Exhausted, I bid Peppermint Butler a good night and enter my bedchambers. I shut the heavy door behind me with a relieving thud and lock it immediately. A long day of law making and delegation for my kingdom has left me drained in virtually every way possible. Ever since my 16th birthday, when I officially took over as the ruler of the Candy Kingdom, my days have been tedious and filled with nothing but dutiful ruling. All work and no play, however, is even beginning to wear on me, who as a child would rather being playing around with derivatives and discovering what I could with my chemistry set than playing games with the other children. I slowly kick off my shoes and peel my stockings off, then shimmy out of the pink gown I had been wearing as I walk up to the dresser across the room. After placing my tiara on it's pillow, I open up the bottom drawer and pull out a pair of sleep shorts and a familiar black t-shirt. The black t-shirt from many months ago, when Marceline and I hung out for the first time at the concert in the grasslands.

We had hung out many times since then, and have become rather close as a result. Which was nice, as I don't have time to maintain most friendships or relationships, let alone form new ones. Marceline, who has been on tour with her band for the past 3 weeks, has always been very understanding of my hectic schedule. We generally make time to hang out late at night, after I have finished my duties as princess and she has woken up enough to not be a she-beast to be around.

Smiling to myself as I slip the shirt on, I walk over to the window and unlock it. Though I am not sure when Marceline will be returning from her tours in the Nightosphere, I always unlock my window at night in case she decides to drop by.

I walk over to my bed and settle myself on top of the covers and lean against the headboard. From the bed side table to my right, I pull out a copy of an old text on Zanoids and begin reading. I am far too invested and interested in my book to hear the window creak open, but the cool air rushing in is enough to pull me away from the book. Smiling as I do so, because I already know what to expect, I look up to see my dear friend Marceline, loafing around in the air on her back with her bass guitar in her hands. Wearing her signature red books with a beat up striped sweater and a simple pair of blue jeans, the only major difference in her appearance since the last time I had seen her is that half of her hair is shaved. Peculiar.

"How's it hanging, bubblebrain?", she says with a crooked grin, one fang poking out from her upturned lips.

Feigning annoyance, I simply roll my eyes. But it's hard to hold back my delighted grin. I quickly set my text on the table and run up to Marceline, pulling her from the air and into a tight hug by her hands.

"It is nice to see you as well, Marceline!"

We sit on the floor for a while, her fingers lazily plucking the strings of her bass as she tells me about her three weeks on tour, about the fight she got into with her father, about the bet she lost that resulted in half of her hair being shaved off. We laugh a lot as she recalls her antics, and she laughs a lot when I express my frustration over all the hard work I have been doing for the Candy Kingdom.

"You don't understand, Marceline! We actually had to call an emergency meeting yesterday because someone ate cookies from the royal pantry. A 5 hour long emergency meeting!"

Marceline is in stitches, and I cross my arms across my chest and sigh heavily.

"Bonnibel, you are in charge here. Tell those delicious candy people of yours to take a few chill pills, man. They are way too high strung for my taste."

"...Well they are made of sugar, Marce."

She hits me with the pillow that she was sitting on, which results in an all out pillow war the likes of which the Candy Kingdom has probably never seen. When all is said and done, my bedchambers are in ruins, pillows are strewn about the room, the blankets on the bed and disheveled, and a very hot and sweaty pair of monarchs and catching their breath on the bed. Well, I'm watching my breath anyways, as Marceline doesn't really breathe. When I can finally formulate a sentence without wheezing, I turn my head to the side to look at the vampire and smile at her. She looks at me, and returns my smile.

"I am glad you are back, Marceline. I missed your company. And you."

Quickly, she smile leaves her face and she looks away from me, a faint blush rushing to her blue-grey cheeks. (Which leads me to wonder, can vampires even blush? As there is no blood flow, how would she blush? But, I decide to save my inquiry for later.) Suddenly confused, I prop myself up on my elbow and rest my head on my hand, all the while looking at her.

"Marceline?", I question. She continues to avoid my gaze. As we sit there in silence, me looking at her intensely the whole time, I become aware that maybe what I said was inappropriate, and feel incredibly sorry. I flop back down onto the bed and lay on my back, careful to only look up at the ceiling. Another few painfully silent minutes pass before Marceline clears her throat. She mumbles something inaudible, just loud enough of a whisper for me to hear but far to quiet to me to be able to distinguish. I return to my previous position on my elbow and eye her careful.

"I'm sorry?"

Marceline closes her eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh, then brings up her hands to cover her eyes. Without removing her hands, she clears her throat again. The blush-that-can't-possibly-be-blush returns to her cheeks.

"I missed you too, Bonnibel..."

I smile at her, though she can't see it, and quickly scramble to sit on top of her. The motion causes her to move her hands from her eyes, a shocked look on her face. Seeing a perfect opportunity to tease my dear friend, I grab the pillow I was resting my head on and grip it firmly in my hand.

"Tell me how much you missed me, Marcie."

"No lumping way, bubblebutt, get off of me", she seethes as she rolls her eyes at me. I know better though, and raise the pillow above my head, threatening to bring it down.

"Come on, Marceline, tell me how much you missed me and my fantastic sense of humor, how much you missed hanging out with me even though I probably totally dampen your cool girl style. Tell me how much you wished you were hanging out with me and not with you silly band guys!"

I am laughing hysterically at this point, enjoying the fact that Marceline looks completely devastated under me, more and more uncomfortable with every word that comes out of my mouth. The blush-not-blush is become a deeper color by the second, and it is just making me laugh harder. I almost never get the opportunity to tease Marceline, usually it is the other way around.

"Do you really want me to tell you how much I missed you, Bonnibel? Are you sure?"

Still laughing, I choke out a quiet "yes".

"Better yet," she says thoughtfully, bringing her hand up to rub her chin, "how about I show you, huh? How about I show you how much I missed spending time with my favorite princess?"

Confused at the statement, I immediately stop laughing.

"What do you mean show m-"

But before I can finish my inquiry, Marceline has quickly sat up and captured my lips in a soft kiss. I revel in the way her lips are soft and firm, the way she tastes the way she smells – like sunset and dusk, like rainclouds parting on a starry night, like licorice and root beer – and before I even have a chance to process it, I open my eyes and she is gone. The window is open and the curtains are billowing in the night wind. I go to the window to try to catch a glimpse of her, but she has already flown out of sight.

What the glob just happened...?