Come With Me Now
Far away I heard him say don't delay
Whoa, come with me now
- KONGOS
If this is what a 'fight' with Marshall Lee is like, then Marceline thinks it's not bad at all. He sulks off for alone time, she stays home in sweats, everyone wins.
Until the whole day passes and there's no word from him. Marceline starts to frown. What if the impossible is, in fact, really happening right now?
Day turns into ten at night.
Damn, this must be a real fight that's happening right now. Marceline doesn't dwell on that though because after spending all day searching, and finding no trace, she has to admit that
"You lost your dog?" Bubblegum echoes over the phone.
"I didn't lose-lose him," Marceline defends. "I just haven't seen him in a few weeks."
"And you just noticed."
"…"
"…"
"I guess I can put him up on those MISSING flyers along with Tony," the princess sighs.
"You da best."
"By the way, did you have anything to do with Finn at the royal ball last night?"
"What about Finn at the royal ball last night?"
Hesitantly, as if puzzled, Bubblegum says "It's just… he was really rad, you know? It's like he got older and cooler all of a sudden."
Marceline smirks. "You just noticed?"
"Shut up."
"Finn's getting kinda cute, princess, I think it's those chin hairs."
"Marceline!" Bubblegum exclaims, scandalized.
"Or maybe his gap tooth is coming in, what do you think?"
"Do not objectify young boys, you lecher."
"'Young boy'? Those legs are filling out, mmm calf muscles—"
Bubblegum hangs up. She must not be a leg girl. Marceline works on her sales pitch while waiting for dog and dude to come home.
\/\/\/\/
Marshall Lee is still gone the next day.
Now he's just being dramatic. Marceline refuses to go looking for a grown man. She goes flyering with Lumpy Space Princess instead; these MISSING posters of Tony and Schwabl won't hang themselves.
He'll be back. She can wait.
\/\/\/\/
But when she wakes up to an empty house for the third day, she's had enough. There's only one place Marshall Lee will go. Marceline brings out the sunhat and the axe bass, and flies over to Finn and Jake's.
"You justmissed him," Jake tells her upon her arrival. "He flew back to your house."
"What happened here?" Marceline has to ask because there's a gaping crater on the left side of the tree fort, right where the kitchen used to be.
"Sky pirates, man," Finn explains. "They attacked us and took us prisoner for three days."
"But we proved ourselves and won our freedom," Jake adds. "Now we're honorary pirate bros."
She looks at their sunburnt faces and the sailor rags they have on.
"It's true."
"Here check out our matching pirate tatts."
"Nah that's okay." Marceline isn't skeptical; inexplicable shenanigans happen to these two all the time. "Wild guess here: Marshall Lee got caught up in this pirate stuff?"
"Yeah, he was pretty cranky the whole time," Finn replies. "I dunno Jake, I had fun. You?"
"Yeah dude, it was pretty rad once we got outta swab duty," Jake agrees. "Yo Marceline, you're gonna dig Marshall Lee's eye patch."
Well, that explains where he's been the past three days. Marceline isn't even surprised anymore at the randomness that goes on in this world. Shit happens.
"Which way did he take?" she asks. Jake beams.
"Over swampland yonder. Go get him, girlfriend."
"Yeah, yeah."
She takes off. She'll tease Finn about Bubblegum later, much later after she and Marshall Lee reconcile their differences in a mature fashion probably. Marceline isn't sure how making up will go. She's actually not sure what the big deal was in the first place. But knowing he's running back to her place first thing, pirate rags and all, makes her grin. Marceline returns to her cave by sunset.
She sees smoke billowing from the mouth of it.
What the..?
She soars down into the cave, not trying to rush to assumptions but the principle Shit happens comes to mind immediately.
She sees her house completely up in flames.
"THIS SHIT IS NOT HAPPENING."
Marceline crashes through her front door with expletives and a kick. Black smoke is everywhere; heat makes her eyes water. She bats the flames off with her hat not that that helps. The flames sting.
How? Why? Who?
In this moment the belongings that she wants to save most should be clearly obvious but… as she's taking in the sight and the feel of her instruments, antiques, and vintage collections, all burning around her… Marceline is at a sudden loss. All these things matter. Each were kept for a reason.
Then her feet start moving to the stairs for Hambo.
Pieces of ceiling crumble. There are no stairs left. Then through the smoke, Marshall Lee appears. She's reaching for him wide-eyed, he has her by the shoulders, the sunhat slips from her fingers. He drags her out the door, away from the searing heat and the smoke but the scent of burning fills the air.
"Marcy." He's talking to her. "Marcy. It's gone"
She notices herself still floating for the stairs, going for Hambo, despite the arm around her waist. Marceline stops moving. Slowly, bit by bit, her house gives way before her eyes. First the rafters, next the walls. There goes the chimney. The fires mount, out of control. They end up watching from the mouth of the cave with black smoke billowing out into the sky, and no 911 call or mach-speed fire truck is going to save this house or its contents. Hambo is far gone.
"Marcy," Marshall Lee says again. He pries her hand open and takes her bass; she'd gripped tightly enough to etch grooves on her palm.
Marceline looks at him. "You're okay."
He stares back, still holding her shoulder. "Are you?"
Nothing makes sense. Her gut suddenly weighs like lead. Marceline takes in the sight of Marshall Lee's singed face and attire and thinks he looks like a shipwreck survivor. He reeks of smoke, too. She lets her forehead drop on his shoulder with a heavy groan.
He's here.
"Fuck, man."
His free arm is a consoling weight that goes around her, pulling her in.
"I had all the Monty Pythons."
Marshall Lee sighs with her.
"That couch was brand new, too."
Flipping out and frantic questions can wait for a minute. Right now, another of those moments of silence pass between them and it's not just for the couch or the tapes.
"Sorry, babe." Marshall Lee rubs her bicep. She grumbles inaudibly, face still buried in his burlap pirate-slave shirt. Is it messed up that, in the back of her mind, she thinks at least he's back now?
He lets go of her. Before she whines though, he's pressing something soft and familiar between them. Marceline looks down.
"Hambo," she croaks. And there it is in her hands, her raggedy old teddy bear that doesn't even look like a bear anymore, singed but not ash. She hugs Hambo immediately and somehow, her house burning down is far less numbing than it was just a moment ago.
It probably is messed up to decide that a toy, a bass, and Marshall Lee are all she needs intact in the event of a fire.
"Only thing I could grab," Marshall Lee says apologetically.
"You're awesome," Marceline replies in earnest.
Behind them, sections of her house topple loudly into the lagoon beyond. The fumes grow intolerable. Marshall Lee pulls on her hand. "Let's get out of here."
She leaves that house behind with one more glance (it's her favorite one to date, now that she thinks about it). Some pretty radical things happened in there, after all, especially in the last couple of months.
Then they're out in the evening air, and even this small distance can make room for perspective.
How? Why? Who?
Marshall Lee leads but he doesn't need to tell her where they're headed. They talk as they go.
\/\/\/\/
What happened was this:
Marshall Lee flew back to her house after the sky-pirate incident. It sounds like plain bad luck, to be honest, that they got commandeered for three days by peg-legged ruffians on a flying ship.
He turned on the lights and found Scorcher in the living room.
And in that frenzied blur of darting away from fireballs and flays, running from that giant figure that cut off every turn, Marshall Lee came across the very same pepper spray she gave him months ago – that one time he worried about rape.
In a fortuitous turn of events, it turns out that the invincible Scorcher's weakness was pepper spray to the face. He turned into ash. Even villains like him get undignified endings after all. And that that's how Marshall Lee survived his first encounter with an S-ranked hired assassin – but not before the entire house caught on fire.
"That's messed up!" Finn exclaims.
"Who'd wanna put a hit on Marshall Lee?" Jake asks incredulously.
Marshall Lee shrugs. Marceline sips red tea. This isn't the first time they've sought refuge at the tree fort. The four of them are gathered on the ledge of what's left of the kitchen, and if it's a bit drafty in here, it's only because there are no longer walls or ceiling.
Today was a bad day for homeowners.
"You guys can totally stay here, we have like a bajillion rooms," Finn tells them. "Don't worry about Scorcher, Marceline. We're on the case."
"We'll go investigate the scene of the crime," Jake assures.
Marceline admires their heroic bravado and all, but "You guys, it's dark outside."
"Justice never sleeps," the heroes tell her solemnly, and they gear up with flashlights and notepads.
"Okayyy, but you're still dressed like hobo pirates," she reminds them.
"Yeah we are," they beam, and even Marshall Lee tiredly joins in the three-way fistbump. She'll have to ask later what kind of bonding went down on that pirate ship.
"Dibs on the bed," Marceline says.
"Dibs on the shower," Marshall Lee yawns.
"Later you two," Jake holds up a hand as they go. "We'll be back in three-maybe-four hours!"
Finn is puzzled. "We are?"
The heroes go out the front door, casually talking about late-night food runs afterwards and how long those would take approximately. Marceline thinks Jake does not need to wink. Beside her, Marshall Lee snores. She turns to find him faceplanking on the kitchen table, Ice King-style. He won't have dibs on the shower after all.
\/\/\/\/
The thing about crashing at the tree fort is that Finn and Jake don't have normal beds. Not a one. Jake sleeps in a drawer, for Globssakes, and Finn in a rowboat. The bunk bed on the third floor is most appealing, and the lower bunk is where she deposits Marshall Lee who snores on in bliss.
Is it technically nonconsensual if she goes ahead and spoons his unconscious body?
Marceline invites herself under the sheets anyway. She leaves her bass on the floor and Hambo stays in her hands. Twin beds are a pain to sleep on, you can't even roll over, but this is cramped space okay. She doesn't mind the smell of smoke and burnt wood that clings to his (rags) shirt. If anything, the feel of him is comforting.
Eventually, Marshall Lee stirs at last.
"Did you… carry me upstairs?" he asks, and in the dark she can see bleary eyes turn to meet hers.
"Bridal style, boo," Marceline grins smugly.
"Wifey," Marshall Lee declares. He flips over and his arm is around her, and nonconsensual is probably something they won't ever worry about.
"You'll squish Hambo."
"I miss you. Hambo gets it."
He drops the simplest lines at the most ordinary times. Marceline has grown attuned to the little things.
"You're pretty chipper for someone who just had a hit pulled on him," Marceline points out.
"You are too, for someone who just lost all her stuff in a fire," Marshall Lee replies. She supposes his being here has to do with that.
"Are we still fighting?"
"We were fighting?"
Marceline wonders why she ever thought they were in the first place. Marshall Lee mutters "Grod. I'm tired."
"I didn't mean to diss your spaceship the other night," Marceline says quietly, and means it. They lapse into that comfortable silence that only happens around him.
"You dissed the RDIS?" Marshall Lee asks curiously.
Marceline realizes her error too late.
"… I gotta shower," Marshall Lee says, voice suddenly curt, and gets up and gets away from her.
"Wait!" Marceline grabs the ends of his shirt. "I didn't mean it."
Momentarily held, Marshall Lee retorts "You think my way is stupid."
"Nuh uh," she replies too quickly.
Marshall Lee is genuinely offended. He rolls his eyes and pulls out of her grasp. Grod, she hates his habit of walking away from whatever displeases him – even if it's her. So Marceline tackles the little jerk to floor. They land with a heavy THUMP.
"What are you doing!" Marshall Lee snaps but she has him face down in an arm lock.
Irritated Marceline is not to be trifled with. "Running away is for pussies!"
"Who's running!"
"Shut up so I can apologize."
He grunts under the weight of her sitting on his back. "You suck at this."
Her grip on his wrists may indicate otherwise, but Marceline is sincerely apologetic when she says "I'm sorry I tried to conspire with my wizard ex-boyfriend behind your back and I swear not to mess with your science project ever again, science rules."
Marshall Lee stops squirming.
"Did I get everything?" Marceline asks.
"Almost." He looks up at her from the corner of one eye. "Go to work with me."
She quickly answers "No way, man."
"That's the only way you can un-hurt my feels."
"You just want me to gofer. And I already went once, remember?" She doesn't add and it was boring as hell, I cried on the inside.
"Marcy. I'm serious."
"Marshall. Not happening."
Her grip tightens. He tenses underneath her. Eyes narrow. He throws her off. And then the next few moments turn into real-life reenactment of Wrestlemania that ends in Marshall Lee back on the floor, stuck in a camel-clutch. Why use words when this is their proven form of mediation?
"Tap out, amateur!" Marceline cackles. Then Marshall Lee rolls over and pin her down, and this becomes one of the rare times where she does not get the satisfaction of making him her bitch.
"You look good like this." She can't see from down here on the floor but he's surely smug.
"Where are those thoughts going, pervert."
"Do it," Marshall Lee insists.
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
Someone gasps and it's neither of them. Marshall Lee freezes. Marceline quickly looks to the doorway. She knows those boot-clad feet and stubby-but-getting-muscular legs and, straining, her sights set upon Finn's wide-eyed, shock-ridden face. The adventurer-hero-detectives are back.
Finn sputters. "Bu… buh…"
They disengage hastily. Marceline says "This isn't what it looks like—"
But Finn already topples backwards in a dead faint. They float over at once. As she hovers guiltily over the unconscious body, Marceline recognizes the book held in Finn's petrified hands. It should've been burnt to ash by now along with the rest of her house, but here it is.
Fifty Shades of Grey.
\/\/\/\/
Finn and Jake recovered three things from the house fire: 50 Shades from Ice King, the late Scorcher's fireproof fanny-pack, and the invitation to the 27th Centennial Vampiric Council. Marceline looks upon these three things laid upon the coffee table, and wonders how they're connected, and wishes it were her drum sets that survived immolation instead.
"Nah, this book ain't connected to the hit," Jake explains. "It's just really cool cuz it's the Enchiridion II from our world. That's why it's magically not burnt."
"Yeah right," Marceline eyes the book skeptically from the couch. "That's just some dumb souvenir that Ice King got me from… wherever it was he went to."
"Girl, you didn't even open it!"
"Hey, it looked really bad!"
Marshall Lee picks up 50 Shades and peels the grey paper jacket. It drops to the floor, revealing the book's glorious, intricate bindings underneath. He reads, "How to Make Your Unconconscious Ex-Girlfriend Fall Back In Love With… yeah this is the one."
"No wonder nobody found the Enchiridion II for a zillion years," Jake muses. "All this time, it's been disguised as obscure literature that nobody reads anymore."
"Genius," Marshall Lee concurs.
"Do you guys realize what this means?"
"Matching coasters?"
Jake whips out mojitos and the other Enchiridion II from his magic-storage-stomach-pouch, and side by side, the two matching magic books make excellent coasters indeed. Now they can drink and drive this investigation forward. Marceline opens Scorcher's ridiculously heavy fanny pack.
"In a way, you're robbing a dead guy," Marshall Lee says.
"Check out Scorcher's hit contract," Jake says.
Marceline digs through miscellaneous weaponry until her fingers find rough parchment. She unfurls the contract, skims through it, and recognizes several names. First is her own. Second is the signature of a certain vampire whom she hasn't thought of in a long time.
It takes a second. Then everything clicks. Through gritted teeth Marceline whispers, "You stank-ass hoe."
That woman went and pulled a hit on her. How about that.
"What?" Marshall Lee peers over her shoulder. "You mean Jenny?"
"This letter smells like that hit contract too." Jake holds up the council invitation. "It smells like—"
"Candles," Marceline says, more to herself than to anyone. "She smells like candles."
She wasn't alone in this.
"Marceline, do you realize what this means?" Jake asks.
"Sure do, Jake," Marceline replies grimly.
Marshall Lee looks at the two of them, nonplussed. "What? What's happening?"
"That hit wasn't for you, bro," Jake pats his shoulder. "It was for Marceline."
"Who..?"
"It's around that time again," Marceline says, more irritated than distressed. Marshall Lee sees her grimace and gets it immediately.
"Ohh."
"Yeah, man," Jake shakes his head and his glass. "Some vampire chick wanted to rob Marceline."
"What… no, dog, my ex-husband's sister wants me dead," Marceline rolls her eyes. Knowing her, some other vampire big shot is in on this too. She glances at that incriminating signature one more time, and tosses the contract away.
"Ohh."
Here they go again, as it goes every few decades. There's always that one guy, or two, or three, who wants the throne and that's just how vampire politics – any politics, really– go. Marceline is overdue for conspiracies. But this chick is different.
"She's probably just trying to mess with my head," Marceline decides. "They know I'm final boss-level unkillable."
"What are you gonna do?" Jake asks. "You can't let this slide."
Except she does, and has, for the past couple centuries. The attempts have always been laughable at best and infrequent enough to be mere inconvenience – like junk mail or something.
But this time her favorite house and all her Monty Pythons got burnt in a fire.
"Damn right I won't," Marceline says firmly. "I am so gonna get her ass back."
"Wanna call the police?" Jake asks.
Marceline shakes her head. "Nah. She'd eat the police."
"Egg her house then."
"TP her house."
"Set her up with Ice King."
"There are other fates worse than death," Jake says solemnly. They toast. All three mojito-filled glasses chink together.
"To getting even."
"And staying classy."
And so they drink to the demise of Marceline's enemies. They get into some really devious payback suggestions, actually, until a small voice coughs from the stairs.
"Finn is awake," BMO declares. "He is shaking with PTSD."
Jake slides off his recliner. "I'll go check on him."
"Wait," Marceline quickly says.
"We'll do it," Marshall Lee adds.
"Okaaay," Jake eyes the two of them. "Did Finn walk in on you guys or something? Is that why he fainted?"
"Bro," Marshall Lee exclaims. "I would never under your roof."
"Bro," Jake says and they do some kind of funky pirate arm-shake. "It's okay bro. You gotta go with the flow."
"Break it up, sheesh." Marceline rolls her eyes again and takes the taller bro away. She really should ask what kind of excess male bonding went down in that pirate ship. What's bothering her more right now, though, is
"Was Finn about to say butt sex earlier?"
Marshall Lee scratches his neck. "Ehh maybe. How much does Finn even know about tiers anyway?"
"Don't ask me, I'mnot a teenage boy halfway outta puberty."
"Don't look at me, I woke up sex on a stick." He catches her expression and quickly adds "And then I met you, now I don't even think about—"
Marceline casually throws out "Woow, bummer, cuz I do."
He can't do much besides correct his gaping mouth and affronted expression because they're here, right outside Finn and Jake's bedroom door. Marceline knocks without breaking eye contact or smug grin. She opens the door.
Finn sits on his rowboat-bed, rocking with his arms around his knees and staring blindly into empty space.
BMO wasn't wrong about the PTSD thing. They approach the trauma victim carefully.
"Hey, Finn."
"Hey, buddy."
Finn is whispering some mantra under his breath. They settle on either edge of Finn's bed and Marceline realizes he's saying "Bu… bu…"
Marshall Lee catches her eye over Finn's white hat. "Listen, Finn…"
Marceline says "That wasn't what it looked like" but Marshall Lee says "When a man and a woman love each other"
There is no recovering Finn's innocence but it's about time he started thinking these things anyway, repressed hormones are never a good thing.
"Bu… bu…"
It seems that Finn is too lost in traumatizing thought to talk about tiers right now.
"Bu… uhh…"
"Bubblegum?" Marceline guesses wildly.
The spell is broken. Finn stops rocking and blinks wildly. "Huh? What?"
"You were thinking about Princess Bubblegum?" Marshall Lee asks. Finn's cheeks redden swiftly with a youthful glow. Oh man, he is so in for that slippery slide from weird thoughts to tissues to
"Listen, Finn," Marshall Lee tries again. "Some people use amateur wrestling to solve their arguments instead of words."
"That was seriously wrestling that you saw back there," Marceline adds. "Not—"
"Yeah I know," Finn replies. He's rapidly looking normal again—except for those blushing baby-cheeks.
Marceline is puzzled. "Why'd you faint, then?"
Finn looks pretty confounded himself. "I dunno…I saw you guys wrestling but it just looked really weird for some reason."
"Like good weird or bad weird?" Marshall Lee asks. He's too far away to elbow.
"I dunno man," Finn repeats. His blonde brows knit together. "But I thought about wrestling Princess Bubblegum all of a sudden and it was crazy vivid."
"So you fainted," Marceline nods encouragingly. She doesn't dare look at Marshall Lee.
"And when I woke up it was still there. Like my brain was stuck on replay or something. Weird."
"No, not weird," Marshall Lee interjects. "Wrestling is normal and healthy and nothing to be ashamed of, Finn."
"Oh. Okay."
"Yeah."
They take turns patting the boy's hatted head. Finn looks visibly relieved. The blush is gone.
"Hey, do you guys think..?" Finn trails off.
"You can totally take her on," Marshall Lee nods.
"She's stronger than she looks," Marceline shakes her head.
"Oh." Then it's back to hero business with this guy. "Oh hey, Marceline, we found—"
"Jake told us," Marceline interrupts. "We know. You take it easy, man."
"You're gonna need hero-bodyguards, Marceline."
"Yeah, yeah, protect me. Knock yourselves out."
They leave Finn to his thoughts again. Marceline makes it to the elevator before her poker face breaks.
"Oh Grod."
"They grow up so fast."
It's the beginning of the end of guileless, pre-pubescent Finn.
"You know," Marshall Lee says later, when they're back on the lower bunk bed. "Finn still probably doesn't know squat about Tiers 3 and over."
Marceline shrugs. "That's okay. We'll be here to back Jake up. I'm homeless now, remember?"
"Right. I keep forgetting, that was so ten hours ago."
This room is pitch black but she knows his eyes are closed. Marceline asks anyway.
"You really don't think about doing sex stuff with me?"
Marshall Lee snorts. "Marcy. I'd jump you if you asked me to."
"I knew it."
"I'm not stressing. You?"
"Nah."
Marceline closes her eyes. Forgetting about politics and homelessness is easy. She can deal with the 99 problems they entail tomorrow. But then one last, free-floating thought wakes her up. She curses under her breath.
"Dammit. The dog's still missing."
\/\/\/\/
Living with Finn and Jake isn't all that different from her previous lifestyle. The heroes go off on their hero-business, Marshall Lee goes to the lab. Marceline does her own thing which consists of finding Schwabl, a new house, and the perfect way to wreak vengeance upon that woman.
She tries not to think about Monty Python and her song diary and everything else that's gone forever. Possessions are just that, after all.
The matching Enchiridion-coasters are always put to good use.
"Hey Marshall Lee," Finn says one night over tacos. "We got the two most powerful spellbooks in the world ever, dude. Why don't you just ask a wizard to—"
Marceline shoots a warning look.
"—suck it, science rules magic drools," the boy concludes.
Marshall Lee turns to her. "See? Finn gets it."
"What's Aaa like?" Jake asks.
"Exactly like Ooo, actually."
"What's babe-Jake like?"
"A cat."
Jake's face falls. "Aww what?"
"Yeah. She slaps me when I hit on babe-Finn."
Finn chokes. Something blue crashes through a window.
"Did someone mention Fionna and Cake?!" Ice King shouts excitedly, notepad and ink pen at hand. "Tell me about Fionna and Ca—oh hey Marceline, sorry you're a homeless bum now."
"Shut up Ice King," Marceline replies. The old fart squeezes into the sofa between her and Marshall Lee anyway. He waggles bushy white eyebrows.
"I bet that Ice Queen is a total babe, huh? Amirite?"
Marceline glances at Finn and Jake. "You're not gonna kick him out?"
Finn shrugs. "Eh. It's taco night."
Jake asks "What do you guys do for fun over there?" and the rest of taco night is accompanied by Q&A, Land of Aaa edition.
"Hurry up and make that spaceship, will ya?" Ice King tells Marshal Lee.
"I cannot wait to meet myself," BMO sighs.
Everyone agrees that meeting their genderbent selves would be highly radical indeed.
"But wait! Plot twist!" Ice King waves his arms.
"What if we all started dating our counterparts? Ooh, shocker, I feel goosebumps."
\/\/\/\/
Days go by, and the 27th Centennial Vampiric Council draws near. Marceline is suddenly gripped with an idea that's so appealing and so unlike what she'd normally do. There are surely other ways to get even with that woman and those unidentified councilmembers.
But the idea won't leave her head. She really, really wants to do it for some reason. The thought plagues her day and night and even during one of Finn and Jake's random quests that she often gets sucked into.
And then all that's left for her to do is actually go for it.
Marceline finds herself signing RSVP on the invitation letter, with a note that says I'll kick your asses. She sends it by bat, not post.
This just might be similar to Marshall Lee's obsession with building the RDIS.
"Hey," Marshall Lee greets her down the hallway. "I heard you guys saved Breakfast Prince— whoa."
Marceline grabs his wrist and takes him up to the rooftop. Here, she tells him
"I'm gonna go to the vampire council."
He stares at her for a minute. He knows she hasn't gone in centuries. The both of them avoid politics, and meetings are for squares. But of course Marshall Lee can board her train of thought.
"I'm down," he grins. "Let's go fuck shit up."
Now it's Marceline's turn to stare. "But the RDIS."
"It's not going anywhere. Me neither, to be totally honest."
"But your bass."
Marshall Lee does not do touching spiels, not even under a starry night sky at 1 a.m. He shrugs. "I know."
"It might take long. I might have to do paperwork."
"I know."
So she leaves Finn and Jake a brief message on BMO: Heeey guys, we're gonna go out for bit but we'll be back, peace out. (It won't do to have them run after her to the Vampire Kingdom, nobly fulfilling bodyguard duty). She also leaves one for Bubblegum to gloat: Heeey Bonnie I'm stealing your assistant again, we are so up to no good, peace out. Hambo is tucked in with care on the bottom bunk. As for Schwabl,
"He's kind of dead already, what's the worst that could happen?" Marshall Lee points out.
Marceline takes her axe bass and all that's left to do is head up north.
She wonders what the elders will say when she shows up with Marshall Lee. She wonders what Marshall Lee will think when—if—they run into that woman.
"Hey Marcy," Marshall Lee says. The kitchen is still unboarded and the breeze remains strong. "What was his name?"
"Whose name?"
She must've been seeing things in the dark. Marshall Lee steps into better lighting with that wry face again.
"Nevermind. I don't care."
They step off the edge of broken floorboards and head north.
\/\/\/\/
A/N: In retrospect, the overarching theme of this fic appears to be 'shit happens, gotta roll wit it'. Recap:
- Unnamed vampire villains hire Scorcher to assassinate Marceline
- Scorcher burns down Marceline's house. #hobostatus
- Marceline and Marshall Lee go to the Vampire Kingdom to confront unnamed vampire villains in a classy but effective way. #Marcelee'sExcellentAdventure
- Meanwhile Finn battles puberty.
s/n: I wanted to wrap up the storyline in Ooo before fall semester starts and here we are. It'll probably take me a year at least to finish the Aaa story. xD sorry guys, I don't write as quickly as I used to.
Just know that Ooo and Aaa will end up connected somehow, and that I look forward to writing that plot twist next chapter. Peace out
right after I give thanks to those reviews. Much appreciated.
underneonlights: Good for you. Patience is my weakness haha.
samuraishadowpuppy: Yoo Hunson was my favorite thing to write that chapter
Doctor: I bend emotions jsyk
KC: Ye-yeaaah.
makoto: Arguments are perfectly normal and healthy and nothing to be ashamed of. xD
XoX-Sugar Quill and Ink-XoX: Much respect for you and boo and long-distance. No worries on the regular reviews, I'm just glad whenever someone takes time to drop one. As for characterization, I'm around this kind of jargon 24/7, so... I'd have to give that one to the homies lol.
RusherMushroom: Daddy's blessing is a beautiful thing.
makoto: I haven't been watching AT lately, I missed that :/ LSP screentime is always good screentime doe.
Monkey: Noice. I want vacations too.
bangitrealgood: Life is
Kenneth: *O*
Makoto: Damn girl I can't keep up so much reviews, don't stop xD I may ship PB/PG way, way in the future. Right now they're many chapters from meeting lol.
OreosGoRawr: Heey you found it haha. Hope you like.