Did everyone have a good Christmas? I hope so! I spent it with my parents and aunt, it was nice. Still in something of a turkey coma.

So I know that for those of you following Continuum too I owe you an update, it's just that the next chapter needs a massive rewrite to make it Stakes compliant. So hopefully I'll get that done soon but this was all ready to post and staring pointedly at me, so I figured I'd just go ahead and post it.

Content warning: anxiety attacks, mostly unintentional physical intimidation, references to PTSD. It's starting to get dark in here.

"So she's not out yet. So? Don't you remember how scary coming out was?"

"No. I remember casually mentioning to my Mum that I had a crush on a girl at school and that was that, no fuss. I mean its twenty first century Britain, who's scared to come out any more?"

Finn just shook his head and shared a significant look with Susan over his tea mug. They'd holed themselves up in the lounge of Bonnie's apartment, commandeering the sofa from Lydia and whatever her current boy toy was called that week. Finn thought this one might be a Bradley or a Philip but he hadn't actually bothered to check. Lydia would have moved on to someone new by the time he next came over to their apartment anyway.

Bonnie hadn't been to her lectures, hadn't left the house or even gotten changed out of her pyjamas that morning. Apparently things hadn't gone as perfectly with her weird hospital date as she'd hoped and now she was having a continuous low level meltdown about it. Eventually Lydia had gotten sick of her moping and called Finn to come and help. He loved Bonnie to bits and he knew Susan was fond of her too but sometimes the redhead could be difficult to deal with, stubborn and fixated on small negatives. For one of the most scarily intelligent people he'd ever met Bonnie could be amazingly dumb when it came to looking after her own emotional wellbeing.

"Do you really think homophobia doesn't exist anymore? Is that what you're saying?" Susan asked, a little too loudly. Bonnie flushed and curled into a tighter ball in her corner of the sofa, wrapping her arms over her head miserably.

"No! Of course I know homophobia exists, I'm not saying that." she mumbled in reply, peeking out from between her arms at them. "Just, why was she so embarrassed at being caught with me? She doesn't even live with that guy; he's just some random kid from her building!"

Susan rolled her eyes. Bonnie flushed again and curled harder around herself, defeated.

"It just hurts to get pushed away like that." she mumbled into her sleeve.

"Not as much as getting beaten up by your neighbours hurts." Finn said gently. "Bon, you're out and happy and comfortable and that's wonderful. But you've gotta remember not everyone is as smart as you, or has as much experience as you or lives in the same level of safety as you. You've gotta be patient with people especially if they're in a different place than you in their lives. It might not be safe for her to be open about her sexuality, or she might still be working out how she identifies. Maybe you get the huge honour of being the first girl she's ever fancied and now she's dealing with coming to terms with that. We just don't know."

"I really like her." Bonnie muttered, still not able to look up and meet Finn's eyes. "And I thought she liked me back. But now I wonder if maybe I imagined the whole thing. Maybe I misread it. Maybe I'm just a stupid moron who builds all these fantasy scenarios in my head and then I get let down and it's all my own fault because I'm so fucking stupid and-"

Finn reached over and drew the shaking ball of distressed redhead into as close a hug as he could, cutting off the stream of her self-loathing before it could get too vicious.

"Shut up. Just... shut up and listen, Bonnie. You're brilliant. Alright? Brilliant. Like, the best person I know. Know how I know that? Cause I know you, Bon, I've known you for years. Nobody else is qualified to tell you how brilliant you are. And trust me, that girl is definitely interested in you, cause you're amazing. She just needs you to understand. It's not as easy for her as it is for you for whatever reason. But if you're patient and gentle with her and take it slow and give her time and space when she needs it then you just might get to find out if she's loud enough to wake the neighbours."

Bonnie sniffled and punched his shoulder lightly.

"Pervert." she replied a little wetly.

"It's just one more reason you love me." Finn replied with his trademark grin.

Susan came and joined the hug too, slumping down heavily across both of them and enveloping them in her muscular arms.

"You're a lucky person." she said thickly. "So many people love you. Stop saying awful things about yourself."

Bonnie just nodded and held onto them both. Susan was right, she was so lucky to have such awesome friends.

...

how would you like to come to another show plus overnight accommodation plus dinner plus my sparkling company? x x x

It took a very long time for Marceline's phone to light up with a reply, but when it did she sighed in open relief. She'd been so worried that Bonnie was angry with her for pushing her away when Mo had ambushed them that night after they'd been at the hospital together. She just couldn't face the awkward conversations with Mo that would have arisen from him catching them- doing what? She wasn't even completely sure herself what her intentions had been until she'd seen the other girl's eyes flicker closed as she moved forward. And oh, perhaps a kiss, but then no, Mo and awkwardness and misunderstanding instead. At that point Marceline hadn't been sure what she was even doing, the day had been so confusing and emotional and she may very well have been functioning purely on instinct. Apparently her instincts wanted her to lean in for a goodnight kiss and the more she thought about it the more she really wanted to. But then Bonnie hadn't replied to her message and she'd backed off, given the redhead some space. Her revelation about how badly she'd wanted to kiss the other girl had also made Marcy paranoid about coming on too strongly and scaring Bonnie away. She wasn't exactly an expert at dating. Taking it slow might be the best policy until she could talk to Bonnie face to face again.

What's the catch?

Not the most eloquent message Bonnie had ever sent her, in fact it bordered on terse. But it was a reply at least. Marceline had been worried that the other girl was upset when she'd maintained radio silence all week. It had been an anxious and uncomfortable few days waiting for her to get back in touch.

well i dunno if its a catch exactly but you said you had a car and if i paid you for petrol i was wondering if youd like to go for a bit of a drive? my next show is out of town xxx

Softly-softly was probably the best way forwards, Marceline figured. Because asking someone to drive you hundreds of miles right off the bat was probably bad karma or manners or whatever. Marceline's phone buzzed again and she grabbed it, unaccountably nervous.

Where?

Alright, Bonnie might be a just a little bit pissed at her. She was down to replying with single words. It was difficult to think of a charming and subtle way to provide the information that had been so brusquely requested so in the end Marceline decided to just ask and see where that got her.

i know its a long way but... newcastle? i have a friend who organised a gig for me and its a proper one at the academy and everything theres a really good chance i can get signed to a record label but i need to take my equipment and i cant manage it all on the train and like i said id give you petrol money and pay for a nice hotel and anything else you want x x x

What else could she add to sweeten the deal? Marceline considered but she couldn't think of anything so after a long minute of staring at her phone she hit 'send' and went back to nibbling nervously on the corner of her lip.

She was lying on her stomach in bed, still in her pyjamas and ignoring the steady tap of rain against her window that somehow made the whole room feel much smaller and cosier. It was probably too late in the morning to be snuggled under the duvet still but she had nothing planned for the day. All of the various teens she tutored in the area were in school, the women's centre she volunteered at a couple of days a week hadn't needed her and Simon was being transferred back to Whitehills from hospital. She didn't want to be in the way; she'd go see him once he was settled. So she had an unexpected lie in, curled under her duvet like a caterpillar with her favourite teddy bear Hambo and a reheated bowl of homemade vegan noodles. Marceline listened to the rain and replayed her confusing encounter with Bonnie from every angle she could think of.

Had the other girl just been leaning in for a hug? It was hard to tell; she'd panicked and made the whole thing a million times more awkward than it needed to be when she'd heard someone coming up the stairs. Damn Mo and his terrible timing. Maybe she was reading it all wrong, that was a definite possibility. She'd asked the redhead on plenty of dates to really romantic restaurants. She'd even flirted her butt off and asked her for a ton more information about her bewildering genetics research. Marceline thought she'd made her intentions perfectly clear last time they'd arranged to go out and she'd replied with 'its a date' but evidently Bonnie didn't see it that way. Maybe she'd misread the other girl entirely, maybe she was straight after all. That'd make a lot of sense actually. Marceline wasn't exactly an expert at talking to attractive women either. It would be absolutely typical that her first awkward attempt at dating anyone would turn out to be an uneasy friendship with a beautiful confused straight girl who just liked the snapbacks and converse aesthetic and had a rainbow keyring because she liked rainbows.

Marcy nearly dropped her phone in shock when it began to ring, not just buzz with a text message. Bonnie's face flashed up on the screen, the hasty snap Marceline had sneakily taken of the other girl when she was busy reading the menu in Ramiro's. She answered it cautiously; very aware that Bonnie didn't call people unless it was important and that she seemed to be pretty annoyed with Marceline.

"Hey?"

"Newcastle? Are you fucking serious? As in, Newcastle Upon Tyne, the most northerly city in England? As in, three hundred miles away and a five hour drive? Seriously?"

Well she wasn't replying with just single words anymore, that was a positive, right?

"Yeah, I know it's a long way. But like, I thought it'd be fun, like a road trip! And it's just me, the rest of the band are staying here. They sorta don't know I'm going."

Bonnie didn't reply for a long moment. Marceline could almost feel her disapproval radiating through the phone.

"That's a butt move, Marcy. They deserve to have a shot at getting signed, too."

"Nah not really. If they're any good they'll get signed on their own talent, no need to steal my reflected glory. I mean, Bongo's pretty awesome but he's the best of them. And Bongo doesn't mind if he doesn't make the scene. He's a got a daytime job, he's doing alright. He can play the honky-tonk like anything! Saving it up for Friday night."

"Those are the lyrics to Sultans of Swing, Marceline."

She grinned widely. There weren't many people who noticed when she did that. It was an ongoing joke she and Simon had had when she was younger to see what they could sneak past each other.

"Your knowledge of uncool old dad rock is way impressive, Bon. So is that a yes? I can book us a really nice hotel and we can ride their teeny tiny metro underground system and talk loudly about how it's inferior to the Tube and-"

"Fine! Yes! I'll drive you! But only because I've never been north of Watford before and it'll be like an anthropological study."

"Really? Oh you're the best, you're amazing! Thank you so much you wonderful, beautiful, angelic person!" Marceline beamed down the phone, uncertainty about where she stood with the other girl completely forgotten for the moment.

"Shut up." Bonnie growled, sounding angrier than the praise really warranted.

"Sorry. I just, yeah, thank you so much. If we set off on the Saturday morning we can be there in time to chill for a bit before the gig starts at eight. Is that... acceptable?"

Bonnie breathed out heavily, not quite a sigh but not far off.

"So it's gonna take my whole damn weekend? It had better be a really nice hotel. With a spa."

"Sure! A spa, that sounds lovely. Gotta start living like a rock star, yeah?"

"Sure, Marcy. You're a teetotal vegan rock star. Very punk."

...

By Friday afternoon the steady rain still hadn't let up and when Mo slouched reluctantly out of the main door of his school building he frowned at the leaden sky angrily. He'd been in a bad mood all week, ever since he'd caught that queer looking bitch from the pub trying to get entirely too close to his Marcy. She was trouble, he just knew it.

"Hey, squirt. Brought you an umbrella."

Mo jumped almost a foot off the ground, whipping around at Marceline's voice. She was perched gracefully on the low wall by the door. He'd missed her entirely because she was dressed all in black and leaning up against the dark painted brickwork of the gym. Maybe he'd just been too busy glaring at the sky; her bright yellow umbrella was fairly conspicuous. She handed him the second umbrella, this one bright purple, and grinned at him.

"You aren't supposed to be on school grounds unless you're a parent or a student." Mo muttered embarrassedly. Suddenly he was a bit guilty about the uncharitable thoughts he'd been having about her friend. Even if the girl was a homosexual, Marcy liked her so Mo supposed he should try not to be too mean about her. Unless she hurt his girl. Then she was fair game.

"Yeah well, most of the teachers know me and I'm just here to pick up my little sproglet after a hard day's learning, aren't I?" she replied with a laugh. Mo glowered at her, annoyed at being described as anyone's 'sproglet'.

Before he could reply a small dark shape shot out of the thick crowd of kids streaming past them and barrelled into Marceline's legs with a delighted shriek, resolving into his little brother Asif.

"A-Mo! Hey little man! Room under my umbrella for you too." Marcy beamed at the younger boy. Asif was only eleven, he'd only just started big school that year and he was still pretty small compared to most of his classmates.

"Marcy! Did Mum send you? I learned about rocks today! Do you know that metamorphic rocks are just other types of rocks that get heated up and pressed together by the earth? And copper is the best conductor of electricity out of everything! That's why they make wires out of it!" Asif babbled excitedly. He continued a bright stream of one sided conversation as they walked out of the school gates together, completely unselfconscious as he grabbed her free hand and towed her towards the street. Mo glared at little Asif; he'd wanted to share the walk home with Marcy alone because it was pretty clear she'd only come to see him.

"Guys, your Mum took Mahtab into the hospital so I'm looking after you until your Dad finishes work." Marcy interrupted as they went. "Nothing serious! But her cough got worse and the doctor didn't have any appointments left. We've got to drop by Maple Hill and get H-Mo and Aishah too. Then you guys are coming to my place for your dinner. I even got you some chicken and stuff, is that alright? Might need a hand cooking the icky dead things, though."

"Is Mahtab gonna be ok?" Asif asked with panic in his eyes.

"Yeah, she'll be fine! She's just a bit wheezy and stuff, she needs some medicine. But your Mum didn't want poor B-Mo to have to look after all of you all at once and you know I'm always glad to have you guys."

"Mum does not trust me to cook." Mo muttered, annoyed. He was worried about his baby sister too but mostly he was irritated that Asif and the twins were going to be around when he could be having alone time with Marcy. Those little kids always made him look bad.

It wasn't a long walk up to Maple Hill Primary School and Hassan and Aishah were already waiting for them at the gates. They were both staring around worriedly because usually their mother was already there to pick them up when school let out. When they saw Marceline and their older brothers coming along the street Aishah ran out to meet them.

"Where's Mum?" she asked breathlessly the minute she was close enough.

"At the hospital with the shit-machine." Mo replied with an eye roll.

"B-Mo! Don't be mean about the baby!" Aishah shrieked, scandalised.

"She's right, you butt! Mahtab's the loveliest baby in the world, everyone poops. Even you." Marceline joined in. Trust her to take the side of the only other girl there. Mo rolled his eyes again.

"Whatever. We're having dinner at Marcy's." he informed his younger siblings. Hassan had timidly come and joined them; he was getting a fond hug from Marceline.

"Is the baby ok?" Hassan asked quietly.

"She's just got a nasty cough, honey. She'll be fine." Marceline soothed. She dropped a quick kiss onto Hassan's head and he beamed up at her, making Mo glower even harder. Stupid little kids, he thought sulkily.

By the time they arrived back at the apartment block Marceline was soaked to the skin. She'd let Aishah and Hassan borrow her umbrella and cheerfully ignored Mo's attempts to link arms with her and walk together with him and Asif. She left the twins to fiddle with plugging some of her retro video games consoles into the ancient TV set in the lounge while she ducked into her bedroom to change. Asif and Mo were trying to work out how to dice chicken in the kitchen and she figured they'd be busy for at least as long as it took her to find a shirt that wasn't soaking wet. So Mo's voice scared the crap out of her when he spoke her name quietly from the doorway.

"Mo! Geez, get out! I'm not dressed yet!" Marceline yelped, grabbing the first thing she could and wrapping it tightly across her chest before whipping around to face him. He must have already seen her naked back but at least she still had her jeans on. She shivered at the intrusion. It was somehow worse because she had no idea how long he'd been standing there staring at the elaborate tattoo that stretched from the small of her back all the way up to her shoulders and she was panicky about her skin at the best of times.

"Sorry." he replied, not sounding it at all. "Asif kicked me out of the kitchen and I wanted to ask you something anyway."

"It couldn't have waited until I found a bloody shirt?" she groused, glaring at where Mo was leaning casually against the door frame. She didn't like that he saw nothing wrong with walking uninvited into her bedroom and loitering intimidatingly around the only exit. Just recently Mo had hit another growth spurt and he was taller than her now. He was probably stronger too and clearly not good with respecting boundaries or privacy. It made her unaccountably nervous. She wished she didn't live in a world where that was even something that crossed her mind but if it came to it she didn't think she'd be strong enough to fight him off. Marceline really didn't want to find out if she was or not.

"Just a quick question." Mo replied with a nonchalant shrug.

"Fine. Turn around and let me put something on and you can ask your bloody question, quickly." she mumbled with a deep scowl.

Obligingly he turned around to face the wall and she pulled a baggy green sweater on. It was a bit scratchy against her damp skin but Marcy didn't want to waste time hunting around for a t-shirt when Mo was still blocking the exit.

"That girl who walked you home last night. She is a homosexual, isn't she?" Mo asked in a tone that dripped jealousy, still staring at the wall.

"I don't actually know if she is not, we never talked about it." Marceline answered truthfully after a moment of heart stopping terror.

"She dresses like one. All flannel shirts and baseball caps, I know what that look means."

"And? You can't judge someone by their clothes, Baseem Mohammed. I thought you knew better than that." Marceline replied uncomfortably.

"Ok. But was she trying to kiss you? She looked like she was going to kiss you." Mo turned around after a moment of tense silence. Marceline was staring harder at him with a deep blush on her tan cheeks.

"I really don't know." Marcy said again, avoiding his gaze. "And I don't want to offend you, Mo. But it's really none of your business who I choose to kiss or not kiss."

He scowled and clenched his fists and Marceline backed up a couple of steps to put the bed more firmly between them. Panic flared in her chest at the furious expression on his face. Mo had never been like this, he'd never been physically intimidating before. He was sweet and funny and often watched her like she was made of pure magic; he'd never been aggressive with her. Marceline didn't know where it was coming from but she instantly hated it. She barely recognised the sweet boy who she'd taught to play bass anymore.

"But what if you told her to back off, that you had a boyfriend? What if you wanted to kiss me instead?" he pressed.

"That would be a lie then, B-Mo." she replied quietly. She tried to keep her voice as calm and even as possible around the bubble of fear trying to force its way up her throat. "Because I care about you, I think you're a lovely guy. But like I said before, I think of you as a little brother. Family. And right now you're really scaring me."

He took a threatening step forwards and she took another step back, hitting the wall with her shoulder blades and very aware that she'd run out of space to put between them. Her back was burning with psychological pain again and her breathing was coming quick and terrified. Mo was triggering all kinds of ancient PTSD and if he got too close she wasn't sure what her reaction would be, she might scream or hit him or just curl up and cry. She hadn't been in a situation where she'd been forced to find out how she responded to feeling trapped for a very long time.

"Why would you be afraid of me? Why not kiss me? I'm a nice guy, I am not going hurt you!" Mo demanded in a voice full of genuine hurt and confusion. He stared at the traumatised expression on her face and something in his body language shifted from threatening to vulnerable. He seemed to almost deflate and sank down onto the end of her bed with his head in his hands. Marceline let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

"Marcy? What is wrong with you? Why are you acting so weird? I don't want scare you!" Mo said shakily. "I just... I really like you. You are always so nice to me."

"Because I'm your friend, Mo. That's what friends do." Marceline replied distantly.

They both fell silent for a while. Mo stared down at his hands while Marceline stood perfectly still, watching him warily.

"Can I have a hug?" he asked quietly after a while.

"Is it ok if I say no? I'm too shaky right now." Marcy replied, still not moving from where she was flattened against the wall. Mo looked up at her with eyes swirling with guilt and confusion.

"Yeah. Ok. I understand, I think. I should, uh, go see what A-Mo is doing. He is too little to use knives unsupervised." Mo muttered. He stood up and slouched out of the room. Marceline slid down the wall in a heap, wrapped her arms around her knees and trembled with delayed fear.

Her mind was whirling, crowded with memories of the many times she'd seen her mother covering up fist sized bruises with too much make up. The times she'd backed up against a wall because she'd run out of space to put between herself and Marceline's father. She's seen him do awful things to her mother, things no child should have ever witnessed. And just for a moment when Mo's face had twisted into a snarl she'd seen Hunson standing over her instead. Maybe one day she'd tell Mo more about it so that he understood. But she didn't want him to think she owed him an explanation for not wanting to hug him right after he'd terrified her and she was trying to control a massive panic attack. It was a long time before Marcy's breathing and heart rate slowed back down and longer still before she could get up and go talk to the twins in a normal voice.