AN:

Let's get scandalous! Not like that. Because I know where your mind went. I meant we're finally starting to dig the skeletons out of Marshall Lee's closet! YAY! (Yay for us, anyway. Not for him…) That was corny. I'm sorry. Also, this chapter ended up being much longer than I expected, so I split it into two. That means chapter 8 next will be up tomorrow!

I made a Tumblr blog for my writing! If you want updates on my writing progress, first-look chapter previews, and information on my original works and other fanfics, check it out! The URL is GreetTheDawn. I've been posting a whole bunch since I launched it a few days ago, so have a look!

Yes, I do listen to a lot of Falling In Reverse when I'm writing this story. That being said, I would like to request that any young and impressionable youth under the age of 150 NOT look up the song mentioned in this chapter. By reading forth you are agreeing to absolve me (Dawn) of any responsibility for the theft of youthful innocence, angry parents, grounding for the listening to of inappropriate music, etc. (I get that most of y'all probably aren't fazed by stuff like language and adult themes, but Adventure Time is technically marketed as a kid show and I was like 12 and still fairly innocent when I started reading fanfics, so you never know who is looking at this. Basically I don't know if my story rating covers songs mentioned in said slightly-more-SFW story. Don't tell your parents on me, kids.) Just so we're all on the same page going forth with this chapter, the song is, simply put, an elaboration upon the thoughts of a bad boy who gets all the good girls, and they don't keep it PG. Listen at your own discretion.

DISCLAIMER: C'mon. We all know I don't own squat. Let's just stop this, mkay? No? Fine…

Here goes nothing…

It didn't take very long for me to lose interest in my makeover. I was more than fortunate to discover that this perfect girl's tastes in music and my own were similarly strange, otherwise the entire thing would have been utter torture. Well, not the entire thing. The part of my brain that was chronically monopolized by thoughts of Fionna was sickeningly pleased with the fact that the endeavor of transforming me into a member of the 'in' crowd necessitated so much physical contact.

Fionna was puzzling over what to do with my wildly untamed hair when the Falling In Reverse album we were listening to started playing Good Girls Bad Guys. I couldn't help the wry grin that crossed my face when I recognized the track. I had always thought that this song was a fair, if harsh, representation of myself. My secondary thought was panic, because I remembered that my favorite freshman was standing behind me on a chair, running her fingers through my hair, and I knew she probably thought the song was disgusting. My next reaction, however, was shock, as I suddenly realized my Fionna was singing along with every word.

"What's that look for?" she asked during the guitar solo when she noticed the confusion on my face.

I shook my head in disbelief. "I thought a girl like you would be offended by this kind of song."

She pulled my hair out of my eyes so she could catch my gaze in the mirror. Cake had done Fionna's makeup, and the sharp, shadowed look she'd given her eyes made it feel like I was being pinned to the place where I stood, even if it was just a friendly glance. "What do you mean, 'a girl like me'?"

I snorted. "You know. Perfect. That kind of girl."

"Oh, so you think I'm perfect now?" She rolled her eyes. "Sure, Marshall."

"I always thought you were perfect." I blurted without thinking. My hair fell back in front of my eyes, and there was no response.

Congratulations, Marshall Lee! You've finally done it! You've finally lost your edge! Man, if the boys back home could see you now… My mind berated me. She broke you. You knew it would happen, but you let it go on anyway. Are you proud, Marshall? Are you proud to have thrown all your hard-earned defenses away for a girl who you can never dream to be worthy of?

I honestly didn't know, anymore.

"To answer the question you didn't ask me," Fionna spoke up after a moment, reading between the lines of my every word once again. "I like this song. I do have an edgy side, you know. I just don't show it in public. Most of my friends wouldn't get it. I think you can understand that part of me better that Barry can, though, or maybe even Cake. I don't know."

I nodded. It made an odd amount of sense, particularly looking around at the fixtures in her room, like the sword above her bed and the pile of M-rated games that she happened to be very practiced at. I should have recognized it in her earlier, or at least suspected she might not be as scrupulously innocent as she seemed, but her flawless, good-girl image was really damn convincing. "Yeah, I think I can see that now."

I saw her smile in the mirror through a tiny gap in my bangs. "Mhmm. Now stop moving your head. I'm trying to fix this hopeless bed-head mess."

Some innumerable minutes, hours, or days later (I some time after acknowledged that days may have been a bit hyperbolic) I was girl-approved and ready to walk out the door.

Fionna had dressed me simply. I was wearing a plain white t-shirt that I was told would show off my defined muscles, the long sought-for pair of jeans that were a lot nicer than the rags that I myself deemed adequate, and a pair of black and white vans. My hair had been tamed and gelled into that purposefully-messy look that most girls seemed to go insane for. I still looked like myself, just a cleaner, more intentional version of myself.

My Fionna shoved me in front of the full-length mirror and stepped back to examine her masterpiece. "Dang, Marshall…" I turned to look at her. She was biting her lip and eyeing me with a look I couldn't read. "I mean, you were hot before, but this…"

I grinned slyly, flashing my teeth and narrowing my eyes like I was up to no good – a look that had opened a lot of doors for me in the past, so to speak – and I could have sworn I heard Fionna's breath catch. "Unfinished sentences must be a good sign."

She nodded fiercely and gave me a prideful grin. "Oh, believe me, they are. Now let me go get ready before I forget how to think." She then ducked into her closet and shut the door behind her, leaving me to mull greedily over her reaction my new look.

I changed the cd in the stereo from Falling In Reverse to Pearl Jam. As the intro to Even Flow began, Fionna walked back into the room. She wasn't wearing shorts and sneakers anymore. She had on a tight red skirt with a zipper up the back, a white tank-top tucked in, and flat, gold shoes.

"Are we going to a party or a football game?" I asked as she messed with her hair in the mirror and fixed her skirt. This wasn't her usual style, and she didn't look too comfortable with it, but for obvious reasons I was fond of the adjustments.

"Hey, Cake made me promise to wear it. Can we just go before I decide to cop out?"

"Sounds good to me." I grabbed my keys off her bed and led the way downstairs. Cake was waiting for us in the living room.

"Oh, girl! You look gorgeous. And I like what you did with the new kid. That's a good look for you, Marshall." She eyed me up and down, obviously pleased with what she was seeing.

"Um, Cake," Fionna muttered. She sounded annoyed. "Back off. You're married, remember?"

"Oh! That reminds me, Mo wants me at the field early. He's planning some kind of after-game prank for the coach. Needs my help. Let's go!" I was then pulled out the door by Fionna's overly enthusiastic sister and thrown at my car.

"Alright, alright, we're going." I assured her as I put the key in the door. "Calm down."

"Not possible, sugar."

The drive wasn't long. The game was being held at the field of the small state university two towns over. As soon as we got to the stadium, Catherine took off to find our team and left Fionna and me to our own devices.

I knew immediately which side of the field was ours. One set of the stands was decorated with red, white, and gold, much like Fionna's new outfit. School colors, right… Cake's insistence on her sister's wardrobe made more sense with that knowledge. I supposed my own monochromatic outfit could be viewed as too simple for such a spirited occasion, but my shirt was white, and that seemed to match, so it was good enough for me.

We were early, per Mo's request. The only people there were the players and cheerleaders from ATHS. The other team wasn't there yet. I assumed they would arrive shortly, but we had some free time.

Perfect.

"Come on," I offered her my arm. "I want to show you something."

She gave me a quizzical look, but I smiled encouragingly at her and she hooked her arm through mine. Her hand came to rest just above my wrist and I felt her fingers trace the edge of my watch as we walked. I tried not to find that distracting.

I led my Fionna past the stadium and toward the campus. I pointed out some sculptures by the art students as we got closer to that department. I told her about a crazy frat party I'd gone to last year in the dorm complex on our right. Two blocks past that, I turned and pulled her around to a side door hidden by a bit of shrubbery. The building was about four stories tall, constructed from red bricks, not modern, but not ancient either. At this hour, it was closed.

I knelt at the door and pulled my lockpicking kit out of my new jeans.

Fionna peered over my shoulder. "Since when do you have a set of professional lockpicks? How did you even get those in your pockets without me seeing? Do you always carry those?"

I smirked as I slid the tension wrench into place. Fionna, always with the important questions… Never mind that I was breaking and entering. How on Earth did I get something by her? "I'm more likely to leave the house without my wallet than these things. I have my ways." I winked at her and raked my pick through the tumblr, feeling for the individual pins. "Besides, I know how you feel breaking rules. You might have tried to confiscate them."

"Confiscate?" She sounded offended, defensive. "I'm not your mom. You can do what you want, far as I'm concerned." White lie. We both knew she'd stop me from doing something if she deemed it reckless. And that I'd let her stop me. I didn't know why, but I knew that I would. That was just one more reason why I was keeping secrets from her…

"Didn't you tell me the other day that you were a junior hall monitor in middle school?" I jabbed with a playful smile, earning myself an eye roll.

The lock finally slipped open, and I felt her flinch at my side. "What, no alarm?" she asked and gave me a puzzled glance.

I shook my head, about as surprised when my sculpted hair didn't fall into my eyes at the action like it normally would as she was by the lack of an alert system. "Not on this door." I responded, pulling it open for her.

She gave me an oddly curious look as she walked inside without hesitation. If I was being perfectly honest with myself, I knew I was becoming a horrible influence over her. The Fionna I'd met two weeks ago would never have broken into a college lecture hall with me. It was only a matter of time before Catherine or Barry or one of her friends noticed the change and convinced her to stop talking to me. That thought put a strange new weight on my chest that I didn't like, so I decided that I wouldn't be honest with myself. I was going to pretend I was good for her. I was going to tell myself that lie until she made me stop.

I led my Fionna down the all-too-familiar halls, up the stairs to the fourth floor and into the office where I'd spent both of the worst days of my life, hiding.

"Where are we?" she breathed, barely audible. She may have broken in with me willingly, but she was no less comfortable being there unauthorized than she would be walking into a bank with a concealed weapon. Even if she meant no harm, she'd have a hard time talking herself out of trouble if she got caught.

"We're not stopping here." I responded more confidently. "The rest of the doors are wired, but the windows aren't." I strode past the desk, turning a picture frame down when she wasn't looking, and fiddled with the lock on the window, saying a prayer of thanks for archaic security systems. The windows locked from the inside and nobody had ever tried to break into that particular department, so the school had put off upgrading it. The only security cameras were outside the elevators and in the entrance, so there would be no record we'd ever been in the building.

I clambered out onto the fire escape and motioned for her tho follow me as I climbed up to the roof. There wasn't much up there except a few vents and an access door, but the view of the quad to the south was unparalleled to anything else on campus, in my opinion.

I sank to the ground and leaned my head against one of the vents. Fionna appeared over the edge of the roof as I did so. The light breeze picked up small bits of her long hair, giving life to its golden waves and forcing me to rethink my earlier statement about the quad. No kind of landscaping could begin to hope to rival her for beauty.

That's it. You're done for, Marshall. Time to hand your car keys over to FP and go major in interior design or jazz dance or something like that. Theatre, perhaps.

My Fionna settled in at my side and fiddled with her skirt as she took in her surroundings. Upon reflection, she wasn't wearing the best outfit for climbing fire escapes. Her discomfort was a welcome burden for me, however, for which I almost felt guilty. Almost.

"How do you know this place so well?" she finally asked after a long moment of easy silence.

I frowned. I'd brought her up here for a reason. Now wasn't the time to balk. With a heavy sigh, I answered, "This is where my dad works. He's one of the Poli-Sci professors. I kind of grew up here."

Fionna's eyebrows raised, seemingly impressed. "I didn't know your dad was a professor. Why didn't you mention that?"

I grimaced internally. She was getting at exactly what I was trying to. My mind just kept resisting. "Because that's kind of complicated."

"Lots of things seem to be, with you," she observed.

Tentative for the first time in my life to touch a girl, I reached over and took her hand. I turned it over in mine and slowly ran my thumb down the length of her pinky to her palm while I gathered my thoughts. "I want to tell you something about myself?"

I could see her eyes widen at the edge of my vision, but I stayed focused on tracing the shape of her hand, on the feel of her skin under my fingertips.

"You're finally going to tell me what Bonnie was talking about yesterday?"

I shook my head slowly. Fingernail. Knuckle. A tiny scar. Wrist. "No. This isn't exactly a tell-all. I'm just… peeling back a few layers, to make things fair."

"'Ogres are like onions,'" she quoted, a smirk evident in the tone of her voice.

I smiled a little but otherwise ignored the comment. "I didn't tell you because it's not easy for me to talk about my parents. You deserve to know though. Since I know about yours." I looked at her then, and she looked away. She didn't like to talk about her past much more than I did mine. I could tell she still hadn't gotten over her parents' deaths. She was still bitter, still hurting. And so was I.

"My dad is on sabbatical right now. As far as the college is concerned, he's writing a new curriculum for his class, which he is doing. Sort of a Strunk & White for Political Science, I guess is his goal. But the truth is, he needed time off to cope. He thought a new town and a new house would be good for us, give us space to breathe. Room to start over… We're both pretty messed up right now. We don't really talk anymore." I paused and she looked back at me. I searched her eyes for the right way to say the next words, but I realized there wasn't a pretty put it. "My mom died eight months ago."

Fionna said nothing, just held my gaze for a few seconds, calm, before shifting from where she sat put her arms around me. I wrapped mine around her waist, pulling her against me. There was nothing weird or awkward or charged about the embrace. She knew how much this hurt me to talk about, and I could feel that she was in pain, too. We just sat there for a while, letting ourselves be comforted by each other.

AN:

The next chapter will be available tomorrow!

Also, remember to check out my tumblr blog for updates concerning this and other stories.

-Dawn