Archive of Our Own

September 2012

It was early in the evening and the campus cafe was moderately populated when the members of Tau Delta sorority arranged for a meeting after the end of their classes. In attendance were two pledges - highly energetic and eager to help freshmen; Bianca Kuchler, the university chapter Vice President and head of the finance committee; and Lady Rain Su, a pre-med student who wasn't an officer but was here to represent the chapter President (and Lady's best friend), Bonnibel Berenburg. The latter had lab work tonight and she trusted Lady to make any necessary decisions in the meeting with the good of Tau Delta in mind. 

Only one non-sorority member was present: Jake Mertens, a recent graduate of a neighboring college. He was an audio engineer who sometimes helped organize shows for the local music scene, his side hustle since his freshman year. He knew most of the bands in town and had the right contacts for musicians who'd be interested in performing for charity (not to mention the PR opportunity). The owner of a popular bar in town had hooked them up with Jake for his connections. Lady had heard a lot about him from her musician friends, so she easily agreed to Bonnibel’s request to sub for her in the meeting.

"Jake, thanks a lot for joining us tonight. DBG said you were quite busy." Bianca Kuchler spoke as all of them finally settled in their seats with their drinks. Though her voice had a soft valley girl twang to it, she spoke with authority as if she had to go to some lengths to establish it in a room. 

"Sure, it's no problem. Besides, it's a win-win for everybody. The Berenburg Foundation gets to raise money for troubled kids, and my friends get to play their music and enjoy some exposure." Jake said eagerly, his flaxen beard framing his smile. Lady caught his gaze. She smiled back and decided that it was time for her to speak up.

"That's exactly the spirit behind this fundraising gig. We're happy you're helping us find the right bands. I'm Lady Rain Su, by the way. I'm standing in for our President, Bonnibel Berenburg." She held out her hand for him to shake, which he did with a friendly nod towards her. His large hand swallowed Lady's tiny one.

"Nice to meet you, Lady Rain Su. Can I call you Lady? Betty from the coffee shop calls you that." Jake took his time before he finally withdrew his hand from Lady's and hid it in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Of course. You know Betty?" Surprise tugged at Lady’s expression. Jake just nodded with a warm smile. Lady was sure he noticed the blush on her cheeks.

"Ehem. So going back to the fundraiser," Bianca interrupted stiffly. "How many bands do you think you can round up?”

"I can get you 3. One of the lead singers might even do a solo set." Jake replied, returning to business but not before sharing an amused look with Lady first.

"Oh, perfect! We had no idea you already talked to your friends about it." Exclaimed Bianca, already taking out a manila folder from her bag. 

"I did, yeah. When I said the Berenburg Foundation was running it, they were pretty stoked about the media mileage. But when I said Tau Delta was involved, they went crazy." Jake chuckled and shrugged his large shoulders. The ladies giggled along and Bianca fought against rolling her eyes good-naturedly.

"Well, I guess we're feeling mutually excited. Lovely! As chapter vice president and head of finance, I officially welcome you as event manager of this wonderful event!" Bianca clapped once and pushed two manila folders in front of him. “Here’s your contract,” she pointed to the thinner folder. “Bonnibel already signed it after you guys talked. Could you sign over your name please?”

“Of course.”

Lady promptly offered him a pen. Jake took it with a lingering gaze before tearing his eyes away. He found his name on the document and signed.

Then Bianca tapped the thicker manila folder with a perfectly manicured finger.

"Could you also ask the bands to sign these documents? They're just standard performance contracts, mostly for their protection.”

Jake looked a little stumped but accepted the folder hesitantly. 

"You made these too?" He asked.

"The Berenburg family lawyer. Their foundation is running all this, after all - in partnership with the sorority,” Bianca explained clinically.

"Your president's a busy gal huh?” He said, impressed. “Any other perks the bands should know about?"

Bianca paused to think, but Lady chimed in. "We'll throw in some free booze."

"Righteous! That's all they need to hear." Jake grinned. "So are you girls all going to be there?" He asked while throwing a hopeful glance at Lady.

----------------

Bonnibel's Fall Semester had started out just as she planned. Classes were in full swing and junior year was expected to be brutal, but she just happened to have finished the first half of all her textbooks. She left the latter parts unread, lest she get bored of the entire semester. Best of all, preparations for the fundraising gig had gone much better than expected. Thanks to Jake Mertens, she had three bands lined up for tonight’s event. Although she wasn't previously aware, she heard that they were all very popular among her peers. 

The show would be set up at a local pub just like any other rock show in town, with the usual elements: stressed out but well-meaning college kids, lots of booze and the promise of a good time would all be guaranteed, or so Jake had described to her over the phone. The good-natured sound engineer had been appointed as event manager of the show instead of Bonnibel who had to entrust him with the coordination with the musicians as well as the marketing of the event. While she was in charge of accounting and legal, the production of the show itself was beyond her expertise. This was the first time her parents had given her the reins on a fundraising event under the family foundation, and she was not about to risk its ruin by relegating all the work upon herself, as was her tendency. Besides, she had to work on her delegation skills somehow while also adding to her already outstanding resume.

Bonnibel contemplated everything that was on her plate while on her way to DBG’s where she was to check on the preparations. She would meet Lady there and perhaps some of the bands too. Part of her wished she could stay so she could scope the scene out, but she had a report in one of her honor classes due tomorrow. Besides, she knew she could trust that Lady and her other sorority sisters (mostly pledges) would keep everything in order.

Over the course of the two weeks spent preparing for the event, Lady and Jake had grown close. So close that instead of Bonnibel picking up Lady from clinic duty, Jake had taken up the job. So instead of taking her car, Bonnibel could walk to DBG’s, since it was only a few blocks away from her dorm. It was an opportunity she welcomed since she rarely could explore the neighborhood unless it was absolutely necessary. 

Bonnibel finally saw the pub in view. Its dark wood exterior, neon signage and glass windows - showing warm interior lighting - were especially inviting on a cold evening when fall was receding slowly into winter. From what little she had heard about it from her peers, it was a fairly popular pub in the university belt with reasonably priced drinks - a fact that certainly did not hurt especially after Lady threw in her offer of free booze, much to Bonnibel’s initial displeasure. She could never stay mad at her best friend for long; she understood, albeit begrudgingly, that it had been Lady’s attempt to impress her new crush.

Upon entering, Bonnibel saw that the pub wasn't as empty as she expected, even though it was still early -  a little past five in the afternoon. Jake and Lady were sitting close to each other at a corner table. Several other patrons were seated near the large bay windows. It looked like a couple of the bands were already there as well.

"Hey, Rainie," Bonnibel greeted her best friend with her childhood nickname. Lady turned around her seat and immediately stood up to hug her.

"Bonnie! I’m so glad you could come.” Lady released her and cooed appreciatively at her outfit. Bonnibel’s style was Parisian chic (leaning heavily towards pink tones, muted only by her trench coat) which was in no small part thanks to Lady. It was one of the many things they bonded over while growing up. Bonnibel silently thanked her.

“Things are going great so far. I checked with Lori, too. And this is Jake," she said with a giddy smile. Lady’s soft features remained flawless with light make up, and her dazzling smile and bold-printed dress indicated that she was full of energy despite juggling school and an internship at a clinic. Her half-Korean friend was in pre-med and  was the most fashionable girl she knew. Bonnibel could picture it in the future that she'd have the most eye-catching scrubs at the hospital.

“Hey, Bonnie. Jake Mertens. I’ve heard so much about you,” He smiled at her and took her hand.

"Hi, Jake. It's so nice to finally meet you in person. You should hear the way Lady talks about you," Bonnibel smiled back as she took a seat across from them and peeled away her coat. Jake’s ears turned red. He sent an enamored glance at Lady. His sandy blond hair was cut to a bald fade which, paired with his broad shoulders and tracksuit, reminded Bonnibel of London street style. They had only met over the phone over several phone calls strictly devoted to the show's logistics, but she already had an idea about what he was like from the way Lady gushed about him in their shared dorm. She knew from Lady that he was a serious guy who worked hard to support himself and his younger brother.

Presently, he was telling Bonnibel about the bands who were going to play. She listened eagerly to his estimation of them.

"So over there's Demigods, they do pretty decent pop punk covers and they'll be opening the show. Then there's Poison Letter, they're on the heavier side of the rock spectrum but their breakdowns will get you bouncing. Then up next will be the Scream Queens - everybody’s super stoked to see them play, including me. Then we end with Marceline's solo set. "

"And what does the Scream Queens sound like?" Bonnibel inquired.

Jake's face lit up with enthusiasm. "Oh, imagine intricate guitar riffs and face-melting drum sequences. They’re primarily metalcore, but they mix it up with pop-inspired breakdowns without making it sound cheap. Their lead singer Marceline sings R&B style—sorry,” he laughed at the confusion in Bonnibel’s expression. “They’re just really, really good. I guarantee you that.”

Bonnibel couldn't picture it out exactly. While she listened to R&B, she did not listen to rock all that much. Her most extensive listening of the genre was last summer when she visited family in Stuttgart. Her cousin Gary would drive her around the city and sing along to Panic at the Disco.

“Well, you’ll see what I mean when they play,” Jake said after watching Bonnibel struggle to imagine what the band sounded like.

"I can't because I'm not staying. I have a report to write,” Bonnibel explained, if a little regretfully. Her curiosity had certainty piqued because of Jake’s enthusiastic description of the bands for tonight.

"Man, that's too bad. We have a pretty sweet line up, if I say so myself."

"How about a drink or two before you go?" Lady suggested.

Bonnibel could agree to that, it wouldn’t hurt. She enjoyed the occasional drink every now and then. 

"Sure, at least I won't be going home in a funk for being the third wheel." She joked. Jake went red in the ears and left to check the stage. “Hey!” Lady glowered at her in half-hearted reproach.

Bonnie talked to the pair of freshmen who volunteered to watch the merch booth, while Jake met with the sound guys. After everything was settled, the three of them gathered at the bar. They picked a spot with a good view of the stage. 

Bonnibel took off her coat and allowed herself to relax. She worked on her sidecar (heavy on the juice with extra sugar on the rim). From there she could see a heavyset dude checking the drums. Holding a bass guitar was a tall, dark-haired girl whose back was turned. She was half kneeling on the stage to fiddle with some gadgets. 

Bonnibel had been so busy with the preparations that she didn't notice that the third band, the Scream Queens, had arrived.

The tall girl began ad-libbing a bluesy riff, a tune that seemed to simply meander like it was idly searching for a hook. The drummer rolled out some suggestive drum patterns trying to make out where the bass was heading. They watched each other expectantly, but it was clear that the bassist was leading. With the bassist’s face in profile, Bonnibel could see her dark eyebrows knotted slightly like she was searching for a flow that was just within reach. After a moment, she found her tune of choice. With just a few riffs, the drummer caught on right away and his face lit up.  She turned things up with a faster riff, and the drummer followed her lead. 

As the piece progressed, it gradually fleshed out into a song. It had a chorus and distinguishable verses (if you could call beautifully arranged intricate bass riffs that). As a pair of rock musicians, they played the deviation in genre amazingly well. After a second chorus, the song ended. 

After dusting off her hands in satisfaction and placing the bass on a stand behind her, the bass player turned around fully. She saw Jake and waved at him. It was then that Bonnie realized she had been staring at her.

“Who’s your friend?” Lady had asked Jake. When Bonnibel glanced at her, Lady appeared to be just as intrigued.

“That’s Marceline Abadeer from the Scream Queens. She'll be doing the solo set at the end of the show. Her band is awesome! And she… she’s alright, I guess.” Jake murmured equivocally with a small salute towards Marceline.

"She's hot." Lady remarked objectively. 

To Jake’s apparent discomfort, the person in question prowled across the room with her eyes dead set on Bonnie who, upon noticing this, self-consciously took her drink in large gulps. 

Jake had instinctively draped a burly arm around Lady’s shoulders while the latter grumbled in protest for being held too tightly.

“Hey, Jake. What’s up?” Marceline greeted in a drawl. She leaned against the bar and grinned. She wasn’t looking at Bonnibel anymore. Her gaze seemed to rest more on Lady, giving Bonnibel only a quick glance. “Who’s this beauty?”

Jake looked to be actively suppressing a frown. “Hey, Marceline. This is Lady and this is Bonnie. Girls, this is Marceline, vocalist of The Scream Queens.”

Marceline Abadeer reeked with confidence and ease underneath a fleece-lined black hoodie, dark jeans and a pair of black boots with its laces loosely tied. Her black, flowy hair spilled down over one shoulder, revealing a deep undercut and a thick black tapered device lanced through her ear piercing that was probably an earring of some sort. The sleeves of her hoodie clung to her shoulders and arms and hinted at some muscle. Despite her muted style, her height and fit frame made her look visually interesting. Bonnibel sensed that Marceline Abadeer was well aware of this. It was no surprise that she was the frontwoman of her band. She certainly had the cocky attitude down pat. As if her beautiful face wasn’t enough, the girl had a skilled pair of hands that made Bonnie’s ribcage thrum with every flick at the strings of a blood-red bass guitar. 

… And she completely ignored Bonnie while she talked to Jake about the technicalities of music and junk. She made small talk with Lady about the latter’s university, to which Lady hastily pointed out that she went to the same school as Bonnibel who was double majoring and was in an accelerated honors curriculum, in an obvious effort to squeeze her brilliant friend into the convo. But Marceline deliberately didn’t pick up on it and segued to another topic —until Jake was called over to the stage by the drummer, cutting off the uncomfortably protracted introduction. Marceline didn’t seem to have sensed that anything was amiss.

Bonnibel was grateful for the interruption. Being ignored turned out to be incredibly unpleasant, even if it was by a jerk like this Marceline Abadeer person.

But then the same jerk took a bar stool at a spot perpendicular to Bonnibel’s, near enough to hear her order a scotch and another round of “whatever this cute babe is having” while staring at her with a grin.

Bonnibel was incredulous. Just who did this person think she was? she thought as she narrowed her eyes at Marceline. The musician’s features—pale skin with olive undertones and deep green eyes—had caught Bonnie off guard for a moment before she rolled her eyes at her.

Meanwhile the bartender tried to comply with the musician’s request by attempting to pluck away Bonnibel’s almost empty glass so he could refill it. But Bonnibel put her hand over the glass in refusal.

“Sorry, but I don’t take drinks from strangers who use lame pop psychology tactics to get a woman’s attention.” Bonnibel quipped and turned away in disgust.

“Oof, I think she’s on to you,” Lady laughed sardonically. Jake, who returned in time to witness the exchange, gave her a sympathetic look before ultimately shaking his head as if he had expected this to happen.

Marceline was stunned. Her grin threatened to fade but she refused to be discouraged. She managed a close-lipped smile, dropping her gaze down to her own glass. Her expression made her look like a puppy who got kicked, Bonnibel thought after she risked one last glance at her. Pleased with her reaction, Bonnibel began to talk to Lady in hushed tones. She didn’t notice that Marceline had recovered from her initial surprise at being quickly found out and was now rubbing her chin in contemplation.

That was the last time Marceline ever ignored her on purpose. 

----------------

October

It was out of necessity that Bonnibel opted to meet Bianca Kuchler at Betty’s cafe for what she expected to be a loud discussion on the division of their labor for a project in one of their shared classes. If there was one thing Bonnibel knew about the other girl, it was her tendency to argue needlessly with her no matter how petty the issue. Bonnibel knew her own higher rank in Tau Delta would not matter to Bianca when it came to schoolwork, so she sought the safety of a public meeting today. Besides, she badly needed caffeine to deal with her.

"You chose somewhere awfully crowded, Bonnie," Bianca remarked as she looked around the cafe in irritation. "We can't possibly have a good discussion here. I could have booked the Glover Hall conference room."

"Are you really talking to me about wasting sorority resources over a project in a minor class?” Bonnibel raised an eyebrow at her.

Bianca seemed to agree, but still added, “It’s better at the library like I also suggested.”

“Coffee and loud talking aren't allowed in the library, Bianca." Bonnibel reminded her. "And I need coffee."

"Our discussion doesn't have to be loud," Bianca frowned.

"I agree. But in case it gets there, we won't get kicked out." Bonnibel smiled sweetly at her. "You ready to order? I’ll go."

"Yeah, just the usual macchiato. Thank you,” Bianca replied. Bonnibel went to the counter with her purse.

"A macchiato and a flat white with honey, please."

"Name please?" The barista asked.

"Bonnie.”

Bonnibel was about to get her purse for payment until the barista added, "That’ll be… Oh, wait. The bill's taken care of, Bonnie."

Surprised, Bonnibel looked back at where Bianca was sitting at their table, wondering if she had anything to do with it. Bianca only looked back at her in confused indignation.

"It's from Marceline Abadeer. Said if a girl named Bonnie ever came by, we'd put it on her tab." The barista explained.

Bonnibel let out a small laugh in confusion. "What? But why would she – how did she even know I'd be here?"

"Beats me. Maybe because exams are coming up and a lot of people study here?" The barista shrugged. Bonnibel’s gaze swept the room in search of Marceline, with a little frown in place threatening to deepen if she ever saw her target – but Marceline was nowhere in sight. She sighed and turned to the barista again.

"Well, how would you know for sure if I'm the Bonnie she was referring to?" Bonnibel naturally could not just take the information at face value.

"Marceline said you'd be wearing a lot of pink and that you'd be gorgeous. She said, ‘think Elle Woods, but prettier.’ I think I got it right." He grinned. True enough, she was wearing a thick pink cardigan that fell off one shoulder with a rose-colored spaghetti top underneath. Even her purse was a matching shade of pink.

"Bonnie, you were looking at me earlier. Is there something wrong?" Bianca came up behind her and sounded like she was about to tell off the innocent barista.

Bonnibel shook her head and waved a hand at the barista to signify that it was all good. "No, Bianca, it's fine. Someone else paid for our drinks."

"That's right, ma'am - Marceline said she'd take care of it." The barista clarified one more time for Bianca's sake before ushering another patron towards the counter to take their order. Another barista handed them their drinks with a smile.

Bonnibel said nothing, stewing in wonder as she made her way back to their table with their coffee. Bianca caught up behind her brimming with questions.

"Wait, did he mean Marceline Abadeer? The musician? Why would she pay for our drinks?" Bianca sounded as surprised as she was, a little intrigued even as she searched the place for the musician.

"I suppose that’s who he meant. But I didn't see Marceline anywhere." Bonnibel replied nonchalantly and took out her notebook. As Bianca sat across her, she was too miffed at Bonnibel's evasiveness to notice the blush on the latter's cheeks.

"Well, that was awfully nice of her. I didn't think I made an impression at the fundraiser but apparently she remembers me. The fundraiser was weeks ago!" She giggled airily as she followed Bonnibel's cue to start reviewing the project instructions.

Holding back her skepticism and the urge to correct Bianca, Bonnibel looked over at her companion and tried to evaluate her with as much objectivity as she could muster. Bianca Kuchler was certainly easy on the eyes, with her waist-length, platinum blonde hair, patrician features and Austrian roots. But she was a little too vanilla, decided Bonnibel who, as bisexual as she was, preferred her women to be more on the adventurous side. In other words, she and Bianca were too similar for her taste.

Realizing, however, that it wasn't her own preference she should be judging Bianca by but Marceline's, there might be more truth in Bianca's elated little confession than Bonnibel cared to admit. So she brought up the fundraiser and asked about more innocuous details - the performance of a certain pledge, things they could improve if they were to hold another fundraiser, and the like. As Bonnibel had hoped, Bianca brought up Marceline again.

“Her band is pretty intense. Definitely not my type of music but I could understand the appeal, I guess. I told her that I liked her solo set better.”

"Oh? Did you talk to her after the show?" Bonnibel asked. Bianca looked up at her, glad that Bonnibel appeared curious.

"Yeah! For a bit. Obviously I was too busy making sure the pledges didn't mess anything up, but she came up to me to say thanks."

"I see. I was there before it started. I couldn't stay long because I had a report due the next morning."

"It's a shame I didn't catch you. It wasn't really my scene, but towards the end Marceline played softer songs that I actually could appreciate. She's quite interesting, though a little flirtatious." The corners of Bianca's lips curved in amusement. Bonnibel was sure it was just her competitive nature - but she wanted to knock Bianca down a peg.

"I know, right? Marceline tried to buy me a drink before I left. Like you said, too flirtatious—so I turned the offer down." Bonnibel chuckled and bit her lip to stop triumphant laughter from coming out. Then she subtly pointed out that both their cups had "Bonnie" written on them. "But she actually succeeded this time."

Bianca was a very intelligent girl who was also in an honor’s curriculum. It did not take a second for her to put two and two together.

"Oh. Well, I wasn't in the mood for a drink that night anyway." Bianca could only manage an awkward laugh before she returned to their project and frowned at her notes.

----------------

Few things could amuse Lady more than seeing Bonnibel out of her equilibrium, which was funny because of its rarity.

"Wait, so how'd she get your attention in the first place?" She pressed before Bonnibel could rant any further. The latter's baby hairs were starting to escape from her elegant half up/half down braid. Lady held back a giggle at the sight. Her best friend usually remained unruffled, having mastered the art of juggling academic, civic and personal goals all at once. A challenge coming from outside of those three things, however, seemed to have thrown her off balance.

"She was soaking wet from the rain, so naturally I had to help!" Bonnibel said defensively as they both entered their dorm, barefoot with their damp shoes in hand. She headed to their small balcony  while Lady followed suit.

"What did Mr. Petrikov say?" asked Lady. Mr. Petrikov was Bonnie's eccentric, but well-rounded professor in Applied Mathematics and Life Sciences, two of the four extra courses she had to take for honor eligibility.

"He said, 'Marceline, I'm surprised you're here. Our dinner with Betty isn't until Friday'--something like that. The point is, she wasn't even supposed to be there!" Bonnie dropped her shoes on an empty rack with a thud and began to strip out of her sweater and top. Now her strawberry blond hair was all over the place, but Lady was too curious to laugh.

"So... she went all the way to your building, in the middle of an October storm, pretending to be lost and asked you for directions to Mr. Petrikov's office." Lady hypothesized. Bonnie mumbled affirmatively.

"I'm kind of impressed at how resolute she is."

"Resolute? Brash is the word for her, Lady," Bonnibel disparaged. "Will you let me use the bathroom first?"

Lady shot her a skeptical look. "Fine, but you have to admit she's hot. Straight as I am, even I can see that."

"Does that matter? She harassed me!" Bonnibel frowned in the artificial way that Lady recognized whenever her roommate stubbornly held on to her own opinion despite burgeoning evidence to the contrary.

"Harassed you how?" Lady followed her to the bathroom and held the door frame still donning disbelief.

Bonnibel threw her hands up and began adjusting the water heater.

"I loaned her my jacket, right, so she said 'You smell really good, I might not give you your jacket back' so I said, ‘fine you can keep it!’”

Lady snorted and shook her head. "THat’s hardly harassment. She was flirting with you. She was more elaborate this time, but still just flirting with you."

"By commenting on my scent? I've never had anyone say that to me. Not to mention, that I just came out of a three-hour lab period. She’s deranged."​​

"So you let her keep it?"

"No, I took it back."

Lady paused thoughtfully and went back to their front door where Bonnibel left her large tote bag. It had her heavy books and the jacket in question, notably a little damp from its last wearer. She dug into its pockets. 

"Aha! I knew it."

She returned to the bathroom and held up a small piece of paper, the ink on the writing blotched but still readable. "She left you her number!"

Bonnibel, already in the bathtub impatiently waiting for the water to fill it up, nodded and shrugged. “617-470-0979. I know."

"Well, well, Bonnibel--"

"Don't pretend you don't know that I can memorize random strings of numbers at a glance." Bonnibel stopped her with a wet finger raised in warning. 

Lady surrendered with a barely suppressed snort. There was a lot on Bonnibel's plate so she knew better than to annoy her best friend any further. The thought of Thanksgiving break only a few weeks away and parties everywhere kept Lady buoyant despite her dreaded lab exams. 

"Fine, I won't. But I won't pretend to be convinced that you're uninterested either." Lady smirked and shut the door behind her before Bonnibel could protest.

----------------

November

"Thank you so much, you are a lifesaver as always," Bonnibel was about to accept the cup of takeaway coffee but found her hands to be full of her notes. She gave Lady a grateful hug instead.

"You're welcome, B - let me just hold it for you - I got it from the cafe and told them it was for you, like you asked. Is the barista into you or something? Because he didn't make me pay for it." Lady asked and walked beside Bonnibel towards her locker. She had no more exams for the day and was more than happy to oblige her best friend's request.

"No, it's a long story that involves Bianca Kuchler somehow. I'll tell you about it later. I want to take a nap so badly but I'm too worried I might oversleep, so I probably won't be able to fall asleep at all." Bonnibel ranted, dropped all her things in her locker and took the coffee from Lady. She was about to take a sip until she heard someone speak.

"You should take that nap. I'll make sure to give you a wake up call." 

She recognized that self-assured lilt. Bonnibel was too caught off guard to don her usual frown in place when she turned to look at the person who suddenly chimed in. 

“Are you ‘lost’ again?” Lady snorted incredulously with a touch of awe at Marceline’s unexpected presence at the campus.

"I was just passing by,” Marceline’s face broke into a grin that seemed to delight in being found out. “Lucky for me, I saw both of you and just had to say hi."

She was too chipper for Bonnibel's current mood. She could only sigh into her locker as she closed her eyes for a moment. Marceline's wiry image, sporting a charcoal grey sweater, dark jeans that hinted at quads for days, and a playful grin, all burned behind her eyelids.  

"You can't because you don't have my number," Bonnibel murmured in reply, more exhausted than anything else. She didn't have the energy to put up a resistance that would match the musician's doggedness. Besides, she was too engrossed with suppressing the giddy pattering in her chest.

She grabbed her notes for the next class, shut her locker and spared Marceline another glance before turning on her heel in the other direction.

"But you could text me. You have mine." Marceline replied behind her. Bonnibel kept walking and clutched at her coffee while picking up her pace. Lady trailed after them suppressing giggles.

"Do I? I don't think so. I threw your little note away." Bonnibel lied as Marceline caught up beside her. The distance in the hallway between her locker and the study hall seemed to have stretched to an unusual length at the moment. She didn't understand what this person was trying to do except put her in a state of agitation. She had two other tests coming up and Marceline had the gall to derail her focus. Of course, Marceline didn't know that, but it was too exhausting to have to explain and she likely would not be able to find the words. There was also the possibility that she was too socially obtuse to know how to properly respond to Marceline's advances, which, according to Lady, was a perfectly normal way to get Bonnibel's attention.

"But, Bonnie didn't you--" Lady attempted to say something relevant, but was hushed by Bonnibel's warning glare. 

Marceline grinned at both of them.

"Interesting. Anyway, I just wanted to say hello. And also, that you're welcome to give me a call, anytime, day or night.”

"You know I would have if I really wanted to," Bonnibel actually smiled as they paused at the doorway of the study hall. "Though I haven't. For days now."

"You’re in the middle of exams so I understand." Marceline laughed pleasantly, undeterred. She took out her wallet and produced two ticket stubs. "But I'm here to give you a little encouragement."

She took Bonnibel's free hand and pressed the two tickets into it. 

“My band is playing at DBG's in two weeks, before Thanksgiving break. It’ll be fun, I promise." She pledged emphatically. "You left too soon at your own fundraiser."

Whatever Bonnibel wanted to say was stuck in her throat as she studied the way the corners of Marceline's eyes crinkled in mirth.

She then turned to Lady. "Plus Jake’s gonna be there." Lady blushed and beamed at Marceline in gratitude. 

"See you then?" Marceline finally let go of Bonnibel's hand and gave her a lingering look. 

"Enjoy your coffee," she winked. Then she left with a wave of her hand. 

"What. Was. That?" Lady demanded. She glanced at the coffee cup, then the tickets, then Bonnibel's expression. She didn't look as confused as Lady was.

Bonnibel looked down at the two tickets in her palm. The afterimage of Marceline’s forearms lingered, tattoos revealed from her rolled up sleeves. She was still dazed from Marceline's quick but overwhelming appearance. She had brimmed with impervious confidence. When they made eye contact, Marceline had a knack of being able to maintain it. Her hand had been warm over hers and a little rough with calluses. She wondered briefly if they were caused by her instrument playing or some other physical activity. Marceline certainly looked like she’d be able to lift a small person like her. Lady snatched a ticket out of her hand and was snapped out of her thoughts.

"I'm going to that show with or without you. But geez, the tension between the two of you..." Lady remarked and trailed off in astonishment.

"What? No!" Bonnibel shook her head, unable to find more words to say and stealthily pocketed the ticket. The heft of her notes clutched to her chest reminded her to focus. "I'm gonna go study."

----------------

Mr. Petrikov was gingerly setting a large instrument case in one corner of his office. He opened it to reveal an upright bass. The dark wood looked carefully maintained. Bonnibel sat and waited patiently as her professor seemed to marvel at the instrument and muttered to himself, "Oh, I hope she'll take care of you."

"Pardon, sir?" Bonnibel piped behind the stacks of files and papers that threatened to topple over from the professor’s desk.

He turned in mild surprise and smiled apologetically. He shut the case and fastened the locks. "I'm sorry, dear. I'm just a little worried about loaning this thing. I've had this since I was a young man. Though I guess I should calm down, Marceline loves instruments just as much as I do," he chuckled.

Bonnibel simply nodded and allowed a polite pause before clearing her throat impatiently. "About my abstract, sir--"

"Oh yes, brilliant work as always, Ms. Berenburg. I'll approve it after another read, just for the sheer pleasure of it." He sat down behind his desk and peered at her through his round glasses with pride.

"Thank you, sir. But what I wanted to discuss was--"

There was a knock on the door, then a turn of the knob. Bonnibel looked behind her and saw Marceline Abadeer's head peeking through.

"Oh, sorry, I'm just here to get the bass." Marceline didn't look as apologetic as she should. Bonnibel looked to the side in mild annoyance. How could this happen twice in a week? At least this time Mr. Petrikov appeared to be expecting her.

"Hello, Marceline. You may get the bass later. Though you seem to have made a habit out of popping in on my appointments with Ms. Berenburg." Mr. Petrikov observed wryly. 

"What can I say, I've got great timing. Sup, Berenburg?" Marceline sent a smile her way. Bonnibel gave a polite wave. Marceline's grin widened before she finally closed the door. An open planner journal sat on top of one of the piles on the desk. The professor eyed it suspiciously and flipped it shut.

Mr. Petrikov paused for a few seconds, hands clasped together on his desk contemplatively.

"Is she trying to woo you?"

Bonnibel didn't understand why she suddenly felt so flustered at the simple question to which she had a simple answer. "No, I-I don't think so."

"Her family and mine have been friends for a long time. Do you want me to talk to her, Ms. Berenburg?"

Bonnibel wanted to scoff. So Marceline really was pretending to be clueless about where Mr. Petrikov's office was several days ago when it rained buckets.

"It's alright, Mr. Petrikov. She... seems harmless." Bonnibel conceded.

"She's very persistent when she sees something she wants. You'll have to be direct with her if you don't want her bothering you anymore."

Thirty minutes later, Bonnibel stepped out of Mr. Petrikov's office, armed with new knowledge -- and not just about her abstract.

Marceline was staring out of the window in the hallway bopping to the music spilling out of her earphones and biting her bottom lip in concentration. At that moment, Marceline certainly appeared as harmless as Bonnibel had described. It was rather cute how in the zone she looked, thought Bonnibel. It was unfortunate that she had to disturb her. She began her approach.

"Hey, Mr. Petrikov is waiting for you inside." Bonnibel informed her. She had to raise her voice to be heard.

"Ah yeah, thanks." Marceline quickly pulled her headphones down as she turned to her. "It's nice to see you again."

Bonnibel pushed her wire frame glasses up her nose and gave a small smile. "What are the sheer odds, right?”

Marceline laughed. “Law of attraction - I will it, it happens.” Clearly that was as far as she would admit to having any hand in their current encounter.

“Oh, you believe that stuff?” Bonnibel replied skeptically.

“Honestly, no. But I try to do everything to get what I want. I’m guessing you’re the same?”

Bonnibel shrugged. “I’m not as aggressive, I’m afraid.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe seeing as you’re obviously such a high achiever.” Marceline said. 

“Maybe things happen effortlessly for me, who knows,” Bonnibel said to make light of things. She was eager to steer the conversation away from herself, though inside she was thrilled to be able to talk to Marceline without feeling agitated as in their last encounter. Must be because her abstract was getting published, or the fact that she knew a thing or two about Marceline now after her meeting with the professor. “Anyway, I apologize that we took a while to adjourn.”

"I don’t mind waiting," Marceline dismissed graciously while their eyes met. She held Bonnibel’s gaze for a steady moment before lowering her head, smiling to herself while thinking of what else to say, not moving at all to head into the professor’s office just yet.

Bonnibel managed to give her an amused smile before she looked away as well. It was hard not to get pulled in by her charm, thought Bonnibel as she recalled the way Mr. Petrikov described her as he knew her: extremely talented at music and excessively confident because of it, but with a chip on her shoulder when it came to her absentee father who compensated by spoiling her with money. Mr. Petrikov felt that Bonnibel should have some idea of the type of person Marceline was because he sensed that Bonnibel was probably confused by the musician’s behavior. She had told him about Marceline’s open tab at the cafe, to which he responded by saying, ‘If that’s not the silliest thing I’ve known her to do for a girl, then it’s certainly the most expensive. She’s a spoiled kid, so she’s spoiling you too. It’s her ‘love language’, or so the experts say. But let’s keep this between ourselves, Ms. Berenburg.’

“Marceline, can I ask you something?” Bonnibel began softly.

“Yes, anything,” came Marceline’s eager reply.

“About the open tab at the cafe… thank you, but it can’t go on. Please, you need to stop,” Bonnibel said firmly.

Marceline chuckled at her. “I’ll close the tab… if you go on a date with me there.”

Bonnibel snorted in disbelief. “I knew there was a price to pay all along.”

“Well then don’t go on a date with me. I’m hardly forcing you to.” Marceline was still smirking but defensiveness had bled into her tone. 

Bonnibel was silently surprised by this almost imperceptible shift in Marceline’s mood. Perhaps it was because of the way Bonnibel had said it.

“I’m just saying that you don’t have to do that for me. I’m grateful for it, and it’s sweet, but it’s getting embarrassing now. I feel like the baristas think I’m just freeloading off you.” Bonnibel laughed hoping it would ease some tension.

“No they don’t. They know I’m just generous because I like you.” Marceline said plainly. The openness caught Bonnibel off guard.

“Why do you like me? I’m just a nerd – a high achiever as you said.” Bonnibel shrugged, genuinely not knowing what the answer was.

"Have you looked at yourself, Berenburg?” Marceline said in disbelief.

Bonnibel frowned at her. “I’m serious, Marceline.”

Marceline’s face had softened now as her full attention was now on Bonnibel – something Bonnibel decided that she quite liked.

“I am too,” Marceline shrugged back. “I enjoy looking at you, is that so hard to believe?”

True enough, Marceline’s gaze roamed discreetly over her frame before returning to her face, darkened green eyes meeting astonished blue ones. Bonnibel was dressed in a pale pink off the shoulder sweater and jeans that fit her snug around the hips. Mr. Petrikov’s office had been warm enough for her to stow her parka and her scarf away in her tote. The flush that appeared across her face threatened to extend down to her exposed neck. Marceline had certainly - and wordlessly - made her point across, but any response was trapped in Bonnibel’s throat.

“And I like your style.” Marceline added as if it was an afterthought.

"That’s so random of you, but thanks," Bonnibel finally managed to speak, but internally she wondered if Marceline was being genuine. How could a metalhead like her appreciate Bonnibel's predilection to pink?

"It’s not random, just spontaneous. And no, thank you for looking so good. Seeing you makes me feel inspired to write a hundred songs or something." Marceline put her hands in her pockets almost as if she was embarrassed by what she said, or so Bonnibel surmised. But anyone watching from afar wouldn’t be able to tell at all. She reeked with confidence and held Bonnibel's gaze without faltering.

"You seem to pull off whatever outfit you wear as well." Bonnibel politely managed despite her blush. She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear as Mr. Petrikov's advice echoing in her mind went unheeded. She had to leave now.

"Well, you should go in now, Mr. Petrikov’s waiting. Goodbye."

Marceline was still visibly reeling from Bonnibel’s remark. She had not expected the girl to reciprocate at all in any way.

"Hope to see you at the party," Marceline managed to call out as Bonnibel walked away. 

“Law of attraction, remember?” Bonnibel said over her shoulder, unable to help herself. She hastened her stride.

"You look even better from here." Bonnibel heard Marceline chuckle delightedly behind her. She could practically feel Marceline’s gaze on her backside. Immediately regretting the compliment she gave Marceline, Bonnibel growled and strode furiously out of the building.

----------------

One week later

Bonnibel was bored. Boredom was a dangerous feeling.

She was alone in the dorm room and had just finished organizing her notes. She was over the usual anxiety she felt during exam week. She would fret over the classes that required midterms and those that didn’t in equal measure. Reviewing the lessons she knew already felt repetitive and she was itching for new knowledge, or at least, for her last two exams to finally be over, and they weren’t on until next week. That left her with the sorority to think about.

Their little friendsgiving huddle was coming up, but Bianca was on top of that. She really was a fantastic Vice President even if she sometimes clawed for some of Bonnibel’s power. She had also made sure that the media had picked up on the fundraising gig they had in September. She sent Bonnibel emails on the articles from several local news outlets, along with the breakdown of costs and the total amount they raised. 

Bonnibel was pleasantly surprised when she opened Bianca’s emails. She was happy enough with the amount and she was sure the Foundation – a.k.a her parents – would be too. Bianca’s first email to her, which was the last one she took notice of, was a Zip file of all the photos taken at the show.

She opened the file. She saw the folder labelled “The Scream Queens” and went straight to it.

The photo thumbnails loaded up into view. There were about a hundred of them. In about 80% of the shots, Marceline was the focal point. She was the lead singer after all. 

There she was on stage wearing a green basketball jersey, obviously to show off her arms – heavily tattooed, muscles rippling with exertion and sweat. Her deep red bass was slung low on her body as she stood close to the mic stand, at times with her eyes closed and her mouth open as she sang, revealing a pair of canines that were pointy just enough to be enticing. There were also shots of her thrashing mid-air, hair fanning wildly above her as beads of moisture – maybe water, sweat or both – trailed after her movements and caught the camera flash. Other photos showed the equally sweaty crowd having the time of their lives, singing along to Marceline and jumping up and down with her. 

The other photos showed Marceline alone on stage with an acoustic guitar. Her solo set. She sat on a stool, expression serene as she appeared to croon into the mic, at times smiling at the crowd. All Bonnibel could see was the back of their heads, attention rapt towards Marceline. At the corner of one photo appeared Bianca looking on in interest. There was a shot of Marceline laughing at something in the crowd, then one of her pretending to take off her jersey. Bonnibel’s gaze lingered on the flat plane of her stomach and the pair of deep lines leading down the waistband of her pants. Bonnibel let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

As she browsed on, her conversation with Mr. Petrikov replayed in her mind. 

She's very persistent when she sees something she wants.

She’s spoiling you too. It’s her love language.

It was only much later that Bonnibel realized that she had spent nearly two hours looking at The Scream Queens folder alone. She had allowed her thoughts to wander, for herself to wonder what Marceline was like beneath the cool flippant attitude and find out if it was all just a carefully contrived front.

Then she heard the rustling of keys at the door. She flipped her laptop shut just before Lady came in.

“Hey, B. Wanna order in?”

----------------

Two weeks later

The minutes were flitting by too quickly for Bonnibel’s liking. She’s never had to rush to class, but today was looking like an exception.

“Bonnie, I gotta go ahead, I can’t be running to class in these boots!” Lady yelled from outside of Bonnibel’s room.

“Okay, okay - I’m coming out!” Bonnibel yelled back after a final round of primping in front of the mirror. She grabbed her purse and stepped out of her room. She almost ran into Lady who stepped back just in time with a scrutinizing scowl.

“What took you so long? You never take long to dress up. You plan your outfits ahead just like you plan everything ahead. What’s going on?” Lady shook her head in confusion as they both strode out of the building.

“Nothing’s going on. What’s with all the questions?” Bonnibel brushed it off and urged Lady to pick up her pace. The ginkgo trees that lined the road had dumped all their leaves without ceremony. Lady scowled even more at the chill in the air and regretted not grabbing a scarf. Her friend, however, was perfectly dressed in a pastel pink ensemble.

“Besides, you and I don’t have class until 9:30… Rainie, come on!” Bonnibel said with an outstretched arm upon noticing Lady just standing behind her.

“You forgot your bookbag. You only have your purse.” Lady pointed out.

“I didn’t forget. Everything’s in my locker.” Bonnibel shrugged in mild exasperation.

“You never leave everything in your locker. You always bring your stuff home because you study for class the night before.” Lady narrowed her eyes.

“Look, I’m not sure where you’re going with this but can we please keep on walking?” Bonnibel pleaded. Lady obliged and they returned to their heavy pace towards the cafe.

“You remember those vibes I had when you were planning to dump my cousin at my sweet 16 but you didn’t want to tell me? I’m having those vibes now. I’ll figure you out. You’ll see.” Lady shook her head, letting it go for the moment.

Bonnibel snorted. “I really didn’t need the reminder, but yeah, I’m still sorry I had to do it at your party.” 

The rather ungraceful snort did not go unnoticed by Lady whose mental gears were churning at Bonnibel’s behavior.

They were finally at the cafe. The barista noticed their arrival and beamed at them.

“Hello, Bonnie. Will you be having your usual?” The barista asked while already writing out Bonnibel’s name on a cup.

Suddenly Lady laughed. The sight of the coffee reminded her of their encounter with Marceline two weeks back.

“Oh, now I get it! You’re going to the rock gig tonight! That’s why you took so long to get ready. You are totally seeing Marceline later! Let me see what you got under here,” Lady pointed an accusing finger at her while she tried to peek into Bonnibel’s fully buttoned trench coat. 

“I am not! Shut up, Lady!” Bonnibel admonished red in the face. She pushed Lady’s hand away.

“Isn’t that why Marceline keeps a tab open for you here… because you’re seeing her?” The barista asked as if it was the obvious reason.

Bonnibel’s blush rivaled the shade of her scarf. “What? I already told Marceline to shut this down.”

The barista, Pete, shook his head. “I didn’t get any new instructions from her.”

“Is she your boss or something?” Bonnibel grumbled through gritted teeth.

“Wait, what?” Lady cut accusatorily. "You need some explaining to do, young lady!”

Bonnibel groaned and grabbed Lady by the hand. She kept her head down as she led them both out of the cafe, away from the curious stares of the other patrons.

“Wel, well, well, Bonnibel!” Lady began in utmost amusement.

Bonnibel panicked. “I am going to pay her back, okay? I will! It’s not like I asked her to do this for me, I swear—”

“Jesus, relax Bonnie. I mean why didn’t you tell me about Marceline keeping a tab open for you at the cafe?”

Bonnibel exhaled through her lips, trying to shake her embarrassment off. Lady watched her expectantly.

“I have tried to ask the barista not to put anything on the tab anymore. I even threatened to boycott them – they didn’t care! Last week I tried to order 45 flat whites as a joke. They didn’t even blink.”

“That’s insane,” Lady laughed.

“I already told Marceline to stop. Believe it or not, we ‘bumped into’ each other again at Mr. Petrikov’s office,” Bonnibel rolled her eyes but her embarrassed flush persisted. “Then she said she’d only stop if I went on a date with her. Like, who does that? I mean, what college kid could afford to pull this off?”

“A rich one, for sure.” Lady observed. “Do you like her?”

Bonnibel shrugged and her gaze fell on the pavement in thought. 

“I think I’m still figuring out how I feel about the whole thing with her—she’s so persistent, it’s annoying but, also—”

“Fascinating?” Lady supplied.

Bonnibel passed a hand over her brow in an effort to feel less exposed. It never worked with Lady who saw right through her.

“She’s ridiculous, really. That’s why I don’t understand why I’m liking the attention,” she confessed quietly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away, Rainie.”

She finally looked Lady in the eyes, waiting to see her best friend’s reaction.

Lady only giggled in response. “Chill out, B. It’s okay. Like you said, you’re still figuring it out. I called it, though. You wouldn’t react like this if you weren’t interested.” 

Lady draped an arm around her and led them both back to the cafe. 

Bonnibel clutched at Lady’s waist as they walked. “You know I’ve never taken other women’s advances seriously at all, but now… I don’t know.”

Lady smirked knowingly. It was effortless for Bonnibel to grasp any concept known to the best scientists in the world, but a prospective romance was breaking her brain. 

“But I do. I understand completely,” Lady squeezed her sympathetically. “And I’m actually quite happy you’re starting to entertain the thought of dating again. If I were Marceline I’d be extremely pleased with myself—it’s not an easy feat to get you out of nerd world.”

“Ha ha ha,” Bonnibel said dryly and sighed to herself. 

They were back inside the cafe and finally ordered coffee.

“So are you going to see Marceline tonight?” Lady asked.

“I’ll think about it.” Bonnibel replied vaguely, though she knew she was already halfway to deciding because she spent an inordinate amount of time on her outfit.

“Hey, Pete—” Bonnibel said to the barista, “Could you sum up my tab so far? Like my whole tab. I’m paying for all of it.”

Pete pursed his lips. “We’ve been through this, Bonnie. Marceline put it on her credit card, so every order is as good as paid.”

“I know, but can you track how much she has paid so far?” Bonnibel pressed, slapping Lady’s hand away when the latter tried to stop her from her attempt to shut down Marceline’s virtually unlimited largesse. But Lady got in front of her and blocked her out of Pete’s view. 

Through her limited view behind her tall friend, Bonnibel saw that the barista was shaking his head in exasperation. “You have to talk to Marceline yourself,” he said.

“You could do it tonight at her show, buy her a few drinks as repayment,” Lady suggested all too quickly.

Bonnibel threw her hands up in defeat. “Alright, fine! Let’s go, I’ve already made us late.” 

Lady laughed triumphantly. “Good! We’ll go together. But you’ll have to wait for me to get dressed. You look like you’re all set to go, which explains why you took so long to get ready today. You even left all your books in your locker. Which makes sense because you have an evening class that ends at 8. Talk about ready!”

Unhappy at being found out, Bonnibel nudged her with an elbow as gently as she could so as not to spill their drinks. Lady gently bumped against her hip in response. 

----------------

DBG's

“Damn, she actually came.” 

Marceline was in the middle of setting her bass and cables into her gig bag when her bandmate, Guy, whistled beside her. He had likewise paused from coiling his own cable to stare at someone at the far end of the pub.

“And looking like a snack too. What did you bribe her with, Mars?” Keila chimed in with a grin as she walked past them off the stage with her pedal board.

Marceline ignored Keila’s question and bit her tongue at the sight of Bonnibel Berenburg in a dusky pink trench coat, open at front, revealing a tiny dress in some shade of pink. Her hair was down, spilling in waves down her back. Marceline watched as her crush sipped from a martini glass at the end of the bar. Marceline hadn’t seen her in the crowd when they played their 35-minute set. The lights were all up in her face on stage.

“I knew she’d come,” Marceline remarked smugly and hurriedly packed up her stuff so she could come up to Bonnibel. Guy didn’t look too convinced.

“Yeah right. Knowing Bonnie, she was just too polite to turn down your invite.” He quipped despite the look of interest he aimed in Bonnibel’s direction.

“How do you even know her?” Marceline shot him a skeptical look.

“We went to the same high school. I met her at robotics club,” Guy said with an air of nonchalance that made Marceline want to roll her eyes. “She was a couple of years younger but was smarter than everyone else.”

“She’s Simon’s favorite student. She’s some sort of genius, I think,” Marceline wondered out loud.

“She is. And she looks like that,” Guy tipped his chin towards Bonnibel out at the bar, then looked at Marceline down his nose. “I rest my case.”

Keila cackled in the background and disappeared into the crowd, saying “Later, you horndogs.”

“Don’t be so negative, man. You’re killing my confidence here.” Marceline pouted.

Guy snorted. “As if that would ever happen. Dude, what about Kitty and her friend, whatshername?” His head jerked pointedly at a group of college kids drinking and laughing at a few tables away from the stage. Bongo, loud and congenial after their set, was among them.

Not for the first time, Marceline berated herself for flirting with a girl she didn’t like all that much especially when said girl was also entertaining other dudes. She had been dithering frivolously in and out of Kitty’s inbox hoping she’d come to the show in case Bonnibel didn’t come through which Marceline reasonably expected given how a rock gig obviously wasn’t Bonnibel's scene—well, aside from the fact that Bonnibel had dodged all her advances since day one. But Marceline saw no reason to admit that to Guy.

“Well you’ve been sliding into her DMs too. Since she obviously couldn’t make up her mind between us two, go make it up for her.” Marceline grinned and left Guy with a pat on his shoulder.

“I don’t want your sloppy seconds!” Guy called out with disdain behind her as she tucked her bass away in the equipment room at the back of the stage. 

"There's nothing between us, I swear."

"Okay, cool."

After stowing her equipment away, Marceline cracked her knuckles before walking across the pub. She made sure to give an acknowledging nod or a casual “what’s up” or “how you doing” as she parted through the crowd whose eyes were on her. She was used to the attention. The Scream Queens played around town a lot and always opened for bigger hardcore and punk rock acts, making them a well-loved staple in the local music scene. The Scream Queens were working on some original songs that Marceline wrote and she was eager to introduce them to the public after some refinements. With every crowd she hoped someone among them was connected in some way to a record label, so she tried her best to be friendly.

As Marceline came nearer to Bonnibel’s spot, she could see the latter arguing with a guy who looked to be a drunk frat boy.

“...second of all, it’s really rude when you don’t look a person in the eye when they’re talking to you. Hey!” Bonnie snapped her fingers across the dude’s face. His eyes were tracing the flush which spread down to her chest and disappeared behind the low neckline of her dress.

“Relax, I just wanted to buy you a drink.”

“I already have one! Just leave me alone, Luke. I’m waiting for my date.”

Marceline’s smile widened at Bonnibel’s white lie even though she knew for a fact that it wouldn’t deter the guy at all, so she cut into the space between them and glowered at the guy. 

“Okay, come on buddy. She already said no.” Bonnibel looked relieved at her arrival.

The guy scoffed and turned away, but not before he could mutter “haven’t changed at all”.

"Hi, Marceline," Bonnibel greeted with a tap on the empty stool beside her.

"Hey," Marceline stared at Bonnibel in confusion as she took the seat. “Old friend of yours?”

Bonnibel sighed as she twisted the garnish over her drink. A nervous tell? Marceline mused internally.

“We went on a date before. Didn’t work out."

“Sorry to cut off your reunion there.” Marceline put her hands up in mock apology before sitting down on the stool beside Bonnibel’s. She could admit to being a little disappointed that Bonnibel might be straight.

“We'd probably have nothing to talk about, so I'm grateful for the interruption.”

Marceline asked the bartender for a drink before turning back to Bonnibel who was looking back at her—and checking her out a little. But Marceline was more awestruck at how Bonnibel was actually, finally, talking to her.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. Did you come with Lady?” Marceline asked. 

"Yeah, with Lady and Jake. They went out to smoke, I think. I figured I could use a break to take my mind off my exams. I feel like I could've done so much better.” Bonnibel explained taking her eyes away from Marceline who had caught her staring. Marceline did some of her own as the other girl took a shy sip of her drink.

“Better to enjoy the present than dwell on the past. Good thing I invited you, you look like you need some rock and roll in your life.” Marceline said, noting the stiff posture of her back and the demure way she folded her hands on her lap when she wasn’t holding her drink. The girl was gorgeous but she didn’t look like she belonged in Marceline’s world at all… yet here she was, spurring Marceline’s excitement. She could talk all night but she was internally speechless at Bonnibel's presence.

Bonnibel laughed and tossed her a glance. “Whatever, I know I’m a nerd and I happen to be proud of that. Anyway, you sounded really good.” 

Marceline relaxed at the welcome turn to a familiar topic. “So you heard us play? I didn’t see you when I was up there with all the lights.”

“Yeah, from start to finish. I know I don’t look like a rock music savant but your voice is quite soulful and it sounds so good backed up with the heavy instrumentals.”

Marceline grinned from ear to ear, delighted at the description. “Hell yeah. So you really were listening.”

“Of course I was! What did you think I’d be doing at a rock show?” Bonnibel asked, her perfect eyebrows raised in candid inquiry.

“It’s great that you take live music seriously, Ms. Berenburg,” was all Marceline could say back as she raised her at her appreciatively before taking a gulp.

"It's Bonnie," Bonnibel offered openly and smiled. "And yes of course I take live music seriously. When in Rome," she raised her own glass of vodka in return, looking pleased. 

“Bonnie, then. Anyway, I never said there was anything wrong with being a nerd. You dig science, I dig music and I know shit ton about it too,” Marceline reassured her.

“Oh it’s okay, I’ve been teased about it all my life. It’s lost all bite since second grade.” Bonnibel brushed it off.

“Damn, second grade? So you are a genius." Marceline said in awe.

“You could say that.” Bonnibel replied without missing a beat, seeming self-contained and apparently accustomed to handling the matter as her gaze fell steady on Marceline, observing her reaction. “Does that sort of thing intimidate you?”

Marceline stared back, weighing the thoughts in her head if they were appropriate to say out loud. Then she decided she didn’t care much about propriety. “It… turns me on, actually.”

A flush bloomed on Bonnibel’s cheeks. “That’s a first.”

“Oh come on, Hedy Lamarr,” Marceline gestured at Bonnibel’s appearance incredulously. “You must know what you look like. To be a stone cold fox and a genius – That’s hot.”

“Shut up.” Bonnibel smacked her on the arm which Marceline half-heartedly dodged. Her whole face was red now, flattery coaxing the corners of her mouth into a smile.

“I mean it. I’m the luckiest person in this room right now.” Marceline went on. Bonnibel simply shook her head and brushed it off.

“Also the most popular. People keep staring at you, you know.” 

Marceline looked around to see what Bonnibel meant, but only saw Bongo across the room looking over at them. Beside him was Guy and Kitty who both tried to make eye contact with her. Marceline pretended not to notice.

“Oh those guys? They’re just my bandmates.” She turned back and shrugged, calling for another drink. 

“Well, I didn’t mean your bandmates. I meant everybody else in this room.” Bonnibel giggled. “I’m sensing you guys are a big deal.”

Marceline sighed and shook her head. “I so wish for that to be true, Bonnie.”

“With the way you play, someday soon, for sure.” Bonnibel assured her. Marceline’s chest felt like it could burst.

What a huge difference a change of scene made to Bonnibel’s demeanor. Marceline had used every excuse in the book to bump into Bonnibel in between her classes while Marceline visited Simon who happened to be one of Bonnibel’s professors. Of course her first excuse had been to ask her for directions to Simon’s office. Bonnibel stiffly but politely agreed to accompany her there. As she led Marceline down the familiar halls she amused Marceline to no end with her prim and evasive responses to the musician’s remarks.

But there was something about Bonnibel being the one to actually come see her. Now they were talking so casually and she complimented her band’s music. 

Marceline’s phone started vibrating in the pocket. She pressed one of the buttons through the fabric of her jeans to make it stop. She suddenly wanted to get away from the crowded bar.

"Do you want to go somewhere more private? There's a vacant booth in the back." Marceline proposed.

“Sure, but I think that’s your bandmate coming over here…” Bonnibel was looking past her shoulder.

Marceline turned around in her seat to see Bongo walking over to them. She grit her teeth but managed to pull a straight face. “Oh - Bonnie, this is Bongo our drummer."

"Hi Bonnie," Bongo greeted Bonnibel in his amiable baritone.

"Hello, Bongo. I’m glad I finally heard you guys play. I was sorry to miss the show at the fundraiser," Bonnibel said diplomatically.

It dawned on Bongo that she was the Bonnibel Berenburg that organized the previous gig. He nodded and squeezed her hand. "It’s really cool of you to support the local music scene. Thank you. Could you excuse us for a second?" He shot a curious look at Marceline.

"Of course," Bonnibel replied and turned her attention to her drink.

Bongo slung an arm around his bandmate and got close to her ear. “Dude. Kitty has been asking about you nonstop. What am I gonna tell her?” He tried to whisper but ended up talking louder when the music turned up. 

Marceline, conscious that Bonnibel probably heard what he said, wormed out of Bongo’s arm, trying to make things appear normal. “You could have texted me,” Marceline muttered in annoyance.

“You haven’t looked at your phone since you sat down with her.” Bongo replied.

“Why isn’t Guy chatting her up?” Marceline resigned herself to Bongo’s interruption.

“The man’s got no game! She doesn’t want Guy, she wants you.” Again, Bongo failed at his attempt at whispering. Marceline sighed but couldn’t blame him for his kindly nature. He wouldn’t even take a shot at Kitty’s friend who was obviously into him, judging from the way she’d all but screamed his name during their set.

“Just be cool, Bongo. Don’t worry so much. And go ask for her friend’s number. She has a huge crush on you.” Marceline tried to brush him off.

“Come on, Mars—”

“Okay, fine I’ll go over there. Just give me a minute, alright.” She lied.

A look of relief crossed Bongo’s face before he left and managed a small smile for Bonnibel.

“Do you have to be somewhere else?” Bonnibel asked, making Marceline turn back to her as Bongo left. 

Marceline cursed herself for the hint of disappointment in Bonnibel’s voice and knowing she was the cause of it. “No. No, that was nothing,” Marceline scrambled. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?”

Bonnibel raised an eyebrow. “What about Kitty?”

Shit, so she heard that. Marceline waved a hand dismissively. “She’s not my friend. She’s nobody.”

“Where is she?” Bonnibel suddenly plopped down from her seat to stand closer to Marceline, ending up at the space between Marceline’s knees. She scanned her eyes at Bongo’s table, trying to figure out which one was Kitty.

“Uh,” Marceline cleared her throat in a mixture of embarrassment and confusion. It was hard to concentrate; her pulse accelerated and all she could smell was Bonnibel’s perfume.

“The one next to Guy.” She answered and noticed that Bonnibel’s face was dangerously close to hers.

Bonnibel shot a burning gaze at Bongo’s table. Then she turned to face Marceline like a crazy idea had taken her mind hostage. Marceline could feel the girl’s breath on her skin.

“Oh, that girl. She’s looking right at us.” Bonnibel reported for Marceline who couldn’t see what was going on unless she turned around, which she would not do. She had never seen such a mischievous look on Bonnibel’s face, surprised to know that she even possessed such a side to her personality. Her blue eyes shone in excitement, the alcohol making her unravel.

“Do you want to talk to her?” Bonnibel asked. She smirked like she already knew the answer.

“No.” Marceline answered plainly, her gaze falling on Bonnibel’s lips. The next moment, those lips were right next to her ear as Bonnibel pressed her cheek against hers, just enough to make it appear that she was planting a kiss there, if one looked at them at a certain angle. 

For a few beautiful seconds, Marceline was completely engulfed in Bonnibel. The faint scent of her makeup. The light strands of her hair tickling Marceline’s face. The soft pressure of a cheek on hers. Bonnibel’s plush, glossed lips so close to her ear. The small puffs of air from her nose on Marceline’s skin. They stayed like that for a beat. Marceline dared not to move.

Bonnibel pulled away a little breathlessly. “There. Now you don’t have to talk to her.”

Marceline managed a lopsided grin, head still spinning. “I never wanted to.”

When Marceline risked a glance behind her, Kitty was nowhere in sight. Bonnibel was peeling off her coat, a little flustered herself. Then at the door, she saw Jake and Lady scouting the pub for them. Marceline waved at them to come over and tapped Bonnibel’s forearm for her to see.

"Finally!" Bonnibel called out as soon as she saw her best friend was within earshot. Lady held her arms out and beamed at Bonnie. Jake trailed behind her with a grin.

“You guys took so long. I was beginning to think you guys weren’t just smoking.” Bonnie teased as she pulled away from the embrace.

"Oh, Bonnie, don't start. Hello, Marceline," Lady slung an arm around the musician and looked at her appreciatively. "You two are looking awfully close. Are you having a good time, B?

“Despite the fact that you left me here, I am actually having a good time." Bonnibel admitted.

"We were out for just a few minutes, gosh, I'm sorry.” Lady squeezed her apologetically. "I knew Marceline would come to you though. She always does."

"Like a moth to flame," agreed Marceline all too readily.

Jake pulled Marceline into a one-armed hug. “Insane show, man. You guys sounded amazing.”

“Thanks, Jake. That means a lot.” Marceline patted his back gratefully.

“We’re hanging out in the car for a bit, maybe you two wanna join us?” Jake asked.

“And hotbox with you? You know THC makes me sleepy. No thanks.” Bonnie shook her head. She turned to Marceline. “Unless you want a toke?”

“I won’t if you won’t. I’m good either way.” Marceline answered.

"I'll be fine here, Lady,” Bonnibel decided.

"She should be fine, you hear me Abadeer?" Lady softly threatened with a light grip at Marceline's collar.

"Of course. We won't be doing anything that she doesn't want to do." Marceline winked, unfazed at Lady's protectiveness.

“Alright, let us know if you guys wanna do something a little later,” Jake waved goodbye. Lady hugged Bonnibel and, after whispering in her ear, caught up with Jake as they both went back out of the pub.

“Girls and their secrets, huh?” Marceline remarked lightly after their friends left. Bonnibel just shook her head and wasn’t about to take Marceline’s bait.

“Another round, Marceline? It’s on me.” She offered instead.

“Really? Sweet. But you don’t have to do that,” Marceline replied, ordering another round anyway.

“I want to. Pete at the cafe won’t allow me to pay for anything.” Bonnibel grumbled.

Marceline smirked. “Good. He’s doing his job right.” Before Bonnibel could respond, Marceline grabbed both of their drinks and stood up.

“Come on, let’s go to that booth. It’s quieter there and the guys have left.” She said, motioning to the booth where her bandmates had once occupied. Bonnibel agreed and followed her.

“Seriously, Marceline. It’s the cafe nearest to my building. You need to close that tab. It feels so weird not paying for my coffee.” Bonnibel pleaded while Marceline just laughed.

“Can’t I get a ‘thank you’, at least?” Marceline pleaded right back as they both sat down.

“Thank you, Marceline. But I have a lot of questions.” Bonnibel finally laughed along.

“Such as?”

“How did you manage to open that tab in that cafe specifically? And are you not worried about the amount of money you were wasting on me? I mean, I have a coffee budget.”

“I know, I know. It’s silly, but it got your attention, didn’t it?” Marceline grinned. "The owner of the cafe is Simon's wife, Betty. Simon is practically family. You can guess the rest."

Bonnibel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh. That does explain things."

“Yeah. And don’t worry about the money. I have more than I know what to do with, trust me.”

It would have come off as a boast but for the uncharacteristic timidity in Marceline’s tone that Bonnibel almost didn’t catch what she was saying.

Bonnibel knew from Mr. Petrikov that Marceline was the unwilling heiress to her father’s business empire that involved earthmoving equipment. The professor didn’t elaborate any further, fearing that he had already said too much. 

Bonnibel was curious but she had to tread lightly. “If you say so, Marceline. I’m curious, though. What’s your major? There’s no renowned music school in the state that I know of.”

“You’re right, there isn’t. I’m majoring in business – dad’s orders,” Marceline shrugged like it didn’t matter to her. “It’s a slog but I’m in my final year now.”

“Really? I didn’t peg you as a business major at all, no offence.”

“None taken. I’m glad I don’t come off as one of those fools. Even though I am,” Marceline chuckled. “Not out of my own choice, at least.”

“So does that mean that you’re more invested in your music?” Bonnibel prodded some more.

Marceline nodded. “My major is just insurance, you know? My dad’s not getting any younger and my older half-brother has all but rejected his inheritance.” There was a wistful look in her eyes now, her gaze dropping to the bartop. “I would too, but… I promised my mom to stay with my dad.” 

She cleared her throat and appeared to reset. “Music is the only thing I’m invested in right now. Well, apart from getting to know you more.” She winked at Bonnibel. 

Bonnibel grinned. Marceline’s usual nonchalance returned just like that. But she couldn’t help but notice the softened edges of Marceline’s tone as she spoke of her mother.

“Sure, but you’re doing all the talking it seems,” Bonnibel quipped.

“Not my fault you’re so curious about me,” Marceline shot back. 

The warmth in Bonnibel’s laugh made Marceline’s confidence surge. She was sure Bonnibel was interested in her now. She wouldn’t be curious and open like this if she wasn’t. Wouldn’t pretend to kiss her to make Kitty go away if she wasn’t.

As they went on talking to each other and three rounds of scotch later, it dawned on Marceline that she had gained Bonnibel’s rapt attention - the one thing she had wanted from the start.

Bonnibel was four drinks deep and never once brushed off Marceline’s arm draped on the back of the seat, just right above Bonnibel’s shoulders. When Marceline talked about her music, Bonnibel made steady eye contact which made her feel self-conscious. When an acquaintance of Marceline’s passed by their spot to say hello, the musician unabashedly whispered something about him in Bonnibel’s ear that had her laughing into Marceline’s collar. She asked about the large plugs on Marceline's earlobes. "Are these painful?" She had asked as she gently trailed a finger along an ear before pulling her hand back innocently. At some point Bonnibel had grown annoyed at the lack of privacy and the countless interruptions by Marceline's acquaintances that she whispered in her ear, "Can we go somewhere else?" to which Marceline simply nodded. After Bonnibel insisted on paying for their drinks, Marceline took her by the hand and led her outside the pub.

Some of the crowd had spilled over outside, people drinking and talking on the narrow patio and on the steps leading down the sidewalk. 

Marceline put her jacket on, then helped Bonnibel into hers as well. She waved at her friends who called out to her in greeting. "Sup, Marceline? Sick show."

"Thanks, man. We’re heading out. Good night!" Marceline tossed a grin behind her as she continued to pull Bonnibel in the direction of the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" Bonnibel asked breathlessly, heels clicking on the pavement as she kept up with Marceline's stride.

"I'm taking you home. I don't think you'll be able to drive tonight." Marceline stopped in her tracks to take Bonnibel by the waist so they could walk side by side.

"I didn't drive. I rode with Jake and Lady. Wait, I have to text them," Bonnibel fumbled with her words and her purse, looking for her phone.

"Alright go text them before you forget," Marceline agreed and let go of her. “Where are they, anyway?”

“Probably doing something unholy at Jake’s place,” Bonnibel answered.

Marceline watched Bonnibel squint at her phone screen, too intoxicated to focus on the letters.

"Here, let me type it out for you, okay? Give me your phone." Marceline offered.

"It's okay, I can do it. You know what, I'll just leave a voice message - Hey, Rainie. I'm still with Marceline right now and she'll drive me home so you don't need to worry, I’ll be safe. Text me in the morning!" After Bonnibel stashed her phone away, she returned to Marceline's side to be held as their walk continued.

"I'm flattered that you think you're safe with me," Marceline remarked thoughtfully with a chuckle as Bonnibel pressed into her side. "And you are – It's just nice."

"Yeah well you may be very flirtatious but I think you're pretty harmless." Bonnibel replied sleepily against her neck.

"Me, flirtatious? Speak for yourself," Marceline smirked down at the girl clinging to her. 

Bonnibel pretended not to hear and pressed further into Marceline's jacket. "Just to be clear, you are taking me to my dorm right?"

"Uh, yeah. You're sloshed, woman." Marceline replied while suppressing the shudder at the breath on her neck. The street lamps overhead illuminated only part of Bonnibel's face, but she could see that her eyes were half-lidded from the alcohol.

"It's been a while since I had a drink or two. I usually get drunk during the holidays with my cousins." 

Marceline giggled at her. "Sounds fun. You parents don't complain?"

"They're from Europe."

"Cool." Marceline clutched at her more tightly as they trudged through the gravel parking lot.

"Marceline, you're very strong. I can barely feel the ground under my feet." Bonnibel remarked in awe but went on to attempt to stand by herself. It only took a second before she took Marceline's arm again for balance. 

"High school rugby training gets handy at times," Marceline smirked, though it was hardly a brag since Bonnibel was very light.

"Hmm, I didn’t expect that about you. Well, I shall rely on your strength." She surrendered with a wobble. They finally reached Marceline's ride, a well-maintained vintage muscle car.

"Nice. This being your car is something I totally expected," Bonnibel remarked in amusement. Marceline opened the passenger door for her with a grin.

"It's my dad's. I'm just borrowing it. So since we're playing stereotypes, let me guess - you drive a silver convertible, probably a Bentley."

"You're not even remotely close, Marceline. And here I thought you've been stalking me." Bonnibel shook her head in faux disappointment and sank into her seat. Marceline went around to the driver's side.

Once inside, she said, "To be fair, I've never seen you outside your campus except DBG's. There really wasn't much material for stalking."

“I’m over at Glover Hall. Do you know where it is?” Bonnibel asked as she buckled her seatbelt. The car roared to life. Bonnibel could feel the rumble of the engine underneath her.

“Yeah, I got it. You know, for a sorority girl, you’re such a lightweight,” Marceline teased. 

“Drinking and partying is not all we do, Marceline,” Bonnibel protested lightly. “Well, at least that’s not what I do. I have too much on my plate.” She yawned.

“I’m sure. That’s why I feel so special to have you all to myself tonight.” Marceline chuckled.

Bonnibel didn’t answer. Marceline shot her a glance, just enough to catch Bonnibel’s parted lips and the flush that made her cheeks glow. She appeared to be deep in thought. Marceline left her to it and simply drove. 

A few minutes into the ride Bonnibel started to nod off. Her head was resting on her seatbelt when Marceline gently held her shoulder. She felt it but sleep pulled her back.

When Bonnibel finally opened her eyes, she saw that they were parked in front of the gates of her dorm. The red brick exterior of the art deco sorority house glowed softly from the outdoor lamps. All of the windows were dark except for the entryway lights. Most of the pledges were either out or already home for the holidays.

Marceline was beside her, texting on her phone. The glow of the device illuminated her face. She looked relaxed. Patient, even.

“I fell asleep,” Bonnibel said softly. “Sorry, Marceline.”

Marceline chuckled. “It’s alright. Looked like you needed it.”

“You should have woken me up,” Bonnibel grumbled, embarrassed.

“I did, but you just snored at me.”

“I don’t snore,” Bonnibel pouted in protest. “Well, come on. I’m so thirsty.”

Marceline turned off the ignition and stepped out of the car. She rounded the hood and opened Bonnibel’s door, waiting for her to step out. 

"Am I even allowed to go into your building?" Marceline asked as Bonnibel unfastened her seatbelt.

"We can get in, don't worry." Bonnibel replied and got out of the car. She clutched at Marceline's arm, this time more gently than before. The nap had sobered her up some. She led the way for them through the gates, then through the glass panelled door after punching in a code. Thankfully everyone was out partying now that exams were over. 

Led by Bonnibel, they made their way inside the building. The brightly-lit living area was decked with banners, pennants and framed photos of ambitious young women who had called the place home over the years. When they passed by the last group photo on the hallway, Marceline spotted Bonnibel among a group of girls at what looked like a convention center. They all wore shirts emblazoned with greek letters, and to Marceline's surprise, Bonnibel was sporting pastel pink hair.

"Hey, this is you!" Marceline paused at the photo to take a closer look. Bonnibel, who had been leading the way, took a step back to glance at it.

"Oh, yeah. I was still a pledge back then. The pink hair dye was temporary." Bonnibel explained, nostalgia pulling her lips into a small smile.

"It looks good on you. I didn't think you were the type." Marceline confessed with a chuckle.

"You're right, I'm not. But I had to do it as part of the pledge rites. Long story short - I was paired up with a goth girl. I let her dye my hair pink because we had to do something that would foster 'bonding and sisterhood’.” Bonnibel smiled wryly in recollection.

"So did it?" Marceline asked with an expectant grin. 

"It did, actually. We were good friends, but she and her family had to move back to Lisbon last year." Bonnibel recalled as she resumed walking and pulled Marceline by the hand. "I was terrified but it turned out better than I expected. The other girls started thinking that I may not be such a prude after all. Amazing what getting out of your comfort zone can accomplish.”

"Well you're the chapter President now, or so I heard." Said Marceline as she eagerly laced their fingers together. 

"I'm not quite sure if you just heard that." Bonnibel giggled, teasing her. She squeezed Marceline’s hand playfully.

Marceline shrugged. "So I asked around, big deal."

They reached the staircase where Bonnibel paused at the landing. She turned around and regarded Marceline with careful, but curious, eyes.

"Are you really that interested in me?" She asked softly. 

"What do you think?" Marceline inquired back playfully with a gentle tug at their linked hands.

"I think… you're a bit of an asshole who knows how attractive she is, though despite that, you may still have self-esteem issues, judging by the way you tried negging your way to get my attention at first." 

Stunned, Marceline's grin faded as she bit her bottom lip. "Whoa. I gotta hand it to you, Bonnie – you don’t hold back." Her eyebrows shot up in awe.

"Sorry, that was mean. I am kind of a bitch, a workaholic, a prude as you know, etc, etc." Bonnibel shrugged and put her arms around Marceline's shoulders, looking up at her, apologetic with a hint of mischief. "But you managed to get me out tonight."

Marceline was still recovering, but amusement tugged a corner of her lips into a smirk. It was clear that Bonnibel didn't want any pretensions and didn't want any games.

"Also I've been told I could be quite transactional sometimes, but it's just me wanting efficiency..." she trailed off as Marceline's hands found her waist underneath her jacket.

"Speaking of efficiency, I have to ask — are you even gay?" Marceline asked.

"I think I am. And you?" 

"Hella gay. Especially for you," Marceline whispered as Bonnibel stood close. So close that Marceline could make out the faint freckles on her skin that showed through her fading make-up. 

“But wait, you think you’re gay? You’re not sure?” Marceline pressed.

Bonnibel shrugged. “I’ve always thought I was bisexual, but I’ve never actually been with a girl, you know?” 

Marceline nodded. "Understood. So… What else does this transaction need?" 

"Currency," Bonnibel replied under breath. "We've been trading information for the past couple of hours, but you still owe me for getting you out of your own mess back at DBG's."

Marceline dropped her gaze and grinned. She had never felt so transparent before anyone.

"Then let me repay you." She offered.

"With what?" Bonnibel asked.

Marceline had regained enough confidence to look up at those bright blue eyes that seemed to penetrate her every facade.

"You can have me," Marceline said just above a whisper. “In any way you want.”

Bonnibel licked her lips, nodded once and let go of Marceline. She turned around and started climbing the stairs.

Marceline stuffed her hands into her back pockets. The heat in her belly rose as she watched the way Bonnibel's hips swayed with every step.

Without pausing, Bonnibel turned her head just enough to reveal her face in profile. "I said I was thirsty. Aren’t you coming?”

{}