Femme sighed and played with the edge of her wine glass, running her fingers around the edge. She had managed to pull a hulking grey Adonis of a stone monster with her current form, but he was literally as dumb as rocks. Hardly stimulating conversation, no matter how perfectly chiseled his granite face was. So she had ditched him and any hope of winning, and was now sitting alone at the bar in her blue jeans and white singlet with blonde waves of hair and lips so flushed and plump they resembled two pin cushions, freshly pricked.

She looked up from her drink to see Marshall-lee silently ghosting onto the stool next to her, sitting down and beckoning for the bartender.
' Look who came crawling back. Did you seriously fail to bust a jailbird?' Femme asked him, half teasingly but with a sincere note of incredulousness. She had been fully prepared to pay the tab that night, because even though she wasn't bad with plays, she had never managed to beat him before. It had been a calculated choice of bet, in order to make the vamp feel better. However, judging by his brooding demeanor, that hadn't work.
' I took her to court already. Twice.' Marshall deadpanned, taking the bottle of beer from the bartender then tipping the neck towards Femme and shrugging at her shocked expression. Femme blinked at him as she digested this information and Marshall popped the cap off the beer on the sharp edge of the bar.
' I... Jeez, VK. We've only been here for an hour and half and you've already gone for a ride?' Marshall made her wait for his reply as he took a drink.
' Yep.' He said between gulps, reveling in the bitsy, hoppy flavour of the dark brew.
' Uh.. But I thought we were just trying to pick up, not deliver.' Femme was surprised at the expression in Marshall's eyes when they quickly flashed to hers then away, and waited with a growing amount of interest for him to counter her statement.
' Hm. Yeah, I know but.. You don't turn down an opportunity, I guess.' He said, finally taking the already half-empty bottle away from his lips and placing it on the bar, then beginning to play with the bottle cap as he refused to met Femme's suddenly analytical gaze.
' You just got laid, and knowing you she was probably pretty damn fine, and you're sulking.'
' No, I'm not.'
' Marshall-lee.'
' Femme.'
Femme growled and slapped her hand over Marshall's, stopping his annoyingly twitchy fingers from perpetually spinning the bottle cap around and around. Marshall seemed mildly surprised by this, but still wouldn't look at her.
' Marshall-lee Riomorts Abadeer, stop being such a fucking smart-ass sneak and tell me why you wanna be a whiny-ass bitch.' At this Marshall jerked his hand out from underneath hers and picked up his beer again, giving her a reproachful look over the top of the green glass.
' I have whined about exactly nothing tonight, so where the hell that came from I don't even know.' Femme rolled her eyes at him, leaning on the bar and twisting her torso so she was facing him.
' I said wanna be, not you are. I ask what's bugging you, you tell me to drop it, I try to fix it and you only get even deeper inside your head. And I know that in your head is a crap place to be, so out with it. Now, before I get even pissier.'
Marshall slowly put the beer back on the bar, tapping the rim at the bottom on the glass countertop a couple of times. Femme stayed stubbornly silent, waiting impatiently.
' I..' Marshall sighed and stopped, his head dropping as he lapsed into a silence even thicker than the one preceding it.

' I ain't kidding around here, VK. Talk, or I'll make you.' Marshall eyed her apprehensively. That wasn't an empty threat. She had once broken a guitar over his head for magically (semi permanently) tattooing his name on her lower back when she was passed out drunk, back in the decidedly more hectic and carefree days when they were 'touring' (More or less a roadtrip with instruments in the back instead of pool toys.)
' Whoa there, Fembot. I've already been scratched up and bruised by one girl tonight, I don't need it from you too.' Femme sneered at him childishly, wrinkling her noise and nasally mimicking some of his words.
' Scratched up by one girl tonight. Cut it out.'
' I just... Right now I'm really- look, there's a lot of weird shit going on at the moment, and I don't know why or what or how so... So.' Marshall-lee ended rather anticlimactically, then running his fingers through his hair till his head was cradled in his elbows and banging it against the counter once.
' I'm confused. I don't understand the most basic stuff anymore, it just doesn't make sense. Nothing makes sense.' He mumbled, and Femme was glad that she had leaned in close enough to hear him over the thumping bass that was noisily trying to interfere with the conversation.
' There's that whiny bitch I knew you wanted to be. C'mon, we're getting out of here.' Femme said, shifting off of her stool and grabbing Marshall's arm. She tugged him out of the bar, leaving behind a roll of lipstick-stained notes in her empty wine glass.

' You want some bourbon?' Femme offered, showing Marshall a curvy bottle of caramel liquid as they trailed through the ruins of the metropolis. Marshall skirted a large fallen chunk of concrete and raised an eyebrow at his companion.
' When did you get that?'
' Nicked it off some sad hobo at the end of the bar when we were walking out.' Marshall accepted this without comment. It was exactly the kind thing Femme would do, steal a lonely depressed man's alcohol without a second thought. She didn't consider others unless they meant something to her. He used to do similar things, but he always had real malicious intent instead of simple apathy. Femme didn't think or care enough to actually want to hurt people, she did it without trying. He used to want that, so there was no guilt. But now he thought differently.
' Yeah, I'll have some.' Femme passed it over and Marshall had a couple mouthfuls, appreciatively growling at the burning sensation spreading down his throat when he swallowed.
' Hm. Good shit.'
' Yup, now give it back.' Femme took the bottle off him and then plonked herself down on what had once been a large flat flower bed in the center of a city square. Half of the area was inaccessible now, as the skyscraper that had once been one of the sides had fallen, the steel girders failing and dumping tons of plaster and glass all over one side of the pebbled sidewalk. Marshall sat down on a conveniently shaped piece of rubble and waited for her inevitable question.
' So what doesn't make sense?' Marshall silently gestured for the bottle again and Femme handed it over without protest, watching him expectantly as he took another long drink then wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt, sighing. He had left his hoodie in the bar.
' I don't.'
' Of course you don't. Can you be more vague, VK?'
' I'm serious, Femme. I've never been like this before, and it's creepin' me out.'
' You still haven't told me what 'this' is.' Femme countered dryly, reaching for the bourbon. Marshall took another quick slug before he passed it back, welcoming the calming, blurring cloud he could feel slowly descending. It wouldn't last long, as demons are resistant to alcohol and vampires almost indifferent, but it would be nice not to think or over-analyse for at least a little while. He'd been doing too much of it recently, and now he kinda understood why Gumbutt was such a hardass.

' There's... Something happened, a couple days ago, and ever since then I've just been so-' He trailed off and covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes with balls of his palms. It was so hard to explain, because he felt if he talked too much about what he was feeling, then the suspicions he was slowly gaining would be proved true, and he didn't want that. More correctly, he was afraid of that.
' Did you kill someone? Found out you've accidentally fathered a child? Help me out here.'
' Nah, none of that stuff. It's not that- well, it's not that bad, but at the same time it's so much worse.' Femme suddenly made a little noise of comprehension, and Marshall-lee glanced towards her to see her nodding sagely, a grin cracking across her features.
' Ah, I know. Lady troubles. Someone finally managed to make it out of your pants and into you heart, heh?' Marshall stared at her for a couple seconds, with an expression somewhere between dismay and disappointment.
' You phr- Ph- Uhm, the way you said that was so ridiculous I want to say no-'
' But you can't.'
' ...Not really.' Femme passed him back the bottle and sat back, tapping the back of her boots on the concrete divider she was sitting atop of.
' So what's wrong with that then? Did you fuck her and now she wants nothing to do with you?'
' Nah, I haven't even-' Femme cut him off by suddenly jerking upright, a hand going to her mouth.
' No way, no no no. Don't tell me you've fallen for someone without even doing her first, that's impossible. No way Marshall-lee, son of the Devil, Leader of the Rock Gods and King of the Vampires is stuck with unrequited, innocent puppy-love.' Marshall, who had been drinking from the bottle again, almost choked at the end of her sentence and hit himself in the chest once, throwing Femme an annoyed look as he winced when the burning painfully spread to his lungs.
' Who said anything about- It's not... No-one's 'falling' for anyone, alright? And nothing about this shit is innocent. I d-don't even-' He stuttered slightly and trailed off, unsure of how he intended to end the sentence. Both parties were silent for a few seconds.

' You n-nearly made me waste good alcohol.' Marshall added moodily, eying Femme as he finished off the rest of the bottle. She pouted at him when he smashed the bottle on the ground.
' Drunkard.'
' Fuck up.' He replied, his words slightly slurred as the amount of drugs in his system overrided all of his magical predispositions. He got up off the concrete piece and dusted his butt off, making it clear he was about to leave.
' Where you off to?' Marshall ignored her, humming quietly to himself. His walk only showed the slightest bit of wobble, but the second he was back in the air you wouldn't have known he was completely scrambled. Femme decided to follow him, to prevent him from doing anything stupid. Scratch that, abnormally stupid. The regular stupid stuff was funny to watch him attempt.

Femme decided against turning into the owl and instead shape shifted into a small nightingale, making sure he wouldn't notice her as he drifted. She could hear him singing as he went, and although the words were a little blurry his pitch was as perfect as ever. Apparently, that hadn't changed from when he had occasionally performed with the band rip-roaring drunk and still managed to pull it off. She reckoned there were at least twenty five gigs they had done that Marshall-lee had absolutely no recollection of.

'I'm talkin' bout blue eyes, blue eyes
What's the matter, matter?
Blue eyes, blue eyes
What's the matter, matter?'

Femme hadn't heard this one before. It was quite pretty, bouncy and genial. Ew.
Marshall suddenly began to dip in the sky again, and she followed him, noticing he was heading for his house. She had always wondered whether living in a tree was a problem for him. If there was a storm or whatever and the thing got damaged, how was he supposed to fix it without burning up?
Oddly enough, there appeared to be some light coming from one of the rooms up in the top, where his bedroom was last time she checked. Marshall wouldn't leave lights on while he was gone.
Uh-oh. What if he had a ladyfriend, but they were going through strife right now? And she'd only compounded that by giving him the opportunity to do some other girl? Wasn't her fault he'd taken the opportunity, but that would explain why he was so not-happy after getting laid. Poor bastard felt guilty about it. She would've probably cut her losses and skedaddled if this had happened to her. Not that it ever did, she didn't date.

'So blind, so blind
What's the matter, matter?
Blue eyes, blue eyes...'

Marshall was looking through the window that had the lights on now, and he stopped singing for a moment and sighed. Femme morphed back into her usual, mousy brown-haired self and flattened against the side of the tree. She managed to find a branch hidden in the leaves and stood on it, stopping herself from falling by gripping the side of the window.
Marshall's expression was oddly tender, but also resembled a small child trying to understand a foreign concept. Confused and desperate.
' She... Her eyes are so pretty. J-just like... Y'know, I just realised I never asked f-for her name. The water demon girl at the bar. But I really didn't care and I s-still don't.' Marshall tripped quietly through his words, the golden candle light from inside the room illuminating his face. Femme twisted over and looked inside, to see a blonde girl wearing nothing but her underwear and a rabbit-eared hat, sitting on her bed with a pair of red pajamas draped across her lap. Even from here, she could see that her fingers were trembling as she held the fabric, and Femme momentarily wondered what was so shocking about fuzzy crimson footie pajamas.
' I though t-that her eyes were like hers, but...' Marshall gestured helplessly into the window and Femme tried to see what he was seeing, but her angle prevented her from doing so.
' Bunny's beautiful baby-blues.' He murmured, and Femme looked at him disbelievingly. She had never heard him wax lyrical about a woman's eyes before. That was completely out of character.

' Marshall, why is she in your house half-naked if you haven't slept together and why are you creeping on her through the window?' Femme asked after a minute or so of silence. Marshall-lee shook his head and blinked, then looked over at Femme, and she could see that the drink-fog was starting to lift.
' This isn't... Uh... Oh s-shit.' He muttered, looking between Femme and the window. Suddenly he did a double take and he stared into the window, one of his hand flying up to his mouth and he bit his knuckle. The shock of pain completely flicked him back to sobriety. Well, that didn't last long.
' Oh shit. Oh... Oh shit.' Marshall backed away from the window jerkily, like he had to force himself to, and shot back up into the sky. Femme, slightly shell-shocked, took a few moments before she jumped off the tree and turned into a hawk, streaking after him. Pretty soon she was next to him again, watching the wind whip through his hair and bring tears to his eyes with it's force. That was the only reason he'd have tears in his eyes, right?
' Marshall, slow down!'
' Fuck off Femme, go away!' He yelled back, gritting his teeth and preparing to go even faster. Femme saw this and clawed at his back before it could happen, feeling her talons sink into the skin of his shoulder blade as she grimly clung on. Marshall cried out in pain and dropped out of the sky, tearing at her feathers in order to try and get her off. Femme snapped at his fingers with her powerful hooked beak and Marshall hissed at her in retaliation, his eyes dark, frightened and frightening. They hit the ground a second later, the wind being knocked out of both of them and Femme morphed back into her usual form as she rolled across the the reasonable flat piece of grassland, coughing.

' Marshall, what the fuck!?' She screamed at him when she got up and saw that he was still on his knees, cussing incoherently.
' Shut up, just shut the fuck up!' Marshall growled back, his fingers fisting in his hair as he curled over himself in the grass, rocking back and forth slightly. Femme walked over to him and viciously kicked him in the stomach, which instead of firing him up like she had hoped it would, only made him grunt slightly and curl up tighter.
' Fuck you, Marshall-lee! Fuck you and fuck your cryptic words!' She dropped to her knees and pummeled his back, her fists becoming covered in the blackish blood that was slowly leaking from the cuts she had left. She stopped, panting, after a few moments. Marshall had shown no reaction whatsoever and Femme sighed and fell back onto her butt, shaking her head at him.
' Fuck you, Marshall.' She groaned half-heartedly, annoyed at how definitely this night had not gone the way she intended it to go. Whatever happened to fun? This guy used to live for it, and now...

' What did I say about her?' Marshall mumbled, his forehead still dangerously close to a meeting with his knees. Femme studied him for a few moments.
' You kept talking about how much you liked her eyes, and how you thought they were like the chick you had banged but your girl's were better.' Marshall made a small pained noise at this information, and Femme saw his fingers clench in his hair.
' I wanna fuck her so fucking hard.' He moaned. Femme fanned her face, glaring at him cynically. He swore a lot when he was stressed. Stupid outlet, but an outlet all the same.
' Is that what this is all about? Then fuck her for Gob's sake. And stop with all this moping. Why did you even get with the chick at the pub if she wasn't-'
' Because I was hoping she would be! I was hoping I just wanted to fuck her, not fuck her. But- But...' Femme leaned forward and put a hand on Marshall's back, huffing at a piece of her hair that had fallen in her eyes.
' Marshall, c'mon.' He looked up at her and Femme was shocked to see that he was once again on the verge of tears. She had barely ever seen him cry. Marshall-lee didn't get sad or scared. He didn't look frustrated and afraid, He was never this emotional about anything. He didn't care enough, or at least that's what she had always believed.
' Femme, a few days ago we were just friends and I thought she was hot, but I didn't want her like this. I didn't need her like this. And I need her, specifically. I need her so fucking bad. Even now, I'm in fucking hell, and I don't mean like the Nightosphere. I wanna touch her and hold her and taste her, and I don't even know how I'm not in her room right now, tying her to the bed again because that's fucking it. That's the only thing I want to do, that's all I can think about, and I-I... I think I might... That she might somehow... I'm starting to think that she's fucking it. And I.. I'm scared.'

' I-I don't know what to tell ya.' Femme stammered eventually. This was completely out of her depth. She had never seen anyone break in this way before, and she had actively avoided being responsible for picking up the pieces of even the tiniest mess.
Marshall-lee looked at her for a few seconds and she saw something pass through his expression that she didn't like. It made her feel inadequate.
'... I'm going home.' Marshall muttered, picking himself up off the grass and starting to walk, rolling his shoulder painfully and running the fingers of his other hand along the edge of the scratches as he went. Femme simply watched, kneeling on the grass.
' But we just came from your-'
' That's not mine anymore. It's hers.' Marshall-lee sighed, his eyebrows pulling together as he closed his eyes and almost immediately, her lips shaping his name projected onto the screen of his mind. So hard to stay away.
' It's Fionna's.'

Femme stood up and looked back in the direction they had come from, suddenly trying to reason against an insatiable hunger to discover who had so much power over the most efficient and deadly playboy she had ever known. A little blonde girl called Fionna had just become the biggest man-slayer ever. And she wore a bunny hat.
How could she resist the temptation to figure out what the hell was going on with that?

Author's note: Weeelll, that was a bit of a blockbuster chapter. Lots happening, lots going on. The whole thing with alcohol is my personal headcanon, I don't think demons and monsters would process poison the same way we would. Marshall also had enough booze (He was drinking with the demon girl too) for your average drinker to faceplant in the street. Instead he was drunk for roughly half an hour. Immortality, people. It has it's pros and cons, and many are interchangeable.
So, has anybody got any theories about what's going on with Marshall? And how do you think Fionna's feeling right now? Communicate darlings, I'd love to hear from you :)

-WRA