Basil, Limes, and a Touch of Blueberries
By AAR
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to its rightful owners
When the idea of having a universal tournament began, it was a fantasy for the Hands. The endless boundaries of their power could handle creating a world for the contestants, but the likely problems of the fighters' prejudices and rivalries came up often. Plus, there were the usual problems of, 'Oh I can't come because my country decided to have a civil war. Maybe in a few decades, I'll let my daughter come.' Or, 'I can't come. I need to kill a few things so I can have some money.'
So the Hands decided they would make carbon copies of the destined contestants. It worked, a little too well. The copies retained their memories, personalities, grudges, etc. But they had no worries about being caught up in a war, or family problems. During these tournaments, the fighters allied with each other, and bonded into a very tight family.
Months passed when Crazy Hand had a whim to create carbon copies of the Assist Trophies for their misfit family. A few years passed, and Master Hand decided that the population was too low, and combined his and Crazy's powers to make replicas of the stickers and other trophies, minus the obvious Subspace creations and those evil, evil bosses…
Needless to say, the very large family grew tighter, and within a decade after the tournaments ended, settled down…
It was quiet inside your small house you shared with your friend, except for the occasional noises in the kitchen. You sat outside the door to said kitchen, worrying what on sweet earth could be going in there. You twisted a lock of green hair around a dainty, pale finger and your blue-green eyes flickered to the wooden door every so often.
Banging noises that sounded oddly like your friend slamming the freezer shut permeated the atmosphere. Flinching a little, you attempt to distract yourself by looking out a window to see a bright blue sky with only a few white clouds. Idyllic green grass covered the hills, and you spotted Snake and Samus taking a small stroll.
She (finally) had let her hair down; blonde tresses that were being blown away from the gentle wind.
An exclamation of happiness catches your attention, and you swivel your head (like an owl, your head observes) to face a very happy thirty year old man. His spiky blue hair was a shade darker than his eyes and was, amusingly, in a hair net. He held a porcelain plate in one hand, the other one pulling the net from his hair quickly.
Ike Greil. You would've never thought you would fall for this man in your years as a copy. He grins at you, a smile full of warmth and general happiness.
He places the plate next to you, on a glass coffee table. It has a simple scoop of vanilla ice in the middle, basil leaves, a slice of lime, and blueberries tastefully decorating it. Two spoons are placed on each side, and he sits down on his own chair, looking outside the window. He is content, you can plainly see, with your platonic relationship with him.
Inwardly, you sigh at whatever deity higher in rank than the real you created men to have thick skulls and a general obliviousness to women.
You pick up your own spoon, and note that you never realized you and he owned such small utensils. He awkwardly laughs it off, and picks up his own spoon, waiting for you to take the first bite. Scooping up a small amount of ice cream and mischievously placing a blueberry in the middle (it is slightly perverse you made his dessert look like a part of women anatomy, your morals observe.)
Placing it in your mouth, you are surprised that Ike can actually make a delicious dessert. Most of his attempts turned out horrifically disgusting; you once proclaimed his final try at creating crème brulee worse than his first. Slowly tasting it, you are shocked that this isn't really vanilla ice cream.
It tastes like alcohol. Raising your eyes to his mirthful ones, you chew the blueberry before swallowing Ike's concoction.
He takes his own spoonful, laughing at you teasingly. Eating the spoonful far more quickly than you, he impishly takes another one. You laugh with him, taking your own spoon again to eat the ice cream.
Playfully, you pick up one of the slices (it is unsurprising that you thought the slices of lime was one; Ike was very skillful at cutting things) of lime and flick it at Ike's face.
It is an enigma how Palutena finds the desert tasteful.
You imagine she eats it with delight just for Ike's sake though. Then again, when she ate his crème brulee, she had commented how horrible it tasted. Perhaps she had really odd taste…It is the most likely.
You absentmindedly brush back your golden hair into its usual strict ponytail when you feel a familiar warm hand push the rubber band away. Mock glaring at his blue-gray eyes, he smiles at you in a heart breaking way; you can't help but crack a smile at his antics.
Snake asks if you've tried it the way Palutena did, and you violently shake your head no. Even though you're a little crazy, you wouldn't make a simple dessert into a piece of female anatomy. He snickers at your answer. He takes a bite of the ice cream, and he raises an eyebrow at the unusual flavor. You couldn't keep back a little giggle. You get up from your seat and lean against the wall to stop the girly laughter.
In retaliation, Snake childishly sticks his tongue at you.
Personalities had grown and changed throughout the years, you noted hazily. You laughed more often, and Snake is far more open with the big 'family.'
In the back of your head, you thank the Hands for making all this possible.
Palutena gleefully laughed at your surprised face.
Who wouldn't be surprised, after being pelted with a thin slice of lime?
You smiled anyways, a devious grin planning for revenge. Putting the offensive slice of lime on your spoon, you initiate your plan. Faster than she could see, you picked up the other slice of lime, and throw it directly on her spoon. You weren't quite sure the result of such a blend, but it was amusing to see her eyes pop wide open at the taste.
Snickering, you ask how it tastes, and she replies that it was the best thing she's tasted so far.
You fall off of your chair in stunned dismay.
She insists you try it, and for her sake, you do. A scoop of ice cream, a blueberry, and your slice of lime cover it. Apprehensively, you stuff it in your mouth, and then politely get a napkin to spit the lime out.
You somehow miss the fact that Palutena had made the slice of lime in her mouth disappear instead of spitting it out like you.
It is an enigma how she finds this blend tasteful.
I couldn't resist using second person. In order, Palutena, Samus, then Ike. I was contemplating whether or not to use Snake, but I realized that it could very well make the main couple fade away. Still, can't resist not putting Snakus in. I have no idea what the dessert tastes like, and I certainly have no clue what a lime tastes like. I've smelled it though.
The idea of using a copy comes from another author (for the love of me, I can't remember, but I remember she did a Samus and Ike pairing in her story) so just say or PM me if I did take it and I will give credit (or take the story down) to whoever tells me.
I stuck with no dialogue though. I guess that Romance Contest thing stuck with me. Hope you like this! -AAR