Chapter 2: talking

Cake shivered as she felt the cool Cotten pad against her neck, the alcohol leaving an unattractive smell in her nose. Her nape felt numb once he pulled away and she took a deep breath. Fionna sat in a chair next to her, a bored look upon her face as she watched Marshall prepare his tattoo gun. His latex gloves smoothed over Cakes neck and she took a deep breath.

"You nervous?" Fionna asked her. She nodded and took her friends hand. Fionna rolled her eyes and smiled slightly.

"You got yourself in to this. I honestly thought you would've been tougher," Fionna teased as the faint buzz of the machine suddenly flicked on. Cake flinched at the sound and squeezed Fionna's hand.

"Is it gone hurt a lot?" She asked shutting her eyes.

"Uh, yeah. I'm literally about to stab you repeatedly with a needle dipped in color," he said. Fionna glared at him as she felt Cake squeeze her hand tighter. Marshall noticed her disapproving look and hated to think about how cute yet intimidating she looked at the same time. "What?"

"At least try to be sensitive, she's scared," she spoke harshly and rubbed Cake's shoulder.

"I'm just telling it how it is," he defended.

"'Telling it how it is' is a great way to scare the shit out of your customers," she snarked.

"My customers usually know what they're getting themselves into and I don't have to," he retorted shutting off the gun.

"You can't expect all your customers to be fully informed about tattoos, how many tourists have you scared 'telling it how it is'?"

"None. They're too excited to even listen," he answered starting to get irritated.

"Guys?" Cake spoke.

"I don't even know why tourists get a tattoo, it's barely a souvenir and if you ask me its a waste of time, money, and pain."

"Well, it's a good thing I didn't ask you, isn't it?" He growled setting down the gun entirely.

"Well, maybe you should've. It's not a surprise you didn't since you obviously have no consideration for others," she snarked.

"Guys, serious-"

"I have consideration for others!" He snapped.

"Is that why you scared Cake about something she's never done before? Plus, the way you said it was kinda rude," she jibed.

"How was it rude?"

"It sounded like you thought she was dumb for not knowing everything about stupid tattooing."

"It's the basic concept of tattoos!"

"Guys! Shut it!" Cake shouted. Fionna gaped and then shut her mouth while Marshall kept his as a thin angry line. "I just want a purple and pink butterfly tattoo on the back of my neck, could you guys not argue while that's happening?" She snapped. They both nodded. "Thank you. Marshall, please continue."

The machine clicked on again and buzzed as Marshall tore his glare from Fionna's and started on Cake's nape. She winched, but stayed relatively still as he worked. Her body shivered, and Fionna rubbed her thumb against the back of Cake's hand to comfort her. Cake had never had a high pain tolerance, so Fionna was honestly surprised she was so willing to get a tattoo. On the other hand, she's always been a bit unpredictable. After about a half an hour Marshall took the gun from her neck and the buzzing stopped. He wiped her neck one last time and sealed it with a soft bandage.

"Keep that on for 2-24 hours, and when you take it off gently wash it with Lukewarm water and unscented soap. Don't hold it directly under the water and pat it with a paper towel then let it air dry. After that apply some ointment. Do that 3-5 times a day until it's fully healed. It'll take anywhere from 3-6 weeks. Don't work out, or wear tight clothing, or scratch it, or submerge it it water. Also avoid direct sunlight and swelling," he instructed as he cleaned off his gun.

"Got it," Cake smiled and reached up to wipe away some wetness from her eyes.

"You okay? How you feeling?" Fionna asked while rubbing her back.

"Well, it was definitely a pain in the neck," she joked. Marshall chuckled and Fionna giggled, leaning her head on her shoulder and patting her arm.

"Good one, Cake," she smiled.

"Thanks. It did hurt, but not as much as I anticipated," Cake smiled back.

"Good, I'm glad you're not dying from the pain," Fionna teased. Cake laughed a bit and got off the chair. She had already paid Marshall for his services before he had started.

"Hey, Fi, you wanna go get a few drinks down at Marty's?" Cake asked.

"Sure, but only one. I don't wanna stay up too late," Fionna replied.

"Awesome," she then turned to Marshall and beamed. "You wanna come with us?" Fionna nearly choked on her own spit. Did Cake seriously ask him that! Why! It was obvious they were oil and water! Him joining them would be a bad idea!

"Uh…now?" He furrowed his brows and looked at his watch.

"Yeah, it's been a while since we got a drink, and you seem pretty cool," she said.

"Um, I dunno. I'm working tomorrow," he told her.

"You work Saturdays?" Fionna asked out of the blue. He looked over to her.

"Yea, I take Sunday's off instead."

"That's interesting, most of the shops close on Saturdays," she replied.

"Yeah, well when I'm the only shop open its busier than usual," he explained.

"I guess that makes some sense…" she mumbled. Cake grinned as Fionna looked away from Marshall and to the floor.

"Anyways, how about just one drink?" Cake offered. Marshall turned back to her and scratched his head.

"I guess one drink wouldn't hurt anything," he said.

"Awesome!"

"Marty's is seriously the coolest bar ever. Have you ever been?" Cake asked Marshall as they approached the quaint bar.

"No, I moved down to this part of town a few months ago. I used to live uptown with my parents," he told her.

"Wow, I heard uptown is really fancy. Did they sell anything dipped in gold like watches, rings, shoes, purses, ice cream?" Marshall chuckled.

"No, but everyone is rich or their parents are rich, and everyone is a snob. I didn't really like it up there," he explained as they entered the bar. Fionna was silent as the two continued their conversation and they sat at the nearly empty bar.

"What'll it be for tonight?" The bartender asked.

"Three beers, please," Cake ordered politely with a smile.

"Tap or bottle?"

"Bottle is fine," she replied.

The bartender nodded and set out a beer in front of each of them. Fionna sat with Cake as a divider between herself and Marshall, silently drinking her beer as they talked. She spoke a few times whenever Cake talked to her or asked a question, other than that she was silently wishing she was at home. If it was just Cake she would be fine, but that tattoo guy irritated her for some reason. Whenever she glanced over at him she found that he was already looking at her. His eyes quickly shifted back to Cake when she simply turned her head towards him. What was his problem? Did he wanna fight? She would fight him. She had no doubt she could kick his ass in five seconds. Now when she glanced over she was glaring, and rolled her eyes in disgust whenever he lingered his gaze. She finished her beer first and called for another one, getting more worked up over his possibly threatening gazes. Fionna was so fucking ready to beat this guy up. One more look and he was going down.

"I gotta go to the bathroom, be right back," Cake said with a hiccup and a slight giggle as she ran off to the little girls room. Fionna sighed deeply and met the halfway mark of her second beer. She looked over one more time and nearly pulled out her hair when she met his gaze. She glared at him and looked him up and down. He had a little muscle, but he was mostly skinny scrawny. She could totally pummel his ass in to the ground.

"What the fuck is your deal?" She asked harshly after realizing he wasn't looking away.

"Huh?"

"You keep looking at me. What do you want?" She questioned sipping her beer again.

"Nothing…you're the one who's been glaring at me this whole time," he pointed out.

"Because you keep looking at me. What? You wanna fight me?" She asked turning in her stool to face him. He looked at her in confusion.

"Fight you? You think I want to fight you?" She nodded.

"Why else would you be starring at me?" He shrugged and shifted to the edge of his stool so he was closer to her.

"I dunno, maybe I think your pretty and I like looking at you," he said leaning his elbow on the bar. She blushed and hardened her glare.

"S-shut up, you don't think that," she grumbled turning back to her beer. He chuckled.

"I actually do think you're pretty. You're very pretty. Dare I say it, you're absolutely gorgeous," he smirked as her cheeks got redder with each word. She gulped the rest of her beer and called for a third.

"You're so annoying," she growled and sipped her third. Marshall rolled his eyes, he wasn't getting anywhere fast with her. He didn't know how long he had until Cake came back.

"I get it, you hate me. Can you drop that? I don't even know why you hate me," he scoffed. Her eyes flicked over to see him glaring at his own bottle as well.

"Because you're so cocky and full of yourself. You don't care about others, and you're just annoying," she said.

"What else would I be filled with? There's no one else inside me, so why don't I take up some space?" Fionna rolled her eyes.

"God, you're just…" she turned to him and scrunched her lips angrily, unsure of how to really express in words how aggravating she found him. "Ugh! You're just ugh!"

"I'm 'ugh'? What does that mean?" He questioned facing her again.

"It means we can't get along, no matter how hard we try you'll always be so annoying," she tried to explain, leaning forward to intimidate him.

"Maybe if you tried to remove that stick up your ass I wouldn't be so annoying," he retorted leaning forward as well. Her jaw dropped in offense.

"God, why did Cake even invite you. Right now you're the stick up my ass," she jibed.

"I guess we just can't be around each other, can we?"

"No, we can't."

"Fine."

"Fine." Marshall then got up out of his seat, but instead of walking out the door he marched straight up to Fionna and placed his lips over hers. Her almost drunk brain barely registered it, and she clutched the front of his shirt. Marshall let his arm snake around her waist as he pulled back. "Fine."