Okay, so after Michael's tale, i am now wrapping up The Spring Princess.

Thanks for following, reading, reviewing, hope you liked the ride!

Please, review.

enjoy, w.

Saturday, April 5, Michael's place; much, much later

Well.

I still can't believe I will say this, but the afternoon went exactly as planned. Which obviously I cannot say very often.

We all went to lunch, and l got to meet members of Michael's team. Midori even gave me a big hug, as if really happy to see me. Honestly, I didn't really know what to think about it, because we never really met before. She just bought medication for me when I was visiting Michael and my immune system crashed. I can't believe I thought they were dating back then. But, if I think back to my week in Japan, I was high most of the time. Whether with overhydration, fever, meds or love.

After lunch, when Mr. G had to take my drunken mom home (she should totally wait with this reckless second-time teenage behavior of hers until I graduate. And since Rocky and René amazed the whole restaurant with their dead metal / drumming skills, I think my little brother is beyond help whether or not a miracle happens and he gets a sane mother overnight), my dad had to go back to working on his campaign, Michael's parents had their weekly session with a therapist (Michael says the only reason why they are going is to have someone else qualified decide which Dr. Moscovitz has a more correct opinion regarding the whichever psychological fact they are arguing that week), Lilly went to 'see Gretchen Weinberger about an Atom report', and cousins finally stopped talking about Dating Agency Mandy (I don't even know why they brought that up. And why they found it to be so funny. Yeah, it's funny if you want to get syphilis. Matchmaking services are not sanitary, at all!) and LEFT, Michael and I finally got some alone time.

We just sat there in the restaurant, drinking sparkling water, eating chocolate cake (Pierre totally makes it better), and playing footsie under the table (footsie is actually a rather nice game when you are the one playing it. And trust me, the presence of your bodyguard doesn't spoil it. Especially if your bodyguard is hitting on the hostess.).

When Lilly texted me, I suggested to Michael that we leave.

"And where do you want to go?" he said, caressing my cheek.

"How about your place?" I said. "I haven't been there before, you know."

Which, I have to say was totally his fault. Who buys and furnishes their apartment ONLINE, from another CONTINENT?

My boyfriend, that's who.

He should wait until he came back. And then I would go apartment scouting with him. And we'd buy furniture together, find the theme of his place. Because I am totally planning on spending lots of time there. And because we obviously won't get to furnish tour home after the wedding. Because we will be living in the palace.

"And we ditch Lars, and …" he leant closer to me and kissed me.

"Mhm," I giggled as he paid the bill.

Lars wasn't too happy about it, though.

"Can't you guys just order another cake or something?" he groaned. "I really like this chick and I think she likes me back."

(Well, at least he is not picking his girls at dating services!)

"Well, Lars, then why don't you stay here and I'll take Princess back to my place?" Michael suggested.

Lars clearly liked the idea very much. He kept ruffling his hair and looking back at the hostess, who kept smiling at him with her eyes, just like Tyra always says to the girls. And the royal portraitist is telling me (maybe I would know how to pull it off if I wanted to be a model).

"I mean, Lars," I decided to use a bit of that diplomacy my Grandmere always uses. And, I mean, if she managed to get a BOYFRIEND, then I too must be capable of using her tricks to my advantage. "If you go with us to Michael's, somebody might snatch her. And, really, wouldn't that be a waste, given you'll just escort us there, and then come running back here? And, not to mention, sweat all over your forehead wouldn't look that good."

"She has a point," Michael nodded. "Don't worry, I'll take care of the princess. I'll jump in front of the bus if there is a need."

"No, don't do that," Lars said. "It can be a trick. Double danger. First the bus, then the sniper. Just pull her out of the bus' way, so that you can look around for the guns."

"Noted," Michael grinned. "What if there's a third danger?"

"Then you are hailed a hero who did everything possible, but still couldn't save the princess," Lars told him.

"And the palace turns into a cat shelter, great," I said, "Lars, good luck, Michael, let's go."

And I got up and started dragging Michael to the door. Which, you have to admit, was very feminist. Kind of like the Beyoncé album, if you really think about it.

Hand in hand we walked over to Michael's place. At first we chatted about the new Star Wars, about the new Mumford and Sons music (they're like the only band we both like to listen to. It actually worries me, as I read on Twitter that couples who like the same music last longer. I totally tried to make Michael listen to Damien Rice (even René likes him, and René listens to Nicki Minaj), but he said it was too depressing. Well, hello, that's the point of Damien Rice. And like Bob is any better. Boys.), and then we just giggled. I mean, how we could not – we had the afternoon and the consequent night all to ourselves, not to mention, the whole summer, because Grandmere will be off to a farm in Sweden (this totally reminds me of something. I just can't pinpoint what. But whatever.).

Then we finally got there. I could barely contain my excitement, I swear. I just wanted to get magic powers and transport us to his living room, where his surprise was waiting. The elevator ride, the walk to his apartment, his fumbling for the keys and opening the door just DRAGGED.

Of course Michael noticed.

"What's up with you?" he grinned.

"I have a surprise for you," I told him.

"Yeah, I know," he laughed, taking a break from looking for his keys to kiss me.

"No," I pushed him away, which, given his smell, was really hard, "something else. A surprise."

"I thought you said you weren't here yet."

"Its magic," I said and took the keys, opening the door myself (Beyoncé would be proud).

"Come on," I urged him, grabbing his arm and dragging him to where I thought the living room was. Which, obviously, was a shot in the dark, so I ended up in the kitchen. But in a true feminist fashion I kept trying until I succeed it.

There, in front of the sofa, were two little folding tables. On one a tray with veggie burgers from Balducci's, ketchup, mayo, mustard and two cans of Coke (for the sake of authenticity I didn't even get a diet one for myself), and on the other were sundaes.

And on TV – large screen that probably cost enough to feed Johanna's family for at least five years – was the title image of the first Star Wars. Lilly even lowered the shades, so that the room was completely in the dark, only illuminated by the screen.

For once, I wasn't the one speechless.

"What is this?" Michael gasped.

"Oh, come on," I laughed. "Don't tell me you don't know what this is!"

"Well, I… Did you prepare all this?"

"Stop changing the subject, otherwise I will really start thinking you don't know what this is," I told him. "And, no, I don't exactly know how to clone myself, Michael. Lilly did it for me."

"And why did you feel like the reenactment of our first date was needed?" he asked, pulling me closer.

"So you do remember?" I smiled, throwing my arms around his neck.

"Of course I do."

"Well," I said. "In a way, we are starting fresh, don't we?"

"I'd say every day with you is something completely fresh," he smiled.

"Yeah, well, with my cousins, sure," I laughed.

Michael looked at the tables again.

"You know," he said, "we just had lunch hand all those desserts. I am not really hungry right now."

"Well, I was thinking that that's for later."

"Good," he said, and lifted me up. Then he, with me in his arms, walked out of the living room, presumably to the bedroom. But, hey, I wasn't the only one completely disorientated. Which, obviously, was totally his fault for buying an apartment online. He has no idea how lucky he is that he didn't end up buying a cabin in the forests in Vermont, with mold instead of wallpaper, with plumbing as bad as in Genovian Royal Palace, and maple syrup factory standing where the garage should be.

When we were finally in the bedroom, he threw me on the bed and the way he kissed me was pretty advanced for the first date. But I still didn't apprweciate it when he suddenly stopped.

"What?" I asked.

"Just a sec," he beamed at me, getting up and running out of the room.

Well, you know, they say that all the geniuses are crazy.

I sighed and leant on my elbows. I looked around and saw a bunch of framed photographs on the night stand. There was Pavlov – who Michael was to pick up tomorrow from Lilly -, his family, me, us, another photograph of what I presumed were his team members, just a bit more multicultural looking, and then there was a picture at which I wasn't completely sure what it was. I picked it up to get a better look.

I realized it was picturing a street. It didn't look like New York, so I figured it was in Tsukuba. There were street performers, lots of stands with people lining up in front, and everything was so colorful. I always thought Sebastiano was the definition of colorful, but this was just way off the chart.

I was so mesmerized I didn't even hear Michael sitting down next to me.

"Where was this taken?" I asked him.

"Tokyo," he smiled.

"It's so lively," I said.

"Yeah, it was something really special," he said, taking the picture out of my hands, putting it back down among the others. "I have something for you, again."

And he handed me a small, flat box that looked very familiar. He opened it, smiling, and I gasped.

"Oh, my god," I said, reaching out to take the snowflake necklace.

"You gave it back to me once," Michael said, "but I think it is time you got it back. If, of course, you still want it."

"Of course I do," I said, still completely taken aback. "I didn't think I'd ever see it again. Why didn't you tell me you kept it?"

"I waited for the right opportunity," he said, taking it from my hands, and I turned around so that he could put it on me, again.

"I missed it, so much," I said, placing my fingers over it.

"If you want, I can have a diamond put in," he told me.

"No way," I shook my head and kissed him. In a true mix of French and feminist way.

And then I got some really good material for the sequel to Ransom My Heart.

And now I am in the bathroom, dressed in my new favorite Britney T-shirt (it turns out Sebastiano has been working on that collection lately again, and he gave some samples to Michael, as a, in his words, welc gif), that goes:

Sometimes a girl just needs one

To love her and to hold

And when a girl is with one

Then she's in control!

Which, if you ask me, would totally pass as feminist lyrics.

And I think now I am going to go wake Michael up, because I totally want that sundae. It will be like a cherry on top of my ecstatically happy princessy life.

Or maybe I'll just turn Ransom My Heart into a trilogy.

Or a series.

The never-ending one.

The End.

Broughttoyouby:::winter.