A/N: Hello lovely people! I'm starting to think of how I can wrap up the plot. After this story is over, I am going to start to write a story for the Twilight archive. Don't panic, I'll still write for Kirby in the future, maybe even some Mystery Dungeon. I'm so excited for Pokemon Heart Gold and Soul Silver! Johto was my fave region. Oh and Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Sky!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Kirby anime

Wrenching upright, the familiar sway of vertigo hit me. Mac was in a sleeping bag on the floor, her cobalt-purple eyes showing anxiety and concern. I shook my head at her, and then proceeded to bow my head. Understanding my somber mood, she got up and put her arm around my shoulders.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Underneath her bitingly sarcastic, rugged attitude, Mac had deep compassion for her close confidents.

"No thanks, it was just a dream," I stated nonchalantly.

"Just a dream? You were crying out all night. You never sleep talk. Mostly it had things like 'help' and 'get the hands away from me' and my favorite: 'take the stalker instead!'." Mac chuckled, her usual lightheartedness returning to her eyes.

"Well, I think I had this dream before—but I couldn't remember it. It was the night I found Meta Knight. I woke up sweating and I felt like I just witnessed a murder." Mac raised her eyebrows, and then her face scrunched in concentration.

"You know, sometimes dreams are warnings our subconscious throws at us. Your conscience must be telling you something," Her face and eyes had a brooding look.

I rolled my eyes. "Come on, Mac. I'm a kid; I don't have voices in my head nagging me to do something that my life depends on."

"Everybody's different. People have intuitions, or gut feelings, that I think fuels your conscience to decipher right and wrong. Your mind doesn't necessarily need to tell you what to do; it just needs to get the point across. These dreams are most likely driven by your unknown intuition." She finished simply. This was the most insightful I've ever seen Mac. Ever. She is very smart, in a way, but doesn't prefer to show it.

"Good point."

Kirby was outside training with Meta Knight. Where he got a sword, I will never know. The gashes were still in the ground—we would have to work on that. Mac went to see more training while I just stayed on the porch. I was probably a mess; the sun was harsh on my bleary eyes, which made them squinty. My hair was also tangled and frizzy. I was never a morning person. Mac, on the other hand, was very alert, not to mention a light sleeper.

I was staring at my shoes when footsteps lightly tapped the ground. I looked up to see Carter.

"Good morning Vivian," he said pleasantly to me. I nodded and awkwardly waved at him. He smiled a smile that didn't expose any teeth. Out of politeness, I smiled back. "Are there any monsters to slay today?"

"No, not at the moment. Meta Knight's training Kirby to be a master-swordsman." I pictured Kirby in a mask and cape. An amused, but proud smile broke across my face. It was really cool to meet the universe's destined hero—and watch him grow up. Kirby is only a child, after all.

"You seem proud of him; like he's your own child. You never struck me as the motherly type." I blushed for the second time in my life. This kid saw right through me, which made me feel irksome and flattered at the same time, creating a nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach.

The nausea and morning fatigue didn't do wonders for my usually adequate coordination so, naturally, I fell.

"Vi, are you all right?" I wanted to groan at Carter's worry; I only tripped for Pete's sake. At the same time, it was sweet to see him so concerned for me, giving me the sick-yet-pleasant feeling again.

"Yeah, I'm not usually a klutz. The morning's taken its toll on me. I'll be fine."

He wrapped his arm around my waist, heaving me to my feet. He steadied me, the effort wasted; I stumbled again, only to be caught in a slightly uncomfortable embrace. I, ugh, blushed again. I heard a few laughs. My head snapped up to see a pink-eyed Meta Knight, a slightly confused Kirby, and a smirking Mac that I had an undeniable urge to smack.

I looked up to the subtly flushed, miffed face of Carter. He met my eyes and immediately released me, only to make me totter a bit more. I grabbed a chair for support, which made the group laugh harder.

"Sorry," Carter murmured. His tone was sharp and mortified, but I saw amusement spark in his dark eyes.

"It's fine," I said, suddenly interested in the ground.

"No, it's not fine. I bothered you, I'm sorry," He said it so quietly, I wasn't even sure if anyone but me heard him "I think you should sit down, we don't want to bring an ambulance to a house full of alien activity." He said rather softly. I was seething a bit at the ambulance comment, I was not clumsy.

"I think I will!" I spat and plopped into the chair. This childish action caused the people surrounding me to gain mirth. I mentally scolded myself; I shouldn't let this no-good kid get the best of me. It was stupid and petty.

I pushed my momentary humiliation away as Kirby jumped on my lap. Everyone seemed to shift their attention away from me. I was grateful to be out of the limelight. Well, just for a short time—my gut told me these little encounters were going to occur again. Ugh.

"Don't you think we should fix the yard? I mean, it's impossible to blame this on Charlie—even if he had managed to break down the door, chew the tire off your bike, and put a hole in the wall."

Mac had a point. How are we going to…? Clean! I had a sudden epiphany.

"Hey Mac, don't you think Kirby's clean ability can fix the gashes?" Mac deliberated that for a minute.

"Yeah, it could probably work. Hey Meta Knight is it safe for Kirby to eat Clorox?" He rolled his eyes.

"If it isn't safe for your species to ingest this Clorox—whatever that is—then I would not risk it with Kirby."

"Maybe a broomstick then," Mac suggested.

"I do not see the damage a broomstick would do; Kirby's able to digest worse." We nodded simultaneously, remembering when Kirby nearly ate my mom's strawberry-shaped cutting board.

I got our spare broomstick out of the garage. I handed the broom to Mac as she got a wicked glint in her eye that I learned to be intensely afraid of. Well, she sort of shoved the broom in Kirby's mouth. Much to my relief, he swallowed and the bright light appeared again. Kirby was now sporting a bandana and broomstick—today's adjective: adorable.

"Alrighty, Kirbs. Let's go make the yard look like it was vandalized instead of mauled by aliens," Mac—after an obvious glance between me and the jerk-stalker-kid—cheerfully loped towards the scene of the crash, Kirby in tow.

Instinct started to take him over again. He started to sweep the upraised earth, dust swirling everywhere. In place of the dust came ribbons of bare ground.

Mac kept throwing glances between me and the kid. I realized she knows something. Something she is purposefully keeping from me. Anger started to boil inside me. She. Is. So. Dead! I knew what it was about; I'm not a complete moron. When did Mackenzie decide to become matchmaker?

I have to worry about it later. For now all that matters is keeping Kirby and Meta Knight's existence a secret. I could possibly break his heart later. That would suck; I can't live with that on my conscience. There is no solution—or point—in attraction. Being a thirteen year-old is difficult.

Your conscience: Knock knock! It's your conscience speaking. I will nag you if ya don't review; we both know it's the right thing to do.

Me: PRESS THE GREEN BUTTON OR I WILL HELP CONSCIENCE NAG YOU!