with his response. "And no. I can't ask her out."
"What? Why not?" she feigned confusion, crossing her arms.
Mario chuckled, and his reaction startled her. "Are you joking?" he asked, and then gestured to himself. His overalls, his working gloves and boots. "Look at me. Where I come from, Princesses never come face to face with plumbers. They marry handsome princes. Not men like me." there was no bitterness in his tone, but Peach thought she detected a slight insecurity. One she hadn't put to use yet.
She gave a coy smile. "I think you're handsome," she said, and reached out to tap his nose.
He didn't bite. "You say that because you want me to pay you. It's your job." he responded easily, raising a brow.
"No, no! I really do think so! I think you're very cute, Mario." she flashed a grin. "It's hard to explain, but you're handsome in your own unique way."
Oh, he had some deep hurt going on. His amiable expression seemed to take on a shadow, and his smile was no longer so genuine. He must have heard every single variation of what she had just told him a thousand times. "Thank you." he said, though his tone had gone sour. He looked off down the row, where the lights were flashing patterns along the floor.
It was strange, she thought. He was so determined to defend the Princess from being judged by her appearance, and yet he judged himself through that very lense. She found herself wondering who exactly had hurt him. What caused him to feel so self-conscious?
Most men would have revelled in her praise. But then again, most men also would have also managed to talk down to her. They would ask her what she was doing with herself in a place like this, all manner of backhanded and demeaning "compliments." Where Mario had shown such respect for her, regardless of whether or not she was a stripper, he didn't seem to view himself as worth much more than what he looked like.
Perhaps she had contributed to that. Not directly, but she hadn't considered how being overly formal and dismissive toward him might make him feel. Because she hadn't cared before.
She tilted her head and watched him. His furrowed brow, his mustache only revealing a hint of his frown, his big, honest eyes. She had been looking at him under such harsh lights before, having believed that every inch of his personality was manufactured and artificial. An ugly personality had a way of making a person ugly as well. But now the lights were softer. He was a genuine person, who showed genuine kindness and made genuine mistakes. He had a sweet face. "You really like her, don't you?" she asked him quietly.
Mario rested his chin in his palm, looking across the room into the distance. "Yes." he sighed, and she could hear the hurt and the misery and the long hours he'd spent contemplating that very question, just in his voice.
Looking down at herself, Peach clasped her hands together, feeling very guilty. She had come to test his character. Tempt him with womanly pleasures, draw out his dark truths, tease him until he was frustrated enough to lose his composure. She had come with the intention of provoking him into acting out, which most men would have done on their own without too much effort on her part. But he just wouldn't.
Mario didn't want a stripper to dance on him until he forgot anything else mattered. He didn't want a stripper to spoon-feed praise right to his ego. He didn't want a stripper to insult the Princess to make him feel better.
He had been clear from the beginning. He came to look after his friends. Instead, a stripper had come and made him feel miserable about himself. That wasn't her job, and that wasn't who she was supposed to be. And after all the time he had spent expressing his admiration for her kindness? Of course, he didn't know that she was the Princess. But Peach still felt like she didn't deserve his respect after tonight. She had crossed a line.
She had tested him, but he completely defied the test itself. And now, she had to make it right.
"Hey. Listen, I'm sorry I've been so rude." she touched his shoulder, and he raised his head a little to face her. His dull eyes became a little lighter. "Look, the Princess is lucky to have someone like you to protect her. You're a sweet guy. I shouldn't have tried to pin you down as just another douche; you're the real deal."
He gave her a small, but real smile. "Don't worry about it. You are trying to do your job. I am just not a customer." he chuckled. "But thank you."
Despite all that, he was pretty forgiving, too. "You know what I think?" she asked him, and when he looked at her to show he was listening, she nudged his arm with her elbow and winked. "I also think the Princess would be very lucky to be with you."
Narrowing his eyes, Mario just gave her a funny look. "No. She deserves better than me." he leaned back into his seat, no longer so stiff like he was before. "She has her own, ah, her own Prince light blue."
Peach tilted her head. "Prince light blue?"
He gestured in a few short, frustrated circles. "Yes. I don't know how you call him in English. The Prince…" he looked up and let out a deep breath. "You know. The Prince. The, ehm, the handsome one. He rides a horse and he saves the day. He is in all of the fairytales. Principe Azzurro."
Watching him, Peach thought that he was cute when he was trying to explain himself. With his little gestures, he looked like he was physically trying to put together what he meant before her. "Are you talking about Prince Charming?" she hazarded a guess.
Mario's eyes lit up. "Yes! How do you say? Prince Charming?" the way his accent fit around the words together was funny. He kept accenting the 'e' at the end of Prince, and trying not to roll his r's. But he couldn't quite pronounce the 'r' without rolling it. "Yes. The Princess, she has her own Prince Charming, no?"
Like hell she had her own Prince Charming, if he was thinking of all the Princes she met with on a regular basis. The thought made her laugh. Those men were nothing close to the ideal of 'Prince Charming,' however much they might like to be. Either that, or Prince Charming was just another name for the assholes in politics. "Oh, honey, I don't think anyone like that is going to come along. I think he's already right here." she reached forward and adjusted his hat on his head. "She'd be crazy not to give you a chance." he was blushing by the time she leaned away again.
"No. I think she would be offended if I ever told her how I felt. It's not my place. She is a Princess. I am just a plumber." he rubbed the back of his head, with a bashful glance to the table.
Peach shook her head with a sly little smirk. "Aren't you forgetting that you saved the day? Mr. Hero? I think you should at least try to court her. You may be surprised, maybe she appreciates your charm more than you think." she realized she was encouraging Mario to make a move on herself. "Maybe you're not Prince Charming. Maybe you're not the tall, dashing, conventionally attractive fairytale. But maybe she doesn't need a Prince Charming. Maybe what she needs is someone brave, and someone with a big heart. Someone like you." she tapped his chest, right where his heart was.
He fussed with his gloves, looking off to the side. "She doesn't need anyone. Besides, she doesn't even like me." he shook his head.
"Oh, you don't know that. Maybe she's a little lonely. Maybe she does need someone every once in a while, and that's okay. And I still think she does like you." she folded her arms and relaxed against the table. "Hey, let me give you some advice. I know the way to a woman's heart. Trust me, I am one." she grinned.
Mario looked up at her to listen, and he didn't have to say anything for her to know what he was thinking. She may know a way to a woman's heart, but did she know the way to Princess Peach's heart? Little did he know, she thought with satisfaction, that she knew more than he could imagine. "Next time you see her, ask her if she'd like to go for a walk outside. You know. Princesses, they need their fresh air." she giggled like she was joking.
But she saw the gears turning behind Mario's eyes. He took her seriously. He took her seriously because she made perfect sense. From what he knew, the Princess was always in the castle, though she longed to be outside. He rubbed his chin. "I don't want her heart." he said, after a long moment. "I just want her to know she can rely on me. I want to be her friend."
Peach blinked at Mario. She couldn't hold back a big smile. "Well, a walk out in the garden isn't a bad place to start. Trust me, just try it. I think you'll be surprised by what can happen."
They looked at one another, and Peach could see hope shining in his big blue eyes. He took in a big breath, brows creased with uncertain resolve. "I will ask her." he told her, with a semi-assured nod.
No, Mario may not have been a conventionally attractive Prince Charming. But he sure did have an adorable smile. He had dimples! The lights became a little more mellow. His eyes were lovely, they told her every inch of what he felt. She had always found his accent endearing, even before she really knew him. Even before she wanted to know him. She hoped that now, she would have a chance to know him even better.
There was a small commotion. They both looked up. Pauline's dance had ended, and most of the crowd was on their way out. "Ah. My friends. They are leaving." Mario acknowledged, indicating them with a glance in their direction. He put his hands on his knees and nodded to the coins that still sat on the table. "You keep that. I'm sorry that I didn't want your service. Good luck with the rest of your work tonight. I should go; my brother will be worried." he started to stand.
"Well, thank you," Peach accepted his payment with a grateful nod, and watched him go. But the sooner he left, the sooner she could talk to him again. "You have a good night, okay? Take care of yourself. And be careful on your way up that balcony, Romeo." she called after him. Truly, parting is such sweet sorrow.
Mario turned to look at her over his shoulder with a confused smile. "What?"
Peach just waved him on with a joyful laugh. "Don't worry about it."
With an amused shrug, Mario waved goodbye and turned to leave. Peach shook her head. "Don't you worry about a thing, my sweet hero." she murmured.
She watched him meet up with his friends. They were teasing him, making gestures toward her, and she couldn't help but grin when she saw the exasperation in his face. One of them must have made a rude comment, because Mario punched him in the shoulder. Not hard enough to seriously hurt him, but enough to make a point. Peach shook her head. He really was something else.
As soon as he had left the club, Peach sighed and peeled her body from the sticky leather of the booth. Not wearing a lot of clothes got a little uncomfortable when she was sitting for an extended period of time. As soon as she was up on her feet, she was hurrying to get her things.
A few of the girls wanted to stop her to ask how it went. "He's nothing like I thought he was," she told them, putting on her coat and rushing to the door. "Listen, I have to go. I'll explain more tomorrow."
She went out the back door, out into the cool night air. She took in a deep breath. Then, with a pleased sigh, she hurried down the block to the taxi that always waited to take her back to the castle.
A breath of fresh air. That was all she wanted. Going outside was always a breath of fresh air. Dancing at the club was a breath of fresh air. Mario, he was a breath of fresh air, too.
"Hey, thank you for picking me up," she told the Toad who was driving. "Take me back home as quickly as you can, please."
"Of course, Princess." the driver replied. As they went, she watched the city pass her by out the window in soft streaks of warm light. The hour was late. As soon as she got to the castle, she would have to hurry to get to sleep.
She couldn't help but grin to herself. She had a date in the morning.
O~o~O
So I guess some of you came for the sex, and hey, that's fair. But that's not exactly on my agenda of things to write for this pairing. Sorry to disappoint you, but here, have this silly and somewhat wholesome story instead! This was definitely my attempt at writing something new, and also my most direct way of portraying Mario "Respecting Women" Mario and Princess Peach "Do No Harm, Take No Shit" Toadstool. I normally try not to be so vulgar in my writing, but I figured, fuck it. Just fuck it, I had this silly idea, and I wanted to write it. If you somehow made it here without reading a little, realizing this wasn't a PWP, and hitting that back button, I really appreciate it. Even if you did, that's alright. I did do a little false advertising. Thanks for checking it out anyway. I mean it, thanks for reading!