Foreword: Goodness gracious, I don't think anyone realizes how terrible I honestly feel about that hiatus. Hopefully, no one thought I had died or quit the story before its conclusion. I intend on doing neither thing. You must realize that every spare moment I had I spent on this chapter. Which just goes to show how little spare time I've had!

I wanted to make it up to you by giving a nice, good chapter, but since we're in a weird part of the story, I don't know how techincally good the chapter ended up being. It's definately long, though, so...yay?

Disclaimers: First of all, I am in no way affliated with Nintendo and don't own anything in this chapter. However, I owe them a part of my life. Second of all, I am in no way Italian and am doing my best to not butcher the language. If anyone fluent in Italian wants to be awesome and help me get my phrases linguistically correct in the upcoming chapters better than babel fish and Italian phrase websites can, I will also owe you a part of my life and be eternally grateful. In the mean time, please excuse any mistakes I may make.

"Mama Peach!" Bowser junior called, sprinting across the runway to her. Peach's plane had landed, and somehow the pilot had gotten completely turned around. Far from Grand Canal, they had landed in the Darklands, right in front of the youngest koopaling.

She grinned wide, realizing how much she missed such appreciation. "Junior! What are you doing out here?"

He leapt into her arms and squeezed around her neck while answering, "We saw your plane and came to see if it was really you!"

"We?" Peach asked. Suddenly, she became aware that the other seven koopalings were squirming around her, excitedly jabbering between each other.

"Peach, are you going to introduce us?" Daisy asked, laughing as Lemmy stared in confusion at Daisy's presence.

"Oh, of course! Mario, Luigi, Daisy; this is Larry, Lemmy, Roy, Wendy, Ludwig, Morton jr, Iggy, and Bowser Junior."

"We've-a…met," Mario muttered.

Luigi glanced nervously at the koopalings, but Roy quickly laughed, "Ah, we ain't gonna fight ya. Not in front of the dolls, at least, eh boys?" The other koopalings grunted agreements.

"You just keep your gloves of my Mama, fatman!" Junior snarled from Peach's arms.

She laughed and tapped his muzzle. "Junior, that is no way to talk to Uncle Mario."

Somewhere in the distance, a fanfare signified the opening of giant oaken doors Peach had never before noticed. The plane had apparently flown off, too, as the group was definitely inside a grand hall, not on the runway. Dramatically flanked by koopas and goombas, Bowser strode out from the doors and approached them. He seemed taller and even more fit than Peach remembered. And when he saw her, he flashed a smile that made her head spin from across the room.

It took maybe two seconds for him to suddenly be directly in front of Peach and her friends. The koopalings were all gone by now, except for Lemmy, who was holding Luigi's hand, Junior, who was circling Mario like a hungry cheep-cheep, and Iggy, who was staring up at Daisy in total adoration.

"You came back soon," he murmured.

"Nothing could keep me away from you," she replied, taking his hands.

"I'm glad you brought your friends. Is Daisy going to be the maid-of-honor?"

"Of course!" Peach answered, rolling in Bowser's grasp to face her friends. His arms held her securely around the waist. "And I'd like Mario to be one of your groomsmen, if that's okay."

"Anything for my future queen," Bowser purred. He kissed the top of her head. Then they were alone. She turned and looked deeply into his eyes, seeing her entire future in those dark pupils. "We're here, Peach," he said.

"I know. It's all seemed to happen so fast, but we're finally here!"

"Let's go; we're here," he repeated.

"We have to wait for the florist to arrive, Bowser," she laughed.

"Come on, Peach, get up. It's time to get off the plane."

"What?"

"Let's go, Peach," Bowser repeated in Daisy's voice, nudging her until everything came into focus and it was Daisy looking down at her, not the Koopa King. "Sleep well?"

She blinked slowly, sitting up. At least her migraine was gone. "I had one of those weird dreams. The kind that feels like a good dream, but when you wake up, it totally should have been a nightmare."

"Like when Luigi dreamt he was being crushed alive by jelly-beans?" Daisy asked. "That was how he got the courage to try all the flavors. Now they're practically his favorite food!"

Peach chuckled. "Not exactly the same, but sorta, yeah. Let's, um…find Mario and Luigi."

"They're already off the plane, actually," Daisy said as she led Peach towards the cabin door. "You should see how excited they are to be here."

And seeing how excited they were turned out to be exactly what Peach needed. Mario was literally rolling on the balls of his feet while he waited for the princesses with his brother. Luigi was, surprisingly, the one drooling over all the authentic Italianesque food around them in the airport. The look on Mario's face was one of her favorites; he knew what he wanted, and it wasn't out of hatred towards Bowser or desire to be victorious- it was completely out of childlike glee.

They laughed the entire way to baggage claim, Mario and Luigi excitedly reading the things written in Italian and translating them for Daisy and Peach. The entire time, Peach only learned two new phrases- "il bagno", the most reoccurring sign that signified the bathroom on nearly every corner, and "sbrigati!", Mario's new favorite word, stemmed from his impatience.

A paunchy shy-guy was waiting for them at the luggage carousels, holding a sign that read "Gruppo di Mario". They walked over to him, smiling and waving. Mario thrust his gloved hand out towards the shy guy, saying, "That is-a us! 'Gruppo di Mario' is here!"

"Parlo soltanto Italiano," the shy guy answered, with what was almost certainly a sneer under his mask.

"Oh, mi scusi," he apologized. "Siamo Gruppo di Mario." He gestured at the "M" on his hat, and the shy guy gruffly nodded. He began to babble in Italian far faster than either princess could dare to try and keep up with. Mario and Luigi listened intently, nodding every now and again in understanding. Occasionally they would laugh or add a comment. By the end of their short conversation, the shy guy seemed much happier and completely convinced of their identities.

He walked over to the carousel with them, talking with the Mario brothers so quickly that Peach almost missed words she knew, like "Mushroom Kingdom", "Peach", "Daisy", and "Bowser". Although she caught the last one immediately. The group waited patiently to grab their bags; as Peach has seven, Daisy had five, and Mario and Luigi had each checked one, the wait was fairly long and involved. It seemed like a fourth of the plane's luggage was theirs.

The paunchy shy guy wheeled over a cart and directed [[follow me]], leading them out to the outermost doors of the airport. When the doors automatically swung out, Peach couldn't suppress her gasp. Even just this airport view of Grand Canal was absolutely stunning. The patio connected to the airport seemed to double as a dock, dozens of grand waterbuses, gondolas, and even yachts bobbing in the wide expanse of water. It narrowed on either side to become the famous canals of the city, separating them from the small parking lot connected by bridge. It seemed the lot pointed only away from the city.

Just a few meters down from the widened portion of canal, the city rose up like a bed of daisies. The buildings were old, but colorful, and stood out against the bright blue waters. Some were decorated in foreign writing (not all of which was obviously Italian), others in English, and a very few more looked like residences. Beautiful golden cobblestone walkways separated the storefronts from the water, and there were gondolas pulled up in front of most of them, parked like cars at a parking meter.

"La mia è qui," the shy guy said, directing his group comment at Mario and Luigi. He seemed happiest when he ignored Peach and Daisy's existence, so they kept quiet. They headed down the side of the water to something that seemed a cross between a yacht and a gondola, stretched to seemingly impractical lengths. It quickly became obvious that this was the Grand Canal equivalent of a limousine. He heaved their luggage onto the boat, moving the load of fourteen bags into a covered compartment, and then helped them each get from the dock to the boat.

"Does he know where to go, Luigi?" Daisy asked quietly, as if hoping her English wouldn't be heard and get her kicked off the very nice boat.

"Um…speaking of that," Peach interrupted, "Where are we going?"

"First to our-a hotel, then to our parent's-a house," Mario explained. "Conoscente dove andare, si?" he called to the shy guy now acting as chauffeur, making absolutely certain.

"Si, signore," he answered. Mario nodded at Peach, reaffirming the answer. He had an odd look of pride about him. She decided it must be the feeling of home…all four of them were constantly looking out at the scenery, especially as the boat began its graceful glide through the water. But while Daisy and Peach were looking over the architecture and scenic views like tourists, Mario and Luigi looked like they were searching for a connection within the city that already existed within themselves.

When the ride was finished gliding through the canals, keeping to the right to not hit any other boats, passing through streams of bouncy music and tempting aromas, the group couldn't wait to get into their hotel. Not only was jet-lag catching up with most of them, but the hotel looked like something straight out of a postcard. The white marble façade glittered, reflecting with the colors around it, and the carved-open windows were all decorated with window boxes and fluttering curtains.

And yet, the outside was a mere humble shell, compared to the ornate golden, marble, and tapestry adorned main lobby. The stone floor, glittering with its elaborate floral patterns, ran right up to the stunning arches that surrounded them. By the grand staircase, fountain statues of chubby baby shy-guys seemed to herald their entry. And on either side, great golden cage elevators hummed up and down through the wide-open lobby atrium, moving towards the crystal chandelier and the beautiful, tinkling music that came from the light fixture itself.

The chauffeur shy guy helped their bags out and heralded the help of an eager bell-guy. Mario paid the chauffeur, bid him "Grazi", and directed his leading opinion towards the bell-guy, struggling underneath Peach's largest pink suitcase, filled, as she remembered, with her new elegant ballgown. "Here," she breathed, rushing over to stop the bag from crashing down, "let me help you."

"Oh, thank you, signorita!" he replied. Together, they laid the bag on the third of the filled carts for the group. "That was the last of them. Do you know which room is yours yet?" His accent held no trace of his citizenship at all, and if she hadn't heard him talking with the chauffeur, Peach may not have even believed he belonged in the same country.

"No, I think my…um…friend…is checking in right now. We're getting two rooms." She looked over at the desk, where Mario was, indeed, trading golden coins for two silver keys. The shy guy behind the desk with an enormous moustache, oddly enough located outside his mask, nodded graciously at him. Peach waited for him to come over, then smiled brightly and asked, "Do we have good rooms?"

Mario nodded simply, smiling wide. Luigi took the keys from him, inspecting the numbers scrawled into the metal, and added, "Not quite the best-a they have, but better than any room you have ever-a seen!"

"So which is ours, Lu?" Daisy asked, putting an arm around his waist and looking down at the keys.

"Wait, what?" Peach barked. "Are we splitting up by…couples?" The word felt odd and forced on her tongue, but made a horrible lot of sense. "Are Mario and I sharing the other room?"

"Well, how did you think we would split it?" Daisy asked. "We're here on…a couples retreat."

"No," Peach muttered, "You weren't even coming, originally!"

"Neither was I," Luigi interjected, staring her down. "It was-a just you and-a Mario. You have-a had this reservation for a long time. It was-a very kind of the manager to allow it to be changed to this-a week."

"And because we're out of tourist season," the bell guy added. The group glared at him for eavesdropping, and he quickly straightened out, adding, "I'll just wheel these to the hallway then! Tell me which room is which when you get up there, I guess!" He took off towards the service elevator, tripping over himself to get away from the angry guests.

"But Luigi," Peach began pointedly. The bellboy's faux pas had given her ample time to think. "You just said we've had this reservation for a long time. Yeah, I always planned on going with Mario as a couple," the word was still awkward on her tongue, "but we never planned on rooming together. When you two joined, we just added you to our already separate bedrooms. It's more of a dramatic change to put the couples together." She dared to glance at Daisy, scanning her face to see if her cousin would help her. But from the pout on Daisy's face, she was not pleased to be on the losing side of the argument.

Mario looked from Luigi to Daisy, his expression giving away his confusion more than disappointment. But overall, he seemed to not mind rooming with his brother for yet another week. "As long as I get-a to pick the bed first-a."

Daisy sighed dramatically, letting go of Luigi and snatching one of the silver keys. "Alright, Peach. Let's go find our room." She grabbed her cousin's arm and went off in a huff, pulling her far enough ahead of the brothers that they wouldn't hear. "Look, I love you and all, but I really-"

"I'm sorry I'm spoiling your romantic week," Peach interrupted.

"That's not my biggest problem," Daisy told her, under her breath. "Luigi and I have a long time to come back and visit his family. I'm sure we'll have our fair share of sharing a room, too. I'm just upset that you're obviously not keen on spending a romantic week with Mario, and here I am, thinking you wanted him to propose this week!"

Peach stayed silent as they continued their forward march, entering an empty cage elevator and waiting for the brothers to join them. Finally, just before they entered, she spoke. "I'm sorry. I don't even know for myself yet."

"Know what?" Luigi asked. Mario selected the seventh floor, and with a charming ding, the elevator doors closed.

"What to do this week," Daisy lied easily. "Do we have many plans at all?"

"Well, I would-a like to nap," Mario admitted. "That-a plane ride wore-a me out." The rest of the group, except for Peach, muttered in agreement. She'd gotten enough sleep on the plane, but admittedly, dreaming did sound wonderful at the moment.

Finding their rooms on the seventh floor was not difficult. The bell-guy, surrounded by carts, was situated in front of two red doors, waiting patiently. "Have you decided?" He asked.

Daisy opened the leftmost door and peered inside. "Ooh!" She called, adoring the high ceiling and large, expansive room. It was almost as ornate inside as it was in the lobby, and curling gold seemed to trace every piece of furniture and every corner of the walls. "Peach and I are taking this one. So all the pink and yellow bags can come in here."

Obediently, the bell guy rolled the trolleys through the door and into the expanse of room. Lightly, he plucked Mario and Luigi's combined bags off the top of the most empty trolley, carried them to the brothers' room, and returned to help unload the ridiculous amount of luggage Peach and Daisy had brought.

After he was through and they had given him his generous tip, the boys excused themselves to take a nap. Peach moved to open one of her suitcases, intending on unpacking enough to make sense of her wardrobe, when Daisy grabbed her hand. "Hold up, Peach; you've got some 'splaining to do." She sat down on one of the beds, sinking into the down mattress with gleeful surprise. Slowly, Daisy let herself fall back onto the bed, and sighed dramatically. "Ohh…hoho…" she chuckled in complete adoration. "But storytime can wait." Daisy curled up over the covers, closing her eyes and breathing deeply.

Peach chuckled and turned back to her bag. "At least until I have an excuse," she quietly agreed.

xxxx0o0o0o0o0o0o0xxxx

An elegant toad approached King Toadstool, reclining in a chair by a castle window. "Good Afternoon, sire. I have excellent news of your daughter's whereabouts."

"Do you?" He spun around to face his subject, a smile on his face. "More news? This is certainly a more pleasant situation than we were in yesterday."

"Yes, well, they've landed and have checked in to the hotel. Rooms 714 and 716, as previously planned, with the princesses in 714. Everything seems to be in order, everyone seems to be safe."

"And has she disclosed her previous location?"

"Not that our eyes and ears know of. Her friends also seem unaware."

The king bit the inside of his cheek and looked out the window again. Birds were chasing each other, near one of the castle's fountains. "But at least we know she's safe. She'll tell us in good time, I'm sure of it." He chuckled. "I think my doctor is going to be pleased most of all. My blood-pressure has been through the roof this past week."

"Excuse me for my assumptions, but I thought you seemed so calm about the situation, sire."

"That's my job, sir. Keep a steady face. Kings in our kingdom do little more than give the country a physical representation. If I expressed how I truly felt all the time, the entire kingdom would feel the repercussions that the emotions of a father can have. I need to remain calm, at least on the outside, lest there be serious problems among the people and media."

"That's very noble of you, but can't be good for your health…"

"It's not," he agreed. Slowly, the king stood up and gripped his wrist. He remained silent, facing away from the messenger toad, until he muttered, "Thank you very much for the good news. You're excused, sir. And would you please bring in Toadsworth?"

The toad bowed low and left the Toadstool king alone, musing by the light of the garden. Soon, Toadsworth entered the room, hobbling quickly over to the king.

"'Ello, siah. I do believe you had something to tell me, eh? What seems to be the bother?"

"I'm going to arrange for a bouquet of fresh, Mushroom Kingdom flowers to be sent to my daughter's hotel room with my well-wishes. Would you like a small note of your own to be included?"

"That would be jolly good, siah, if we knew her whereabouts."

"We do, Toadsworth," the king replied. He ignored his aid's pale-white face and continued, "she's in room 714 of the Hotel Ca' Shygredo."

"And why don't I know about this, your majesty?"

"Perhaps," he explained with a bemused expression, "Because she is my daughter, and not yours. I truly appreciate all your efforts in keeping a close eye on her, but you must begin to relax, good man."

"It would be indefinitely easier to relax if I knew where the little poppet was resting her rump."

"Among friends, Toadsworth, among friends."

"And what of her last week? Where was she?"

"Wherever she was," he offered, "managed to get her back to her friends right on time and in perfect condition and without bragging to the media. Therefore, I hold wherever she was in the greatest of esteem and, when Princess Peach discloses that location, I will personally thank their dignitaries for the respect she was given in her wishes of privacy."

"But…but shouldn't they have bloomin' told-"

"Peach could not enter a country unnoticed. And if she requested privacy, that would include from her own people, as it's near impossible to differentiate between good spies and bad spies, if they're really talented spies. The greatest of esteem, Toadsworth." He tried to mask the persistent questions in his mind, and sat back down in his worn-in chair. "Now, when can I expect that note?"

xxxx0o0o0o0o0o0o0xxxx

Wendy seemed to be in more control of the evening's activities than Bowser, as she led her parade of female attendants down the hallways, giggling and gossiping with Bowser beginning to feel rather out of place, scurrying to keep up in the center.

With a loud bang and a whirl of blue smoke, Kamek appeared in the corridor's middle, scattering the girls as they screamed to avoid running into him. He looked at them somberly, finding Bowser's eye and narrowing his view. "Your majesty, may I have a word?"

"I'm kind of…in the middle of something," Bowser grinned, and all the girls continued to squirm and run into each other around his center.

"Are you aware you're supposed to be in the middle of something different?" Kamek asked, his tongue hot with impatience.

"Ummm…" Bowser paused, looking into his skull for a long-forgotten schedule. "Frankly, I'm not actually aware of much right now."

Kamek sighed and, with a brush of his wand, parted the sea of girls. He stepped over to Bowser as they thumped against the invisible barrier and took his claw. "You have twelve rescheduled meetings, seven that were cancelled and need to be discussed, and seventeen that you just skipped completely in the past week. We have serious damage control to do, and you don't really have time for-"

"Bonding with my only daughter?" Bowser asked, strategically.

Kamek sighed, and pulled him completely out of the circle, letting the girls reform their mob away from Bowser. "Look, sire," he started, much quieter. "Kammy told me about your good news, and I understand that you won't be…productive…at any meetings. And I also understand the need for you to discuss matters with your friends. In this case, your daughter. But sire, the media and government officials are all ready muttering about you being an 'inefficient head-of-state', 'over distracted', and 'stunted by emotions'. If they find out you're rescheduling your rescheduled meetings because you can't think straight-"

"And yet people are okay with all the abandoning of responsibility I go through to have some fun terrorizing other countries and kidnapping Peach?"

"That's easier to justify," Kamek explained, chuckling a bit. For being so love-drunk, Bowser had a clearer head about some things than normal. "Throw in phrases like 'expanding borders', 'handling alliance issues', and 'asserting authority' and the public eats it up."

"Then tell them I'm handling mental health and bonding with my daughter. They love sappy things like that."

"Oh, we're not appeasing the public, sire. We're appeasing the same crowd that mans your excursions into enemy territory. The first meeting you have is with the head of the bob-omb division of the army."

Bowser snarled. Slowly, he muttered, "how late do they go tonight?"

Kamek bubbled with pleasure that Bowser was apparently giving in. "They're scheduled until 11:30, but if you work efficiently, you should be done by 9:30; 10 at the latest."

He groaned. Working efficiently seemed very unlikely, but staying in meetings until 11:30 seemed even worse. He turned to Wendy. "Hey little-miss-Ugly!"

Wendy spun on her heels and put her hands on her hips. "What did you call me, Dad? You expect me to throw you a party with that kind of respect?"

"Yeah I do. And it can't start until 9:30. Because I don't want to see your ugly face in the sunlight at all."

"Well that's just fine," she sneered, "Because if my friends saw yours, they'd all stop talking to me for being related!"

"Because they're disappointed you got your looks from your mother's side of the family, I know. It's just a life-struggle for you, I guess. But every Quasikoopo has their Esmeralda. You'll find yours, someday."

"At least they're easier to find than blind women with no sense of smell, hearing, or taste in men!"

"Actually, princess," Bowser continued, his eyes a little lighter, "I've already found my true love. And she doesn't think I'm bad at all."

Wendy's mob of friends began to giggle again, and Kamek grabbed Bowser's arm. "As endearing as this is, you've got to get going. Sergeant General Commander Bobbison doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Sergeant General Commander? Who gave him that title?"

"You did, sire," Kamek explained.

"Oh," Bowser's eyes popped open. Sternly, he nodded. "That's why it's so good."

As they headed off, Wendy piped up in a lot less of a sarcastic voice, "I'll order pizza, Daddy!"

"Why does she order pizza if there's a full-service kitchen staff invited to her party?" Kamek asked as they began down the hall.

"The pizza-koopa from a few streets down is apparently 'really cute' or something useless like that," Bowser explained. "And she thinks it would be tacky to get him a job in the Palace."

"Well, good luck to her on that," Kamek chuckled. "And good luck to you with Bobbison. Remember, you're supposed to be discussing a pay-rise, due to the low return rate of the bob-omb soldiers, as well as added benefits for purple-heart families."

"They're living bombs," Bowser growled. "You'd think they'd know things might get a little explosive. Low return rate my tail."

"Yes, well, you discuss that with the Sergeant General Commander. Conference Room C17, fourth floor in the third quadrant."

"I never have meetings that far! Might as well be meeting him in Snowman Land."

"I know, sire, but Bobbison is getting on in age, and he's a little…sensitive to the heat from the Palace's core."

"I'm the king, shouldn't the location revolve around me?"

"If you don't mind having your host explode on you, I suppose that would make more respectful sense. However, since I believe you will find it easier in the long run to appease him, if alive and pleased with your 'respect' towards his wishes."

"It'd be easier in the long run if he was blown up anyway," Bowser grumbled.

Kamek looked at him, raising an eyebrow. Bowser rolled his eyes to emphasize that he did honestly understand the situation. With a curt nod, Kamek continued, "I've drawn up a schedule for you." On cue, he rolled a scroll out from his wand. "All your meetings are in locations that align with each other or are held in the same conference room, and you'll end up on the same floor as Wendy's personal gathering room."

Bowser took the schedule and read his extensive list under his breath. "These all look really boring."

"Then try and finish them before it's too late, sire. It'll make everything a lot more entertaining for everyone."

"Could you at least transport me to the room?"

Kamek sighed, "you know teleportation magic is unnecessary in the Palace, and when teleporting others, an extreme waste of my own supply as well as the Palace's, Sire."

"I'm a thirty minute walk away. The koopacars can't get through the hallways on the fourth floor, and maintenance closed all the diagonal elevators three years ago."

"What about the escalators?" Bowser snorted smoke out his nostrils, glaring at Kamek with even more heat in his eyes. "Okay, okay!" the magikoopa appeased, putting his wrinkled hands up to block Bowser's gaze. "But don't expect me to make a habit out of it."

"Kammy never complains like this, toady."

Without a proper response, Kamek conjured a blue cloud of smoke around his King's body, and with a bang similar to the one that scattered the group of girls, the hallway was empty.

Well, nearly. Kammy had been watching around the corner, and she sauntered over to Kamek with a twinkle in her eye. "What do I not complain about?"

"Wasting magic on Bowser's pointless whims," he answered.

She looped her arm through his and rolled her eyes. "That's just because I was trying to get on his good side. Don't really need to anymore."

"Because you have me?" Kamek supplied, grinning at her mischievously.

"Not quite. None of your sides are any good." Her eyes twinkled. "So now I have to spend my efforts trying to make you presentable to have on my arm."

"Lady, it would take a lot more than your own efforts to make me ugly enough to resemble any of the warts already on your arm."

"I don't have any warts on my arm, except you!" She snapped. "My warts are all…elsewhere." Kamek flashed a knowing grin at her. Moving on, she said, "How was Lord Bowser, anyway?"

"Aww, we're not going to discuss your countless physical imperfections?"

"Not in present company," she snarled, pointing her wand at a tapestry. It sounded a faint pop, and several boos zoomed away, cackling at their mischief. "You too, pipsqueaks." Dramatically, two twin mousers threw back the tapestry and marched off.

Kamek rolled his eyes. Surely their new form of relationship had become less than hot-topic, but then again, the castle was still buzzing about Roy's brief relationship with that Birdo model from months before. "Bowser was better than I expected."

"Really?" She asked in disbelief. "I told you he almost broke my ribs in his merriment, didn't I?"

"Like I'd believe an old hag like you," Kamek retorted. "The love of his life just left for a romantic getaway with her supposed boyfriend. Surely that would have sunken in by now."

"Not when you're in as deep as Bowser," she said, dreamily. "He's so used to being hardcore all the time that I'm not surprised he's finding things to be upset about. But I'm positive that if he thinks of Peach, all he'll be able to think of right now is joy.

"He's waited his whole life for her to kiss him. And his whole life he's had her literally torn from his claws and willingly go off with her 'supposed boyfriend', as you call him. This is therefore better than normal. It's the same set-up, with a few major differences. One- she actually told him she didn't want to leave. And two- she expressed romantic interest in him."

Kamek was quiet for a bit, before asking in a high-pitched voice, "How do you know all this?"

"I got very good at figuring Lord Bowser out and knowing things about him I probably shouldn't. It hasn't turned off quite yet."

He chuckled. "Are you going to get all stalker and omnipotent about me, now?"

"Good Koopa, I hope not. I can hardly stand to see you when I have to," she said with a disgusted face.

"The feeling's mutual, freakazoid." They rounded a corner into a vacant office and, after Kammy confirmed it was completely vacant, the door slammed shut.

Author's Note: So I was just going through previous A/N's and realized a little while ago I said I was doing research on Vienna. In case you haven't noticed and for some reason still remember, Grand Canal is not related to Vienna at all. It's related to Venice. So sorry about that little accident. And speaking of such, for those of you interested, the Ca' Shygredo is inspired by the Ca' Sagredo, a freakishly beautiful five-star hotel in VENICE. Not Vienna.

And again, I would like to apologize for this disgusing hiatus. Yesterday was my last day of high school, and as I don't have any summer classes or homework this year, I should have plenty of time to write and post updates on TIME. So thank you very, very much the few of you who haven't abandoned us yet. There's plenty to come. :)

-Razzi