"So… do you want to tell me why you'll come out of your weird study trance for Marceline and not for me?"
Bonnie should've known the question was coming. She should've expected it the moment Lady arrived over citing Bonnie's need to get out of the house or see someone. Bonnie mentioned she'd seen Marceline, so she hadn't been totally antisocial, and then Lady had gotten that look on her face.
Bonnie busied herself with making a cup of tea. She flicked the kettle on, hoping that the loud noise would delay the inevitable.
"Hey," Lady called over the noise, "I'm talking to you."
"Do you want some tea?" Bonnie asked, ignoring Lady's original question all together. "It's real Yorkshire tea. My uncle keeps buying it online despite the extortionate prices, because you can't get a good cup of tea anywhere in this country."
"Sure, whatever," Lady brushed off her offer, "I asked you a question."
"I don't know what you want me to tell you," Bonnie shrugged, keeping her demeanour casual, like she had no idea what Lady was angling at. In reality, she knew all too well. "Because there's nothing to tell."
Lady scoffed, and Bonnie peacefully ignored her while she made the tea. As she was crossing over to the fridge for milk, humming the Slow Dance song Marceline had sung for her at prom, Lady grabbed her by the arm. "Do you like her?"
"Of course I like her, she's my best friend," Bonnie shrugged, and when Lady looked rather offended, she added, "besides Bubba and you."
"You know how I meant," Lady retorted, taking the offered mug of tea, "do you have feelings for her?"
Bonnie knew she was pushing her luck when she shrugged and replied, "Feelings of friendship."
She passed Lady to head into the living room. Uncle Peter was out buying a new piano; they'd sold his old one before the big move and he'd never gotten around to replacing it. When she'd mentioned that to Marceline over text, the only thing the older girl said in response was tell him to buy you a bigger bed too. Bonnie had blushed when she read it, even though she knew Marceline didn't mean it in that way. She'd texted in the first place as a way to tempt Marceline over again at some point; she assumed a piano would be a decent selling point for the musician.
She sat down on the sofa and got herself comfortable. Lady wasn't too far behind her, and when she dropped down next to her, she looked serious. "Listen, Bonnie, I'm not dumb and it's pretty obvious that you like her. As more than a friend, before you make up some other way to phrase it. I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about."
"Okay, honestly? Completely, totally, honestly?" Bonnie prefaced, and when Lady looked like she'd just made the biggest breakthrough, she smirked. "I have absolutely no idea what you mean."
Lady let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh my god, Bonnibel."
She laughed, but on a serious note, asked, "What makes you think that, though? Not that you're correct, but why?"
"Well, she somehow managed to snap you out of your study trance for one," Lady said, "when you wouldn't listen to anyone else."
"Doesn't count, Bubba always managed to get me to stop," Bonnie shrugged, though she had to admit that he usually nipped her crazy in the bud, rather than letting it happen. If he saw she was getting obsessive, he would pry her away from work. "Anything else?"
Lady smiled smugly. "You were staring at her basically the entire night at prom."
"She's a talented musician," Bonnie reasoned, "next?"
"You're always hanging out with her or texting her," Lady said, "when you get all antisocial with the rest of your friends."
"Maybe because she's always hanging out with or texting me," Bonnie replied, and she didn't know if she was being a little petty when she added, "those things go both ways."
Lady looked like she was about to lay down her victory. "Your whole face lights up when you see her. You're always smiling at her, and frankly, she's the same with you, which is weird, because I don't think I'd ever seen her smile before. Then you come along and she's grinning all the time."
She's got a point, Bonnie had to admit. She'd spent most of her first few months here thinking Marceline was the grumpiest, non-smiliest person to ever walk the face of the earth, but then they'd formed a friendship and her opinion had taken a 180 degree turn. "I smile at her because she's my friend."
"Oh my god," Lady rolled her eyes, "I could catch you two making out and you'd probably say it's because you're friends."
"Probably," Bonnie agreed, and when Lady spluttered in surprise, she switched the television on, "so, what do you want to watch?"
"You're just going to say that and then…" Lady trailed off, shaking her head, "unbelievable, Butler. You're unbelievable."
Bonnie raised her eyebrows. "Are you going to answer my question, or…?"
"Just put Friends on or something, I'm going to drag you outside to see some other humans in a little while." Lady sighed dramatically, "I know I'm right, Bonnie."
Bonnie just laughed quietly to herself, "You can think whatever you want to think."
"Okay, I think that you have a crush on Marceline," Lady retorted, "I think you've got a crush on her and you're not telling me because you think I don't approve or something. And maybe I wouldn't, if I hadn't heard how worried she was when I told her about your weird study breakdown."
Bonnie couldn't resist. Still not admitting anything, she asked, "She was worried?"
"Yeah," Lady said, "and she said she cared about you."
Bonnie's stomach fluttered, "Oh."
"You like her," Lady accused again, "I'll get you to admit it eventually."
Bonnie shrugged. "I already told you I like her. She's my friend."
Lady rolled her eyes, "You know what I meant, Bonnie."
"Like I said," Bonnie replied, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Marceline listened carefully to the high E string on the guitar she was tuning. That was the fun part about being at work, playing all of the expensive guitars under the guise of just making sure they're tuned. If her focus hadn't been on a certain someone else, she'd probably be crushing on the guitar in her hands. Cherry red Gibson Les Paul Classic with a $1500 price tag.
"Sexy, right?" Keila grinned from where she was sat at the piano stool. The store's open sign had mysteriously flipped over to closed since it was just the two of them and a lunch break seemed fitting. "She'd match your bass."
"Yeah, shame I don't have $1500 laying around," Marceline retorted, her hands betraying her feelings by playing the Paper Rings chord progression. "If only I was rich."
Keila shrugged easily, pausing to eat a bite of her sandwich, "You will be when we're rockstars. Then you can have all the guitars you want. That's the excuse I'll be using with my mom. The I need this many for all the different tunings excuse is kind of failing at the moment. You know she refused to let me buy a new one with my own money?"
Marceline raised her eyebrows, "How much was it, exactly?"
"Only $2000," Keila shrugged like that wasn't expensive at all, "she kept talking about how I need money for college. Like I'm going."
She accompanied that last part with an eye roll, and Marceline had to agree. Not that her dad had any idea she didn't plan on going to college. She could imagine how painful telling him that would be. No, she was just going to disappear in a puff of smoke the day after graduation. With Keila and the rest of her band. That's why working and making money was so important. Save up as much as she could.
She thought about Bonnie again and frowned. There was no question; Bonnibel would be going to college. Not even that, Bonnie would be one of those ones that did post-grad study until she was the highest level of qualified anyone could ever be. But maybe Marceline could sway her towards L.A.
Why are you even thinking about that? Marceline inwardly berated herself. It's not like she's your girlfriend or anything. Just friends. And that's how it'll stay. She's too good for you.
"Everything okay over there?" Keila asked her, and Marceline blinked in surprise. "You got all spacey. What's up?"
"Just thinking," Marceline shrugged, because telling someone she maybe had a crush on Bonnibel would just make it more real. Even Keila, who knew everything about her, except that one thing nobody knew. She steered away from the topic completely, "Ash texted me."
Keila's smile dropped and she shook her head. "Nope. Don't you dare reply. He's a douche. He's like, king of the douches."
"I know that. I'm not going to." Marceline said, because that was a bad road to go down. One she never should've gone down in the first place. "It was just some comment about how I was taking a while to – quote – go crawling back to him. Blocked his number. Should've done it in the first place."
Keila grinned. "Should I be praying and giving my thanks to our lord and saviour, Bonnie? I love that girl for knocking some sense into you. Have you seen her since school finished?"
"Yeah," Marceline said, plucking at the guitar's strings absently, "I went over the other day. We made pizza. I told her about mom."
"Oh," Keila raised her eyebrows, "really? Damn."
"She asked," Marceline twisted the ring on her finger, "I guess it's kind of heavy, but she made me feel okay about it. She gives good hugs."
"Not as good as me," Keila jumped up from the piano bench and said, "put the guitar down, I'm coming in."
Marceline smiled and put the guitar out of Keila's line of fire. Her best friend pounced, wrapping her arms around her. Marceline hugged her back, trying to ignore the dull ache from the pressure on the bruise on her left shoulder.
When Keila pulled away, she flashed her the usual grin, "You better not be replacing me. If you're going to run off and get matching tattoos with anyone, it's me. Got it?"
"Matching tattoos?" Marceline raised her eyebrows. "Really?"
Keila smirked. "I actually have some ideas if you're into it. And it's not like you don't have a fake ID ready and waiting and a tattoo artist you've been to before."
Unconsciously, Marceline traced the cursive lettering on the tattoo up the side of her wrist. "Okay. Maybe I'd be down."
"Hell yeah," Keila said, "but while I let the idea mull over in your head, I am in the mood to get another piercing."
Marceline laughed. "Do you ever slow down?"
"You've known me for how long now? No way." Keila retorted, "Anyway, I guess we should open up the store again, that guy has been hanging around out there for like fifteen minutes."
As Keila turned to open up the door and flip the sign again, Marceline called out, "Hey, Keila, you know I could never replace you, right?"
Keila turned around with a smile. "Yeah, I know. I'm just that amazing. Now, get back to work, you slacker."
Marceline grabbed the guitar again with a smile.
"Sup, nerd," Bonnie's bedroom door opened, and she found a smile slipped onto her face quite easily. "What are we doing today?"
"I was going to do some science work," Bonnie sent Marceline an amused grin, "don't know what you were planning on doing."
"Annoying you until you pay attention to me, probably," Marceline shrugged and flopped down on her bed. For someone who constantly complained about how tiny it was, she spent most of her time laid out comfortably on it. "So… you might as well give up on the science now and hang out with me. We both know I'll win."
"I suppose I could take a quick snack break," Bonnie reasoned, knowing full well that the rest of the day would encapsulate said snack break. "I fancy a crumpet."
Marceline raised her eyebrows. "Thought you said you didn't like crumpets."
She remembered that? Bonnie thought frantically. How the hell? We actively disliked each other when I said that. She thought back to what Peter had said again, as she had in practically every free moment of thinking time. Maybe he could've been right. Or maybe Marceline was just attentive.
"I'm impressed you remembered that, but no, I love them." Bonnie admitted, "I said I didn't because you were being a big meanie and you never would've let me hear the end of it."
"Probably not." Marceline chuckled to herself, and mimicking Bonnie's accent, said, "Are we going to have a spot of tea and some crumpets, my dear?"
"See? Exactly like that," Bonnie rolled her eyes, but grabbed Marceline by the wrist and pulled her towards the kitchen, "I'm making you try one, maybe then you'll shut up about it. They're good."
"Nothing called a crumpet could ever be good," Marceline deadpanned, and went back to mimicking her accent when she asked, "will we be having tea with this afternoon delicacy, my lady?"
Bonnie tried giving her a taste of her own medicine and put on her best American accent, responding, "Yeah, totally, dude."
Marceline burst out laughing as Bonnie let go of her wrist to grab two crumpets and put them in the toaster. "Oh my god, that was so cute."
Bonnie hid her blush excellently by reaching into the fridge to get the butter out. "Shut up."
"Make me," Marceline stuck her tongue out as she pushed herself up onto the counter. Another 'is she flirting?' popped into Bonnie's brain. Make me. That was when you were supposed to kiss the girl to shut her up, according to every piece of media that Bonnibel had ever consumed. Make me was the pinnacle of flirting.
Or maybe it was just a joke.
Instead, she grabbed Marceline by the arm and pulled her off the counter, "Kitchen counters are for food, not people."
"Damn, you've got some pretty strict rules here at the palace," Marceline laughed, "are your guards gonna come in and take me to the dungeon?"
"They will if you keep being an arse," Bonnie said, and then realised which word she used and quickly clamped a hand over Marceline's mouth, "don't start."
Marceline licked her hand and Bonnie pulled it away in disgust, running over to the sink to wash it. Marceline just cackled mischievously, "That's what you get for being an arse."
Bonnie rolled her eyes, "I hate you."
"Hate you too, babe," Marceline blew a kiss in her direction and Bonnie questioned her taste in women, because why does she have to like someone so impossibly, adorably annoying? "How long until the stupid crumpets are done?"
"Soon, probably. Might eat them both myself, though," Bonnie muttered, scrubbing her hands. "You don't deserve a crumpet because you were distasteful."
Marceline pouted, "Aw, I'm sorry, Bon. Let me try your weird English thing."
She had yet to comprehend how Marceline could go from being so obnoxious and annoying to all soft and cute within seconds. The softer side was her favourite, mostly because she knew only certain people got to see it, and she felt honoured to be on that list.
"Fine," Bonnie caved, but when would she not when Marceline was looking at her like that? She turned the tap off and dried her hands, relieved when the crumpets popped up. "Only because you apologised."
She grabbed two plates and buttered both of the crumpets, rolling her eyes when Marceline wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and said, "Oh, are you going to butter my crumpet for me, Bonnie?"
"You're feeling extra annoying today, aren't you?" Bonnie retorted, pushing Marceline's plate over to her. "There. Your world is about to change."
Marceline raised her eyebrows and picked up the crumpet. Bonnie watched as she bit into it, waiting for her reaction. Her face didn't betray anything, but a few moments later, Marceline hummed and said, "Okay, England. You win this round."
"Knew you'd like it," Bonnie grinned and grabbed Marceline's free hand and her own plate, "come on, let's go sit down."
"So aside from crumpet tasting, what else is on your little dorky agenda for the day?" Marceline asked as she let Bonnie lead her into the living room, "More weird English food tasting? Because you'll never ever convince me to try beans on toast."
She shuddered as if to emphasise how disgusting she thought it was, and Bonnie just laughed, finishing off her own crumpet, "Nothing like that. I wasn't really planning on doing anything, to be honest. I was just going to do some science work before you showed up."
"Is that your subtle way of trying to boot me out?" Marceline asked, putting her empty plate on the coffee table, "Thanks, Bonnie."
"No, no, I…" Bonnie paused, well aware that she was blushing, "I like hanging out with you more."
Marceline smiled that softer, reserved smile, and Bonnie wondered what it meant. She'd only ever seen it directed at her. She almost expected Marceline to make some kind of joke about how Bonnie was obsessed with her or something, because that seemed like the type of mood she was in, but instead, the older girl just reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it softly. "I like hanging out with you too."
"Who'd have thought it, right?" Bonnie said quietly, "Back in December when we were at each other's throats all the time."
Marceline sighed. Bonnie could tell that she was sincere when she spoke softly, "I'm really sorry about all that, Bonnie. You know that, right?"
"I was pretty awful to you too, so I think we're okay," Bonnie squeezed her hand reassuringly. She flashed Marceline a smile and admitted, "I was being petty, mostly. I was like she doesn't like me so I'm going to dislike her even more! Clearly it didn't work very well."
Marceline met her gaze for a second but looked away just as quickly, "I… the stuff I said… it wasn't me, you know? I know… I know what people say about me, and I know I probably didn't help your whole perception with everything. So much that I'm kinda surprised I managed to somehow get you to be my friend. I was just… angry."
The last word came out in a heaved sigh, and Bonnie frowned. The truth was, she never fully understood why Marceline didn't like her before. She assumed it was just a mutual dislike that eventually dissolved into neutrality, then friendship, and for Bonnie, a stupid one-sided crush. "Why were you angry? Did I take the last cookie in the cafeteria or something?"
Marceline laughed, but it was a little half-hearted. Bonnie held her hand a little tighter. "Ugh, it's so dumb, honestly."
"If it bothered you, then it can't be dumb," Bonnie said simply, and Marceline looked up at her with so much surprise that it shook her. "Unless it was the cookie thing, in that case, yeah, kind of. But I'd give you a pass anyway, just because it's you."
Marceline smiled for real then, but it quickly faded when she seemed to remember what they were talking about. "It was because of dad. You showed up, and he'd never stop talking about how perfect you were and how much I sucked in comparison. So I kinda… decided I'd hate you to spite him."
Oh. That makes sense. Bonnie shifted closer to her on the sofa and wrapped her arms around Marceline, pulling her in for a hug. She looked smaller, vulnerable, and Bonnie had picked up on the fact that opening up was harder for Marceline, even more than it was for her. And that was saying something, because Bonnie had a hard time showing vulnerability. Marceline rested her head on Bonnie's shoulder and sighed like a weight had been lifted. It probably had.
Bonnie remembered what Marceline had said about her mother's death. Dad blames me. All of the talk about how family should be unconditional and without expectation, and all of Marceline's bitterness towards her father. Everything fell into place.
"I probably would've hated me, too," Bonnie admitted, and she felt Marceline laugh against her. "What made you come around, then?"
"Realised he was right about one thing," Marceline murmured, "you are pretty perfect. As close as a person could get, anyway."
Bonnie's entire heart felt full to bursting, and there was so much that she wanted to say to that, but all she managed to get out was, "Oh, shush, you goof."
Marceline just hummed in reply and stayed close to her, and Bonnie knew her heart was going into overdrive. She remembered what Uncle Peter had said, that Marceline might like her back, but she was so hard to read. Sometimes she did things like this, or flirted with her, and other times she was licking Bonnie's hand or poking her or sticking her feet in her face. Marceline was the queen of sending mixed signals.
She imagined what Lady would say if she walked in right now. She'd probably use the way they were cuddling up as some kind of confirmation that she and Marceline were in love with each other or something. Bonnie knew it was strictly platonic. At least on Marceline's side of things. She was confident and if she liked Bonnie, surely she would make a move.
"I don't know how you do it," Marceline all but whispered, "but you just make everything better."
Bonnie's stomach twisted. "Just… being a friend."
Marceline hummed in reply, still not moving away from Bonnie. If anything, she just snuggled closer and mumbled. "Still. You mean a lot to me."
"You mean a lot to me too," Bonnie said, "you're one of the best friends I've ever had. Alongside Bubba."
"Same back at you," Marceline murmured, "except Keila. Had to add that or her mind reading powers would kick into action and she'd materialise and yell at me."
Bonnie laughed. "I can imagine that. Do you just decide to show up at her house too, or is that just something you do to me?"
"Sometimes I have to text Keila in case she's doing an extra shift at work, but mostly I just show up when I want," Marceline shrugged, and when Bonnie looked down at her, she was smiling. "You like it, though. Don't lie."
"What? You're crazy," Bonnie joked, but then admitted, "Yeah. I do. But only because it's you. Try not to let that inflate your ego."
"Too late," Marceline laughed, and Bonnie felt cold when she pulled away and sat up. She already missed holding her. "I'm gonna go get a drink. Want anything?"
Bonnie nodded, and passed her the two empty plates from the coffee table. "Just water, please."
"You got it, Bon," Marceline said, and before she pushed herself up from the couch, she leaned over and kissed Bonnie's cheek, "Be right back."
Bonnie watched her go, the feeling of Marceline's kiss still lingering on her blushing red cheek.
