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Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Mario or its franchise; it belongs to the Mushroom Kingdom. Lol, technically it belongs to Nintendo but...we all know they have time shares in the Mushroom Kingdom so yeah :)

Chapter Six

I don't think I've ever seen Daisy so excited as this afternoon. She was practically glowing behind that thousand-watt smile: today she'd gotten a job. I couldn't really share in her enthusiasm, not all the way. I was still kinda worried about her. Even though it was a day job with only fifteen hours a week, I was still concerned for her. She would have to be at this place without me, in a city that she wasn't familiar with. Places got robbed and people got shot, I hear it on the news all the time. I really don't know how I'd deal if anything were to happen to her.

She's a grown woman, I reasoned, twenty-three years old and highly capable of defending herself. She's intelligent and resourceful, she can handle being on her own. She did have to move from Sarasaland to the Mushroom Kingdom, so I know she's adaptive.

"Luigi?"

I glanced down at her with a brow raised in question. She sat at the desk in her future employer's office in the back of the store.

"What's your address?" She wanted to know.

I told her what it was and looked over her shoulder as she copied the information down onto the white paper form in front of her. She didn't have much to fill out since she didn't have any traceable work history or contactable references. Forget about a decent resume; the girl was like a young teenager fresh into the working world. Finding someone to hire would be sort of hard, unless she happened upon some owner looking for a pretty face to model but that was hardly something that interested Daisy. She was more of a hands on, interpersonal kind of girl. That's why I decided to call in a favor from an old friend of my brother's.

Mr. Lestrange was the private owner of a shoe store, one that branched off of a bigger chain centralized in Compton, California. It was a decent place, geared more towards women, and from what I heard it paid fairly well. About the favor; well, not once or twice or even three or four times, but five times Mr. Lestrange's house flooded over the course of a couple years. The source was a busted pipe that could have been taken care of in one go but every time his house would flood, he would run to Scapelli's solely on the basis of their big name. All they were doing was just fixing the problem temporarily, employing a tactic that would ensure Mr. Lestrange would have to call them back again after some time; they were making a killing off of him and others with the underhanded practice. It was after the fifth incident that Lestrange finally took a chance on me and my brother. After we got in there and did our thing, he had no more issues. He's been begging for a way to pay us back ever since, claiming that our rate was too cheap for him and his conscience to be satisfied. Mario always said, 'easy pay for an easy job' and refused to take any other reward, but if Daisy really wanted to work, I felt like this would be the safest and most convenient environment for her.

"I'm finished," She announced, glancing first at me and then at Mr. Lestrange.

Despite his odd name and even odder curled mustache, Mr. Lestrange was a good man. I knew I wouldn't have to worry about him making a move on her, or trying to get over on her. She handed him her application and he barely glanced over it.

"Thank you," Mr. Lestrange smiled, "As I said, this is just for formalities' sake; I need to have something on file for you just in case something were to happen."

"Not that anything would happen, right?" I stated with a cocked brow.

"Right." Mr. Lestrange nodded. "Everything is in order for you to begin working, Miss Daisy. All you must do now is pick up a uniform; the young woman at the front desk can help you with that."

"Alright." Daisy grinned.

She made for the office door and so did I, but then I stopped. I turned to the man that was settling in behind his desk, shuffling some paperwork and leaning forward in his rolling chair and peering over some files.

"Mr. Lestrange?" I spoke quietly.

"Yeah, kid?"

"Thanks." I said, "Thanks for this. It really uh, means a lot."

Mr. Lestrange was silent. Then, "Thank you, Luigi. You and your brother did more than just fix an old busted pipe. You kinda' restored my faith in the folks down here in Brooklyn."

That's right, Lestrange was from California. It did make me feel a little better to know he realized not everybody in Brooklyn were as shady as that company. I shrugged, though, and smiled sheepishly.

"It was really all Mario in that instance," I admitted.

Lestrange said, "And how is your brother?"

"He's been uh," I struggled for the right words, then settled on, "he's been good. He's getting married soon."

"Oh is that so?" Lestrange beamed pleasantly. "Where is he?"

"He moved to another country," I explained, "His wife is ah, foreign."

"I see." Lestrange nodded. His smile turned wry when he said, "I see you're following in his footsteps."

"Huh?"

"That young woman is quite lovely, and charming too." He observed, "A good match for you, I'd say."

"Yeah," I said in response. "She's uh. She's..."

How could I put everything that I loved about that girl into words? She was perfection to me. There was no other way to describe her. And speaking of her, she came back into the office with her uniform hugged against her chest.

"Thanks so much for this," She said to Lestrange, "I can't wait to start!"

"I'm afraid you'll have to," Lestrange stated, "I have to get your information into the system and that'll take about a day or two. How 'bout you come in next week?"

"Cool," Daisy replied.

I nodded to the man and led Daisy out of the office, out of the large store and back outside where my car was parked. I glanced at her uniform and noticed it was a dress. A black one with a green shirt folded under it as well.

"Thank you, too, Luigi." Daisy said after she got into the car.

"No problem," I said easily.

Before I could start the engine, she leaned over and kissed my cheek. Her mouth was soft, her lips pushed right against the corner of my own. I turned towards her and kissed her full on.

"You have to go back to work before me," She predicted.

I watched her buckle herself in and nodded.

"You'll be at the apartment alone," I told her, not for the first time asking, "You'll be okay, right?"

"Yup." She answered, "I'll probably just watch tv 'til you get home."

"No, you don't have to wait up for me," I said, "I get off pretty late."

Too late than I was now comfortable with. I was dreading leaving this girl because every moment away gave my mind invitation to conjure up every possible scenario that could go on without me there with her. I guess I'll just have to get used to this, though, otherwise I'd smother the girl with too much attention. I didn't want to be overbearing, but I couldn't stop worrying about her. She was the greatest good in my life and I didn't want to lose her.

I don't really need these things, my eyes. Not really. They're more trouble than they're worth to be honest. Being blind won't be so bad. I could manage. Lots of great men have triumphed over blindness, why can't I? Plucking them out would be easy, just a clean scoop to each one and the deed is done.

His emerald eyes were closed as he contemplated this gruesome act of self-mutilation with relative ease. That is, as much ease as one could muster under the circumstances. His head was yet pounding, his stomach most often rejected every attempt he made at filling it, and his jaw was painfully locked up. He could hardly move it around so speaking and eating were laborious tasks. And of course his eyes; the pain had spread to his eyes now and that was something he just couldn't deal with. His eyes were probably his most valuable organs, next to his skin and heart and lungs. He knew without them he wouldn't be the keen, perceptive creature he was to this day but they were hurting him so badly that he truly entertained the thought of ripping them right out of their sockets.

Ticking.

Something was ticking. Ludwig opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was the pile of papers in front of him on the desk he'd moved into his closet of an office. His throbbing eyes roved over the rest of the desk and caught sight of the clock standing near the corner of the wall.

When did that get there? He frowned as he failed to recall ever seeing it before. His mind was foggy and it hurt to think.

"What is going on?" he muttered to himself.

The closet used to be quiet and conducive to productive behavior but now it seemed too small, too dark and too stifling. With a sigh that taxed his stomach muscles Ludwig stood shakily and grabbed his reed pen and his paperwork. He moved from the closet and asserted his magic vectors over the major areas of pain. By the time he got close to the kitchens, he'd managed to force the blind spots from his eyes and the shooting pinpricks from the back of his skull. His efforts hardly gained him much relief but it was all he could do at the moment.

Once he got inside the empty kitchens he strode over to one of the tables and promptly swept the dishes and utensils atop it onto the floor. He slapped his paperwork onto the counter-top and laid his palms flat on either side of the stack. The kitchen staff doubled as palace hands so they were out around the castle, minding their chores. This room was empty, quiet. He could think here, right?

Apparently not.

As Ludwig read over the prospective notes of legislature, he had to keep blinking every five seconds because his eyes would get dry and itchy. Then his vision began to blur and he found himself reading the same line over and over again. He couldn't concentrate, not even in a place of absolute solitude. Wait a minute.

Mumbling.

He heard it, soft and frustrated little grumbles and weak growls coming from his far right. Ludwig turned his aching head slowly in that direction and saw what he'd neglected to notice when he first stormed into the room: the munchkins. Lemmy was sitting at that small table across from Bowser Junior, who was the source of the noise. While his brother was messing around with some white dough, stained black in some areas from his grubby little hands, Bowser Junior sat with his hands clasped in his lap. His head was bowed, giving the elder royal a view of his tangled red hair and two stubby little ivory horns. The boy's mouth was moving every now and again, but his words were hushed and indecipherable. Just the thing to irritate the navy-haired young man.

"Be quiet." Ludwig ordered in a voice somewhat more gentle than usual as of late.

Both children snapped their heads over to Ludwig and blinked owlishly, as if he were speaking French or something. A moment passed where Ludwig was satisfied his message had been conveyed and then he turned back to his work. His eyes, they stung and burned the longer he kept them open but he was nothing if not perseverant, which was really his way of labeling his own stubbornness. He strained to make out the tiny script on the parchment and then, some minutes later, slammed his hands down onto the counter and rounded on the children.

"Won't you cut that muttering out?" He snapped.

Bowser Junior started, his eyes widening a bit upon being yelled at. He caught control of his quivering lip quickly, though, and just bowed his head again. Only this time he was silent, his red lips pursed tightly. Lemmy witnessed this and, never being one to tolerate any semblance of bullying or unfairness, was moved to respond. He faced his brother without an ounce of deliberation and raised a brow.

"Lu, you shouldn't yell at B-Jun," He spoke softly, "He not even muttering. He was talking to his..."

Junior's head had shot up then, and very fearfully he shook his head twice at his best friend. Lemmy had seen the gesture and thus trailed off, mildly piquing Ludwig's interest.

"Talking to who?" Ludwig asked with a ghost of a smirk, "His imaginary friend?"

Bowser Junior's face slated off once more but Lemmy looked torn; he couldn't decide if he should leave his older brother to his mocking, being none the wiser of the truth, or defend his best friend once more and perhaps risk spilling something incriminating. He knew not of that particular word, but he was precocious enough to know that there would be bad consequences if Ludwig found out about Junior's paternal communication. So he stayed silent with a disturbingly grave face for a seven year old.

Ludwig, sobering from that brief bit of humor at the young prince's expense, frowned and left his work. He crossed the kitchen and came towards the little boys. Pulling up a third chair that was much too tiny for Larry or Iggy, let alone him and his nineteen-year-old self, Ludwig collapsed into the wooden thing with his legs sprawled. He tossed his head back and shut his eyes, then drove the heels of his palms into his sockets.

Relief. Fleeting relief, he sighed.

Bowser Junior lifted his head once more at the ex-enforcers arrival to their personal corner. He glanced at Ludwig warily, then mouthed something to Lemmy, who mouthed something back, and so on until the older child reached a conclusive plan of action. He at first cleared his throat and then, when that garnered no attention, tapped lightly on his brother's stomach. Ludwig cringed and made a humming sound of acknowledgement.

Very bluntly Lemmy told him, "You can't sit with us."

Now Ludwig cracked open his emerald eyes and leveled an impatient glance at his sibling.

"What?" He frowned.

"You can't sit with us." Lemmy repeated frankly.

"And why not?" The weary ruler inquired, mildly intrigued that his own brother was ousting him from their diminutive domain.

Lemmy explained cryptically, "Because, um, because he don't like you."

"Who?"

Lemmy cast a wavering glance at Bowser Junior who, blank-faced, shook his head almost imperceptibly. Ludwig took their tacit communication to mean it was the former Crown Prince who called for his departure and scoffed softly to himself. He could understand why he wouldn't be the brat's favorite person in the world.

"Hey Iggs, how 'bout we make some-Whoa!" Larry's voice cut in loudly.

He and his thirteen year old brother came striding into the kitchen, rooting around for something to eat. When Larry saw his older brother slumped in the too-small chair, he'd nearly laughed, thinking the ex-enforcer had been guilted into some long-overdue playtime with his youngest sibling. But then Larry caught sight of Ludwig's red-rimmed eyes and dour scowl and frowned.

"Whoa," Larry breathed again, "You don't look so good."

Ludwig just frowned.

Iggy was staring at his oldest brother with a strange, observant expression but said nothing.

"Are you getting sick?" Larry wanted to know.

"Don't worry about it." Ludwig said dismissively.

He came up to his brother until his knees were level with Ludwig's nose. Ludwig could sense him there but had his eyes shut again. Gazing in confusion at him, Larry reached down and laid the back of his hand over his brother's pale forehead. Sweaty, clammy, cold; he felt these things and was worried.

"Maybe you should call a doctor." Larry suggested. "That's what I told Wen."

Ludwig rolled his eyes and immediately regretted it, for it was a painful thing to do now. He knitted his brow and bent over his knees, cradling his head.

"And where is your sister?" He asked with a stiff jaw.

"She's um, out." Larry stated evasively.

"Is Roy or Morton with her?" Ludwig asked.

He would have preferred both.

Larry said, "Roy's with her."

Ludwig took solace in that. Pig-headed and rash as his brother was, Roy shared in his dislike of that little punk Wendy was so keen on seeing. If Roy was with her, Ludwig knew she wouldn't get up to any trouble where the inn-keeper's son was concerned.

Good, Ludwig mused, one less thing I have to worry about.

Like a red nose

Li-Li-Li-Li-Like a red nose

Like a red nose

Like a red

Like a red

Like a red nose

It had to be the music. No way could those meaningless, base lyrics entrance her to the point of stealing her focus completely. Her attention was hopelessly undivided and her eyes, light and hooded, were glued to the television screen as the music video played out. She wasn't too fond of the dance, either. It was primeval, lusty and scandalous. She couldn't picture herself or any self-respecting female to actually bend over with her posterior right against some man's groin while she ground and gyrated her hips seductively.

But that music, Daisy frowned, I've never heard anything like that before. It's so...

Hypnotic. Entrancing. The tv volume was pretty high, but Daisy slowly stood, remote in hand, and turned it up even louder. She couldn't be bothered to worry about her neighbors and Luigi wasn't home right then, he was at work. She had the apartment to herself for the night. She could do what she wanted, and what she wanted to do right about then was dance. The music, it was contagious, it made her feel hot and feverish inside, like she just had to move. The song's lilting bass-line penetrated her ears and pulsed in time with her heartbeat. A nervous smile twitched along her mouth as she rose in the dark living room.

Her hands and bare feet were sweaty; she'd had this anticipation before, whenever she was trying something new for the first time. Granted, this was a lot different than horseback riding or jumping into battle, but the sensations were the same. As the song droned on, she summoned that boldness and moved her hips in the same way that the girl was doing in the video. Her movements were more chaste and less exaggerated than the girl's on tv's were though.

Very soon Daisy found the appeal in the way those girls were dancing. As her body moved with the beat of the song, slowly and rhythmically, her smile grew. Part of her felt silly, convinced she wasn't correctly performing the moves she'd previously criticized. Part of her also felt...good?

Sexy? she chanced, but only in her head.

She sank to the floor then and laughed to herself. Her body felt tingly and buzzed, like she'd gotten a shot of electricity.

"That's enough of that," She smirked, turning the station.

The further she got from that channel, the more her excited vibe began to tone down. She knew she was something of a hypocrite for scorning the girls in that music video, but she now knew why they danced that way. The music encouraged those movements; deep base and smooth dancing went hand in hand. But in the back of her mind she had a feeling that probably wasn't the best program on television to watch.

Daisy crossed her legs and scratched the top of her head idly, loosening her high ponytail. She had a good amount of hours left until Luigi returned. She'd already bathed and eaten, so there wasn't much left for her to do other than watch tv. She hadn't found any books around and wasn't totally comfortable with digging through Luigi's things to finds any. So tv it was. Only there wasn't much to watch.

"So many channels," She mused quietly, "but not much to watch."

She flipped through unsavory cartoon shows, confusing 'reality' programs, and low-budget science fiction movies. A horror film was playing but she quickly turned the channel.

I think I've had enough horror for one lifetime, she shuddered.

It was hardly any surprise when she found herself back on that music channel. There was another video playing, one starring a very...unusually dressed woman. With skin as pale as the moon itself, startlingly-wide eyes and short, candy-pink hair. Her outfit was something to behold, for it looked more like a confection than a garment, as did the setting of her video. There were peppermints and gumdrops all around, mixed with an unhealthy dose of innuendo. Another video played, this one featuring another woman with light brown skin and fiery red hair. The video was just as odd as the first, taking place in a grocery store of sorts, much like the one she and Luigi went to. Her outfit was more revealing than the last girl's, and her striped suspender shorts and cut-off shirt underneath didn't even match. Daisy could barely comprehend the way these young women presented themselves because, from what she'd seen around Brooklyn, not everyone dressed like that.

Maybe these people are of a different class than everyone else, she mused.

Whatever class they were apart of, it must've allowed for their individuality to bloom. She didn't agree with all the singers' styles, but she could say she hadn't seen anything like it ever before. She also hadn't heard of any instrument that would make such strange noises, either. And though not all of the videos featured dancers, the ones that did never failed to make her color violently. She was embarrassed for some of the women. Not only was everything out and showing, but they made a point of making sure their, ah, assets garnered as much attention as possible.

Definitely something I probably shouldn't be watching, she smiled to herself, I wonder what Luigi would say if he saw me watching this.

Daisy laughed at the thought.

This was perhaps her favorite among all of the channels, and her favorite songs were the ones that had that thumping bass. It was impossible to listen and appreciate the words without hearing some things that made her cringe though. That was the only thing she didn't like about those songs; the lyrics were most often poor, or all-out disrespectful and derogatory. She knew she could only get a handful of the references while the others were going over her head, but she understood enough to know that this wasn't the best type of music.

If I could just get the music, without all the words, she frowned.

She left it on that channel anyway, though, knowing it was bad to watch but unable to resist staring at the dancers and their bodies, unable to turn down that exotic bass. She vowed not to tell or let on to anyone that she was into this, really into it, deeming this to be her very first dirty secret.

They were both worried; she for his health and he for her safety. Neither were really justified, considering all that they'd been through, but their concern was only natural between two soon-to-be married people. Peach saw the man she loved as just that; a man, not a marvel. He wasn't superhuman although he was sometimes treated that way. He had a heart that bled just like everyone else, and she really thought he ought not push himself so much. He had only healed from his serious injuries a little while ago, she didn't think he should already be straining his body by coming on this trip so soon. But he could hardly be dissuaded; if she was going then he definitely was, too. He didn't want to ever lose her again. Neither of them could see, for all their worrying, how the other had grown since their ordeal. Mario, already strong and brave, had grown a lot mentally and knew his limits, one of the true signs of a great warrior. His fiancee, Peach, had also become resilient and fearless in most respects. She refused to take a backseat when it came to the goings on in her kingdom anymore. She also wore pants more often, much to his appreciation.

She was wearing a pair now, some light-colored jeans. She was fond of those. She also had on a white blouse and a silk pink cloak with white boots. She was no less beautiful, but she was a bit less dainty and fragile. She rode her white horse just as skillfully as Mario did his next to her. Soon they arrived at their destination: the palace near the Black Forest, home to the former Dark King. They rode right up to the front doors and waited for someone to let them in.

"A messenger," Mario noticed far off.

When the Koopa reached them, the couple tensed, having recalled their caustic dealings with the creatures in the past. If the Koopa noticed how he was received, he made no outward sign of it.

"His highness would have me inform you that your meeting has been postponed." The creature stated.

"Postponed?" Mario echoed. "What for?"

"His Majesty would have you return at this time tomorrow." The Koopa spoke, as if he hadn't heard the plumber's question.

Mario was mildly irritated. "This is real last-minute, don't ya' think?"

He was put out until he noticed the doors to the palace were cracked, open just enough for him to catch a blur of blue hair from beyond them. He heard a crash, like glass breaking, and then a loud, frustrated sigh and then heard Ludwig's voice; he was cussing someone out by the sound of it.

On second thought, Mario thought, I'd better not press it. What's another day?

"Did you hear me, Mario?" Peach was asking him.

The Koopa was gone, having left while the prince of the Mushroom Kingdom was preoccupied. Mario turned to his fiancee and smiled gently.

"What was that?" He chuckled.

She shook her tilted head with a faint smile and said, "I asked if you wanted to stay at an inn for the rest of the day?"

"Yeah, sounds good." He nodded.

Neither one of them mounted their horses, choosing instead to walk to the city beyond the palace instead. While they walked, Peach shed her heavy cloak and tied up her thick blonde hair in lieu of the warm weather, tying her locks in a loose knot at the top of her head. Mario took off his black cape and stretched his arms. He'd already dressed coolly in light pants and a cotton shirt.

"To say we're making peace with the Badlands," Mario quipped, "That boy doesn't seem too peaceful."

"He's probably just stressed," Peach reasoned, "He's not even twenty, I've heard, quite young to be king. He has a lot on his plate."

Mario snorted and said, "It's his own fault. No one told the kid to take over the Badlands."

"I think it's a noble ambition," Peach argued whimsically, "He's good for wanting to make something of that doomed land."

"If you say so," Mario shrugged.

The two reached an inn, one that looked moderately expensive, and saw that its shutters were all drawn. There was no one attending it, so the royals assumed it to be closed.

"Or maybe the owner's off-duty," Mario thought. He said, "I'll go and check around for someone to help us. Stay here in case someone comes while I'm gone."

"Alright." Peach said, taking a seat on one of the benches along the side of the inn.

She kept her eyes on Mario until he was lost to the crowd, then faced forward again. She didn't see the flags, the ones that were so prevalent before, the ones with his insignia. She pursed her lips.

Bowser, she thought, I'm not afraid to say his name. He doesn't deserve to be feared, he's gone now. It's not as if he can hurt me or anyone else anymore.

"Hey beautiful," someone greeted.

Before Peach could look up, someone was kissing her cheek gently and it wasn't Mario. Glancing at the culprit, she saw a slight young man with dark hair and soft features.

"Excuse me?" She cocked a brow.

Upon realizing his mistake, the boy blushed and blinked, looking embarrassed.

"Oh, uh, sorry," He stammered, "I thought you were someone else."

Peach smiled empathetically and said, "It's alright. Who are you?"

He held out his hand and said, "Munson Chauvin, and you are?"

"Peach Toadstool, Princess of the Mushroom Kingdom." She reluctantly revealed.

"Royalty," He murmured, impressed, "You've come a long way."

"Indeed," She nodded, "And I'd like lodging, so if you'd point me in the direction of an available inn, I'd be much obliged young man."

He told her, "My father owns this one right here."

"Is it open now?" She inquired.

He nodded and was about to speak further when Mario returned. He took one look at Munson and smiled politely.

"Hey," He greeted, then asked Peach, "Did anyone come for the inn? I've had no luck."

"My father owns this inn," Munson told him, "You're Mario, right?"

"I am," Mario stated warily, "How'd you know?"

"My father's a fan." He shrugged, "Come on in. You can stay the night, it's on the house."

"Are you sure?" Mario spoke.

Munson nodded and said, "Like I told you, my father's a fan of you. He won't mind."

Many a time I resisted the urge to call the apartment and make sure Daisy was alright. I left my cell phone with her, showed her how to use it and answer and told her my work number. I told her to call me if she needed anything, or if she just wanted to talk to me. I wish she would have called sometime while I was at work, maybe then it wouldn't have been such a long shift. At any rate, I didn't call her and she didn't call me, so I had to wile away the hours assuming she was okay. Now I was off of work and headed home, at last. I was tired and only drove with my fingers back home. I'd never realized work was this taxing.

It probably only seems that way now because I have someone I want to get home to, I reasoned.

When I did pull into the parking space near my apartment, I yawned. Mechanically I got out and locked my car and headed up the flights of stairs and got to my door. It was locked, that was good. I got into my flat and locked the door behind me, noting the place was pitch black.

"Daisy?" I called out.

I hung my keys on the wall near the door and headed to the kitchen, then flipped the switch on. I saw her then, lying on her side on the floor in front of the tv. As much as I told her not to stay up for me, I thought she'd take the hint that my hours were late. It seemed the girl was determined to stay up though. Or try to. The remote was in her hand and her hair was splayed around her head. Her shirt, er, my shirt that she liked to wear was hiked up her stomach a bit. I crossed the room and took the remote from her. I paused.

"What?" I frowned.

Of all the things on tv, I hardly figured she'd be into Paula Dean. But then, Daisy was an excellent cook, so it kinda' made sense. I tried to turn the tv off but turned the channel instead, and some rap music video was playing. I didn't really mind rap, but I wasn't a music person so it was kind of all the same to me. Besides, the rap and RnB songs reminded me of that awful club that Terry used to love lounging around on Fridays. I made a face and shut the tv off.

I put the remote on the coffee table and reached down to pick Daisy up. She woke up almost immediately.

"Luigi?" she blinked. "When did you get back?"

"Just now," I told her. "You should've gone to bed."

She smiled and I wanted to kiss her but she was speaking, saying, "I wanted to wait 'til you came back."

"It's alright." I shrugged, "But next time go to sleep. You have a day job, remember? You'll need to get your rest."

"Right," She yawned.

She held onto me with her arms around my neck as I carried her to the bed. I got my stuff out the closet and went to take a shower. By the time I got out she was asleep again.

A/N: Thanks for reading. I don't feel well right now. It's just been one of those days. I can really sympathize with Ludwig right now because my head is making me want to pop my head like a pinata.

Anyway.

Please review and tell me what you think so far. If you think the story is dragging; it kinda is, but I'm a person who doesn't like to rush things so bear with me please ^^;

I will respond to any questions you have so don't hesitate to ask; unless it's going to spoil the plot, of course. Then you'll have to just wait.

Until next time!

~DymondGold~