Marceline Abadeer knew she was many things. Queen of the vampires. Heir to the Nightosphere. Embodiment of chaotic energy. Literally the thing that goes 'bump' in the night. She had torn men in half for looking at her funny, rendered entire villages wastelands, even successfully enacted genocide against her own kind. She was fickle enough to abuse her necromancy in order to generate an audience for a child's birthday party, the type of woman who advised a dear friend to release rabid wolves into the bedchamber of his person of affection as an attention-grabber, ignoring that said person of affection was also her person of affection. While Marceline knew that 'aggressive', 'mercurial', and 'jealous' were apt descriptors she also knew that 'loyal', 'playful', and 'devoted' were just as accurate.

She also knew that you could add 'angry' to that list.

No, angry wasn't the correct word. 'Infuriated' may be, or perhaps 'livid', or maybe even good old furious'. There was no shortage of things to be indignant about, really, so this in of itself was hardly a surprise; the world was an unjust place, especially for a vegetarian vampire hundreds of years old. However, this time the queen's outrage was focused, concentrated to such magnitude that she cursed that none of the vampires she ever ganked granted her laser vision or anything else useful for this situation. Because she faced a formidable opponent, and this enemy was elusive. Crafty. It knew it was in trouble, the way it darted in and out of view as if taunting the undead monarch. It would appear at her peripheral only to disappear into nothingness, reappearing behind her swiftly. But not silently. Oh no, for that was the problem. This foe was loud, horribly so. It amazed Marceline that its cry, its mocking laughter, hadn't managed to wake the kingdom and bring down the palace walls. It was like one of those pre-War horror movies Finn and Jake showed at their weekly movie club; the monster was painfully obvious to the hero, but the rest of the world seemed blissfully oblivious. There were words for insidious creatures like this, but none more accurate…

...than 'fly'.

Because that was what it was, the identity of her harasser. Not even a candy fly either, which would make a lot more sense, given her current location. No, she didn't even get that dignity. It was just a regular fly, no larger than any other, though she would swear for the next hundred years that it was the loudest fly she had ever heard. It would hover out of view, its buzzing always taunting her. Were this any other night she would simply have lashed out and crushed the annoyance, but this situation was unique and would not allow for such uncouth maneuvers; no matter how exasperating the fly may be she simply could not risk jostling her current position, or all of her day's and night's work would have been for nothing. As it was she had to take great personal care not to let herself snarl, stifling the urge by biting the inside of her cheek, the metallic taste of her own dead blood helping her focus. She briefly felt a pang of guilt, knowing that Bonnibel Bubblegum had rules against such absent-minded self-mutilation, but it was just that: brief. This fly was a threat, perhaps moreso than any fly that had ever come before it because of Bonnibel herself, and the oddity of the situation was not going to deter the vampire's ire.

This was not how Marceline Abadeer had expected to spend her first night home in days.

Prior to that evening the half-demon had been enjoying a brief one-week, one-woman tour of the Grassland's up-and-coming musical hotspots. Her lover had not handled her own near-death experience at the hands of the Lich smoothly, and true to form she had pushed the vampire out the door, wanting to have her own space to science a solution. At first Marceline had argued, not wanting to leave the candy monarch alone in such a frenetic state, but the queen knew from experience that there were moments, however rare, where her girlfriend would - much to her bafflement - not find her antics entertaining and, in these moments, she was prone to making her undead paramour sleep on the balcony. It was thus with a heavy, dead heart that when her mate had pointed towards the lab window she had put up her hands in defeat, obediently floating out and into the night sky. For that brief week it had been just her and her bass, adoring fans both new and old, and all of the unguarded red the land had to offer. In her haste she had not even packed a bag to sustain her, not anticipating being gone for more than a day or so. How long could the princess's obsession possibly last? She took to the night sky in search of fun and excitement, dressed only in a red and black plaid shirt, black jeans, and grey sneakers.

She had run with the wolves - as a wolf no less - unleashed some pranks so hardcore villages needed to call in Finn and Jake to fix her mess, and single-handedly invented night surfing, or so she would later claim (no one would believe her). All things considered, she was having a righteous time reminding herself of what Ooo could offer one untethered, undead rockstar, and she sometimes found herself with a small voice in the back of her mind absently wondering why she had to return to the Candy Kingdom in the first place; aside from the fun of making candy citizens explode there were no thrills to pump her adrenaline, no legion of admirers to chant her name and remind her of what it truly meant to be a queen, liberated from earthly concerns, rescued from any and all burdens that threatened her freedom and independence.

She found shelter in a grey, vacant shack conveniently positioned under a cliff, effectively blocking nearly all of the sun's rays. Which was fortunate, as the small building had been entirely empty except for a table missing three legs, a hideous two-seater couch a shade of green that disgusted even her, a box of holiday ornaments broken beyond recognition, and one small, strangely intact jewelry box. She could not open it without risking its destruction, and it was rather nice; a light brown, two drawers and a top, standing on four golden, rounded pegs. The top featured an engraved symbol she did not recognize that resembled a stylized, faceted raindrop outlined but what appeared to be stars. She resolved to take it with her, knowing that if she couldn't open it Bonnibel could.

Her thirst for autonomy changed after one particularly wild after-party, when she was forced to fight off some unwelcome advances from a 'fan'. She had been cornered on her way to the pile of red food she kept in what she assumed had once been the kitchen. Literally cornered: by the time she was aware that she was being propositioned by a possibly intoxicated - it was hard to tell with Lumpy Space people - she had been backed into a corner, her accoster either not understanding or not caring that she was entirely uncomfortable with the situation, and Lumpy Space people in general. Seriously, these people are weird. She had removed herself from the situation without grace or tact, both of those being traits for suckers. She had grabbed her bass and the box before leaving the party entirely, deciding to call it quits and fly home; Marceline Abadeer may be many things, but disloyal to her princess was not one of them.

As she flew back to the Candy Kingdom on autopilot, enjoying the night sky and the sounds of the woodland creatures, she suddenly realized how much she had missed her girlfriend. Hopefully she's gotten over her… thing? I don't know. Words are her deal. Initially, she had anticipated a quick journey home, unaware that her trip had actually taken her quite far from the castle. By the time she made it back the sun was threatening to come up, her skin already starting to sting from the ball of death. She hadn't quite made it as far as the castle before she was forced to find shelter in the fruit market, which was mercifully largely empty in the early morning. The only denizens were the shopkeeps preparing for the morning rush, and it was both easy and fun to swipe an apple from one stand, the parasol from another.

This caused a sudden panic among the candy citizens, resulting in shouting and accusations. Do they… do they seriously not see the floating umbrella? Dudes, it's bright yellow. Just… just turn around- you know what? Fine. Keep doing what you're doing. She shook her head, blinking in disbelief at the chaos erupting before her. One fruit stand vendor had thrown an apple at another, who, in turn, hurled a ball of mud at the nice clean tent of the nice gentleman who carved wooden boxes. Hey, he might know how to open- focus, Marceline. Go check on Bonnie. The candy monarch's propensity to complete neglect her self-care when in a crisis was no small matter, and the vampire knew that better than anyone. With one last glance at a now-upturned table she took off again for the castle, happily shielded from the death ball.

She suspected something was wrong when she flew over a gaping maw in the castle wall. She knew something was wrong the moment she saw Peppermint Butler. Or, more accurately, the moment she saw Peppermint Butler running towards her when she landed on the princess's balcony, looking equal parts relieved and panicked. Despite Bonnibel's demand that the two learn to inhabit the same room without glaring daggers with one another they rarely got along. The candy servant made his disdain very clear, outright declaring the vampire a 'blackguard' (Bonnibel had to explain to her what that meant later), a no-goodnik (that one she understood), and both a punk and a scoundrel (those she was proud of). He was very vocal in his opinion that the princess's relationship with the half-demon, royalty or not, constituted nothing more than a calamity for the kingdom. Were it up to him he would eject her post-haste and without ceremony, but he was all-too aware that it was not up to him, and as much as he disapproved of his mistress's taste in romantic partners he was honor-bound not to stop the vampire's courtship, secret or not.

Marceline did nothing to hide her dislike of the butler either. He was judgmental, self-righteous, stuffy, and- Laaaame. She also had reason to suspect that he served some function with her father, and she distrusted anyone who worked with Hunson on principle. He was shady, even by her standards, and any involvement with him meant involvement with the Nightosphere by default, and she wanted nothing to do with her birthright kingdom. This cemented her opinion that the candy man was two-faced and shifty, and the moment Bonnibel decided she was done with him she was going to drain him of all the red he was worth. In short, they very much loathed one another and weren't shy about that fact. And that was how Marceline knew something was wrong. Why else would he come to her, out of breath, the moment she walked through the door (figuratively speaking)?

"Oh, thank goodness! I searched for you everywhere!" Even now he did little to hide the admonishment in his voice. In response she rolled her eyes. "Uh… if you looked for me everywhere why didn't you find me?" He narrowed her eyes at her, opening his mouth to take the bait and argue, then thought better of it. Instead he straightened, adopting a nervous demeanor. "Yes, well. Be that as it may…" He hesitated then, as if not knowing how to finish that thought. As she waited the vampire lowered her axe, blade down, and leaned on it. It was rare to see Peppermint Butler lose his composure, and as worried as she was that this probably had to do with Bubblegum it was still hilarious. Finally, he decided to bite the bullet and just jump into it.

"During your absence the princess came to the realization… well, no… the conclusion that she will not live forever, and came to the decision that she must assure an heir to the throne exists." Marceline raised an eyebrow. Did she forget she's ageless and effectively immortal? Man, that junk messed her up more than I- "To accomplish this she created a candy sphinx using a combination of amino acids, algebra, and her own DNA." They stared at one another silently, the description of the events that occurred in her absence sinking in slowly. She didn't know what 'amino acids' meant, but she knew from years of experience that creations never went well when mixed with Bubblegum's DNA. Never. "...WHAT?" He regarded her sarcastically. "You are as articulate as always, Marceline." She glared at him but, as always, he seemed immune. "Explain. Better this time."

He offered his own glare, but complied. As infuriating as she is, I need her. This time. "After a prolonged absence of sleep she managed to create a candy sphinx she dubbed 'Goliad'. She then charged Finn and Jake with teaching her how to be an effective ruler." At 'Finn and Jake' he began to sound annoyed. "They failed in their task, and so when Her Highness decided to 'disassemble' her Goliad attempted to usurp the throne, causing significant damage to the castle in the process. The insurrection was finally put to rest when Her Majesty created a second candy sphinx using Finn as the base. The two are now locked into an eternal battle. Unless someone were to move one of them slightly. Which, undoubtedly, someone will." The tone of annoyance had yet to fade, though it did mix with the tone of worry in an interesting combination.

Marceline stared at him blankly, attempting to take in everything she just heard, lifting herself off of her axe in the process. "...Okay, so, first question. When you say 'usurp the thr-" "Oh, did I mention she could control minds?" The vampire frowned. Of course she could. Bonnie has a… thing with that. Although she said nothing her cheeks flushed slightly. Thankfully, the butler had the decency to not comment. "...Okay, so, skipping to the second question. How long was she awake?" He sighed. "Three days, at minimum. When Finn and Jake arrived she attempted to sleep, but quickly returned to work due to their spectacular failure at their one job." She blanked. How long have I been gone?! However, that wasn't what she asked. "Has she gone back to sleep?" To her disappointment, he shook his head. "I'm afraid not. She has become consumed with the idea of learning where she went wrong and devising a way to improve her original design." He paused, hesitating, as if his next words would cause him physical discomfort. "For reasons I do not understand you are the only one with a history of convincing her to care for herself when she becomes neglectful. So, if you would be so kind-" She didn't need to be asked, she had already picked up her bass. "Where is she?" "Her laboratory. Shall I escort you?" He seemed relieved when she ignored him, taking off down the hall.

As old as the castle was Marceline was older still. In fact, she had been present during its construction, lending her talents in no small amount. It was for this reason that she was aware of the secret passageway that connected the princess's rooms with the laboratory proper. Not waiting for Peppermint Butler to leave she flew into the bedroom, placing the brown box on the immaculately made bed, unmolested by its owner in an attempt to sleep. For a brief moment she considered leaving her bass as well, but decided against it. Although Bonnibel was loathe to admit it she was plagued with insomnia, and one of - or perhaps the only - things that could ease her suffering was the sound of her queen's music. They never spoke of it out of Bubblegum's obvious embarrassment, but she found some of the half-demon's softer songs to be rather soothing, even to her overactive mind. Marceline reserved these songs solely for her girlfriend; as far as she was concerned no one else was deserving of a lullaby from her. Ideally, she would be able to coax the candy monarch to her actual bed using - gasp - reasoning, but if that failed the vampire was not above calming her, then leading her back to her room in a sleepier state.

Marceline felt along the bedroom wall for the secret passage. It was only possible for Bubblegum and herself to traverse the connecting hallway; it was actually full of numerous traps, some of which could be fatal, and only the two knew how to avoid and/or disable them, on a case-by-case basis. Bonnibel Bubblegum was a paranoid woman, and sometimes this took the form of sadistic manifestations. Were she here, the candy golem would argue that such measures were necessary. Her laboratory contained serious research, some of which could cause widespread death and destruction in the wrong hands (she was insistent that her own hands were not 'the wrong hands').

Despite her familiarity, Marceline stilled crossed the hallway cautiously. Her lover was prone to fits of delusions, and in these throes she was liable to add even more traps and hazards. The queen could still hear the baffling reasoning in the back of her head, that it was fine because the rocker could just heal through the damage. Yeah, thanks Bon. Not like that doesn't hurt or anything. She shook her head to clear how miffed she was. Bonnibel was sleep-deprived, probably hadn't eaten since her project began, and Marceline was perhaps the only person who could get through to her.

Despite the rush she still proceeded with caution down the hallway. Over the firepit, around the spiketrap- Oh hey, those darts are new -squeezing through the invisible razor wire. When she reached the sealed steel door that was easily twice her height and width she frowned. Too easy. Hm… With a sinking feeling she slowly stuck her hand towards it, then stopped when she felt it. Yup. Electrified. Her she not possessed heightened senses, and were she mortal, she probably would have been killed. Fortunately, she was an immortal being with a high pain tolerance that could not be killed by electrocution, and it was for these reasons that she rammed the door at full force. It took two assaults, and it was immensely painful even to her, but the door eventually gave way just enough for a small black bat to flutter through, fur singed.

As expected, Bonnibel was so focused on her work she didn't notice Marceline's exceedingly loud entrance. She was at her computer desk, rapidly typing, staring at the screen without blinking for a disturbingly long amount of time. Her long hair was loosely tied back, a stained full-length lab coat over her full-length Most Royal Dress. The bat frowned. That can't be good. She fluttered to her princess, hovering behind her to peek at the screen. She isn't even typing words! She's just typing to type! Needing a quick way to get her attention, and now secure in the knowledge that she wouldn't actually be ruining any work, the bat flopped on the keyboard.

At first it didn't seem as though Bubblegum noticed, but when she moved her hand to hit a key that Marceline was covering she snapped out of her trance, looking down, startled. "Oh! Marcy! When did you get home?" Instead of responding the bat crossed its wings, squinting at her girlfriend judgingly. Bonnibel didn't seem to understand the not-so-subtle hint, just staring at her queen with glazed eyes. Realizing this was getting them nowhere the bat fluttered off of the keyboard, resuming its normal form once clear of anything such a transformation might damage. Marceline's arms remained crossed, her look of displeasure apparent. At least, apparent to anyone not sleep-deprived. She noted that it took far too long for Bonnibel to realize she had moved and redirect her gaze.

Still, it was hard to be mad at her. The princess didn't handle losing control very well, nor did she handle humiliation with grace, and Marceline suspected both factors may be at play. Her face softened. Were this a mere project like any other the vampire would already be lecturing her lover about the importance of self-care, but this incident had been born out of pain and desperation. Wanting a closer view of what she was dealing with she kneeled to look into her eyes, which she found to be strained with an emotion she was having trouble placing, but seemed almost like despair.

She kept her voice low and gentle. "Hey Bon… I just got back a few minutes ago. Pep-But told me what happened. Goliad, huh?" Bonnibel was nodding along absently before snapping to attention, realizing it was her turn to speak. "Hm…? Oh! Yes! Goliad! Unfortunately, that attempt failed, but the next shall succeed. I see now where I went wrong." Marceline smiled both gently and knowingly. "Bon, you can't mix things with your DNA. This happens everytime." Once again, the response was an absent nod. "Yes, I see that now. Don't worry Marcy, I see where I went wrong, and the next attempt shall succeed." Although the princess didn't register it, her vampire was frowning. She's repeating herself without realizing it. That's it. "So Bonnie… when did you last take a nap?" She shook her head. "I'm fine, Marceline. I'll be done soon." They both knew that was a white lie. It always was. "Let's both just go upstairs and take a nap. You can come right back down after, I won't stop you." They both knew that was a white lie. It always was. Bonnibel frowned. "Marceline, you don't understand. I almost died. My people need a ruler if I bite it. I'm not going to live forever." Demonic eyes rolled. "Bonnie. You're ageless. You're effectively immortal. If you weren't sleep-starved you'd remember that." She was nodding, but obviously not listening. Instead, dull green eyes stared at nothing.

Marceline took a breath, exhaling slowly. Well, I didn't expect you to make this easy on me. "Well, I guess I can't stop you, huh?" Realizing that Bubblegum had refocused back to the gibberish on her computer the half-demon smirked, rather successfully keeping it out of her voice. "So… can I wait for you to be done?" The typing resumed. "Yes, that's fine. Just keep your playing down." The smile that elicited was genuine, Marceline sitting in the air behind her. She strummed softly, testing the water to see how her girlfriend would react. When she didn't she began a soft song that, while not a lullaby per se, was slow and calming nonetheless. It was a song she had played many times before when she was trying to coax her girlfriend into a more relaxed state.

When Marceline was very young, before Simon had lost his mind to the crown, he had tried to teach her some hard life lessons in the most gentle way possible. One that always stuck to her, particularly after she first met Not-Yet-Princess Bubblegum, was that pride comes before a fall. It was something that she always saw ring true in her mate, something that her infinite intellect never registered was a weakness within herself. She had never considered that her own hubris would be her undoing, never thought that she could be her own worst enemy. This was the only reason Marceline was ever able to lure her away from her work. Bonnibel was far from stupid; she knew that her vampire was playing soft, comforting music in an attempt to get her to go to bed, and that made her smile smug. But it didn't stop her yawn.

At first Marceline wasn't sure if it was having any effect at all; the typing, albeit nonsense, was still done quickly, Bubblegum's posture was straight, her eyes forward and focused on her screen. When she saw the yawn, though, she smirked without malice, not stopping for her one-woman audience. The typing soon slowed, green eyes blinking in vain attempts to concentrate on whatever task they had been assigned. Marceline watched at pink shoulders pushed themselves back, heard the audible *pop* of a candy spine realigning itself. That was the sign she needed, and she grinned as she faded her song out, gently placing her bass against the table, blade-down.

Bubblegum felt two cool hands on her shoulders, immediately setting to work on the muscle knots that seemed to perpetually reside there. She closed her eyes, leaning her head back, knowing that there would be an accompanying chest to rest it on. She always knows where they are. A lifetime - and Bonnibel Bubblegum had lived for hundreds of years - in her line of work meant that the princess's body regularly become tense, her muscles fusing into knots that evoked painful spasms. She was used to them, and was able to ignore them in most cases. That was hard to do when skilled fingers were relieving her of needing to. By now, after a relationship spanning centuries, Marceline knew where she held her tension, where her muscles would ache the most, and how to help her. She knew her back was the worst of it, and would start there, but if the princess let her continue the half-demon would try to break up the rest of her tension.

No one, save for her vampire, was ever allowed to touch her for prolong periods of time, which meant that after the initial shock of feeling another person the contact always felt very nice. Already she could feel some of the smaller knots melt away, no match for a determined rockstar with the ambitious goal of helping a work-driven insomniac find sleep. When Bonnibel's eyes slid shut she felt a very gentle kiss on her forehead, then her a gentle-albeit-amused voice. "You wanna take a nap, Bon?" With great reluctance, she replied. "...Yeah. Alright. Wake me up in fifteen minutes. Promise." She heard a chuckle. "Alright, promise." You didn't say they had to be fifteen minutes in a row. The vampire smirked at her own cleverness. It was a rare thing for her, and she was going to enjoy it. "But you can't sleep in your chair." Without waiting for permission she scooped her lover up, one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back. To her relief the exhausted scientist didn't fight her, instead allowing herself to be flown back to her rooms after a brief moment that allowed Marceline to strap her bass to her back.

By the time they arrived in her bedroom Bonnibel had admitted to herself that she might be just a little bit tired. She was already dozing when she was lowered to the bed, smiling when she felt her soft, warm blankets wrap around her, her lover already having removed her shoes and lab coat. Before the arms she found so comforting could pull away she wrapped her hand around a grey wrist, a green eye opening slowly. "...Stay?" Marceline blinked, then smiled. "When have I ever been able to say no to you, Bon?" She knew that if she didn't prepare as if they were going to bed for realzorz the princess would assume she planned to leave immediately after she fell asleep and would defiantly stay awake, thus undermining all of the half-demon's efforts. She rolled her eyes, relieving herself of her boots, shirt, and jeans. When she started to remove her socks she noticed out of the corner of her eye that she had an audience and raised an eyebrow. "Enjoying the view, Bon?" She snorted in amusement when Bonnibel, completely unashamed, nodded.

Once stripped to her red bra and panties - as was her typical bedtime outfit - the vampire slid into bed next to her girlfriend. Immediately a pink head nuzzled into the crook of her neck, a pink arm draping across an almost-bare waist. In automatic response one grey arm wrapped around the candy woman, the other sliding under her to bring a sleepy head to an almost bare-chest. The princess was asleep immediately, and Marceline almost joined her…

Until the fly.

Its buzzing was obnoxious. Its flight pattern vexing. Its stupid banging into the stupid window stupid. And all Marceline could think about was how it could undo all of her hard work by waking Bonnibel up. She could be awoken by its buzzing. It could land on her. The 'ping' of its stupid body could prove too repetitive to ignore. It could decide to abandon the window and hang out near the bed, where the cool people were. It could do any number of things, ruin all of her effort in any number of ways. What if it lays eggs and they all hatch?! Wait, do flies lay eggs? Marceline decided to ask Bonnibel if flies lay eggs when this was over.

The most irksome part of the situation was the knowledge that there wasn't a thing the rocker could do about it. If it were just her she would have already smashed the interloper. But it wasn't just her. Bubblegum was finally asleep, and peacefully in her arms no less. It wasn't until that moment that Marceline realized how much she had missed this, had missed having her other half in her embrace. Somewhere along the way she had grown to prefer playing gently in her girlfriend's lab over the thrill of partying with random strangers. With a smirk she kissed her pink forehead. What the flip did you do to me, Bonnibel?

Still, that fly remained a constant presence, a looming threat, and she could lift no finger, claw, wing, talon, or any other appendage to stop it. Her jaw clenched as she watched it float around like it owned the place, her eyes narrowing when it landed at the foot of the bed, exercising momentous restraint in not growling or pouncing on it. The hand behind Bonnibel's head twitched, her fangs almost extending in preparation for a fight that would never come. When it flew back to the window she found herself imagining all of the things she could do to this invader. She wanted to rip its wings out, pluck its ugly little legs. Maybe poke its eyes out. She wanted it to suffer. Wait, do flies feel pain? Marceline decided to ask Bonnibel if flies feel pain when this was over. Where's Timmy when you need him? Cats are supposed to hate flies. It's like the law.

The vampire was all-too aware that despite her immense strength she was effectively powerless against a stupid insect, and the ridiculousness of the situation made her want to tear her hair out. But what could she do? All of the powers she had suffered for meant squat in this case. Shape-shifting? That would be great if I could move. Flying? Yeah. 'Fly'ing. Ha ha. Invisibility? What was that supposed to do? Healing? That's the most useless of all! Telekinesis? Yeah ri-

...Oh.

Narrowing her eyes she waited until the creature was across the room, by the window, then crushed it to death, allowing herself a triumphant grin…

...which fell as soon as she turned her head, seeing a very awake Bonnibel who was sporting a very amused grin. They stared at one another silently before Marceline dared to speak.

"...Hey Bon."

"Hey Marceline."

"So… uh… what did you see?"

The amused grin became smug, and the vampire flushed deeply.

"Just one of the most powerful beings in Ooo get into a staring contest with a fly."

"...Huh."

"I was wondering how long it was going to take you to realize you possessed telekinetic abilities. You know, the ones you use to enter my room by unlocking the latch to my windows. Which you do almost nightly."

"...Huh."

"I'm glad to see that you eventually caught on. I'm proud of you."

"...Huh."

Once again, they stared at one another, neither the blush nor the grin subsiding. Finally, Bonnibel kissed her grey cheek before settling back into her lover's arms, eyes sliding shut. "You're a dork, Marcy. Go to sleep."

Sleep was a long time coming, but she eventually caught on to that as well.