AN: Hello all, bit of background info for you to explain the use of contemporary geography in Finn Grows Up. Best my research can tell me, the land of Ooo is essentially on an island within a giant water-filled crater of bombed out Europe, like the impact crater on the Gulf of Mexico made by the rock that killed the dinosaurs. Based on that assumption, the Silver Tower would be in Canada, near Repulse Bay. Also, go back and reread the last chapter if you like, Marceline and Finn's sequence at the end has been revamped. I know my editing seems like an afterthought, but it takes me so long to churn these out sometimes that I like to drop them as soon as they resemble ready to me. I'm beginning to see how my writing process can negatively effect the final product. Despite my way with words, I really am a novice when it comes to the craft of writing fiction.

Chapter 17: An Obvious Threat

Waking for Marceline the Vampire Queen could rarely be called pleasant, but the immortal bard of bad immediately knew that this, as odd as it seemed to her foggy morning mind, definitely qualified. There was the solid, still squeeze that she immediately recognized as 100% male, which, considering where she was, helped her quickly work out just what was going on. Her confusion reverted to silent groggy contentment but the brief stir elicited a quiet mumble from the young man snorring to the morning sun.

Sun? Sun! There the great god of light hung, still close to the sea of clouds on the horizon but up and burning in all its radiance. Burning, but Marcie sure wasn't; whatever superglass the window was doubtlessly comprised of clearly didn't permit the entry of the wash of radiation that would turn her pale body to cinder and ash. She sat up, letting the covers fall low so she could see the sunlight, or whatever sliver of its emissions was actually reaching her, stretch across the skin of her arms and shoulders. The glow was not as warm as she remembered, but the feeling was there nonetheless.

Then another sound of complaint, and the arms looped about her squeezed tighter; the whisper of a giggle was perhaps the most girlish sound Marceline felt herself capable of making. Careful not to disturb him, the vampiress slouched a touch less, till she could cradle his snoozing head in her lap. The look on his face seemed to warm the pit of cold at her center, just a touch, and she could feel her heart ache like first love. There she lay, swaddled in soft sheets, smooth skin, and sacred sunshine. Jake lay at the foot of the bed, snoozing peacefully; he must have thrown a pitch to Thoros on why Finn would desire his presence, same as she had.

"I wanna make a ray of sunshine," she mumbled, stroking his flaxen hair as she played back the evening previous. "Congradulations, Finn Mertens, you got a hardcore punk to sing a whole honkin' love song. Gonna have to play something heavy later." Careful not to disturb the newly crowned prince of this grand yet tranquil domain, the vampire queen slipped away to wash her face and brush her teeth, returning quick as she could. She sat beside him for a bit, not seeing any way to cuddle closer without rousing her partner. Eventually the young augmentee felt her presence on the bed and seized her with a lazy embrace.

Finn's steady breath took a sudden stop, and then he rolled over, gazing up at her with a groggy sapphire look that slowly displayed a similar recollection. "So that was a real thing," he said, struggling for words. "Not a dream thing."

"Seems real enough to me," Marcie said, brushing Finn's pillow-tousled hair away from his clear sky eyes; no amount of material science was going to put an end to bedhead, it'd seem. "Unless this zany pad is a figment of my imagination."

"Why, didn't get a good look during your little serenade?" Finn earned himself a bop on the sternum.

"No, dummy," came the teasing response. "And just so we're clear, obviously that never leaves this room. If you wreck my metal cred I'll gut you and cook you, Mertens."

Finn was awake enough by now to fall into the game. "Ever the predator," he jabbed. "Marceline tha Vampire Queen, always ready to chew a foo'."

Marceline rolled her eyes and gave a fanged snarl. "Go wash up while I change," she ordered. Finn yelped and laughed as she pushed him out of bed, and then set about her clothing.

"Feels like it's probably gonna be an action day," she thought. She'd packed plenty of actiony stuff; in the end the selection was a pair of fatigues in a vaguely winter pattern, her most plain, practical pair of goth boots, and a characteristically gruesome band t-shirt. "Iron Maiden has love songs," the rocker said with a nod as she considered the giant zombie psychic's rictus grin. "The Evil That Men Do is plenty heavy for me, yes sir yes ma'am."

She hummed the guitar riff to herself as she ambled over to the food synth, studying the controls for a moment before ordering up two mugs of coffee. "Breakfast, bright-eyes?" she called into the bathroom. Thia synth had the same sweeping international menu as the ones in the train station, but Marceline was fairly confident that being too culinarily adventurous so early in the morning could have an unwelcome result, and selected a simple egg sandwich with tomato.

Finn stumbled from the bathroom, a plume of steam following him. "Come again?" he said, blowing a lock of damp hair from his face.

"Breakfast, ya galumph," the vamp shot back. Marceline stuck herself down at the other side of the table, sipping her coffee idly as Finn bent his lean form to peer at the screen, clad in just his sword-covered PJ bottoms. "Most important meal of the day, makes sure your guns don't waste away." Finn flexed himself into an Atlas-ish pose at that comment, earning a chuckle and a shake of the head from his undead paramour, before he eyed the screen once more. An exploratory Finn materialized himself a plate of shakshuka, a Mediterranean dish of poached eggs in a spiced tomato-pepper sauce, and the two sat down and ate.

Finn gave Marceline a careful appraisal. The good ol' Marceline too-cool-to-be-read bravado was back, but there was an air of caring to it that reminded him of the bottomless trust he'd witnessed last night.

Part of his retreat from that aura had been exhaustion, sure enough. But the fact that Finn couldn't begin to formulate an idea of what to do with that state certainly hadn't helped things along. Marceline was such a dynamic, evocative personality, always acting and never being acted upon. The last human began to wonder how he ever considered love intimidating before.

Marceline slid one of the mugs closer too him, emanating a milkshakey scent. She read his facial reaction, and said with a chuckle, "I guess you're not much for caffeine?"

"Not often, I usually just get myself up with Finn-power," came the response, but Finn felt a huge yawn come through almost as soon as he said it.

"Drink it," she said. "C'mon, I had the synth make it extra wimpy."

That remark tasted like a challenge to the last human, who took a big swig, and then another. Whatever Marcie had told the synthesizer to put in the brew did a marvelous job of complementing the bitter flavor, and half a mug later Finn conceded to the magnitude of coffee's recuperative power. There was another moment of bliss that Finn captured in crystallized memory; a quiet meal spent joking quietly and sharing looks with tired morning eyes.

Once they were done, Finn dressed and belted on his sword while Marceline roused Jake, and they headed out together. As they crossed the central chamber Finn eyed the command chair and its ring of holographic projectors on the ceiling. No doubt there'd be business with that still unexplored device.

"Thoros," he queried. "Do you know what the gang is up to?"

"Most are out exploring the city," came the response. "However, Princess Bubblegum is attempting to gain unauthorized access to the Fuller; your assistance in dealing with her would be greatly appreciated."

"That don't sound good," Jake lamented.

"Not one bit," Marcie agreed, and Finn just nodded, setting his jaw as they hopped into a pod and sped down the side of the Blade.

The moment the pod doors opened, Finn could tell this was a mess. PB, backed by a squad of Gumball Guards, was trading remarks with the implacable crystal intelligence. "Access to the command chamber is permissible by the word of the current lord or lady, no exceptions."

Bonnibel pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Forget the room then, there's a crazy honking aircraft carrier snooping around my kingdom, and you're telling me you can't use any assets in this facility to keep an obvious threat from my shores?"

"Not without the word of the Lord Finn" Thoros iterated again. "Seeking access to the tower's defensive grid specifically only makes your demands more ridiculous." Seeing his master arrive, Thoros glowed a touch brighter. "Ah, perfect."

"What's the globin' problem?" Finn enquired, one thumb hooked into a pocket, the other resting easy on the pommel of his sword. The arguing monarch and construct both voiced complaints and accusations at once, prompting him to hold up his hands till they silenced. "Nevermind, I caught most of it. Thoros, I'm not savvy to all the beef you've had with each other till now. But we're all in the same boat on this planet, and right now, the Candy Kingdom is the most staunch pal the Silver Tower has. If Peebs need help, you give it too her. Capisce?"

If Thoros was insulted, he didn't show it. "Understood," he said.

"Well, now that that's been squished, command throne?" The gang moved to board pods, and reconvened in the throne room. Finn sat, and the projection ring came smoothly online. Information spilled before Finn's eyes, a total map of the Silver Tower's defensive systems; missile, plasma, and laser-based weapon stations, sensor systems, and hangars for air, land, and sea-based vehicles, as well as internal security units. Finn thought back to the planes that buzzed them on the way in, and searched the displayed information until he found them, sitting in hangars at the lowest levels of the Blade; he then realized that the latice of supporting beams that separated the great transparent panels forming the roof for the Hilt were in fact a system of runways and landing pads. "Find me this carrier," Finn ordered, and the displays of forces and assets transitioned into one of sensor data, revealing the detections of the tower's assorted eyes and ears; radar, sonar, infrared, magnetics... The list ground on, as the Tower had been designed as much as a scientific station as it was a fortress-city. Once the list was complete, Thoros began to filter through the flow of information, isolating emissions of interest, particularly magnetic and sonar readings.

"Here we are. Eight contacts; two cruisers, three destroyers, two attack submarines, and one submersible supercarrier." Threat profiles spilled from the projection ring; technical specifications accompanied each image, and finally a globe with a zoomed perspective on the Silver Tower's immediate vecinity. Eight faint red dots displayed the suspected locations of the hostile ships, loitering just out of range of the tower's long-range missiles.

"That carrier is a nasty model," Peebs offered. "1100 meters; if I remember right, it has an onboard factory. By now it's probably replaced everything it threw at us in the grasslands."

"Then we stop it now, before it can launch another attack," Finn said firmly. "Thoros, how long till we can strike?"

"As long as they remain so distant, the only viable option is an air assault. I can have a strike package capable of inserting your team via gunship ready in four hours."

"If that ship can go underwater, how do we know they won't just dive?" brainstormed Jake.

"If it doesnt surface to launch a counterattack, we'll just wreck the surface fleet while the carrier runs scared," Peebs suggested, and Finn gave a nod of affirmation.

"Alright peeps, get read for a big ol' tango. We're going sub hunting." PB and her escort moved to head back down the Fuller to gather the others. When Finn moved to follow, however, Thoros hovered close.

"Lord Finn, if you mean to move against your foe, there is a treasure here you'd best claim now." Finn gave Thoros his attention, and the intelligence lead him to the far wall behind the throne, where he shined a light against the dull grey metal. A seamless hidden door slid open, and Thoros bid fin to step inside.

Within, sat upon a small pedestal topped with a soft cushion was a sheathed sword, built much like the one Finn had already secured to his waist. Finn grasped the scabbard and tugged the blade free. It had a wide circular guard, and this blade was just past two feet short short, double-edged, and broad of blade with a tough tip, built for violent hacking and wide penetrating wounds. Finn felt something under his thumb, a bit of give that he pursued until it slid back; with a click and a hiss, a rib along the flats of this blade filled with electric blue. "This blade contains a pulse caster, to double as both a sidearm and offhand short sword," Thoros explained. Finn didn't answer, already considering its use in the coming battle looming on the horizon.