Oh, hello there! Here for more graybles, I reckon. However! Tonight is our special adult edition. So, cover the ear nubs of your little ones, and set their dials to sleep mode.

All done? Well, alright then. Focus your attention on my viewing cube.

What's that? Guess tonight's theme? Well my mature gloobers, I think that would be quite obvious! Hoo hoo!

So, without further ado, let this enticing grayble dribble all over your mind label!

Marceline tossed and turned in the air, completing a 360 in search of sleep. Yet, even a bed of air could not offer her comfort. She groaned indignantly and looked at the artificial glow of her alarm clock. It was one a.m., just after she had returned from her story telling session at Ice King's castle. Her tale struck such a chord that it had made the blue man set all of his captives free to travel into the night air. She recalled continuing the story as she wafted above the trailing of princesses, through the darkness and into the warm candlelight of their perspective kingdoms.

After seeing their safe and satisfied faces she had returned to her cave, wishing that her yarn of comedic romance had warmed her insides as well. She went down to the fridge; perhaps the red from some spicy pepper could make her feel that way. As she approached the refrigerator, she remembered how the man had cowered atop it, like a bushy white cat. The way that he easily recognized her and called out her name this evening had made her feel some sense of gain, even if the accomplishment was not her own. He had even felt assured enough to lift her pants leg and brush her skin for goosebumps. Her mind tossed up whether the boldness belonged to Simon or The Crown. The innocence kept balled in the pit of her stomach chanted constantly for his triumph. Her thousand year old mind was wiser than that. Should she keep interacting in search of Simon, or get to know and love the being that he was now? Was there no hope? Would there only be pain in their interaction?

She sunk her fang into the corner of the pepper, it felt more like heartburn than the warm tingle that she had hoped for. He hadn't liked her story much. Could it have been the fact that there were no princesses? Or did he want Marshall Lee to end up somewhere else; with someone else?

"Marceline!"

"Huh?" She jumped at the familiar voice, dropping the now gray pepper that rolled under the table.

"Let me in!" Ice King tapped on the window. He put on a pouty face. "Pleaaase."

"Ugh." She responded. "It's the early a.m., aren't old guys supposed to be in bed by now?"

"Old? I'm not old!" He responded indignantly.

"Prove it." She smirked.

"I will if you let me in!" He repeated.

This she had to see. "Fine." She sighed, unlatching the door.

A thought crossed her mind as she levitated at the level of the Ice King's head. She put a hand out before he could cross the threshold. "No crowns allowed."

His mouth wobbled a bit as a storm of emotions came over and subsided, "Alright, alright. I know you just want to get a look at the old chrome dome." He chortled, reluctantly placing the crown outside the door.

She laughed and wiggled her eyebrows. He wiggled back. "Say, where did you learn to do that?" A curious look crossed his face.

"Some old perv taught me." She looked down. He had made his robe look like footie pajamas.

He noticed her glance. "Check out how not old I am!" His fingers were shaped like guns, pointing act her with mock fire.

"Quite the opposite of old." She noted, feeling herself the senior.

"I know, right?" He smiled with accomplishment, "I feel like I've done this before. I wanted to do it again."

"Um, excuse me?" She felt a lump in her throat.

"You know, a sleep over!" He wrapped an arm around her floating neck. "We can tell ghost stories and gossip and eat junk food 'til we barf!" His other arm panned out as he spoke.

She detached herself from his grasp, taking a moment to analyze the situation. What the hell, she couldn't sleep anyway. "Alright." She confirmed, now standing on solid ground. "But, since I only know what to do at girl sleepovers," she removed one of her crossed arms and held it aloft, "you're going to have to get a makeover."

"Hrm," He stalled. "I didn't like the way it turned out with Finn and Jake. Promise I get to keep my boyish charm?" He glanced up from under concerned brows.

"Vampire's honor." She held up two fingers. "Heck, maybe you'll feel like you did years ago." She felt a tug at her heart.

They were up in her room now, sitting cross legged on the floor while her scavenged record player cranked out tunes that she wasn't alive for the creation of. At least the tunes were lively, and she had grown to know and love them over years of isolation. After a forced shower to rid him of the "penguin stank" as coined by Marceline, Ice King had changed into a spare black t-shirt and some gym shorts that, she was not proud to say, had belonged to Ash. She was running a brush through Ice King's mane of white as she sung along, "Reaching out, to touch a stranger, electric eyes are everywhere..."

Ice King chimed in, his eyes closed, "See that girl, she knows I'm watching, she likes the way I stare..."

Marceline burst out laughing, "Pfffhaha, you would pick that line." She tied his hair back into a ponytail. Then, her movements froze. "Wait, how do you know this song?"

He was silent for a moment as his brow furrowed, "Why, you wrote it, didn't you Marceline? I know all your hits. The princesses dig 'em."

"No." She shook her head. "I found this miles beneath the surface of Ooo in a land occupied by Mugglubs."

"Hehe, go figure." He shrugged it off.

She floated to face him, placing both palms firmly on his shoulders. "You know this song from somewhere else, think about it, Simon!"

Ice King looked shocked, turning from her to wrap his bony arms around his knees. "That's not my name, and I don't know what you're shouting about!" He huffed indignantly.

She looked upon his huddled form with pity. Tears stung the corners of her eyes. This wasn't the right way to go about this. Nothing she tried had worked since the day he called her Gunter. Maybe Simon was gone, he was only a human after all. All that could be left would be a shell embodied by the essence of a wizard that had been trapped in the crown. Warm droplets began to fall as the thought train continued towards the station of Simon's death and utter annihilation from this world. She sobbed once more at the loss.

Ice King looked over his sulking shoulder at the crying girl. "Hey, hey now," he scuttled over like a crab, "are you sad because you can't remember my name?" He placed a comforting hand on her upper back. "I forget things all the time! I have journals and journals of junk from my past in my basement. Yep. Most of the time it's soggy with tears from who knows where." He leaned into her ear in secrecy, "I think my journals are haunted by sad ghosts!"

She stalled the sorrow and looked into his charcoal eyes, examining what he had said. She tried to disguise her excitement. "Really, then the next mission on our sleepover is reading each other's diary!"

"Well, why not." He accepted reluctantly. "Sheesh, girls have some weird rituals."

She hugged him, noting how this time he did not try to kiss her. "But first, you have to sing my favorite song." Marceline pushed forward, a curious fire born within her. "Finish it for me, 'Making your way in the world today takes everything you've got...'"