Work Text:
“What is it we’re keeping a secret from Mario?” Peach asks, good-natured if confused, when she answers the phone.
“No Mama you can’t sound like that it’s an emergency.”
Hmm. Peach shifts the phone from one ear to another so she can dig through her drawer for a pair of socks that’ll match the shoes she wants to wear.
“Of what kind?” she asks Junior, slightly more concerned.
“There was this—black, paint, thing—it got Papa and now he’s acting all crazy.”
Peach stops with the pair of socks in her hand, drawer still open, face scrunching up as she scowls blankly at her dresser. “Again?”
“Wh- what do you mean again?”
“Wait, were you not there when…” Peach trails off before she finishes her sentence, face scrunching up more as she tries to remember. Five years is a long time. Finally she gives up and closes the dresser drawer. “You know what, never mind. Is he okay?”
“Papa? Yeah I—I mean I don’t think he’s hurt, he’s just… The locals are kind of mad and I don’t know how to get him to stop. So I thought I’d call but- I mean- I saw what happened last year, with the origami- and I know Mario won’t—I mean I don’t think it’s that bad—”
“No, no, I understand,” Peach interjects, because Junior sounds like he’s really freaking out. “It’s alright, I should be able to handle it.” It’s not like she hasn’t done her own adventuring before. And she certainly—fighting Bowser while he’s not himself isn’t exactly her idea of a fun Tuesday afternoon, but Junior’s right when he says she’ll handle it better than Mario will. “Where are you again? Vacation at Lake Lapcat, right?”
“Mmhmm.”
Peach sits down in her chair to swap her socks and put on a decent pair of shoes. Adventuring in a dress is fine, but she’s never going out in heels again.
“What happened, exactly? You mentioned paint…”
“Uh…” Junior hesitates for a significant amount of time. “If I… say, uh, magic paintbrush malfunction… you’re not gonna be mad, right?”
The words get Peach to stop for a second, halfway through tying her shoe. She stares blankly out into her room, as the words process, deliver comprehension. Oh, Junior. No wonder he’s freaking out so bad. Peach sighs.
“I’m not mad,” she says, first of all. “But I am going to tell you to be more careful. Do you know what malfunctioned, exactly, or am I going to have to call a specialist?” E. Gadd is not, exactly, on the list of people Peach looks forward to calling.
“Oh, no, no I think—I think I tapped into some magic here that I wasn’t supposed to?”
Peach laughs, lightly. “We've all made that mistake before I think,” she tells him, hoping to lighten his mood. He giggles back at her, nervous, but continues with much more gusto.
“The locals seem to have a pretty good idea of- of how to stop it, I just—It’s.” He hesitates for another second. Then, his voice quiet: “I wanted help?”
“I’m on my way.” Peach gets to her feet, using gravity to help her get her shoes settled.
“Don’t tell Mario!!”
Peach laughs at the idea Junior needs to remind her not to. “I won’t, I won’t,” she assures him. “I’m going to hang up now, okay? I’ll be there as soon as I can, I promise.”
“Okay. Love you bye,” Junior says, in a rush, and then hangs up before Peach can even move the phone away from her ear. That’s pretty typical for him, though, so Peach doesn’t think too much of it.
Peach sets her phone down for a second to pull her hair back, and then texts Luigi.
