When Marceline rang her doorbell at exactly five after seven, Bonnibel was there, ready and waiting.

From the moment she got home until then she'd done nothing but clean, prepare, and recite her 'lines' to herself over and over again in her head for when Marceline came. Sure, it was a little ridiculous to have actually prepared a script for when she came when all she really had to do was say hello- but this was Marceline. Her rival. Her enemy, by definition. Of course she scripted her greeting.

So, when she opened the door, she was set to repeat her perfectly written, if not slightly sarcastic greeting, when Marceline spoke first and said, "Save it, Bonni, you don't have to waste your breathe on me."

She paused, Marceline sidling past her with her usual smirk. "You don't even know what I was going to say. And besides, it's rude not to greet ones guests."

She finished with an air of finality. She expected that, as the people she spoke with usually do, Marceline would become nervous or even intimidated and look away, meaning that either Bonnibel was either right or won. It's what she's used to happening. But all she was met with was that infuriatingly amused, half-smile she was notorious for.

It was going to be a long night.

Let's get to work, shall we?," Marceline asked, a wickedly playful tone to her voice, as she dropped her coat on the hook next to the door and hitched her satchel higher on her shoulder, disappearing up the steps to Bonni's sleeping loft.

::::::

"So. A studio apartment, huh?"

"Yeah," Bonnibel answered offhandedly, most of her attention focused on her part of the project.

In the end, they decided they'd make a rock candy. Marceline was very adamant on it being easy ("I have other stuff to do besides homework, Bonnibel"), and she figured that, since she was working with Marceline, notorious slacker, she wasn't going to get a standing ovation with their project anyway.

She was doing research on what they needed to do, and purposely left Marceline nothing to do. She suspected that Marceline knew that but so far she didn't seem to care. She was lounging across her queen-sized bed, while Bonnibel worked at her desk to the left of her on her laptop.

"Okay, but why a studio apartment? I mean, why don't you live with your parents like everyone else."

She fought the urge to snap back, especially sense she really had no reason to, and Marceline didn't know that she didn't actually like to talk about her parents. Sure, they were always nice, always gave her what she wanted and made sure she was taken care of, but...

"I just didn't want to live with them anymore."

"But why?" Marceline leaned forward, resting back on her elbows and looking sidelong at Bonnibel to see her. She still had that look about her- like everything was funny and she took nothing serious- but now it was laced with an honest confusion. It made her think that Marceline might not just be curious, but actually care.

Sighing, she pushed back from her computer. "Because I was practically living alone anyway. When people have money they like to spend it abroad, you know, they like to constantly be on vacation. And when you're on vacation, why bring your kid when you can just hire someone to watch them."

There was moment of silence where neither of them talked. Then Marceline rolled to the side of the bed, closest to Bonnibel, and swung her legs over and stared at her. It was the first time she saw Marceline look to serious, with her eyebrows knitted in thought, lightly chewing on her lower lip. So taken back by the sudden change, and so mesmerized, she didn't even notice her heart flutter.

"I never thought about it like that. I'm sorry it's like that." And she really was sorry, she could tell. The way her eye's shone in understanding it was like she knew exactly what she was talking about, had been through it, and related to her.

Maybe she wasn't so spoiled and dim-witted as she thought she was?

"Jesus, look at the time!," Marceline said, catching a glimpse at the clock on Bonnibel's laptop and jumping to her feet. "I have to get going."

She grabbed her satchel and flung it over her shoulder, and for some reason she couldn't identify Bonnibel felt a flair of panic and leapt to her own feet.

"Wait!" She shouted, much too loud, making Marceline and herself flinch in surprise. After the shock, the embarrassment settles in and she stuttered to continue, even if she didn't actually have anything to say, and said, "Ah-I mean just it's- It's not that late you could- you know, stay I guess, um-" She was cut of by a sharp burst of laughter from Marceline. She didn't stop and didn't seem like she was going to anytime soon. Bonnibel felt her cheeks burn brighter.

"Aw, Princess doesn't want me to leave?" She taunted, pouting for extra effect. More like extra annoyance, Bonnibel thought viciously. "I thought," She continued. "You didn't even want me here to begin with."

She felt her hackles rise at the obvious opening into an argument, but Marceline had a point. She didn't want her there to begin with. Why'd didn't she want her to leave now?

For once, she didn't have an answer.

Saving her from having to think-fast and bullshit her way through this, Marceline hooked her thumb under the strap of her satchel and dropped it on the bed. "I can stay, but you need to give me a reason to, if you catch my drift."

She didn't catch shit. "What do you mean?"

"well, now that the 'studying' is done there isn't really any other reason for me to stay, unless of course, we're gonna have fun."

The more she talked, the more confused Bonnibel became, and she shuffled nervously at the mention of 'fun'. Whatever Marceline thought was 'fun' was probably vastly different from her own idea of fun, and most lightly illegal.

Marceline smirked, laced with an unusually sinister undertone, and reached into her bag, pulling from it two tall, glass bottles- one with vodka, the other with watermelon liqueur.

Yup, definitely illegal.

"Where on earth did you get those?!" She hissed, striding forward to get a closer look at what her parents had drilled into where essentially evil. They'd actually spend almost half of an entire day when she was young talking about how many people ruined their lives over alcohol. But she'd be lying if the possibility of drinking didn't send a wave of excitement through her, and that shade of pink of awfully pretty.

"I bought them? With this-" She reached, again, into her back and withdrew a stiff card, stating that she was 23 years old.

"A fake I.D.?," she held it lightly in her hand, mystified that things like that actually existed outside of movies. She glared up at Marceline suspiciously, and asked, "You really are a criminal, aren't you?"

At that, Marceline laughed, and then shrugged loosely. "Maybe. Are we drinking or not?"

Glancing quickly down at the alcohol on her sheets and then back up to Marceline, she felt her heart thud loudly against her rib cage. She resigned herself to denying it, as much as she may want to, and opened her mouth to decline when she felt Marceline's hand on her arm- her grip firm, but controlled and gentle at the same time.

"Come on, Bonni," Marceline said, voice low with a devilish curve to her lips and a mischievous glint in her eyes. "It'll be fun, trust me."

For some reason, she did.

::::::

Two hours and half of both bottles later, Bonni could barely remember how her legs worked anymore. Everything felt really smooth, and she just felt so... sparkly. It made her laugh. A lot.

Alternatively, that made Marceline laugh, a lot, and they ended up being a giggling mess on her bed with both of them talking without any idea what they were talking about.

She can't remember how it happened exactly. She remembered how the more they chatted the closer they seemed to get, to where they wasn't any space left between them.

In the span of a moment, without any conscious thought, she was on top of her, her lips against Marceline's and Marceline's hand finding their way under her top.

After that she couldn't remember a thing, but when the morning came she knew exactly what happened.

She was, after all, still lying stark-naked next to an equally undressed Marceline.

A/N: I almost wrote smut but i decided against it. I'm still not sure if I Should write smut for later chapter, so if you'd like it tell me~

Also I don't have the energy to edit it right now and I was determined to upload it today, so ill come back later and edit it. I hope it's a good chapter and you guys like it 3