Foreword:
this is how lame I am. This chapter is (technically) 10 days late, but also right on schedule as I wanted to post it on Change of Heart's 4th birthday. You would think having 40 days of a buffer would give me enough time to write good, solid chapters and get back on track. But somehow, it wasn't enough. This chapter is undeniably shorter than most, hardly more than half of a normal chapter. However, I wanted to post today, so post I shall. I would like to make up for it by posting a good chapter in the coming updates, but I'm not absolutely certain how that's going to work, as I'm crazy behind in schoolwork.
Anyway, today marks four years of Change of Hearts. Hooooly monkeys. A LOT can happen (and has) in four years, and yet in this story, I just barely finished a week. Sheesh. The dedication you guys put into sticking with this story simply amazes me, and it's so far been a ride I won't ever forget. What a remarkable four years, what an old, dusty story.
Disclaimer before we get into the first chapter in the fifth year- I own nothing of Nintendo's, but I do believe they own part of my soul.
International First class looked uncomfortably similar to a larger version of Bowser's private jet. When she first saw it, Peach just grinned and flounced around, sitting down in the plush side-couch and imagining Bowser beside her, looking at the doorway that was just like the one in which she kissed him, and even the kitchen where she could see the drink fountains. It was too bad they probably didn't serve flaming bub-ulbs; it'd be nice to taste the closest thing she could get to Bowser's lips for one more time.
But the elation didn't last long. Once Daisy chuckled and told Peach it wasn't free-seating, that she had to sit on the other couch with herself and Mario, she was a lot less bubbly feeling. The plane felt a lot colder, knowing she couldn't be warmed by Bowser's scaly skin.
With an accidentally loud sigh, she got up and moved. As Peach walked over, feeling rather out of it, like she'd been pushed off her high and now had no stomach as she fell, she absent-mindedly crashed into another passenger. "Oh," Peach muttered, "I'm so sorry." She looked up at the woman, now straightening from retrieving her fallen carry-on. The woman was almost the exact same height as Peach, and with her blonde, voluminous hair and sapphire eyes, she could easily pass for a Peach doppelganger.
"That's perfectly fine, I…do I know you?" She blinked, tugging at her fur coat suspiciously.
Peach lit up with amusement. "Perhaps you recognize me from your mirror."
The woman laughed with a deep, but fantastically feminine chuckle. "Per'aps. But I was zinking…haf you heard of 'cause-play', spelled wif an 'ay-ooh'?"
Peach almost chocked on her saliva, literally fearing she'd been found out for a moment. "Umm…actually…yes. Were you in the Peach look-a-like contest?"
She grinned, showing off two sets of stunning teeth. A little jealously, Peach noticed that there were some aspects of this woman that were too pretty to accurately pit her as an identical match. "Vy, yes! Zat must be from where I recognize you! You are veddy good, miss…"
"Um…I…I go by Princess Peach when I'm…in costume." She chuckled, hoping it was believable. Peach's conscience was stirring her up, making her feel sick for her near-lie. Without Bowser by her side, it was much less of a game.
"Of course." She smiled serenely. "I's veddy interesting we are both going to Grand Canal. Is this your last stop, or just von of ze required transfers?"
"Require-?" Peach stopped her question with her sudden realization. Of course, she thought, there had to be some way to keep visitors in and out as secret as possible. "No, this is my final stop. I'm visiting my…I'm just visiting."
"Did you vin for best look-a-like?"
"No, I was cut early because I don't have a tiara."
"Zat is ridiculous," she scoffed, shaking her head. Other passengers had begun to build up behind the woman in fur, and a few were now clearing their throats and tapping their shoes impatiently. "I fink I am blocking ze line. It 'as been nice seeing you again, 'Princess Peach'. Enjoy Grand Canal!" She waved and left, looking a lot more pleased with her current condition and, likewise, a lot more royal than Peach felt.
"Hey, that was Toadsworth's fake-Peach!" Daisy laughed, grabbing Peach's arm. "Were you apologizing to her?"
"Apologizing?"
"Yeah, Toadsworth sort of led a stampede onto her. I wonder if he ever found out where she was going…imagine the odds!"
"Heh…yeah." Peach didn't say anything else, but just sat down, considering what had just conspired. "Imagine the odds…" How many other people had been to the look-a-like contest? Would anyone remember her as the girl whose 'boyfriend' dressed in drag and made a scene? Or would she always just look like another Peach Doppleganger? And what about her real identity? Who would recognize that? Who wouldn't?
"Peach, you look sick," Daisy muttered, putting the back of her hand on her cousin's forehead. "Should I get Mario over here? He's just talking to some fans, I think."
"No, don't do that," she groaned.
Daisy attempted a laugh, and then raised her eye-brow. "He'll have to come over eventually, dear." Peach closed her eyes and nodded. Everything was a little too much for her right now…she had the sinking feeling that her life had just changed without her permission, and she wasn't certain she wanted to get everything back to 'normal', even if she could. "Are you gonna tell me what's going on with you, Peach? Where were you last week?"
She sighed, and opened her mouth to answer, but Mario showed up in the doorway to first class just then. He smiled at them both, Peach's mouth still stupidly agape, and sat down by his supposed girlfriend. She quickly shut her mouth and flashed Daisy an apologetic stare.
It was Daisy's turn to sigh, but she nodded in understanding.
Peach looked over at Mario, sitting in similar silence as he looked around. She followed his eyes; they were caught on the food trolley. For a moment, she was jealous his mind could be occupied by such little drama.
"One day," Daisy said quietly, "he'll have to deal with real life, too. It's not just us girls," she consoled, reading Peach's mind with ease. She smiled back at her with gratitude, reading Daisy's face that she was letting her off the hook, but not for long. Suddenly, she realized that she and Daisy's silence was absolutely nothing like Mario's. Theirs said so much more, and she appreciated it so much more.
xxxx0o0o0o0o0o0o0xxxx
The flight to Grand Canal was already several hours long, but as they were flying in accordance with time-zones, the nine hour flight would have them land in the very early morning. Considering they were in the air for nine hours and their watches read a flight almost double that length, the time should have zoomed by. But it was completely the opposite, even for the happiest of passengers.
To Peach, she seemed to feel every minute as if it were five, and no amount of gourmet meals, in-flight movies, or light conversation could keep her from feeling restless. The only time she felt as if time was moving at a normal pace, if not too fast, was once she finally fell asleep.
There, curled up with her feet falling out of her high-heels and her head lolling off of her head-rest, she could finally imagine the first-class cabin as the plane she'd much rather be in. Or as the meadow, where she could have another happy picnic with music, adoring koopalings, and lazy lava rivers. Or as a secret alleyway, where, hidden behind damaged garbage dumpsters, she could be promised love and given finger-kisses. Or as her guest bed, where she could lace her fingers in between those of someone else, someone who would wait for her to wake just to see her eyes open again and shine at his presence.
Her dreams replayed the best parts of her last week over and over again, sometimes in more detail than her own memory seemed to have given, occasionally completely mixing things or adding events that had never actually occurred. More than once, Peach dreamt of playing pickle-ball over an elegant meal while Bowser wore a too-tight Peach dress. And there was that moment when Ludwig pranced in on a dream-stroll, declaring her to be Queen of the Pie Hole before quickly transforming into a golden retriever. Peach was pretty certain that had never happened.
Most likely due to the emotionally and physically draining week, Peach was able to sleep through the entire crossing of the ocean below. But eventually there was enough turbulence that Peach couldn't continue her marathon nap as they flew over the countryside. She jerked awake, noticing that her friends had left her alone on the bench. Daisy and Luigi were sitting by each other at one of the bars, a deck of cards between them. It looked like he was teaching her to count cards. Mario was nowhere to be seen.
Peach yawned politely and stretched, readjusting her mouth to the taste of being awake. Standing up was harder than Peach had imagined and she wobbled over to the bar to get a drink for her morning breath. The shy guy behind the bar looked up at her, cleaning a glass without real purpose. "What'll it be, sleeping beauty?"
"Do you have…do you have any flaming bub-ulbs?" She smiled faintly and hopefully. Maybe, Peach thought, I'll be able to go back to sleep if nobody sees I woke up.
But Peach was to have no such luck. At hearing her voice, Mario suddenly reappeared. "Mama mia, Princess Peach!" he laughed. "They do not-a sell koopa drinks on-a this plane."
"Actually, bub, we do," the bartender laughed. "It's an international company." He turned to Peach with a look of pride. "However, you still need a special license stamp to get the amount of koopale in a flaming bub-ulb."
"Can I just have it virgin then?" Peach asked hopefully.
The shy guy stared at her with what was most likely a bemused expression. "Are you…aware…what normally goes into a flaming bub-ulb, miss?"
She honestly replied, "no," and started to blush. "But could you try and make one anyway?"
He chuckled and turned away to prepare her drink. Mario turned to face her instead. "Did you sleep-a well?" he asked, trying to seem as interested as possible.
"Very," she replied truthfully. "But I think I'm still tired, so I'm just gonna take my drink and try to fall back asleep." Right on cue, the shy guy turned back to Peach with her glass. There were tell-tale fruits at the bottom, but instead of having layers of green, orange, and red, there was just a lot of red and a faint, sparkling orange layer.
"I doubt it'll taste very much like what you're used to," he muttered.
She raised the glass to her lips, opening just enough to taste the super-sweet and strangely bitter blend. She put it down and closed her eyes tightly, trying to match the taste to those of Bowser's lips. It was almost certainly a horrible idea, but if I can get a firmer grasp on her memories, she justified, then I should be able to get over them faster.
The taste was nothing like Bowser. She realized there was quite a bit missing from the drink itself, but that was absolutely unimportant. Bowser was…smoky, understandably. But mostly, she could just taste love on his lips. She laughed lightly at herself for even thinking that she could have duplicated the experience with a drink.
"How is it?" Mario and the shy guy asked in unison.
"It's…not quite what I remembered. But I'm sure it would be delicious with the right amount of koopale."
The shy guy chuckled. "Trust me, Princess. Koopale is the tamest of ingredients you're missing. How exactly did you taste this particular cocktail the first time?"
She gulped and looked away, messing with her hair. "It was…splashed on my food." She hated lying. But what could she say, with Mario staring her down like that?
"And it was-a so good that you asked-a to have an entire glass?" Mario asked, intrigued.
"No," Peach growled, growing impatient. "I just wanted to remember what it tasted like."
"So you asked-a for an entire gla-"
"Yes, Mario, I asked for an entire glass," she seethed. What was it about Mario that had made him so aggravating? Was it just that he was interrupting her quest to remember a person she shouldn't even care to think about in the first place? "Now if you'd excuse me, I need some more sleep."
"You do sound a bit-a tired," he agreed.
Peach restrained herself from turning and lashing out at him, shrinking over to the couch again in steaming silence. She curled into position and shut her eyes, focusing on all her best memories.
But sleep was slow to come. The sounds all around her were loud, brass, and completely unwelcome. She tried to drown them out, but only gave herself a larger headache.
xxxx0o0o0o0o0o0o0xxxx
The humble, nondescript airplane touched down in one of VolcanoPalace's hangars, and Bowser could hardly wait to bound out. He paced in front of the door, demanding loudly that the pilot open it for him so he could hug his children. Bowser grinned toothily at him, adding that he wanted to tell them how much he loved them.
The pilot was happy to oblige and get Bowser off his plane. The table had been uprooted from the spot it was screwed down, the windows were scratched to near oblivion, and the ceiling was now a charred color of black. Not to mention, his entire supply of strawberry syrup had been depleted.
In his uncharacteristic glee, Bowser ran down the plane stairs and saw Kammy walking towards them. He roared in his laughter and ran to greet her. Easily, Bowser lifted the tiny magikoopa and tossed her into the air. "Isn't today fantastic?" he shouted, showing off even his deepest-back of molars.
"So I suppose you're not…upset?"
"Upset?" Bowser laughed, whirling her around and hugging her like a tiny doll. "Why in the Darklands would I be upset?" Kammy opened her mouth to answer, but Bowser thumped her onto the ground too quickly, knocking her reply, and all her breath, right out of her. "Can you keep a secret?" he asked, eyes wide as saucers.
"Do I have much of a choice?" she asked, amused.
"Good!" Bowser lifted her up again, bringing the side of her head right to his mouth. "Princess Peach kissed me!" This time, it was Kammy's eyes that went wide. Soon, she was choking again as Bowser gave her a second strangling hug and laughed triumphantly. "Me! Right on the MOUTH!"
"You realize she's gone now, right, sire?" Kammy asked nervously.
"Really gone," Bowser agreed loudly, "but never missing!" He laughed and spun around, then stopped in his tracks. "Or is it supposed to be the other way around?" He shrugged and literally tossed Kammy away, apparently forgetting she was a living being and not a plane seat. "It doesn't matter! She KISSED me!"
He laughed again, rushing down the hallway and singing nonsensical words at the top of his off-key voice.
He had turned down two hallways, curious heads poking out of doors and around corners in his wake. Wendy rushed out to the hallway to meet him, panting. "I…like…felt a total urge to…like…be here. What's…going on?"
"Wendy!" He bellowed, picking up his only daughter and spinning her around. "I have so much to tell you!" He set her down and, very seriously and in a low-voice, asked, "What do you do when your soul mate kisses you?"
Wendy's eyes went wide, and she squeezed her father's hands, shrieking as she bounced up and down. "You call an emergency sleep-over!" She let go of one of his hands and pulled him down the hallway. "I'll call all my friends! You call all of yours!"
"I don't have any!" Bowser shouted in just as excited of a voice. "They're all my employees or prisoners of war!"
"Then we'll, like, call Mama Peach's friends that she made while she was, like, here." She continued to run, Koopa King in tow, until she got to the kitchen and pounded on the door.
"Hunny, what'chu want now?" Cookoopa called from through the door. She swung it open and stared down at Wendy, unable to keep her scowl long as she met her glowing eyes. "What's goin-"
"I need to, like, make an announcement to the kitchen staff."
"Are we throwin' a party?"
"Yep," she agreed, pushing the elderly koopa aside to stand in the kitchen. She continued in a bellow, "a slumber party! Daddy has drama!"
Dozens of girly screams echoed off the pots and pans as goombas, koopas, and boos skated to surround Wendy. Bowser couldn't understand any of their high-pitched blathering, and found it odd that, except for countless glances over at him, they refused to confront the King about the drama himself. That is, except for Cookoopa, who hadn't rushed to jump up and down with Wendy.
"So what's so exciting, your majesty?" she asked, elbowing him in the side.
"It's a secret," Bowser grinned.
"Really?" Cookoopa asked, raising an elbow far up. "Because it ain't gonna be a secret long."
He smirked, but his eyes were dancing. "I'll tell you tomorrow. I don't want these people to overhear yet."
"Come on, dad!" Wendy laughed, running out the door with almost the entire kitchen staff in tow. "We have to tell my friends about the sleepover!"
"Wait," Bowser growled, snapping out of his love-drunk attitude into paternal mode for a moment, "these aren't all of them?"
The girls all laughed, and Wendy shook her head. "Dad, you are so, like, out of the loop."
"But don't worry, sire," one cheeky goomba piqued, "we'll cure you alright!"
Wendy rushed up to her dad, grabbing his hands and squealing. "I'm so happy for you, Daddy! This is, like, going to be totally the best sleepover ever!"
Bowser felt his stomach turn a bit, remembering exactly the kiss that spurred all this forthcoming excitement. Butterflies raced through his entire body, and his face lit up to a goofy smile again. "Yeah, Wendy," he agreed, "it totally is…"
Author's Note: Happy Birthday, Change of Heart. :) I apologize both to the nature of this fic and to you readers that we had to celebrate with such a short, unedited chapter. I may have promised some of you that the "exciting/scary story elements" were in this chapter, but since I've left off 3-4 pages of usual length, it's not here yet. So that's what we have to look forward to- the unknown.
My deepest appreciation again for sticking with me, either these past four years or just more recently, being aware its taken so long. It's you guys, just as much as Bowser and Peach, that are making this ride so worthwhile.
-Razzi