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The wind makes her hair whip in quick scratches at the nape of her neck so Marceline takes it and jams it down her sweatshirt, pulling the hood up around her face tight, tight, tight until it's just pinpoint eyes and little fangs that are visible. Better, she thinks, and adjusts the leather strap of her axe bass until it's swinging comfortably against her back as she flies. The sun is still an hour from setting so she keeps to the shadows along the tree line between her cave and the distant treehouse.
"Marceline!" Finn had shouted over the phone earlier, "You've got to come jam with me and Jake, yo!" A crash of what had sounded like dinnerware, cymbals, and a slinky(?) echoed over the line and Finn huffed loudly out of breath.
Jake shouted from a distance. "We've created the ultimate instrument. You have to come see it!"
"Like right now!" It was Finn again, coughing and laughing.
An eye roll. "Chill, man. Seriously. You sound like you're going to pop a blood vessel." She'd said, stretching a striped sock up her leg, balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder. "But yeah, I'll come check it. Sounds cool."
"Marceline's coming!" Finn had shouted to Jake, muffled through his hand over the receiver. "Get that harp balanced on top of the tire again. And kazoos! More kazoos!"
"Alright, alright," she'd eased, "I'll be over after sunset. Oh, and Finn?"
"Yeah?"
Her words had slithered out in a hiss, twisting and winding their way through the phone. "If this is a waste of my time I'll eat you both. Straight up demon style. Tell Jake. He knows what's up."
Finn's nervous gulp was nothing compared to her throaty cackle as she hung up the phone mid-laughter. Always good to keep them on their toes, she'd decided, laughing still as she worked her way into the slowly dying daylight.
--
Tucking her hair into her sweatshirt solves the wind problem but exacerbates the itchy-hair-on-her-back problem so Marceline stops again to adjust, growling hopelessly in struggle. It's as she twists and turns that she spots it beneath the overlook, digging through some sort of something. Maybe a box. Maybe a basket.
Marceline swallows and well, it's not so much an it… rather it's a her. And, really, not even her… more just -- pink. And from what she can make out it's a rather recognizable pink. On a checkered picnic blanket… pouring a mug no two mugs of hot chocolate… handing one to --
"Stop, girl!" Marceline huffs aloud "Don't let your creep levels get out of control," but then she's already on her belly, wriggling up to the edge of the hill, peering down at the figures from behind a caramel apple tree. Some habits are hard to break, she tells herself with squinted eyes and furrowed brow.
It's Bubblegum for sure, blowing on her cocoa and giggling into the rim, but it's the other person that Marceline doesn't recognize. She eyes him warily. Lumpy yellow skin. A tattered shirt. Torn corduroys covering three gangly legs. A giant limp arm splayed uselessly across the blanket. A bulging red eye with sticky green gunk in the corners --
-- A slack jaw that Bubblegum's pink hand cups gently and onto which Bubblegum's pink lips plant a row of soft kisses along and what?! and dear glob and what?! again. Marceline sputters and wheezes violently, just nearly throwing up in her mouth.
"What," she finally flatlines, wrenching her eyes back open to confirm the sight and yes, it's Bubblegum making out with some sort of banana monster and holy hotdog buns Marceline wishes she was drinking something at the time if only to achieve a spit-take of epic proportions.
The vampire hums and calculates. Her eyes catch a string of spit stretching between the two as they part and she gags again, swallowing whatever was threatening to come up.
Mental scar number six thousand forty-seven: Check.
Something dark and anxious prickles in her stomach but she pushes it down, clamping tight whatever emotional nonsense convulses. "Only one thing to do," she muses as she pulls out her cellphone, thumbs flying across numbers memorized years ago. A vicious grin splits her face and she laughs, "This is going to be some good gravy."
The phone rings three times before Marceline spots Bubblegum excusing herself and digging through her bag. Her blue-grey fingers jump in anticipation. How should this prank go? Super scary demon voice? Maybe perky telemarketer that can't take no for an answer. Wait! A PDA police officer that's been getting too many reports of some real nast going down --
A cheerful voice in her ear interrupts. "Guten Abend! Princess Bubblegum speaking, how may I help you?"
Marceline's eyes dart back to the picnic as Bubblegum finally pulls her hand from her bag and produces a small box. She lifts the lid. Chocolate strawberries.
No phone in sight. Crud.
Marceline stammers and her cheeks burn hot with confusion. "I, um… uh, hello?"
Bubblegum, picnic Bubblegum, presses one of the strawberries to the banana dude's lips, smiles, then thumbs the chocolate he gets on his face in a single swipe. Sucking, she licks the chocolate from her thumb and Marceline feels something dizzy knocking around in her skull.
"Yes, hello. How can I help you?" The other, other Bubblegum's tone is terse now, annoyed at Marceline's incoherence.
"…Yo. Whaddup?" Marceline manages, trying for nonchalant, immediately regretting ever picking up the phone. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The line sizzles white noise before, "Marceline? Is that you?" Glass clinks. Papers shuffle.
"Yeah," she starts, "Hey. So."
"…Hey. So?"
Marceline curls her knees to her chest and leans against the sticky bark, pulling off her hood and worrying her hand into the fabric. "You don't, uh, you don't date, right?"
White noise again. The line buzzes hot. Marceline can almost feel Bubblegum's face harden and when she speaks it's clearly through a mouth tight with hesitation. "Why," Bubblegum finally counters and it's not even a question, it's a challenge.
Have to give her props for that one.
Marceline cocks her head around and studies the scene below again. They're cuddled now, the sunset playing against their clasped hands. "Well, then maybe you can explain the weird shizz I'm peeping right now."
Bubblegum clears her throat. "What, uh… what do you mean?"
"Well," Marceline starts to laugh, it really is ridiculous, "I'm watching you, well, I guess not you, hold hands with what can only be a lumpy banana peel monster. You guys kissed. A lot." She blanches. "With tongue bits and everything."
"What?!" Phone Bubblegum's horror is apparent but then realization quickly sets and it's all, "Oh. Oh! Ooh!
Marceline waits. "Mind cluing me in? My stomach can't handle much more of this lovey dovey show." She sticks her tongue out for emphasis, a useless act.
"So they are engaging in ritualistic displays of courtship?" She asks and Marceline can hear a scratchy pencil flying over paper.
"Uh, I guess you could call it that?"
Papers shuffle. An absent-minded hum. Somehow the silence of Bubblegum working is almost comfortable so Marceline tilts her head upward and watches the clouds change color in the setting light. The moon will be visible soon and the hair on her forearms prickle.
"Ok!" Bubblegum finally gives, "Where are you? I'll meet you there. I'd love to observe Braco's infatuation levels fluctuate in real time." Marceline can already hear her moving about, ready to leave.
She sighs. Bonnie could be such a brain sometimes. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh!" Bubblegum hums cheerily, "No worries! I'll just use the GPS tracker in your phone to get your coordinates! See you soon!"
The phone clicks and the wind whips through Marceline's hair, pulling it from her sweatshirt in a violent tug. Her mind staggers. "What just happened…?" She mutters and digs her teeth into her bottom lip.
It's then that she realizes GPS tracker and scoffs. Not cool, B-gum, not cool.
--
She's picking at the dirt beneath her nails when the ground by the tree begins to rumble and shake. Marceline jolts, feeling the heavy vibrations from the soil sing through her body. A few leaves shake loose and land on Marceline's head. A caramel apple drops. She kicks it away and floats a few inches above, watching in interest as the dirt and roots displace and jut out of the grass. Soon, a churning metal drill breaks forth, whizzing and chugging in a mechanical symphony. The small pod attached to the drill emerges, glinting in the setting sun. Bubblegum's smiling face peeks out through the circular window and, as the rotation slows to a heavy stop, the doors lift open with hissing hydraulics and the princess steps out onto the now uneven ground.
"Wow," Marceline remarks, "Discreet you are not."
Bubblegum brushes some of the falling dirt off her lab coat and pulls her purple backpack tighter against her. "Heh, just a little subterranean transport vehicle I wanted to test out. No big." She shrugs and looks around, spotting the overlook. "Oh! Our subjects! Excellent!"
Marceline can see the dust swirling in the air, catching the last bit of sunlight before night is upon them. Bubblegum's already getting set up with various notebooks and gadgets, pushing her thick round glasses up as they slip, and finding a spot by the ridge's edge to "observe their subjects."
"Hey! Bonnibel!" Marceline hovers in front of her, blocking her view. "Not so fast." She crosses her arms and plants her feet firmly in the ground. She teeters over the edge a bit so maybe she doesn't look as intimidating as she was going for but still. "GPS tracker? Hmm? What's that about?" She pulls out her phone, her hand now a furry claw, and smashes it in her fist. Broken bits land on Bubblegum's notebook.
There. Mad intimidating.
The princess looks up and gives her a dismissive wave. "Yeah, yeah, sorry. We're upping our intelligence gathering tech in the Candy Kingdom. National security and all that." She pushes her glasses up again. "Works well, huh?"
Over the years (Decades? Centuries? It's hard to keep track) Marceline has realized that there's this very, very particular thing about Bubblegum. In fact, it's so particular that Marceline can't really pinpoint it, can't name it per say, but she knows it when she feels it and that feeling tends to take the form of pure, seething frustration. Sometimes, a lot of times, Bubblegum manages to ties knots in her stomach and it's annoying yeah, but it's also a little confusing how quickly she manages to get the vampire's undead blood boiling.
This is one of those times.
Bubblegum must notice the storm brewing because she stretches a pink hand to Marceline's sneaker and squeezes… comforting her? It's condescending, sure, but Marceline's so taken aback that she guesses the small act must have worked. Bubblegum smirks and her eyes are alight with scientific discovery. Marceline's seen the look before, knows the tunnel vision Bubblegum gets when there's some research or testing or whatever to be done, so it's probably a fruitless fight from both ends.
"Come check it, Marcy." Bubblegum pats the grass beside her. "Don't you want to know why there are currently two Princess Bubblegums here and why one of them is on a twilight picnic date? Hmm? Sounds like some real weird sauce, right?" Her eyes sparkle, inviting.
Marceline chews the inside of her cheek. She forgot about the date. She hovers on her stomach, taking Bubblegum's pose. "Alright, spill."
Bubblegum points the eraser of her pencil towards the yellow beast. "That's Braco. He was one of my suitors but he was way too into it." She grabs one of her machines to show Marceline, a hand held measuring device with a long pointed antenna and a counter with a needle that swings back and forth. She points it down at Braco and turns a dial adjusting the machine. Radio static crackles. "It's a little iffy, sometimes it jumps from subject to subject," she offers although she's talking absentmindedly, mostly to the machine, "Sometimes… it takes… a second… and… there!" She exclaims as the needle jumps and the machine beeps and whirs. "Locked on. Ah, he's at a healthy infatuation level. Good!" Bubblegum scribbles an incomprehensible note.
She realizes Marceline's been watching the entire display with confusion splashed across her face so she continues, "Braco was driving himself crazy with misplaced infatuation for me so I did the only reasonable thing to be done -- I made him a robot doppelganger of myself and programmed P-bot with dreams of nothing but domestic bliss! They're dating now! Fascinating, right?"
The machine beeps again. "Oh! See, Marceline! She touched his shoulder and his output jumped." Her wrist blurs with the speed at which she's writing. She chews her pencil. "Interesting… It seems like physical stimuli creates an exponential increase…interesting…"
Marceline blinks and studies the princess, that same dizziness knocking around in her head. She gets up close to Bubblegum, close enough to feel her uneven breath.
"You… have crazy eyes, Bonnie. Like, nutso, poo-brained crazy. Like, hide-the-steak-knives-when-she-comes-over crazy eyes."
"What?!" Bubblegum bristles, clearly offended.
Marceline sticks a finger uncomfortably close to Bubblegum's right eye. "Here," she points out then moves to her other eye, "And here. Straight up cray."
Bubblegum swats her hand away. "Oh, c'mon. That's not crazy! You should have seen him, Marceline, he was driving himself bonkers over me. P-bot was the only solution." She frowns. "I'm serious."
The vampire meets her frown with an outlandishly incredulous look. "The only solution is for him to date a robot?! That's the solution? Really?"
That very, very particular thing about Bubblegum? It may be due to her mind-rattling, unbelievable stubbornness. Marceline realizes this as Bubblegum grabs the fallen caramel apple and takes a huge bite right in the vampire's face. There's a satisfying crunch and a bit of juice drips from the corner of her mouth. Bubblegum wipes it away with her lab coat sleeve. "Yes," she deadpans between chews, challenging the vampire with a single word once again.
She's infuriating.
The sun has completely set and the moon is large in the sky. It glints off of Bubblegum's glasses and Marceline's not sure why but there's something about the whole situation with P-bot that really bothers her. It bothers her enough to take up Bubblegum's challenge, a terrible idea, no doubt.
"But it's not real!" she exclaims, floating higher and spinning to face her. "How can you be in love with someone programmed to be in love?" She swings her bass around and thumbs out a few heavy notes. They vibrate through her fingers.
Bubblegum only scowls in response but Marceline continues.
"The best part about being with someone is all the ways they're not like you, all the ways they see the world differently. That way you fit together and make something new." Marceline plucks two strings. They sing. "Harmony."
She floats even higher, winding her way around the tree, strumming out a disparate melody. Bubblegum is sitting now, her hand digging into the grass and her feet out in front of her. She pushes up her glasses and takes another huge bite of the apple. "He's candy, Marceline. He's just sugar and water. He's simple. This is enough for him."
"I just," Marceline tries, "I just don't think it's cool to be with someone that can only mirror back everything you feel. I mean, look at them." They both peer over the edge. Braco's gaping mouth is apparently forming words, speaking to the robot, and P-bot's head nods mechanically in agreement with a vacant smile. A vapid giggle punctuates the entire conversation. "She's brainless, yo."
Bubblegum shuffles. She looks defensive. "Well, Marceline the Vampire Queen, I didn't know you cared so much about Braco, a person you didn't realize existed until tonight. And whom, let me remind you, you just called a lumpy banana peel monster. You are just so caring." She's catty and it almost takes Marceline by surprise but she's used to the princess's hardhead and knows she can take a lot more than her appearance would suggest so she digs deeper.
"You're candy," Marceline counters, her words like knives, "You're sugar and water. Would that be enough for you?" She swings her arm and lets loose a heavy power chord that ripples through the night air, hoping it hits Bubblegum right in that stubborn brain of hers.
It turns out it hits her somewhere else.
Bubblegum looks down and crosses her arms across her chest but it's not an aggressive act, she almost looks broken. Marceline can hear something deep down bubbling, something private in her tone. "I… it's different for me…you know that," she manages, trying to explain, "I don't get to think about things like that for myself," the look she gives Marceline takes the air from her lungs, "Things like love."
She's seen Bubblegum in royal processions, strong and stoic; in laboratories, focused and inspired; in sweatshirts, carefree and loose; but she's never once seen her like this. Like, she can't even describe it, wistful? Lonely? It's foreign in a way that makes Marceline grind her teeth and turn her head away. It makes her feel rotten inside.
"Oh," she sinks slowly and sits beside her, "Because of your responsibilities to your kingdom and junk?"
Bubblegum doesn't respond, just looks out over the ridge, watching as Braco and P-bot start to pack up and head off. The princess sighs and Marceline realizes how heavy her shoulders look, how much weight she carries. How strong she must be.
Marceline finally gets it, she really does, and it makes her feel like a total butt.
"You know," she retracts, "Maybe I was a little harsh. What Braco has… it's nice. It's nicer than most people get." She nudges Bubblegum's shoulder. "And it was nice of you to give that to him. Really. You take good care of everyone, which is way more than I can say for myself."
Bubblegum only chews her lip until she finally looks up at Marceline, eyes large and searching and just so dang sad. Marceline notices caramel stuck to the corner of her mouth and she thinks of P-bot and Braco and chocolate strawberries and laughter and pink and then something flares up inside of her, red hot and aching, and oh glob oh no oh no oh no oh no and, before she can stop herself, her hand is reaching forward and she's thumbing the caramel from Bubblegum's face.
Double crud.
It feels like an anchor dropping in her stomach, violent waves crashing up her sides . The anchor hits bottom when Bubblegum's eyes go wide and angry(?) shocked(?) nervous(?) and Marceline feels that dizzy thing in her skull knock loose and fall from its shelf, tumbling down into churning seas.
The caramel is sticky on her skin.
Bubblegum goes, "Marceline," but then there's this beeping and whirring sound and both their eyes dart in a panic to the machine beside them as it springs to life, interrupting in the worst way possible. The needle jumps back and forth, mocking. They freeze.
"It - Uh - It," Bubblegum stammers, arm darting out, grabbing the machine, and fiddling frantically with the dial, "It's a little iffy - just a prototype - might not even work," but Marceline's still frozen because she knows, she just knows now and it all makes sense. That particular thing about Bubblegum that gets her undead blood boiling? Yeah, that. It's like the anchor in her stomach catches on a rock and jerks her forward, enough to buckle her knees.
Marceline hovers upright and clears her throat. "It's cool, it's cool," she tries pathetically, "Like you said, the machine is whack." They both look to Braco and P-bot but they're already far away enough that the implication is there, sticky between them.
Bubblegum looks just as embarrassed as she does which doesn't make sense but Marceline's already pulling up her hood again, tucking her hair down the back. She's sure she's blushing violently so she turns away and clenches her jaw. "Our, uh, subjects are taking off and I was supposed to meet Finn and Jake awhile ago so.."
"Yeah, yeah," Bubblegum agrees, waving her off. "Cool. Yeah. Awesome." She manages a thumbs up but the awkward strain in her smile twists a knife in Marceline's chest. "Thanks for… the research help."
"Yeah, any time," and at this point she's not even sure what she's saying anymore or where she is or how they got there. All she thinks is get it together so she shoves her hands into her pockets before they can do anything else without her permission. "I, um, I'll see you later?" she asks but then she's already leaving, flying off before Bubblegum can respond, trying desperately not to look back as she makes her way once again to the distant treehouse.
--
They jam for a few hours, Finn sweaty and red from the effort, Jake in a trance with the music. The monstrosity they'd built takes up almost the entire living room and when she plugs in her bass the sound sets off a chain reaction and the entire room bursts into a cacophony of sound that manages to drown out the blazing red heat in her chest so they laugh and sing and the anchor feels a little bit lighter, like she can swim again.
Luckily Finn and Jake don't question her lyrics and they sing along, a little off-key, a little off rhythm. The dissonance fills her head and her voice lilts then cracks as she sings about moonlight and harmony and caramel, sticky and so so sweet.