This was going to be a really long day.
It was bad enough that Marceline's head pounded something fierce for every nudge of the brakes, the vessels inside throbbing in time with every crack and pebble they drove over, without Bonnibel staring sourly out at the passing scenery, appearing all around displeased. Was she annoyed with her? The woman hadn't said a word to her, or better yet, acknowledged her existence at all since wordlessly nabbing her earlier on the third floor hallway. She was seated beside Marceline behind the passenger seat as a result of Norm, the man that had been with her since the lab, calling shotgun.
She closed her eyes, barely able to register what the friendly animated chatter between Paul and Norm was about. Should've asked for drugs before they left, she thought. Doing her job was going to be extremely difficult with the day's ailment.
After what was most likely around half an hour later but what could have been a minute or million years to Marceline, Paul announced their arrival. She followed her boss through the lot, willing herself to pretend not to be one of the walking dead. They made their way through the gallery entrance and into it's lobby. Marceline was suddenly jerked to a stop by a snag of the fabric around her neck. A momentary splash of alertness made her aware that she had almost crashed into Paul's back after he had apparently stopped to... probably consider which part of the gallery to start with. A surreal buzzing started up behind her eyeballs. Or, was it ever not there and she was suddenly just more aware of it? She couldn't remember. And was that a snort that just came from behind her?
Either way, being careful not to move her neck at all and give herself more vertigo than she already had, she turned herself with stiff shoulders to see what she had got caught on. What she found was Norm and Bonnibel standing side by side a couple of paces behind her and Paul. Bonnibel didn't make eye contact but Norm looked at her with a genuine doe-eyed concern.
"You okay?" Norm whispered to Marceline. Although it came out in more of a stage whisper volume. She could tell that he didn't mean it to that effect and wondered as well if he knew that they didn't have to be hushed in the gallery as if they were in a library. Come to think of it, reduced volumes were probably better for her anyway.
"Headache," she whispered back to him. His face drooped sadly in sympathy.
By the time Marceline had turned herself back, Paul had seemingly decided which path to take. They ventured further into the gallery. She tried tilting her head from side to side to maybe crack the tension out and get the blood pulsing right again but to no avail.
"Hey, Paul?" Marceline had reached her limit.
Paul hummed in question and slowed to fall into steps beside her. Her face must have been pretty badly twisted up because he did a double take when he looked at her face. He slowed to a stop, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
Marceline sighed delicately, "I don't feel right. I was hoping that my headache would pass but it keeps getting worse." She rubbed her fingertips against her temples weakly in frustration. "I don't think I'd be able to do my job much justice today."
Paul nodded gently, "Of course, I understand. Let's get you back right a-"
Paul was cut off by a tap on his shoulder by Bonnibel. "If I may suggest, caffeine?" She had an eyebrow raised and somehow it looked kind of… intimidating.
"Er, yes." Paul cleared his throat. "Marceline?"
Marceline was having trouble processing the question she was apparently being asked. Coffee? "I guess it wouldn't hurt to try," she grumbled. And if it did then she doubted she'd be able to tell.
"Right, I will be off with queries regarding the new pieces that have arrived over the weekend and it may take some time, but rest assured it'll be gladly put on hold if need be," Paul assured Marceline before turning to Norm and Bonnibel, "And I do hope you two will find enjoyment here. Back before my retirement days, if I needed to take a load off from the sometimes strenuous lab work, turning to art always had a way of bringing the color back to mind." A thoughtful expression settled on his face as he said this.
"Do they have animal art here?" Norm asked, his voice thick with dopey wonder.
"Oh yes, my dear boy, they sure do," Paul enthused. "If you choose to accompany me, there's a section that I know you'll find particularly inspiriting." Their conversation faded away as they ventured deeper into the gallery.
Marceline turned around and headed towards the small cafe located near the lobby area of the gallery. There was seriously no way it was simply a cup of coffee that was going to abort all of the artillery going off within the confines of her skull. But then, if it helped at least a little then she also figured it was probably her best chance at driving herself home later.
Not bothering to exert any effort and aggravating her sore eye sockets by looking up at the cafe menu, she asked the bored looking cashier, "Can I just get something frozen with caramel in it?"
"Uh, no," said a derisive voice- and, oh why was it Bonnibel's voice that came from behind her. The cashier looked confused. "Cold and sweet is only going to make your headache worse." She told Marceline tartly, as if she was speaking to a small silly child. If Marceline's brain wasn't as good as on a grill, she probably would know how she felt about that. "She will have a plain hot latte, double espresso."
If Marceline was in the right mind, she would have been gaping incredulously at the other woman's nerves. Since she wasn't, she just pouted petulantly instead. "But. But I only drink sweet coffee."
The frostily stern expression that settled neatly on Bonnibel's face, softened ever so slightly when she looked at Marceline. There was also an air of something else there that Marceline was too dizzy to even attempt at deciphering. Whatever it was extinguished any protest she had left in her when Bonnibel murmured smoothly, "We'll get some honey in there. That'll make it plenty sweet."
The cashier appeared to be more awake now, deer caught in the headlights awake, and when Bonnibel shoved her paycard at him insistently with raised brows, he fumbled around in haste to slide it before handing it back and scurrying off to make her drink. Marceline watched as he ducked below the counter to retrieve a gallon of milk from inside a ridiculously short fridge. The thing only came up to around the guy's knees. Marceline didn't even want to imagine how many squats one would have to do in a single shift to follow proper lifting and lowering etiquette lest they mess up a sciatic nerve.
Some time between her mind, babbling nonsense, she was pressed into a cold leather lounge chair at the back corner of the cafe next to one of the floor to ceiling window panels. Through it, Marceline could see a beautiful garden area. Sculpted greenery, and every color in every shade mingled together strategically making the view in its entirety picturesque. Thankfully, she was placed under the shade of a tree that sat just outside. She was sure that it had to be in the shape of something but it was too close to make out what it could be.
"Here, drink up." Marceline tore her gaze away from the scenery outside and looked towards the voice. Bonnibel was perched on the armrest of the chair holding a to-go cup of coffee in front of her face. "You'll feel better once the caffeine kicks in."
Marceline shakily took the cup and regarded it dubiously. It was going to either be bitter or taste like nothing. Blegh.
Bonnibel rolled her eyes at her. "It's plenty sweet I can assure you. But If you would like, I could force it down your throat instead and you can thank me later when your headache goes away."
Marceline's eyes went wide at that, but then she winced and shut them. Her eye sockets were far too sore for anyone to be catching her off guard like that.
Bonnibel was a lot darker than she would've ever guessed from afar, what with her whole straight-edged cute nerd looking thing going on. It's the ones you would least expect she supposed. Still, the woman didn't have to be so mean. "You're mean."
It was probably for the best that the corner where they sat was quite secluded and that the medium volume elevator music dripping from the various speakers built into the ceiling were enough to drown out the small commotion. She hadn't expected Bonnibel to suddenly lean over her in an attempt to grab the cup. This caused Marceline to reflexively jerk away, bumping herself into the wall of the chair in an attempt to get out of reach, not without an embarrassing yelp, nearly spilling the scalding contents all over herself.
Bonnibel's hands flew up. "Whoa, I was just kidding." She straightened herself back up on the armrest.
In reality, Marceline probably wouldn't have reacted the way she did if it weren't for her head. It hadn't really been all that scary. Yet, there she was, fingers of one hand trembling around the base of her coffee cup and the other hand fumbling to secure the lid back into place. It had popped off dangerously during their nerve-racking exchange.
"Uh yeah, me too." It was pathetic, but before she could shake the fever threatening to stew the last of her standing brain cells into a coma, there would be no redemption under most circumstances. So she took as many consecutive gulps of her drink as her lung capacity would allow.
As the fluids rushed down her throat, she realised that the taste was quite pleasant. Sweet, like Bonnibel had promised.
"See? Not bad, is it?"
Marceline shook her head. "Thanks," she said quietly. She had managed to polish off a little more than half the cup already in the one go. "So, how long does this usually take to kick in?"
Bonnibel hummed. "It depends on how fast you metabolise. From personal experience, there's a significant difference after about half an hour."
Marceline groaned. "Ugh. That's forever." She leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. "I don't need a chaperone to watch me die. Aren't you going to go sightseeing?"
Through the blur of her peripherals, she saw Bonnibel shrug, "I'm not in the mood to wander." After a moment's pause, the corner of her lip tilted up. "Also, I'm certain you weren't aware that you almost bowled over a small child on your way up to the counter earlier, so I daresay you need a chaperone."
Marceline chuckled softly. "Ah, I see. Saving the children. How respectable. Do you have some of your own?"
Bonnibel snorted. "Gosh, no."
Marceline hummed, somewhere in the back of her mind realising as well that that was the same snort she heard behind her when she was nearly strangled to a stop earlier. "Me too."
"I would like to have some, though." Bonnibel admitted.
Marceline frowned. "Well then why not? I'm sure you could have them anytime you wanted to." She waved a weak hand in the other woman's general direction. "I mean, look at you. And you're a scientist. That's pretty cool. I can already imagine all the faceless suitors vying for your affections, waiting for you to get bored with your latest hunk of choice." She leaned forward to set her empty cup down next to her feet feeling horribly woozy on her way back up.
Bonnibel looked at her incredulously, cheeks tinged a light shade of pink. "No. To most of that. But thank you, I wouldn't have pegged you as someone with much interest in the subject."
"Oh, I'm not. Personally, I believe there's so much more to the subject than the textbooks let on." Bonnibel looked at her questioningly. "Like, there's a huge emphasis on the small sciences, but if you ask me, it's all a ploy to keep us blinded from the larger sciences. Knowing that stuff is powerful, and of course, to remain in control of the cage, you can't let the occupants know that there's a big fat world outside of it. Same deal with us I suspect."
Bonnibel blinked at her, expression unreadable. "So. You're one of those people."
"Huh?"
"You're one of those nutty conspiracy theorists."
"More like, nutty conspiracy enthusiast."
Bonnibel burst out laughing. "Okay, well, at least we've established that you're a nut."