"Okay, guys, food court and then a movie?" Elle looked around the group, waiting for somebody to object to her proposal for a split second, before continuing, "Alright, great, we're all in agreement. I want Taco Bell."

That indicated that she'd broken up with Brad yet again; Elle only ate fast food when she wasn't dating her occasional boyfriend. Fionna confirmed as much when she whispered in Bonnie's ear, "She's comfort eating because Brad is with Melissa this week."

"Thought so," Bonnie stepped onto the escalator after her, Finn jumping on behind her looking extremely enthusiastic at the mention of Taco Bell. "Excited for food?"

"And the movie. Best part of shopping." Finn answered with a grin. "I am pretty hungry though. It'll be nice for Jake to stop being so hangry."

Bonnie cast Jake a glance. He was further up the escalator, arm around Lady's shoulders, a rather irritated frown on his face which he forced into a smile when he caught her looking. She laughed, and as they wandered into the busy food court, commented, "You'll have to direct me on what to get. I've never had Taco Bell before. It's not really a big thing in England."

"You've never had Taco Bell?" Finn looked at her like she'd just strangled a puppy. "Okay, I'm ordering for you. We have to get you a crunchwrap."

"I don't know what that is, but I'll try it." Bonnie shrugged, watching as he nodded and sprinted up ahead to relay that and his order to Jake. "So much energy. I don't know how you deal with it."

Phoebe shrugged. "He calms down when he's not around people. It's like the more people there are, the more energetic he is."

"Ah, the wild species known as extroverts," Bonnie commented, doing her best David Attenborough impression. "The antithesis to the quiet introverts."

Fionna laughed and looked at Bonnibel rather pointedly. "I think I've met one of those before."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bonnie answered, pulling out a chair at the big table Lady had claimed. She sat down next to her and smiled, looking at the small queue at the Taco Bell that Finn and Jake had joined. "The boys are being chivalrous and getting the food, then?"

"That's probably the reason they'll use," Lady conceded, "but I know that Jake just wants to steal little bits before bringing it over. There's always a suspiciously small portion of nachos."

Bonnie hummed. "I'll wait to decide how horrific of a crime that is until I actually try the food."

At the thought of food, her stomach rumbled. All she'd had for breakfast was a crumpet and a cup of tea, and they'd been shopping for hours now. Maybe she'd get some popcorn at the movie. She had some jellybeans in her bag that she could snack on, but they were for the movie.

"So," Lady flashed her that smirk, and Bonnie knew she'd be asking something about Marceline just from the look on her face, "how come you didn't invite Marceline? Didn't want your friends to see you being all cheesy with your girlfriend?"

"I don't see her every single day, you know," Bonnie said, though it was near enough. "Anyway, she was working today."

Unconsciously, Bonnie checked her watch. It was ten past three, and Marceline had told her she was finishing at three today. Perhaps she could skip on the movie and go and see Marceline. Or invite her over. Yes, she was fairly certain that Peter would be out all day. Plenty of time for her to… enjoy Marceline's company.

"I just still can't believe you're dating Marceline."

Bonnie rolled her eyes rather obviously. Elle had said that at least ten times a day since finding out Bonnie's relationship status, and while Bonnie understood it would take some time to process, she thought that after a month and a half since learning that information, it would've sunk in.

"It's not that hard to believe," Bonnie said, "you're just finding it hard to process because we didn't like each other for a couple of months."

"No, it's hard to believe because it's Marceline," Elle retorted, laughing, "wow, the good girl and the delinquent. What a trope."

Again, Bonnie rolled her eyes. "She's hardly a delinquent; she gets good grades and she's never actually in trouble. We're on the same level of delinquent, she just likes to make herself look all scary for whatever reason."

"To be fair, Bonnie," Lady said, and at Bonnie's stern look, cringed, "We've known her longer than you. And she might've calmed down now, but back in freshman and sophomore year, a day didn't go by when she wasn't called to Citron's office about something or other."

"She might've given me the SparkNotes version of all of that," Bonnie admitted slowly, "and I don't judge her for it. She had her reasons."

Lady quickly made amends, "We're not saying to judge her on it. I'm just saying, we had our reasons when we told you to stay away from her initially. Even if we were wrong."

"Yeah, like her decking her ex in the middle of the hallway," Elle announced, "better hope you don't get on her bad side, Bonnibel."

"She would never," Bonnie sent a scathing look across the table, "ever hurt me. Don't even joke about that."

"Okay, okay," Elle held her hands up in defence, "I'm sorry. It was just a joke. Didn't mean to offend you."

"Ignore her, Bonnie," Lady patted Bonnie's back to calm her down, "I mean, it's really obvious that she'd never do anything to hurt you. Have you seen the way that girl looks at you?"

She had, but Bonnie didn't know that other people had noticed. "How does she look at me?"

"She looks at you like you're the most amazing thing she's ever seen. Like she's in awe of your whole existence and she'd do anything for you," Lady said, laughing, "and she doesn't stop staring at you. Like, even when you're not looking. I'd say the word but I don't know if she has yet."

Bonnie raised her eyebrows. She assumed the word was love, so all she said was, "I love her too."

Lady smiled. "So she has said it."

"Yeah," Bonnie murmured, smiling to herself quietly, absentmindedly twisting the ring on her finger. "She has."

Finn and Jake returned with the food, and Bonnibel ate quietly, mostly just thinking about her girlfriend. She almost texted her to ask her for a rescue mission, purely so they could properly utilise Bonnie's empty house, but managed to restrain herself. She promised she'd spend the day with her friends and spending the day with her friends she would do.

After eating, they set off through the mall to take the escalator up to the cinema. It was on the top floor of the mall, only a small theatre with two separate screens. They were going to see the latest superhero movie, and Bonnie knew she'd have no idea what was going on, but supposed it might be interesting enough.

She was bringing up the rear of the pack, and almost jumped out of her skin when hands wrapped around her waist, and a familiar voice whispered in her ear, "Give me all your money."

Bonnie rolled her eyes after her initial shock passed. "Very funny, Marcy."

"I almost thought twice about doing that," Marceline pulled away once she'd kissed Bonnie's cheek, "That bitch security guard who kicked me and Keila out for playing hide and seek was working and she was staking me out. Might've thought I was attacking you."

"Still can't believe you did that," Bonnie laughed, looking her over. She was wearing her work shirt; a black polo with the music store's logo embroidered on, and a pair of (shockingly) unripped black jeans. She had that red letterman jacket of hers on, and her hands were stuffed in the pockets. "You look cute."

Marceline smirked. "You look cuter."

"You look cutest," Bonnie retorted, smirking a little bit herself when Marceline blushed. "Anyway, what're you doing here? I thought you'd have skipped straight home and gone back to bed after working."

"Oh, I'm here seeing my side chick, obviously." Marceline rolled her eyes and pulled a book out of her jacket pocket. It had been sticking out, Bonnie just hadn't noticed. Too focused on her pretty face. "Wanted a new book. Are you-"

"Marceline," Lady came up beside Bonnie and smiled, "we're going to see a movie, want to join?"

She looked like she was going to decline, but Bonnie looked at her pleadingly. Marceline's teeth dragged across her bottom lip as if she was trying to trap the words in, but eventually, a long sigh came out and she said, "I guess I could."

Bonnie felt herself grinning, and she looped her arm through Marceline's, effectively trapping her even if she changed her mind. "Thank you. I'll pay for your ticket."

"Wait, no," Marceline frowned, "I'm not going to let you do that."

Bonnie just laughed. "Yes, you are."

Marceline rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Bonnie smirked rather proudly. "Fine. But I'll get you back somehow."

"Well, I don't know what magical powers you have to make the rebel over here listen to you," Elle commented flippantly from where she was stood by the escalator, "but can you use them to make her hurry up? We're going to miss the movie."

"Didn't know you cared about superheroes all that much, Elle," Bonnie said, but pulled a reluctant Marceline along with her, keeping tight hold of her arm.

"I don't, but I do care about an environment where I have to switch my phone off," Elle said, scowling at the device in her hand, "I'm sick of seeing stupid Melissa's posts with Brad. It's like she's trying to rub my face in it. The bitch."

Bonnie caught Marceline rolling her eyes out of the corner of her vision and held back her amused smile. Once they were up to the movie theatre floor and Elle gravitated over to the snacks and firmly out of earshot, Bonnie murmured to her girlfriend, "Her life is like a teen drama."

Marceline snorted. "Next thing you know, she'll have a mysterious sibling show up that she never knew about."

Bonnie laughed. "Her evil identical twin."

"Oh, god," Marceline cringed, "one of them is bad enough, we don't need two. Kinda wish I had a twin, though."

Bonnie laughed, but a little concernedly. "Um… have you just deleted your twin brother's entire existence from your brain?"

"No, I mean like, identical," Marceline said, "duh. I'd make her do all sorts of stuff for me."

"So you're the evil twin, then," Bonnie surmised, and then quietly assumed, "between you and Marshall, are you the elder?"

"Mhm, I got four minutes on him." Marceline hummed in reply, "I'm also smarter, funnier, prettier and more talented."

It was a joke – or at least Bonnie thought it was – but she quietly agreed. Zero hate to Marshall, but Marceline was just… wow. She was a little biased, but whatever. Outwardly, though, she replied, "You're also more conceited, but we won't talk about that."

"Me? Conceited?" Marceline rolled her eyes, but she was grinning, "No, of course not. I'm just speaking the cold, hard facts."

Bonnibel chuckled and tangled their fingers together as they moved up in the line for tickets. Instead of disagreeing with her, she asked, "Do you want any snacks? I have jellybeans hidden in my bag."

"I'm good, I got a pastry from the bakery near work when I left so I'm pretty full," Marceline said, "thanks for offering, though."

Once they got their tickets and waited for those who were purchasing snacks to buy them – Bonnie watched in awe as Finn got more nachos and wondered how he could fit so much in – they walked into the theatre and took their seats. Bonnie didn't let go of Marceline's arm until they were sat down, just to make sure she didn't try to escape. She really didn't expect it when Marceline rested her head on her shoulder and held her hand. Usually, it would be a given, but this was public, and around Bonnie's friends.

She knew that they noticed, too. Lady smirked at her, and Elle went to open her mouth to comment, but Fionna elbowed her before she could and shot Bonnie an apologetic smile on Elle's behalf.

Finn, who was sat on Bonnie's other side, just smiled and said, "That's cute."

"Shut it, Mertens," Marceline muttered, but she didn't move from where she was, all snuggled up to Bonnie. "Cute. Hah. I'll show you who's cute when I'm kicking your ass."

He laughed. "Yeah, sure. Bet it'll be a cute ass kicking."

"Face it, darling," Bonnie smiled, her hand going to run through Marceline's hair, "nobody is going to find you intimidating when you're all cuddled up to me."

Marceline muttered something indistinguishable, and if anything, her grip on Bonnie tightened. As the lights dimmed and the screen turned on, Bonnie caught the expression on her face, and she was sure that Marceline was smiling.

Bonnie had been grateful that the house was still empty when she returned home and dragged Marceline inside. Yes. Very, very grateful.

She trailed a finger down Marceline's spine, taking in the beautiful girl in front of her. Every inch of her was perfect. Maybe not dictionary definition perfect – she had scars and stretch marks and beauty spots – but she was Bonnie definition perfect. And that was what mattered.

All that covered her was a bedsheet. Bonnie felt bare skin pressed up against her; Marceline liked to cuddle after sex. She'd learned that quickly. Bonnie just held her, tracing patterns over her skin, drawing little love hearts, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her chest against her.

Her hands found their way into Marceline's hair, and she brushed through the wild black locks, smiling when Marceline hummed quietly and pressed closer to her, like a cat purring when it was petted. Bonnie's hand trailed down, touching her jaw, running a thumb across her cheek, and tracing down to her neck. Her fingers brushed over that scar there; it stood out, stark white against brown skin, and Bonnie asked, "What's this from? You don't have to tell me if it's… you know."

"It's not," Marceline answered quietly, calloused fingers tracing over Bonnie's stomach and bringing those butterflies to life. "I would say ask Keila, but she'd probably lie like she didn't nearly kill me."

Bonnie raised her eyebrows. "Keila did it?"

"By accident, obviously, she didn't just grab a knife and decide to slice my neck open," Marceline snorted, "her dad is kind of a nerd. Collects all these replicas from these shows he likes, and he has this one sword. I think it's a replica from Lord of the Rings. Well, we didn't realise it was actually sharp. We were only like, eleven, and playing around with it. She pretended to knight me, and nearly cut open my jugular. Had to go to the hospital and get stitches and the whole time Keila was the one crying because she thought I was going to die. Not me, the one who was actually bleeding out."

Bonnie found it hard to laugh at – even though it was a relatively funny story, the thought of Marceline bleeding out like that had her more than a little horrified. "God, I would've been crying too."

"Worked out in the end, though," Marceline shrugged, "I'm just glad she didn't mess up my vocal cords. Damn."

"Naturally that would be what you're worried about," Bonnie retorted, trying to shake the mental image out of her head, "not dying or anything."

"Don't need to sing if I'm dead," Marceline said all too casually, "anyway, like I said, worked out fine in the end. That was the first of many near death experiences."

Bonnie blinked. "Many?"

"I've nearly been run over like… four times? Also nearly got electrocuted once, my old laptop charger exploded." Marceline listed, "Ooh, there was that one time I nearly stabbed myself when I was cooking. That would've been the dumbest way to die. Accidentally stabbed self. Imagine having that on your death certificate."

Admittedly, Bonnie managed a little chuckle at her last joke, but said, "Promise me you'll be more careful from now on?"

"I promise," Marceline flashed her a small smile and snuggled back into her, "you got any weird near-death experiences?"

Bonnie frowned in thought. "I was nearly hit by a bus when I was six. I don't really remember it, but I remember mum yelling at me for nearly getting myself killed. Also, I almost set myself on fire. My hair came loose in the lab and the Bunsen burner was right there… could've been horrible. But all that happened was I singed the ends of my hair and had a little bit of a panic."

Marceline cringed. "Damn, fire would be the worst way to go. But I'd still like you, even if you burnt your face off on some wacky science experiment."

"Thanks," Bonnie snorted with laughter, fingers absently running over the scar on her neck again, "I'd still like you with a big gaping hole in your neck."

"True romance," Marceline commented, throwing her arm back over Bonnie's stomach. She shifted under the covers, and bare skin pressed up against her. Bonnie loved it. Bonnie loved her. "That's inspired me. Let's play twenty questions."

"You already know me better than everyone else in my life," Bonnie commented, fingers trailing back down her spine, "what more could you possibly want to know?"

"Let's find out," Marceline said, humming in thought. It took her a while to come up with a question. "First time you got asked out?"

"It was my year eleven prom. A boy in my year asked me to go with him. I said no. Ended up going with Bubba." Bonnie recalled the event well. "Wasn't interested. Obviously it was because I was gay, but I didn't know that at the time. I justified it by saying it was because he was one of the lads. All football and being loud and obnoxious."

Marceline laughed. "I'm loud and obnoxious."

"Yes, but you do it in a cute way, and you've got the added advantage of being a girl," Bonnie squeezed her gently around the middle, "anyway, the same question, back at you."

"It was Ash," Marceline scrunched her nose up in disgust, "met him in detention and he asked me if I wanted to go for a drink. We snuck into a bar and got drunk. Very classy and romantic. Ask me a different question, now. It's cheating to recycle mine."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Okay, um… first song you learned on guitar?"

"Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple. Pretty sure that's everyone's first song. The good old E-G-A. It was shortly followed by Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana. I was a bad bitch for a seven-year-old." Marceline said. "First date?"

"Oh, it was with this very wonderful girl in New York," Bonnie smiled, "she took me to my first ever concert and let me nerd out at the science museum and turns out she's an amazing kisser."

"She sounds pretty great," Marceline commented, smirking, "sure you're not too nerdy for her?"

Bonnie hummed, and traced a little heart on Marceline's waist. "Nope. She's kind of a closet nerd, so…"

"Okay, shush," Marceline murmured, "I'm a badass punk rocker, Bonnie."

"Yes," Bonnie said, "but you're also a nerd. And a little bit dorky. Those things aren't mutually exclusive. Anyway… first kiss?"

"I was twelve. Game of spin the bottle at a birthday party. Can't even remember the guy's name." Marceline answered, and when green eyes met blue, she smiled and said, "But you were the first kiss that mattered."

Bonnie knew she was blushing. "That was unexpectedly romantic. You were the first kiss that mattered for me too."

Marceline smiled that soft smile and hummed quietly. It soon morphed into a mischievous smirk, and she said, "First time?" while wiggling her eyebrows.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "You know what it was, you were there, you big perv."

"That makes it sound like I sat in the corner and watched," Marceline snorted, and the way she looked so cocky made Bonnie want to push her back onto the bed and put her in her place. Admittedly, she got a little bit of a high, seeing Marceline underneath her.

She shook that thought from her head with a blush. Maybe later. "Well, since you're being distasteful and asking me about that, I'll ask you."

Marceline's cheerful, teasing manner completely vanished and was replaced with a solemn frown. "Ash again. I was fifteen. Don't really remember it because I was drunk. We both were, because it was right after the first date."

Bonnie winced. "I'm sorry. Shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's okay," Marceline flashed a weak smile, "you can always ask me anything. I trust you."

As much as that meant to her, Bonnie shook her head. "Yeah, but I know you don't like talking about it. I don't want to make you feel pressured, you know?"

"You never make me feel pressured. You're amazing," Marceline found her hand under the covers and locked their fingers together. "To be honest, with the way everything was with him, that's why I've tried to be super careful with you. Thinking about things and trying to open up rather than just lashing out and pushing you away. Not because whatever I had with Ash meant anything, but because it was so toxic, and it's kind of the only relationship experience I have to go off. I don't want this to end up like that."

"He genuinely seemed like the worst kind of arse," Bonnie said, remembering the two times she'd been blessed with the joy of meeting Ash. "He came off as really manipulative and controlling. In a way, that kind of scares me, because I'm a little bit of a control freak. I know I joke about being the boss and everything, but you really don't have to do anything I tell you. I hope you know that."

"No, no, you're nothing like him, Bonnie. Most of the time when you ask me to do things, it's just like, hang out with your friends. And maybe I'm a little dramatic about it, but you really don't need to convince me." Marceline quickly assured her and flashed her a small grin. "Besides, you are the boss. And that's sexy."

"Oh, hush," Bonnie blushed, and then remembering what Marceline had said before asked, "What do you mean? That you've tried to be careful with me?"

"Well, I mean, I told you before about all the angst and the big meta realisation that I needed to stop being a toxic mess and work on myself. And it's been a really hard thing to do, and I can't say that I'm fully, you know, all there." Marceline shifted so she wasn't looking at Bonnie, but rather staring at the ceiling. She didn't let go of her hand, though. "The thing with Ash, it wasn't like… it wasn't like he was the only one that made it a bad relationship. I was toxic too, and I used him just as much as he used me."

"With you… I really, really care about you. I don't want to mess it up by being a mess, you know? Opening up has always been really hard for me, and it's always been easier to just lash out and push people away. I think part of it is because I never really got over losing mom. I keep people at arm's length so I don't have to deal with them leaving later and hurting me more. Being in a relationship, if you keep the other person away, and don't open up and communicate, it's going to just turn into a massive toxic mess." Marceline's grip on her hand tightened, and Bonnie squeezed it gently. "I don't want that to happen with you. Toxicity hurts, and it's not your fault that I'm all messed up. So, even though sometimes the thought of opening up makes me want to pull a Sylvia Plath and stick my head in the oven, I still do it, because it's important."

"My point is, I'm trying to be better. Trying to sort through all my stuff in a healthy way. It's not other people's fault that I've got baggage and I shouldn't like, project my trauma onto them," Marceline turned to look at her, and Bonnie met a pair of gentle green eyes with so much love in them, "I'm not saying I don't mess up with that sometimes. I mean, take the whole 'me trying to dislike you purely because my dad liked you' thing. That was quite literally me projecting my trauma onto you and I'm still really sorry about that."

"I forgave you ages ago," Bonnie assured her, leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose, "I told you, if the roles had been reversed, I would've tried to dislike you too. I understand."

"It still doesn't excuse it, though," Marceline said, "I was being an idiot."

"You're a cute idiot," Bonnie said in an attempt to make her smile, "seriously, Marcy, it's okay. I was really horrible to you, too, and you're not mad at me for that."

"Only because I was horrible to you first. We could've been friends from the off and together for longer if I hadn't let dad get to me," Marceline sighed, "God, I'm stupid."

"Shush, I won't stand for self-deprecation," Bonnie said, pulling her close and murmuring, "You're trying your best to work through your issues and that's all anyone can ever ask for. And if we're talking about abandonment issues… I understand more than you know when it comes to keeping people at arm's length. I try my best to do the same as you, work on them in a healthy way, because I don't want to do something to mess this up either. This is important to me. You're important to me."

"What was it like for you?" Marceline asked quietly. "You don't have to tell me, but… what was it like? After everything with your parents happened? How did you deal with it?"

"Unhealthily," Bonnie sighed, thinking back to the day the door of her childhood home had slammed behind her. "At first I was a mess. Completely in hysterics. I didn't know what to do, and I was in this blind panic. Thirteen years old, nowhere to go, barely any money. Not enough to pay for a hotel, and it probably wasn't even legal for me to check into one. I stayed on the front step for hours, trying to get them to just listen to me, but it was like that was it. I was guilty of this cardinal sin, no matter what I said."

"Eventually, my mother came outside and told me to go away. In less… pleasant terms." Bonnie felt the tears stinging at her eyes, and she held tightly onto Marceline, holding her close, feeling her there. "I tried to reason with her. She told me she no longer had a daughter and that I was an abomination just like my uncle."

"Jesus," Marceline murmured, "I'm so sorry, Bonnie."

"That was the thing that gave me the idea. I walked the two miles to the nearest train station and found Peter in the phone book. I didn't know if he'd answer, or if he'd be kind enough to take me in." Bonnie let out a shaky breath, and for once, Marceline held her. She curled into the beautiful woman that she loved and continued. "He answered the phone, and I was still in near-hysterics when I called him. I'd calmed down enough that he could understand what I was saying, and I'm pretty sure I reiterated that I wasn't gay about fifty times. He gave me his card details and paid for my train tickets up to York. He promised he would get in contact with my parents and explain the situation to them, try and convince them that I wasn't gay, that it had been a horrible prank that some girls at school tried to pull."

"Obviously, it didn't work. Not only did that phone call consist of every homophobic slur under the sun, my parents said I was never to contact them, or my little brother, again. That the two abominations could stick together." Bonnie reached up and wiped a tear from her eye. Marceline held her tightly and kissed the top of her head. "Peter enrolled me in the local school, but I… to be honest, I wasn't the nicest. I'd be cold whenever anyone tried to befriend me, because I thought that somehow, they'd find out and the same thing would happen, that they'd abandon me. I wouldn't talk to any of the girls especially. Wouldn't even look at them, because even if I had a passing thought that one of them was pretty, I would hate myself for it and repress. It was a miracle that Bubba managed to break through the carefully crafted walls I'd put up. I never told him why my parents kicked me out, but I eventually opened up enough to tell him that they did."

She sighed. "Aside from keeping everyone away, I had another unhealthy coping mechanism. One that you've witnessed."

Marceline's voice was so soft and concerned when she asked, "Studying until you drop?"

"Yes," Bonnie said, "I had very bad panic attacks after it all happened. Any time I thought about it, I would panic, until all I became was panic. Couldn't think, couldn't breathe. It was awful. Throwing myself into work was one way of not thinking about everything. If I was thinking about science, I wasn't thinking about how much I hurt, how much I missed my family. At my worst, I didn't sleep for six days, collapsed in the middle of school, and ended up hospitalised for exhaustion."

"Bonnie," Marceline held her tightly, and said, "if you ever feel like you're going to do anything like that, please call me."

"I… I would. I've been trying to take it easy every time I feel like I'm going to go crazy, especially after last time. Sleep-deprived Bonnie is… kind of mean," she admitted quietly, "I wouldn't want to say anything to hurt you just because I'm going a little bit crazy."

Marceline hummed. "I guess we're both just trying our best, huh?"

"I guess so," Bonnie agreed, and blue eyes met green when she said, "and that's all you can really ask for."