Foreword: I KNOW THIS IS LATE and I'm sorry. I was having a boatload of trouble with 30, and I'm still barely half-through, but I knew I had to update soon, and as a special gift for Senom, who has found me on LJ and never ceases to make me smile, I decided today was a good update day.

AND another gift for Senom299 you can thank for, the very first scene is a request with Doopliss. :)

I really like this chapter. It's the end of the ball (Hallelujah!) so I wanted it to be extra-special...but for that extra-specialness to work, I have a request of you guys. Could you all please find a place where you can listen to Frank Sinatra's "The Last Dance" (I suggest YouTube) as you read the section that begins "Just as Bowser expected, as the goombas stepped out..."? I put a () there to remind you to press play just then...if you read at the correct pacing, it should all line up perfectly, with one or two exceptions within the song. It's just for added atmosphere...please don't think I imagine Bowser with Frankie's voice. Far from it. ;)

And Disclaimer- I don't own anything in this chapter except Kara and the words...and even then, Frank Sinatra gets the beautiful lyrics YOU get to listen to!

Kara looked at her watch, smiling as she noticed things going just according to plan

"Junior, stop it!" Wendy snapped.

Guiltily, Bowser Jr. pulled his chocolate-covered claws out of the chocolate fountain and stared at his older sister, letting the chocolate drip. "Why?"

"Because, you're embarrassing me!"

Junior smirked, dipping his entire face into the fountain.

"Junior! Stop it!" Wendy roared, smacking him so hard on his tipped head that Junior fell face-first into the chocolate.

"Weeeeendyyyy!" Junior whined, pulling his now brown head up and shaking like a dog. "What'd you do that for?"

"It's, like, bad enough that I have to stand this close to you little nitwit; I, like, don't want to look like I sympathize with the insane." She saw a young hammer brother march by, and immediately spun away from Junior and flashed a glittering smile.

"Maybe I don't want you to stand by me," Junior taunted, "maybe you make me look bad."

Wendy looked her brother up-and-down, eyebrows raised in a questioning manner. "Yeah, I totally don't think you need my help." She sighed and grabbed the towels from the approaching waiter. "Clean up so I can like actually talk to you about our plan without puking."

The three of them tried to clean Junior, the young koopa prince mostly only being helpful as far as his tongue could reach. Before they were done, Wendy heard Larry's voice behind them. "Hey, you two. What's shakin?"

Junior lifted the towel suspiciously so he could better see. "Larry?"

"Yeah, it's me, slick! Who were you expecting?"

"I, like, thought you went to dance until Kammy came back."

"Well….obviously there was a change in plans. After all, I am Larry Koopa, prince of the Darklands; I can do whatever I want. Because I'm awesome."

"Larry, are you okay?" Junior asked, scrutinizing his youngest older brother.

"Why wouldn't I be okay, slick? I'm better than okay- I'm Larry!"

Wendy looked at the younger koopa suspiciously, eyeing his mischievous look in his eyes. Just above his Mohawk, she noticed another Larry, dancing ridiculously amid the crowd. She narrowed her eyes, looking discreetly from the conceited Larry to the oblivious one.

Dancing Larry chanced a look over at his siblings, giving a huge double-take as he noticed his mirror-image standing with Junior and Wendy, chatting. Larry stopped dancing, throwing his partner off beat and she fell with a screech. Not bothering to apologize, Larry cautiously moved into earshot that his siblings were having with…well, Larry.

Wendy eyed him come closer, moving her attention back to the talkative Larry.

"Well," Junior began, scrutinizing Larry carefully, yet not even noticing the existence of the second Larry behind him. "You sound an awful lot like Roy."

"What? No, no, no, no, no!" Larry glared at them all, snarling, "I am Larry Koopa! I'm awesome! I'm the son of the king! I'm smart, I'm clever, and I have amazing hair! Besides, Roy, my brother, is awful. He's rude, and he's conceited, and he has an accent. I do not have an accent, because I'm Larry! And I'm not rude, conceited, or awful!"

Junior took a step back, raising his eyebrows. Wendy glanced at the second Larry, staring horrified and yet amused at the temper-tantrum his double was having. "Now you sound like more like Morton."

Wendy's lips turned up, putting the pieces together. Two Larrys, added with this Larry's memorable manner, and the solution should have been obvious. "No, Junior," she smirked, "he, like, doesn't sound like Roy. Or Morton. Or, like, even Larry. He sounds like Doopliss." She hissed out the name at the end, watching his eyes flash.

Behind the guilty-looking Larry, the eaves-dropping Larry tapped his shoulder. "Hey, Doopliss. What's up." Larry grinned into his own despairing face.

Doopliss-Larry shrugged his shoulder away from the koopaling, glaring at all three of them. "No, no, no, no, no!" He stamped his foot, a puff of blue smoke quickly enfolding him, dissipating to reveal the Duplighost with a blue party hat, guilty as charged. "Why'd you guys have to go and reveal me?" Doopliss pouted, poking Larry with his sheet-draped hand. "And you're supposed to be dancing. You just blew my cover for the rest of the night."

Junior crossed his arms, teasing, "if you wanted to keep your cover, why'd you go and talk to us? You should know we're too much of smarties for you."

Doopliss rolled his eyes, grabbing a nearby pretzel and situating it under the chocolate fountain's flow. "Right, because you're such an Iggy or Ludwig, slick." Wendy held back bile as she watched him eat the pretzel, probably covered in chocolate she inadvertently helped her youngest brother contaminate. His mouth full, Doopliss continued, "I just wanted to talk to you guys. Haven't seen any of you for years, feels like."

"And whose fault is that?" Larry asked, trying to hide his pleasure at being rejoined with the Duplighost who had taught the koopalings a majority of their tricks. "Didn't Kamek ban you from the palace?"

Doopliss grinned. "Yeah, for turning all the kitchen appliances into chickens. That was a good one, thanks for reminding me!" He hunched down, urging the three koopalings into a huddle. "Keep it under wraps, but I'm trying to perfect that one. The chickens last time couldn't walk…they all had fork or spoons for feet. Even the blenders…go figure. Once it's good to go, I'm going to try at one of the soup kitchens in the inner-city."

"Hey," Junior shrieked, "didn't Kammy ban you, too?" He seemed to completely ignore Doopliss's scheme, as he didn't seem to have to hide any disgust at all. Wendy and Larry, on the hand, seemed caught between reverence and being horrified.

"Yeah, but that was a stupid reason. How was I supposed to know there's actually a law that says Duplighosts aren't allowed to imitate important dead kings and try and seize ultimate power in their name? It's as stupid a law as that one about replacing tile floors with Jell-O. Who in Darklands would even do that to make a law necessary?"

Junior blushed, avoiding eye contact.

"So then, slick, how did you, like, get in? If you're, like, banned and all…twice…"

Doopliss raised his arms high, dramatically. "We Duplighosts can sneak in anywhere, anytime. And 'Larry' doesn't ever need a ticket."

"But, Doopy, you don't look like Larry no more. How you gonna make sure you don't get kicked out?"

"No one's going to kick me out now I'm here!"

From just a few feet away, Kammy hissed, "Wanna bet?" She slinked over to the group, fuming.

Once again, a cloud of blue smoke encircled Doopliss, leaving Kamek in his place. "Pretty good trick, eh, whippersnappers?" Kamek nervously muttered. He looked over at Kammy and faked surprise. "Oh, well, hello there, Kammy! I didn't see you standing there! I was just showing these youngin's the latest in imitation magic and-"

"Oh, shut up, Doopliss. You're banned for a reason…if you stick around for another second, I'll stuff you in the dungeon until that stupid hat of yours rots right off your head."

Kamek began wringing his hands, staring up at Kammy with a hopeful smile. "Doopliss? That charming young Duplighost? Hahaha, that's quite a compliment, but I assure you…I'm really Kamek. And I'm…old. And…smart. And a magikoopa."

"Is that so." Kammy drolled. Her eyes flashed. "You're coming with me, buddy."

Trying another tactic, Kamek grinned flirtatiously. "Well, now, Kammy! If you wanted to get me alone with you, you could have just asked. I've got plenty of other magic tricks I can show you as long as you can last, sweety."

Furious, Kammy slapped Kamek, sending him to the ground. She shook with anger over him, wordless. Junior nudged Larry and whispered, "I think she thinks he really is Kamek now. He's the only person she hates enough to slap."

Finally catching a hold of her tongue, Kammy pointed her wand at the fallen magikoopa, snarling a disenchantment at him. Smoke, this time purple, encircled Kamek, leaving a Doopliss shaking with fear.

"You know," Doopliss squeaked, under the wand of Kammy and well aware he was not only banned for a third time, but about to be arrested. "We duplighosts aren't just good at duplication…do you know what else we're good at, Kammy?"

"Annoying the heck out of everyone and getting themselves in line of death?"

"Besides that." Kammy glared, beginning to lean over to grab the duplighost's hands. "You're not gonna guess?"

"If you plan on changing into something so you can slip through my hands, you're out of luck. I suspend your magic as long as you're under my wand, buddy."

"Then it really is a shame you're not guessing, slick." Now that his mysterious plan was seemingly in action, Doopliss had lost all his terror and regained his annoying manner of conceit. "Because what we duplighosts are really good at?...It's called running."

Doopliss head-butted Kammy in the face, hopping up as she instinctively grabbed her hurt beak. Doopliss plucked her wand out of her hand and grinned, blue smoke encircling him yet again. In his place on the floor stood Ms. Mowz. She waved, squeaking, "Ta-ta!" and then, with blinding speed and a squeal, she took off.

Wendy watched jealously as Ms. Mowz sprinted away, tossing the wand into the air as she reached the door and slid out. Kammy was just beginning to regain her focus, shouting curses at the escapee, whilst Junior and Larry cheered Doopliss on his escape. "It's no fair!" Wendy cried, getting Larry's attention.

"What, you want to run away to? I thought you liked these stupid things."

"I do," she snarled, looking longingly back where Ms. Mouz- Doopliss had just left. "It's just like, totally not fair. No one can run that fast in stilettos!"

xxxx0o0o0o0o0o0o0xxxx

Kara looked at her watch, smiling as she noticed things going just according to plan. There had been a few minor set-backs, but now, at 11:52:07, things were going just according to plan.

She reviewed quickly the remainder of tasks on her clipboard…the koopalings had exactly 7 minutes and 8 seconds before Kammy was expected to lead them to bed. Then, at 12:30, the orchestra would change its tone and the lights would rise just a bit. At 12:45, the guests that didn't get the hint yet would be thanked for attendance by Kamek and Kara's other pre-approved 'dismissers'. She, herself, was then expected to leave. As the koopa custom, no matter how much the planner inside her hated it, Bowser and Peach had to be the last people in the room.

The clipboard's seventy-fourth and seventy-fifth pages, as the last details of the itinerary, spanned the most time in the least amount of details. The ball was designed to seem to flow to an end, with no forced or abrupt changes, and as few as possible choreographed details. It killed Kara to not personally help it come to an expectable end, but on the other hand, it gave her a chance to breathe, knowing any problems were no longer her fault.

She glanced at her watch, then over at Kammy. Of course, the magikoopa was slacking, arguing with Kamek about something. She stormed over to her, an eye always on her watch. She snarled, "you have five minutes and forty-eight seconds to get those koopalings towards their bedrooms and out of this ballroom. Whatever you're arguing about is trite in comparison to your current duty."

Kammy glared up at the female hammer bro, tapping her red stiletto like a would-be dictator. "Oh ye of little faith," she muttered, pulling herself out of her seat and towards the various koopalings.

Kara redirected her attention on Kamek, watching Kammy leave dubiously. "You do know your duty, right? I don't have to waste my precious time reminding you, right?"

Kamek smiled at Kara and nodded. "Relax, Kara. Enjoy yourself."

"Kamek, I don't think you understand the gravity of this ball. It's the one thing I'm hired for the entire year, and I don't want-"

"Kara, who is the ball for?"

Caught off-guard by Kamek's apparent disregard for Kara's speech, she stuttered, "His-his Nastiness, King Bowser."

"And, does King Bowser appear to be enjoying himself?"

Kara glanced over, watching Bowser show off a few of his break-dancing moves with Peach, trying to teach her the easiest ones to do in such an immobilizing dress. "That's not on the schedule!" She seethed, flipping through the pages to try and find the incriminating scheduled activity.

"Kara! Kara!" Kamek scolded, his wrinkled hand stopping her flipping fingers. "Answer my question."

Sighing, she looked back at the king. He was laughing with Peach, helping her up from a stumble. His face was glowing with euphoria as she bid him to continue the mini-lesson. "Yes…he does."

"Then it looks like you're doing your job just fine." His eyes twinkled, meeting Kara's uncertain gaze. "And yes, I do remember. 12:45. Approach any remaining guests and thank them for attending and wishing Bowser happiness on his birthday. Wish them safe travels home and good tidings for their families."

For one of the few times that night, Kara smiled.

xxxx0o0o0o0o0o0o0xxxx

Peach and Bowser rarely left each other's sides…or fronts, as dancing would have it. And as the night wore on, instead of growing eager to experience dancing with other members of the kingdom, Peach feared leaving Bowser even more. They monopolized their time, dancing with the eager citizens only while one got refreshments, went for air, or left for the bathroom. Peach had discovered she fit perfectly in Bowser's arms one certain position, and Bowser had learned his feet moved without his brain even directing them when the music allowed.

"You know," Peach said with a smirk as Bowser spun her for yet another waltz, "that shy-guy I danced with three dances ago told me I smell like you."

Bowser frowned. "Well, that's a shame."

Peach raised her eyebrows, placing her hands back into Bowser's as they circled and spun on the dance floor. "I'm a bit surprised you aren't pleased. I mean, that means that I've-"

"Oh, I know all the benefits of that," Bowser dismissed. "One, it means more people smell like me, which is always a good thing. And two, it means that I've got to hold you in my arms so much, other people's freaking noses can tell we're supposed to be one unit. But what I'm getting at is that that means he doesn't get to smell how amazing you smell. But then again, maybe we're better off if I get to keep your scent as my secret."

Peach smiled. "I know another good thing that can come out of this," she muttered flirtatiously.

"Oh yeah?"

"Now I have a dress that smells like you."

"Peachy, you can get as many of those as you want," Bowser replied with a smirk.

Unable of how to answer, Peach started to laugh. "This is a weird conversation, Bowser." She laughed again, continuing, "But I think I could probably talk about flying coconuts wearing bikinis with you and it wouldn't feel too weird."

"I'd just end up twisting it into some kind of flirting anyway," Bowser agreed, lifting Peach as the music decreed.

Peach floated back down into Bowser's arms like an angel. Softly, she said, "Bowser, we don't flirt. We talk and you lean towards the romantic side of the conversation. But we're not flirting."

"Says you," he muttered, grinning playfully.

Everyone eavesdropping around the royalties couldn't help but agree.

xxxx0o0o0o0o0o0o0xxxx

He had decided long ago that he was the happiest koopa in the room. If not the happiest koopa ever. The only thing that could ever raise Bowser's spirits was if Peach returned his love out-loud…or accepted a proposal…or kissed him…Okay, so maybe he wasn't the happiest koopa possible, but as Bowser danced the entire night with Peach, accepting her running-leaps when she was able to return to his arms, running his claws through her golden hair, feeling her tug on his arm every slow song, and catching her eye when she was off with someone else, he knew he was the happiest koopa in the room.

Bowser looked around to reaffirm his decision and realized he was definitely the happiest koopa in the room…he was also the only one. The waiters and chefs were moving the food back into the kitchen as to not spoil overnight, and besides them, there were only two goombas finishing their dessert as they walked towards the door in the whole ballroom.

"It's almost the Last Dance," Bowser muttered, a wave of nostalgia making his voice sweet and serene.

"What did you say?" Peach asked, looking back into his face as they spun.

"The Last Dance. They always wait until the guests of honor are the only people left and then they play the same song every birthday ball. My dad always used to sing it to my mom while they danced…and after they died and Clawdia and I were alone for the dance, I never liked it. But this year…" Bowser softly caressed Peach's cheek with his claw. "This year, I think I understand why my dad sang it."

"Are the words any good?"

Bowser chuckled. "They're really cheesy. And kind of stupid." Bowser looked into Peach's brilliant blue eyes, as she had pulled her head off his chest. "But falling in love makes me realize why people sing love songs in the first place, and the words sound really good."

"Bowser…" Peach cooed, her heart pattering at his flirt. He grinned back at her and they continued their waltz. Peach knew she shouldn't want this at all, but she couldn't help but imagine her and Bowser in their parents place. After all, they…they practically were. Just they weren't married and she wasn't a koopa. The rest was pretty much there...and I don't love him…that too, Peach mentally added, almost scolding herself for forgetting.

"Would you sing the words to me?" Peach asked, innocently.

Bowser gulped. "Sing?" He took a hand off his princess and scratched the back of his neck. "Peach, I can't-"

"I thought you said you knew the words, though!"

"I do," Bowser squeaked, his voice almost cracking, "But I can't…I can't sing. Peach, I'm tone-deaf."

"Nonsense," Peach reprimanded, "you're just embarrassed."

"No, really. I even had Ludwig test me."

Peach bit her lip. "Oh. Okay. That's fine." It was a silly wish, anyway. Why should they repeat Bowser's parents at all? They had no reason to…nothing in common…

Bowser gulped again, watching Peach's disappointment with distress. "But…I know it really well…I can try I guess."

"You will?" Peach asked, her eyes lighting up and dismissing her justifications.

"I just don't want to hurt your ears, Peachy."

Peach smiled at his worry, but couldn't imagine Bowser being tone-deaf. His scratchy, low voice could only sound better on moving pitches. He practically sang when he said he loved her, and his laugh had a ringing quality. "I'm sure there's no way that could happen."

Bowser forced a laugh, and glanced over at the buffet table. It was completely void of people now; the waiters had left as well. He moved his eyes to the two remaining goombas, thankfully still eating and chattering. Any other year and he would beg them to leave so he could go to bed, but another minute with Peach…and another minute he was farther from singing…was a blessed minute indeed.

They danced, moving as one, while Peach asked about the various murals on the wall. Bowser answered her questions abruptly, sometimes not even hearing the question at all. Peach sighed. "What's wrong now, Bowser?"

"Nothing," he curtly replied, his eyes glued on the goombas as they slowly rose from their chairs.

Peach followed his eyes and sighed. "Are you worried about that song I want you to sing?"

"Of course not!" Bowser squeaked, spinning Peach so she couldn't watch the goombas. "I'm never worried."

"Okay then…why are you so concerned?" Bowser bit his lip, staring down at Peach. "I already told you I don't care how good or bad your voice sounds."

"Then why do you care if I sing?"

"Because," Peach started to blush, looking away from Bowser's face. "I want to hear the words. You said they're good."

"They are!" Bowser agreed, continuing, "I always thought they were so cheesy and so stupid and that my dad was just trying to get Mom to be happy. But whoever wrote it knew what this must feel like…this love thing…because they're words I want you to hear." Bowser swallowed, softly admitting, "I just don't want to ruin them."

Peach felt her heart climb into her throat, somehow still caught off guard by Bowser's sweet comments. "I'm sure it'll make them even better with you singing," she managed to whisper.

Noticing the goombas chattering as they stepped through the doorframe, Bowser muttered, "well you won't have to wait long."

()Just as Bowser expected, as the goombas stepped out, Ludwig's band took a change in tempo, an impressive clarinet taking the main theme. Bowser gulped, thinking here goes nothing in his head as he touched Peach's face. "It's the last dance, we've come to the last dance; they're dimming the lights down, they're hoping we'll go…"

Peach giggled at Bowser's cracking, off-note voice, but let him continue, "it's obvious- they're aware of us, the pair of us, alone on the floor. Still, I want to hold you like this…" Bowser tightened his loving grasp, "forever and more."

Peach smiled, snuggling closer, and Bowser grew more confident. "It's the last song, they're playing the last song, the orchestra's yawning, they're sleepy I know…They're wondering just when will we leave, but till we leave, keep holding me tight." Bowser gulped, coming in a bit late on his next phrase, "Through the last dance, each beat of the last dance; save me the first dance in your dreams tonight."

The music swelled majestically, led by the clarinet solo, as Bowser and Peach spun. She spun with Bowser around the empty ballroom, letting herself lean back and feel her hair spin. They floated across the parquet, no need for a spotlight, and seemed to dance in a very dream. Every word she took to heart, understanding how ridiculously perfect they seemed to fit what the both of them felt. Bowser grinned down at Peach, proud that she seemed to be enjoying the dance as much as him; if that was even possible.

He began again, "They're wondering…just when will we leave, but till we leave, keep holding me tight…" He slowed them down as he took Peach into his arms closer, "Through the last dance, each beat of the last dance…"

Quietly, Peach joined in, her pitch-perfect soprano mingling with sweet dissonance to Bowser's off-key bass, "and save me the first dance in your dreams…tonight."

Peach giggled, noticing she had started singing 'tonight' far earlier than the song called for. Bowser looked down at her, grinning, as he remembered her beautiful voice. Peach smiled up at Bowser as they stopped dancing. "Thank you," she whispered, meaning a lot more than just her private serenade session.

Ludwig's orchestra was silent, and chairs began to scrape as the members prepared to leave. They could hear Bowser's oldest son's voice ever-so faintly telling them whatever it was he felt they needed to hear, but they ignored everything around them. "I love you. So much," Bowser stated, playing with Peach's fingers.

"I know you do," Peach replied, smiling smugly.

Bowser kept one hand with Peach's and looked over at the large doors, seeming to be leering at them. "I'll…I'll walk you to your bedroom," Bowser sighed, disappointed the night was over.

They began their slow walk through the hallways, choosing to take only elevators as shortcuts and ignoring the koopacars all together. Their hands were connected only by entwined pinkies, and their conversation circled the very long day.

It seemed impossible that just that morning, they had had breakfast with the whole royal family in Bowser's bedroom, or that that very afternoon they had opened gifts. It all seemed so very long ago…like the one day had lasted a whole year. Bowser and Peach didn't reach Peach's bedroom uninterrupted, however, as they were only half way there when they heard a voice calling after them.

"King Dad! Mama Peach!" Bowser and Peach turned around to see Lemmy, leaning out of a corridor, waving frantically.

"Lemmy, what is it?" Bowser growled.

"I just wanted to say hi!" Lemmy answered jovially, running out of his bedroom in his pajamas and towards Bowser and Peach.

"Then hi-" Bowser gruffly began, cut off by Lemmy's whomp of a hug. "What are you doing?" Bowser asked, his arms high above his son.

"Hugging you!" Lemmy answered, looking up at his dad. "Mama Peach taught it to me." Peach looked at Lemmy curiously. Yeah, she'd hugged him…and the other koopalings…but did they really not know what a hug was before she came?

"Oh," Bowser answered softly, easing his arms down to embrace his son. "Then…I guess it's cool."

Lemmy squirmed out of his father's hold and rushed into Peach's arms. She lifted him a bit, giving him a proper squeeze; easier, now that Lemmy's shell was off for the night. "We haven't seen you all day, Lemmy!"

"I know," he answered dully, letting Peach set him down. "Today was crazy, huh, King Dad? Your birthday's always crazy but today was even crazier, I think. Oh, guess what, King Dad!"

"Lemmy, you really should be in bed…you're lucky I'm in a good mood, otherwise you'd be cleaning the dungeons tomorrow."

"You didn't guess, King Daddy!"

Bowser rolled his eyes. "What is it?"

"I blew fire today!"

Bowser's eyes snapped open, his face lighting up like a light bulb. "You did?" Coughing, he corrected, "I mean, about time."

"I did, King Dad, I did! Wanna see?"

"I've seen fire before, Lemmy," Bowser drawled, trying to keep his voice slow and cool. "But whatever. Don't waste my time talking about it; let's see some action."

Lemmy stood in one place, his eyes moving up in his head as he mumbled, thinking out loud. "Think hard…let your throat heat up…think hard…" finally, Lemmy inhaled dramatically and blew a flame, large enough to make Peach squeal and squeeze Bowser's hand, but it extinguished as quickly as it had appeared. Lemmy looked at his father, absolutely beaming.

Peach as well turned her attention to Bowser. She felt a little flop of her heart as she inspected his expression…his eyes were glowing with pride and his mouth had the undeniable evidence of an attempt to swallow a smile. "Took you long enough to learn, Lemster," Bowser said. He ruffled Lemmy's rainbow mohawk affectionately, grumbling, "but I'm proud of you."

Peach smiled down at the grinning koopaling. "That was really cool, Lemmy. Soon, you'll be able to blow as much fire as your dad can!"

"Hey now, don't go crazy!" Bowser jokingly remarked.

"You think so, Mama Peach?" Lemmy asked genuinely, his eyes brimming with hope.

Peach felt a maternal pull towards the koopaling as he called her nickname with adoration. True, she wasn't any of the koopalings mothers, and Lemmy wasn't even young enough to actually ever mistake her for such, but she almost felt like she was supposed to be their Mama Peach, like it was right. And, guiltily, it made her feel more like her strange new pull towards Bowser was the right thing. She tried to forget that her feelings…as well as the feelings of those around her and their very lives…were real, and not just pieces in a complicated game of house.

"Yes, Lemmy, I do." Peach smiled, adding, "it'll take a few years, but if you practice like your dad does, I'm sure it can happen."

Bowser looked at Peach, feeling so helplessly in love and adoring of her nature. For a minute, he forgot that they weren't married, that she wasn't the mother of his children, and that she was going home in two days. For a minute, he felt complete. "Your mother's right, Lemster. Just keep trying…you might never be quite as good as me, nobody will be, but you'll get pretty darn close." He flashed Peach a grin, hoping for her approval. She caught his eye and nodded, proud and a bit flustered by his additional search for approval. She didn't even notice her given title.

Peach bent down and ushered Lemmy towards his bedroom. "Go back to bed, Lemmy. You should be asleep."

"Okay, Mama Peach. G'night, Mama Peach! G'night, King Dad!" Bowser watched Lemmy leave, and when he heard the door shut, he chuckled, still looking away from Peach.

"He's a good kid. Definitely stupider than most of my kids, but he's good. Sometimes, I think he doesn't understand the whole 'love-being-mean' thing that koopalings are supposed to act like, but…for him, it works." He turned to Peach, smirking, and noticed her expression had a faint smile and distant eyes. "What is it?"

Snapping out of her funk, Peach answered, "nothing, nothing…I was jut thinking…you're a pretty good Dad." Taken aback, Bowser didn't really respond. "I mean, you're no father of the year, but…your kids respect you more than most children respect both their parents combined. And you've got that weird way of loving them that only really works in your family...you might never admit you love them, but I think they can tell." Peach's smile faded a bit as she continued, "I think you're probably a better father than mine is."

"You don't talk about him much," Bowser replied, starting to walk down the hallway again with Peach.

"I know I don't…he's not a bad guy at all. He's a very good king, as anti-publicity as he is. But I was raised by Toadsworth and it feels like the only way anyone knows he's my father is because I'm Princess. I see him less than the public does…he shows up when I'm kidnapped to take my place in legislation, but he's gone before I can even say hello. I guess what I'm saying is I wouldn't exactly run out of my bedroom to say hi as he walked by at some ungodly hour with a girl."

Bowser was quiet for a little bit. "My parents were okay, I guess. My mom was always too over-bearing and lovey-dovey. Every day it was 'Bowsy this' and 'Bowsy that' and 'come eat your cookies, sugar!' or 'You're such a smarty, Bow-Wow! Keep up the good work'. It was embarrassing, like I was never going to grow up. And yet, I almost never saw eye-to-eye with her, and it was always pretty annoying that she loved me to bits when I was being a good kid, but the second I had an opinion of my own…like marrying you…I was the bad guy and she had to squash my opinion as soon as possible. When I got older I realized Evil Mom was usually more real than Nice Mom, so I decided I wouldn't trick my kids into thinking they were little gods who could all rule the world and then treat them like ratty old plumbers when we disagreed.

"My dad though…he was only around to yell at me in the first place. He was always off taking over some new territory, prancing around the kingdom, or shutting up retarded dignitaries. He only ever joined the family to take pictures and yell at his kids. Apparently, he was a good guy. Mom sure liked him. And when they were together, I understood why they wanted me to follow through with the arranged marriage. But he never let me see that. Ever. I guess I wanted to be the father mine never was, and make up for all the mistakes I saw in Mom. But it's hard being both parents…I know why my dad was the way he was, for sure. And no matter how hard I try, I'm not a mom."

"Well," Peach muttered, smiling up at Bowser. "You're doing a fine job."

"It's nice to have help every once in a while," Bowser quietly replied. "The koopalings haven't been as happy as they have this week for years. Neither have I."

"Being Mama Peach isn't too bad," Peach answered with a smile. "You guys make it seem easy."

"What about being Mrs. Bowser?" Bowser flirtatiously asked, grabbing her around the waist.

"Bowser!" She laughed, fighting to get out of his arms. Her cheeks were a furious red, and she tried to hide the blush as she faced her door. "I have to go to bed now."

His eyebrows were a mile high as he pointed out, "You didn't answer my question!"

"I shouldn't have to. You know the answer!" She opened her door and went in, standing in the open doorframe.

"You love it so much you want to marry me now?" Bowser asked, sincere hope shining in his eyes.

Peach bit her lip and looked down. "No, not exactly. I like spending time here, but…Bowser, you know I don't…I don't love you." The words were forced, and hurt her to say them. It hurt her to say it, just like it hurt her to lie.

Bowser sighed. "Yeah…I guess. I'm just trying to be optimistic."

Her face lit up again. She was determined to not let the conversation kill her evening. "But I do love that. It's a reason why I…like you…a lot more than I used to."

"And you know I love you, right?" Bowser asked, frantically.

Peach laughed. "I don't think I'm likely to forget anytime soon, Bowser. Don't worry." She smiled and took his hand one last time. "I know you love me just as much as I know the sun's coming up tomorrow."

Bowser grinned. "Good. And speaking of tomorrow…I'm gonna come pick you up at eight for breakfast. Then we'll head to town. I'm excited."

"Me too!" Peach smiled. "If it's half as good as today, I won't wanna go home!"

"Then I'll make sure it's even better!" Bowser practically shouted. Then, in an undertone added, "but it better not be as long."

Peach laughed. "If it's better than today, I don't think I'll mind it being long. But if it's going to be, I'd better get to bed right now…you too!"

Bowser sighed, grumbling like a child, "alright, fine." He slumped his shoulders and began to stalk off before Peach caught him.

"Bowser, wait." The koopa king obediently turned around, grinning hopefully. From her doorway, Peach sweetly sang, "Save me the first dance in your dreams tonight."

Author's Note: Are you relieved the ball's over? ;) It's weird, being done with the ball. I nodded to it quite a few times...best example is Kara's notes of 75 pages? That's how many pages on word this ball comes to. D: JUST THE BALL. Also, any remarks about the day being a year long...yet another nod at how CRAZY this ball is. I knew it would take awhile, as the ball is the climax (except for the conclusion, but shh) but seriously. I went crazy, I think.

As I said, I'm only half-way through (if that!) 30, so I really don't have much to say about it at all...um...I'm hoping it's good? I honestly don't even know if there'll be fluff, BUT there will be a reprise of a few characters we haven't seen in awhile, so that's always fun. :)

Guys, did you notice I have over 500 reviews? THAT'S CRAZY. NO JOKE. And as a gift to the lovely Deanna625, a LONG time reader who landed review 500, she has a request that will be showing up next chapter. I think I'm a bit in denial I ACTUALLY hit 500...I already told y'all how I thought I would get max 17 reviews, right? Yeah. Not a joke. I'm still boggled how you guys like it this much...but I love you all so much for it! Every one of you makes my day by merely existing!

Now I think I have a longer A/N than I really should...sorry about that!

-Razzi