Aw man! Dx NOOOO!

Me: *is reading comments when one of them confuses me* huh? *decides to go back and check it out* she grabbed his . . . I HATE EVERYTHING!

T-T My real reaction was my face getting red and I couldn't concentrate on school the whole day *facepalm* Okay, I learned my lesson. From now on I'll proofread what I write. Curse you computer.

Fionna groaned out, "Hey PG, why can't we change out of these clothes? We smell like a tomato farm and it's totes nasty. Plus, it's giving me a headache!" Scratching her back she thought, 'What if there's a tomato that worked its way down to his lab? And became a mutation! Then it comes back while we're dancing and gobbles us up! But then Marshall and I are covered in tomatoes so would that mean it would mistake us for its babies?' That idea could've gone and ended multiple ways. 'And all because he doesn't let us change—and check out if there's any monster.'

"Well," Gumball crossed his arms, "who's bright idea was it to have a little 'food fight' and expect not to be soiled afterwards?" Marshall whispered something about it being his mom's idea—just being the retard he was—but was silenced when Fionna punched his arm. "Exactly. If there are no more interruptions, we can move on for the last time. Just hold out until this lesson is over and then that is when you go home and clean up. Are we clear?"

Both of them nodded.

"Alright. You are going to be taught the correct way to. As everyone knows, one must dance as well as he acts." He chuckled to himself as if it were an inside joke. Fionna and Marshall just gave each other sideways glances that said they didn't get what he meant.

Marshall hissed under his breath for her to hear, "Why is he always saying jazz like that? I'm really thinking of how much it'd hurt, and how early I'd be able to leave from here, if I jabbed a fork into my hand just to distract myself from him." A shrug from her didn't really give him her opinion of the matter.

Giving no explanation for what he said, Gumball called in Cinnamon Bun. "Pay close attention to this because after I perform for you how it's done' it's your turn. First, being a gentleman Marshall," coated thickly over his words was the implication of how he thought that the king wasn't a gentleman at all, perhaps just an animal, "you bow to your lady. His bow to CB caused her to laugh, get flustered, and curtsy in the returned gesture.

"Then you take her hand in your right, left on her waist, and bring her close." PG smiled at them and kept listing off the steps, "The usual dance for beginners is just going in a circle motion, but I find that quiet a snooze, so I myself add in a kick to make it unique! Try to do that when you dance, to make it your own!" They watched as Gumball and Cinnamon Bun waltzed around the ballroom in a synchronized way that made it appear that they had practiced for days.

Fionna blushed subconsciously. 'Is PG going to hold me like that? . . . !' What if he did!? Good Grod! She'd probably be all red and embarrassed! And what if she squealed?! Then she wouldn't be able to talk to him for a week because every time he'd see her he'd remember it! He'd think she was weird!

While this was what she was thinking, it was completely opposite from Marshall's. He had a bored, annoyed look whilst Fionna had an adoring one. 'I sure hope that Bubba knows that I am not going to hold him that way. He rolled his eyes and let out a loud, fake yawn which sadly didn't disrupt the prince's dance or Fionna's goggling.

When the pair was done dancing, Gumball bowed again and kissed her hand. Cinnamon Bun giggled and ran out of the room. He walked over to Fionna still smiling. "Okay, you have seen an example, now it is your turn to try it out!" Grabbing her hand caused dozens of roses to blood under her skin.

She felt like she was light as air! She was going to dance with Gumball finally! It hit her as a shocker when instead of being led out onto the dance floor by him, he put her hand in Marshall's and then pulled them out together. Then when they were in the middle, he let go of her hand completely! What was this!? She stopped blushing so much and grunted quietly.

"Marshall," the prince said, "do as you saw me do. Turn to the lady and bow."

Smirking, Marshall turned to face her. He folded one arm in front of him, one behind, and then bowed low, "Oh hello, my dear bunny! You are looking very fine indeed! I happened to notice the meat sauce on you face and thought it was a wonderful addition! It really brings out the color of your eyes!" He laughed snootily, obviously trying to imitate what he thought fancy, stuck up people sounded like. "Ahohohaha!"

Smiling, Fionna decided to play along. "Why thank you, !" She curtsied. "I try my best to look the most fabulous! And me oh my! I love those clumps of tomato that are clinging to your hair! It absolutely ties up the whole look!" Together they were laughing like a bunch of pompous royals.

"Ugh," Gumball said distastefully. "Why do you guys do things like this? You know what? Forget I asked that. Just do what we did and dance so I can turn in my results to my colleagues. Oh, and Marshall, both feet on the ground, it's much more . . . appealing." He went to go sit down and watch them, taking notes on a clipboard.

"Yowl," Marshall raised both of his eyebrows in surprise, "Looks like a certain wad of gum is tired of having us in his company." Putting his feet firmly on the ground, he offered her his hand with mock courtship. "M'lady." He smirked again, one fang popping out from his lips.

Fionna smiled genuinely and took his hand. She put her left hand on his shoulder and held back an uncomfortable, awkward squirm when he put his cold hand on her waist.

Marshall chuckled. "Dang Fi. Calm down. I haven't even touched you that much yet, chill." One pull from him brought her closer, leaving less than an inch of space between them.

The human girl puffed her cheeks out and blew her bangs away from her eyes. "Stop being a sick dude. Let's just do this so we're done. I think there's some pasta in my shoe and it makes me want to curl up when I step on it." A short pause then she whispered, "It's all squishy. Sorta like baked beans . . . !"

"And you would know what baked beans being stepped on feels like, how?"

"Heh . . . Let's just say that when Cake cooks beans, you really don't want to eat them." 'I'm not even sure it's food!' She recalled that one time she was certain it had given her the hairy eyeball. 'That's why mine and Beemo's beans had to go in my Mary Jane's. I think Cake noticed that I wasn't walking right . . . and also leaving a trail of brown juice behind . . .'

"Ew," He made a face. "That sounds disgusting."

They entered a comfortable silence that Fionna used to try to remember the dance steps. 'Was it up then left then right—or up, right, down—this dance is too complicated! Doesn't PG remember that I can't dance?' The memory of her dancing it up at one of his balls reminded her of what happened. Doing the robot next to a bowl of punch hadn't turned out that well. Lumpy Space Prince had floated out of the party soaked in punch and screaming about telling his lumpin' parents.

Distracted by the funny event, Fionna didn't notice when she heard a quiet grunt and Marshall's eyes shut in pain. He let out a deep, "Fionna, get off of my foot. This is the third time you've stepped on it. I think my toes have bruises on them now."

She blushed, whispered a sorry to him, and took her foot off. They went back to no talking as random thoughts popped into her mind. 'Wonder what Cake's gonna make for dinner when we get home? Does Beemo have my Boy's Night shirt? Where do boogers come from?' But again something brought her out of them.

"Fionna," it came out as a warning, "I'm telling you this last time. Watch where you're going. I don't know what you're thinking of, but try to concentrate on your feet!"

"Oops! Sorry Marshall, I'm a little distracted right now." She turned her eyes to her feet, focused on not stepping on him anymore. So far, so good. 'Why are his feet moving so fast? Or is it just me? Do I have slow reflexes? Haha no! Well . . . what if it's only when I'm dancing? Does that mean—" Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. Marshall was glaring holes into her. "Glob what's wrong with me today? I really don't mean to step on your feet! It's just—"

"Mm. No. No more talking. You're done, just shh." Marshall gripped her hand tighter and looked to his right. "Get ready to twirl Fi."

"Huh? Twirl? But I thought you were gonna do something bad to—" An embarrassing scream came from her as Marshall twirled her. At the last second, before she came back to him, he let go. Unbalanced and with nothing to grab onto to, Fionna rammed into the pink wallpapered wall. When her momentum returned, she turned back to Marshall who was just waiting, with a frown, for her. "That's not fair! I did those things on accident! You did that on purpose!"

"You can't prove anything," was his simple reply.

There was no use fighting back and she knew that. Fionna took her position again and they kept dancing. With all this grumbling and glaring at curtains behind him, she didn't realize that her feet, once again, weren't obeying her. Two inches from the floor was when she realized that she had somehow tripped over her own feet. "Ah!"

Marshall grabbed her by the waist better before she fell so she didn't hit the floor. "Are you being dumb now, or are you just naturally a clutz?"

"Haha very funny. I didn't need your help!" Her tightened grip on him as he brought her up said otherwise, though. "But . . . thanks."

"Don't mention it." The pranks on each other seemed to cease now. Fionna's head was in the crook of his neck, it was almost roman—but then Marshall ruined it! (A.N: xD Sorry I can't do that!) It was ruined when the corners of his mouth turned up into a devious smile and he said, "So, when we saw Bubba dancing first, did ya think he'd be the one holding you like this?

Fionna growled and this time 'accidently' stepped on his foot causing him to let out a whine of pain. "I'm so sorry about that! Accidents happen!"

Snickering he told her, "You're cute when you try to avoid my questions. I bet you were thinking of him, huh? And that's why you got all red?"

"Your hands are sweaty!" That was her lame attempt to make him shut up. It didn't work, not like she really expected it to. "Do you ever stop asking questions?"

"Only when people don't answer them." 'What? My hands aren't that sweaty!' By now they were past the halfway mark of the room and coming back. He twirled her; not letting her hit anything, and brought her back. "So why don't you just answer my question?"

"Maybe I don't want to, have you thought of that?" Marshall quieted down for a few seconds. She sighed in annoyance and looked at a grandfather clock used as a decoration. Five twenty-four. This had been a long day and now her feet were starting to hurt. The last twirl was slow, precious, as if it were too good to end. Then he dipped her low to the ground.

They were so close; he could feel her breath tickling his face. Marshall uttered in a husky voice, "So after this whole day, we're this close and it makes you want to do nothing? Kiss me Fi." He started leaning it.

Fionna giggled. "Oh Marsh, you silly boy." She reached into her backpack, wrapped her fingers around a Fionnacake, and brought it out; only to have it smashed against his face. "Kiss that son!"

Marshall blinked away some frosting and laughed. "I was messing with you anyways!" He let her drop to the floor, not even apologizing or offering her a hand when she fell with an 'oof!'. "I'm sorry. Was I supposed to bring you back up?" Even with that innocent cover up, Fionna could still tell he meant to do that.

"Ahh! You butt!" She kicked his leg out from under him, making him fall. They started rolling around on the floor. Playfully throwing punches and laughing.

Gumball saw this going on. "Oh come on—" He was about to stop it, but then he just smiled and laughed. "You bunch of knuckleheads." Looking down at his clipboard, he wrote some stuff. He wrote about how his hypothesis had failed but that he had learned a lot from this. That no matter how high and proper you think you are, your friends will always be there to rip you down to prove to you that you're not. Eh. More or less of the truth. He set it down and ran over to them laughing like a child. "Hey! Don't have too much fun without me!"

And done! Fww! Ugh mah back hurts from bending over the keyboard for a solid three hours. Bleh. I know it's a cheesy ending, but I've been seeing a lot of romance around this show and I just thought, 'What about every other day? What do they do on a normal basis?' And then this story was born. Thanks for all the positive reviews! That's like a lot more people who saw it then they would've if I only told my friend it! XD Bye!

-Obsessed