She told herself it was exactly what she needed. There were excuses called rest and relaxation, things she knew would never be afforded to her, but sounded good when she proposed the trip. Peppermint Butler's brief frown let her know that he saw right through her, but it didn't stop him from arranging the necessities.

The sun was warm and it sparkled across the water perfectly. It was too bad that they spent a good hour prying Cinnamon Bun out of the three inner tubes he managed to stuff himself into. Then came the unfortunate discovery of the general incompatibility that sticky sugar has with sand. By the time Princess Bubblegum actually had the opportunity to sit down, the sun was threatening to set. Such a petty thing wasn't going to stop her, though.

Breath slowly escaped her lips as she settled onto a towel beneath a now mostly unnecessary umbrella. She watched her citizens play. Sandcastles were built and quickly demolished. Unsuspecting sunbathers were became mountains of sand. Beach balls were lost, found, then forever claimed by the waves.

She could almost forget. In the chaos of it all, she could barely hear herself think. Thoughts didn't have time to linger until they sunk down her throat, thick and vile like cough syrup. They would slip into her gut and twist it, then come back up as fire to boil her in her skull until she could do nothing but cry. No amount of cool glasses of her favorite sweet tea and stiff consolations from Peppermint Butler could stop it either.

But thinking about how nice it is to not think is probably the worst thing one can do.

She laid down, leaving the chaos of the candy people to fade into a steady hum before her. Above her the sky was a bruise, slowly growing more and more purple. The first brave stars appeared as she watched. "You never liked the beach anyway," she told them.

"What do you like to do then?" she'd asked what seemed like years earlier. "I guess I should be asking where you like to go…"

"You gotta understand babe," a husky voice almost whispered, like this was some vital secret. "Some places…aren't useful anymore. Beaches are a sunny happy thing. I'm not really a sunny happy thing, so they don't really work for me."

She almost felt ashamed for suggesting it. Her arms curled tighter around cool skin, trying to apologize. "You're not happy?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

The sand beneath her was also growing cold, but it didn't turn around to hold her tight and make promises it didn't intend to keep either. She dug her fingers into it and sat up again. Her citizens were gathering around a steadily growing bonfire and squealing in delight as the flames took to the pile of driftwood. It was about time for her to join them again.

"Don't touch that!"

Fangs poked out first before the full smirk emerged. "Worried I'm gonna burn myself? Relax, Bonnie. I'm a big girl."

She floated amidst a maze of glass, her lanky limbs bowing thick, then even thinner through the beakers and flasks. She laughed. She laughed like she always did—like she knew everything and knew how little it all really mattered. "What's the matter, brainlord? Can't I visit my girl at work?"

"You're hovering over at least four kinds of highly volatile acids, Marceline," she scolded. "I think I have a right to be somewhat concerned."

"For me or for the acid?" the vampire asked back. "Because that bubbly green stuff has nothing on me." She grinned, fangs flashing in the flames of the Bunsen burners, but the Princess knew it wasn't genuine. She'd learned that smile and its many potential meanings

They were setting up for dinner already. Peppermint Butler had laid claim to the grill. Tables were being set, citizens seated. It was calmer. They seemed to be doing fine without her, at least for the moment. She didn't even get a chance to eat lunch, but she wasn't sure if her stomach was rebelling out of hunger or if it was going to twist her into tears again.

She panted against her neck, desperate. Bubblegum could almost feel the effort it took for her to pull away and cup her face instead. She stared at her, eyes piercing, neither red nor black nor blue, but any color they wanted to be. Her free hand lashed out too fast, catching the Princess' and stilling it. It nearly crushed her wrist, while the other was cool and gentle on her cheek. It left her just enough time to come back to herself and start to ask, "What? Do you want to stop or—?"

She shook her head and her hair spilled everywhere, a great pile of heavy black silk. She moved slowly, releasing her hand first. Those cold fingers then crawled up to perch on a soft pink shoulder before she leaned back into her and hovered just above her neck again. "Can I? Please? You have no idea how hard it is for me not to…"

Any other creature would have been terrified. Anyone else would have run screaming long before then. Anyone insane enough to come to this point would still run. Bubblegum could feel oddly hot breath against her neck and she knew what was being asked of her. The hand on her shoulder trembled, threatening to become a claw, but holding back for her sake.

"Yes," she breathed.

A tiny hand on her knee helps her to pull out of the ball that she's made of herself. Peppermint Butler repeats the morning's frown. He knew it wouldn't work all along.

"Everyone—"

"Is too busy cleaning up the mess they made with that food fight to notice. Don't worry about them," he reassured her.

"I'm an idiot," she sniffed. "And I'm not going to repeat all the other things, because you've heard them at least a dozen times already."

She expected him to suggest that she call her again. He did before after exhausting his usual string of phrases, and while she screamed him out of her room for it, she did at least pick up the phone several times before the end of that night. He'd long run out of encouraging and polite things to say, though. He merely extended a glass her way and explained, "Water, of the fresh variety— not the salty stuff out there."

She took it. "It's my fault you know."

"If my lady insists. You know, you could call her and tell her th—"

She stopped him and let a weak laugh part her lips. "Not a chance."