This is just a little something I'm working on in-between chapters of the Heir. I hope you guys enjoy it! :)

"C'mon Ash, slow down man! You're gonna' kill us both!" Marceline cried from the passenger's seat, bracing herself on the dashboard with both hands spread, her black boots digging harshly into the dirty, stained carpeting on the floor of the car. The man driving, his eyes wild with laughter and his white mohawk sticking straight up in defiance of the wind whipping wildly through his open window, gave Marceline a half crazed grin as he pressed his foot down on the throttle even further.

The sirens were blaring behind their car, flashes of red and blue illuminating the inside of the vehicle and painting their expressions in a wash of colour. Marceline whimpered softly and turned in her seat, watching as the roaring Police cars kept up the pace with them, the snarl of black bumper bars nipping at their heels.

She knew it had been a terrible idea from the very beginning. What was she thinking anyway, agreeing to this? Robbing a pawn store for a few wads of cash all because of her boyfriend's incessant need to feed his heroin addiction?

"Ash, seriously! Fuck man, do you seriously think we can outrun the cops?!" Marcy turned to him, demanding behind desperate and frustrated eyes. As he looked back at her, there almost seemed to be a shred of sanity break through behind those brown eyes, and she could only hold on with hope that he would at least slow down for safety sake.

His eyes snapped to the road again, sneering suddenly at the sight of a large chain link fence in the distance that led into an industrial compound of some kind of factory. Marceline flicked her gaze between him and the compound, shaking her head in disbelief. He really thought they could get away.

The car veered suddenly to the right, sliding into a dusty red ditch, sprinkling the vehicle with a shower of dirt and rocks. Marceline closed her eyes and braced herself against the jolting motions that rocked them, her ears listening to the sound of Police sirens to the left and just behind them.

She opened her eyes to the sound of shuffling, watching as Ash reached into the back seat and grabbed the black duffel bag, not sparing his girlfriend a look as he pushed down the door handle and spilled out of the car.

"Ash... wait!" Marceline cried out, coughing over the dust filling the vehicle and stinging her eyes and chest. Unclipping her seatbelt, she clambered clumsily through the driver's side and fell out onto the ground, lifting her face just in time to see her boyfriend disappearing into the distance and scrambling underneath a gap in the chain link fence.

"Ash!" Marceline yelled out, the burning in her eyes worsening as the sound of heavy footfalls approached her, the snaps and clicks of safety locks on guns being switched off and a booming voice screaming out for her to get on the ground.

"Ash... you fucking idiot..." Marceline whimpered under her breath, resigning herself to defeat as she lay her head down in the ditch and placed her dirt stained hands above her head.

A few moments later, overly rough and calloused hands tugged at her arms, snapping on a pair of icy cold handcuffs and tightening them enough that they rubbed and scraped her skin whenever she tried to move. She was pulled to her feet, stumbling and coughing as two officers shoved her towards a patrol car.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney..." a gruff voice begun, but she instantly tuned out, laughing at herself and her own predicament as more hands pat down her body and checked her for weapons.

Once the officers were happy she was unarmed, she was thrown into the back of a patrol car. Her eyes were stinging with dust and moist tears that had started to seep out, and the hard plastic seats were unrelenting in pressing the handcuffs further into her arms. She could hear officers talking outside the car and over their radios that they were still looking for the second suspect, but that he hadn't yet been apprehended.

Marceline hunched over, letting her dark hair fall over her face to cover the commotion of feelings ravaging her body right now. Her hatred for Ash, how he had abandoned her, how she just wanted them to catch that bastard. How she hated him for practically destroying her life, causing a rift between her and her father, and all of her friends.

The car wobbled and sunk as two officers got into the front seats and slammed their doors behind them, starting its engine and pulling away from the curb. She drowned out their voices as one of them turned to speak to her.

"You've got yourself in some big trouble there, girly. Gonna' be put away for a long time."

She was taken to the nearest Police Station, remaining silent the entire time despite the occasional prodding from one of the officers that were in the car with her, trying to make conversation, figure out her motives. She ignored all of it.

Dragged into the station, they took her prints, took her to get her mug-shot taken, then took her into a room and told her to stay put until the investigator came in. She sat there, relieved of her cuffs temporarily, rubbing at the red welts left behind on her wrists and cursing at the uncomfortable plastic chair she was sitting in.

There was a snap and a click as the door opened. A short, portly woman wearing a green, button up blouse and black slacks entered. The woman had shoulder length blonde hair, faded in some spots, and dark red lipstick that did nothing to detract attention from the crows-feet wrinkles in the corner of her eyes.

Sitting down adjacent to Marceline, she pulled out a folder, a pen, and a digital voice recorder. Pressing record, she flipped open her folder and read through some pages before peering up at Marcy. The blonde woman smiled a little too sweetly, for someone who was obviously here for nothing more than to extract exactly what had happened.

"I'm sorry, how rude of me, I'm Tina Trunks, investigator. And you must be Miss Marceline Abadeer, correct?" Tina asked, her voice low with a thick, southern drawl. Marceline perked up a little, still nervous as she gave a small nod.

"Now then, I'll try and make this as painless as I can sweetness, so the more you co-operate with us the easier it will be for both parties, okay?" she asked, watching as Marceline relaxed in her seat a little before nodding again.

"Okay then, let's begin shall we? And remember, if you don't want to talk about anything without the presence of a lawyer, you don't have to," Tina continued, clicking the button at the end of her pen to expose the ballpoint tip.

"I don't want a lawyer, I just want you to catch Ash," Marceline blurted suddenly, taking Tina by surprise as she raised her eyebrows. She looked down at her papers and scribbled some words quickly.

"Is Ash your accomplice?" Tina asked, not looking up. Marceline scowled a little, biting her lower lip.

"No, I mean... yes... I mean... ugh, I was just trying to help him get money for his drug habit okay? It was stupid of me, I know that, I don't even know what I was thinking!" Marceline replied quickly, becoming emotional and pressing her forearms against the small desk, burying her head between them.

"Now now, don't fret. Just tell me exactly what happened, it might help you get your sentence reduced to as little as several years," Tina spoke kindly, but despite that, the words 'several years' made Marceline groan heavily and a huge knot tie itself up in her stomach.

"Fine," she grumbled back, slowly lifting her head to be met with an overly caring face looking back at her. Marceline blushed lightly, crossing her arms firmly over her chest as she kicked back in her chair.

Despite doing her best to explain every detail of the story, Marceline still couldn't help but dread the fact that no matter what, she was going to be locked up. Things were not looking so good any more.

After an exhausting hour of explaining everything as best she could, Marceline was ready to just get out of there. Tina had apologised to her for the situation she had landed herself in, and although Marceline had thanked her for her concern, she knew in the back of her mind it was all her own fault and no one should be apologising to her in any way, shape or form.

She had been handcuffed again and taken back out to the patrol car, told that she was to be transported to the medium security prison at Furbanks. Until the time of her hearing in several weeks time to determine her full sentence, she was to be kept there unless a family member or friend was able to come out of the woodworks with the $50,000 bail that had been set for her.

It was laughable really. Marceline's mother had died many years ago from, ironically enough, drug addiction. Her father was a business man who was always travelling abroad and rarely had time for her. When he did, they spent the whole time arguing about Marceline's life, her friends, and especially about Ash. Marceline was fuming on the inside. Turns out her father had been right about him all along, if only she hadn't been too stubborn to listen.

After travelling for approximately 45 minutes, the car finally pulled up at the gates of the prison. The Cop in the front seat showed his ID to the gate guard, nodding his head as the guard buzzed him in, the tall metal fences creaking and scraping open. The car drove around to the left through the complex, arriving at a parking lot that led up to what she assumed was the front office.

The police pulled her out of the car, leading the submissive woman inside. There she had mostly zoned out as they took any of her belongings and put them away in a small lock box, though the only thing she had on her was her wallet, a necklace with a small gem in it that her father had given to her for her 16th birthday, and a packet of smokes and a zippo lighter.

She went behind a blue, standing curtain where she was instructed to strip out of her clothes and put on the prison uniform they had handed to her. Despite the look of disgust she gave the bright orange outfit, she hadn't wanted to cause a hullabaloo by stating said fact.

Grunting a little as she pulled the long sleeved, orange shirt on, she realised she had scrapes on her elbows from earlier landing in the ditch. They stung a little against the starchy fabric, but she ignored it and the sudden urge she had to cry, buttoning up the shirt before stepping out into the room where a guard was waiting to escort her through.

The guard opened a side door and begun escorting her through a maze of corridors and electronically sealed gates. They were walking for what seemed like ages before the guard finally buzzed her through one large gate, motioning for her to go through. She did so, and looked around her in amazement. It was a huge corridor, wide enough to be able to fit several people laying down lengthways across it. Both sides were lined with rooms that had thick steel-bar gates. She could see that all the gates were open, and as she walked through, some of the rooms had one or more inmates hanging around in them.

Some of the prisoners stared back at her, while on the second floor above them she heard a variety of wolf-whistles and crude comments being called out to her from over enthusiastic women of all shapes and sizes. Biting her lip uncomfortably, she fixed her eyes on the end of the corridor where another guard was approaching them.

This guard was about the same height as Marceline. She had long, strawberry blonde hair that was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and piercing, icy blue eyes. She was wearing the beige guard uniform, the slacks hugging her slender thighs, and the blouse pressing tightly against her breasts before it plunged down where it was tucked neatly into her belt.

Marceline locked eyes with the guard, swallowing a little as they walked towards each other. A press in her back reminded her that her escort had no patience, and she sped up her pace a little. As Marceline and the strawberry blonde walked past each other, there was a moment where the raven-haired inmate threw an awkward sideways grin to her, looking away quickly before she noticed the bright red blush overtaking the blonde's cheeks as she stumbled slightly in her step.

A faint flutter in her chest took Marcy by surprise. Weird, I've never felt that before...

The guard continued to escort her down a corridor to the left until they came to an open and empty cell.

"Get in and turn around," they instructed, waiting as Marceline complied. She stood in the doorway with her back to them, letting out a little sigh of relief as the guard stepped closer to her and unlocked the handcuffs on her wrists, setting her free.

Marceline turned back around, rubbing her sore arms and giving a small smile of thanks to the burly woman, who simply gave her a gruff nod in reply.

"Breakfast is at eight, lunch at one, and dinner at seven. You'll hear the bell when it's time," the woman stated sternly, before eyeing up Marceline once then turning to leave back to her post.

Marceline lowered her eyes, turning around to view her surroundings. The cell wasn't very big. There was a single bed on each side, a small television set, a toilet and basin in one corner and a wall cabinet beside it. There was also two narrow lockers at the foot of each bed that was attached to the wall. She wasn't sure, but she assumed by the photos that were pinned above the bed on the left that she would be sharing her cell with another person.

Giving another loud sigh, she went towards the single bed on the right, collapsing face first onto it and groaning into the thin pillow. This sucked. This more than sucked. This was the suckiest thing to ever suck since that time Marceline got her head stuck in the mailbox at her dad's house.

"Whoa! Hey, new girl! Alright I finally got a roomie!" an excited voice from the doorway broke Marceline out of her self pity, and she managed to find the fucks she gave in order to turn her head and see a shorter girl with a mane of golden blonde hair come rushing into the room and plonk down on the other single bed.

"Who are you?" Marceline mumbled, more than displeased in being disturbed when all she wanted to do was lay there in silence and never come out. The blonde girl raised and eyebrow, watching her carefully before a grin broke out across her face.

"I'm Fionna!" she proclaimed loudly, bouncing slightly on the bed as she watched Marceline excitedly. Marcy sighed quietly, unable to hide a simmering smile as it finally crossed her face. Pushing up off the mattress, she scooted to the edge of the bed and leant towards the girl, extending her hand. Fionna eyed it off for a few moments before taking it and shaking it enthusiastically.

"I'm Marceline." she replied, watching as the blonde girl screwed up her face a little and repeated the name quietly to herself.

"Marceline huh? Radical!" Fionna finally proclaimed, flopping back onto her bed with her arms behind her head, propping it up. "So what are you in here for?"

Marceline looked away a little, playing with the top sheet on her bed before letting out a long sigh, deciding it was better to try and at least make one friend while she was in here. Who knows, it might actually make doing time seem less drawn out and tedious.

"I was dating this dumb guy, he was a real jerk, y'know? He had this drug addiction, and we were always broke, so I let him convince me it would be a good idea to do a robbery," Marceline tilted her head to the side a little, smiling at her own foolishness and watching the blonde girl's reaction. Those two, shiny blue eyes lit up, before the girl sat straight up and punched a fist into her other hand.

"Damn men, they're such jerks! Jerks!" she proclaimed loudly, causing Marceline to raise an eyebrow and emit a low chuckle in amusement. This girl certainly was entertaining.

"Yeah, I'm definitely going to keep my distance from them in the future. So anyway, what about you? You're in here too," Marceline replied, shifting her hands into her lap and twiddling with her fingers. Fionna rolled her eyes and let out a low groan.

"I beat up some guys in my neighbourhood."

"Why am I not surprised?" Marceline laughed musically, watching as Fionna jumped up from the bed and threw her arms up in the air.

"They deserved it! Those jerk-wads kept kicking in my fence, treading on my rose bushes, and they were scaring my brother's dog!" Fionna continued, waving her arms around emphatically for effect. Marceline snickered a little, watching the range of expressions cross Fionna's face.

"You must have beat 'em up pretty good then," Marceline replied, scratching at her chest where the orange shirt was itching against her soft skin. Fionna shrugged and wandered over to her bedside table, letting her fingertips dance across the surface of the white plastic.

"Broke one of their jaws, gave another guy a concussion, and I think I broke a couple of the third guy's ribs or something."

Marceline laughed quietly and shook her head, her black hair flicking about her face as she did.

"Remind me to never piss you off then," she mumbled, a crooked smile crossing her lips as she met Fionna's eyes with her own, noticing the small blush that crept onto the girl's cheeks.

"I don't beat up nice peeps," Fionna shrugged, shuffling a little in place and dropping her gaze to the ground. Now it was Marcy's turn to blush, turning her gaze away quickly as she did.

There was a comfortable silence for a minute, the two girls just enjoying the company of another human being that wasn't going to shake them down or say crude things to them about the way their hips wiggled when they walked, or how they'd like a piece of 'that ass'.

"So uh, dinner time is soon," Fionna begun, breaking the silence with a slight roll of her head as she pursed her lips together. Marceline looked up. "I should probably show you around, take you down to the cafeteria and junk so you don't get lost."

Marceline nodded and stood up, readjusting her shirt where it had twisted around her torso and smoothing it down her chest.

"Thanks man, I'd appreciate it," Marcy replied with a friendly smile, following Fionna out of the room as she motioned with her hand for Marcy to accompany her.

"Yeah, no biggie. Just stick with me, you really don't want to mess with some of the girls in the dining hall, they can be a little... uh... unwelcoming to new peeps," Fionna replied, looking thoughtful for a moment as she bit her lower lip. Marceline nodded her understanding, making sure she stuck close to her cell mate as she was led through the hallways to their destination.

Fionna had shown Marceline the way to the dining hall, and had given her a quick tour of where everyone sat just in time for the dinner bell to ring. The place soon crowded with groups of women in their bright orange uniforms, tall women, short women, strong, skinny and chubby women alike. They all pushed past Fionna and Marceline carelessly, some throwing glares and sneers to the two women.

Fionna glared back at all of them, going and grabbing two food trays and handing one to Marceline, who nodded her thanks and followed her blonde friend into the line up. Several times Fionna had to scold or yell at women who pushed in in front of them, but it did little good. You could only take a cute little blonde so seriously before you just broke out in laughter at those chubby cheeks and pouting lips.

They finally reached the offerings of food, grabbing scoops and tongs to take a variety of things that appealed to them. Marceline grabbed a scoop of ominous looking lasagne, some fries, and a pile of fruit salad. Taking a knife and fork and a can of soda each, Marceline followed Fionna as she led the way over to her table.

There were some girls on one side that were talking amongst themselves and eyeing off Marceline thoroughly, before turning away and back to whatever they were gossiping about. Marcy bit her lower lip as Fionna waved to an African American girl who was sitting on the far end of the table that was almost completely empty.

Fionna wrapped her arms around the dark-skinned girl, nuzzling her cheek into her expertly weaved shining locks of black hair, giggling a little as the woman mumbled under her breath before pushing the blonde off her with an awkward smile. Fionna seated herself beside the girl, turning to look up at Marceline with a grin before pulling the spare chair out on her other side for the pale girl to sit.

Marcy took it, plonking down and placing her tray of food before her, shuffling the chair forwards and taking her cutlery to begin tucking in. She felt a nudge in her side and looked sideways at the blonde who was trying to get her attention.

"This is Cake, Cake, this is Marceline. She's new here, and guess what? She's my cell mate too! How awesome is that?" Fionna spoke excitedly, looking between the two girls who eyed each other up momentarily.

Cake was the first to break the gaze with a small chuckle, reaching her hand out and waiting as Marceline followed suit, reaching her own out to shake it.

"It's Cate, actually. This one misheard me when I first told her my name, and the nickname just kind of stuck, I guess," Cate explained, narrowing her eyes as she peered at Fionna, who just rolled her eyes in reply.

"Shut up, it's not like you don't like being called that anyway," Fionna replied, poking her tongue out at the other girl. Cate raised an eyebrow, stabbing her fork into a piece of potato and lifting it to her mouth.

"Don't be pokin' that tongue out unless you plan on usin' it later," Cate warned, shoving the potato into her mouth and grinning satisfactorily as Fionna turned bright red, looking down and letting her locks of blonde hair hide her face.

"Oh, are you two..." Marceline begun, her eyes widening as she moved her gaze between the two. Cate laughed, stabbing another potato and a bit of pumpkin onto her fork.

"Oh yeah, you know it. Man this girl couldn't take her eyes off me from the first moment she got in here," Cate chuckled, leaning over and pressing a small kiss to Fionna's shoulder. The blonde girl laughed shyly in reply, shrugging her shoulders as she leant down and started eating her dinner.

"Shut up Cake, like you can talk, you didn't even take me out on a date first. It was all 'take your pants off Fionna', and 'get down on your knees Fionna'. Yeah, real romantic," Fionna replied, doing her best to imitate her girlfriend who was simply watching with raised eyebrows, her fork poised to deliver food to her mouth.

"We're in prison babe, dates and romance? 'Aint nobody got time for that," Cate replied simply, shoving the food into her mouth and chewing.

Marceline was chuckling thoroughly at the interactions between the two. Hell, if she had to spend several years in here with these girls, it sure didn't sound like as frightening of a prospect any more.

"Oh, fries for me? You shouldn't have!" A loud, husky voice came from Marceline's left side, and she turned just in time to see a tall, muscular girl with dark brown hair and brown eyes reach down and grab nearly all of her fries with a large hand, taking them and plopping them onto her own food tray with a laugh.

Marceline growled and went to get out of her chair, but she felt a tug at her shirt sleeve. Snapping her eyes around she saw Fionna grasping her shirt and pleading with her large, blue eyes.

"Marce, don't. You really don't want to fuck with her, seriously!" Fionna told her quickly, her grip tightening. Cate was also throwing a warning glance her way, but Marceline was beyond giving in to bullying.

With a frown, she pulled her shirt from the blonde's grip, pushing herself out of the chair quickly and going after the girl who now had her back turned to her. Marceline tapped on her shoulder, waiting as the girl turned around, her grinning face soon turning to an unpleased frown as she saw the raven-haired woman standing there with her arms crossed.

"Give them back," Marceline demanded flatly, watching as the brown haired girl stared at her for a few moments. Finally, the girl broke out into a laugh.

"Yeah right, what are you going to do about it?" the girl threatened, reaching out a hand and shoving harshly at Marceline's right shoulder, making her lose her balance a little.

She's not quite sure how it happened, but something inside of her snapped right then. An anger that had been welling up since Ash abandoned her, an anger that had been simmering for years as her life turned her into a walking door mat. She's not sure who threw the first blow, but now she was there, on the floor on her back with this muscular woman on top of her, beating the absolute snot out of her.

Just another stupid decision she made. Once again, she should have just listened when someone warned her not to do something, and once again, she didn't listen and now she was in this mess. A fist connected with her face several times, causing stars to appear in front of her eyes and everything to get blurry. She reached her arms out in front of her, trying to shove the girl away, but she was far too strong.

There was a sudden moment of numbness as she felt a twinge in her arm, the pain not really registering at first, but after several seconds the sensation of warm liquid trickling down her arm and soaking her shirt alerted her to something quite alarming.

Apparently, concealed weapons were one of the reasons Fionna had warned her against causing trouble with this girl.

Fortunately for Marceline, several guards had rushed over, two of them struggling just to get the girl off of Marcy, while Fionna and Cate came to the raven-haired girl's side and were asking her if she was okay. Marcy tried to sit up, but it hurt too much to use her left arm right now, causing her to hiss and pull the arm tightly against her chest and apply pressure to the bloodied area with her right hand.

"Everyone get back! Sully, you and June take Anne to solitary confinement. I'll take this one down to medical and get her seen to," a sweet, but demanding voice filled Marceline's ears, and she tilted her head to her right to peer up at the guard that was now leaning over her and doing a quick check of her wounds. She felt her stomach drop as she met the woman's gaze.

"You're going to be alright. Here, get your right arm around my shoulder... like that, there you go. Okay, Fionna help me get her up would you?" the strawberry blonde commanded, all the while the stern features on her face did nothing to hide the tenderness behind those icy blue eyes and those plump, pink lips that twitched into what almost looked like a smile as she returned Marceline's gaze.

Fionna and Cate both assisted the guard in getting Marcy up onto her feet, and once she was there, Marceline found that most of the initial dizziness she had felt from the punches was subsiding, but there was still an aching throb in the left side of her face and head.

"Dude, what did I tell you? Ugh, you're lucky she didn't stab you in the neck or something!" Fionna scolded her, frowning as she looked through the slash in Marceline's orange shirt where a gash a centimetre or two deep was oozing a steady stream of blood down her arm.

"Fionna, it's fine, I'm fine," Marceline replied, her arm still draped around the guard's shoulder. She realised this, suddenly feeling awkward at the contact and pulling said arm away from the woman.

"Can you walk?" the guard asked quickly, raising an eyebrow a little. Marceline met her gaze, before turning her head away to hide a light blush that was creeping up her neck.

"Yeah, yeah I can."

"Good, follow me please," the guard replied, taking off quickly. Marceline fell into step, staying close behind her. She ignored the eyes that were staring at her as she left the cafeteria, as if they were in shock that she would dare defy that girl on her very first day here.

As they turned a corner, the guard beeped a card through a slot next to a steel door, which clicked and opened to reveal a long, white hallway with speckled grey linoleum on the floor. The guard held out a hand and motioned for Marceline to go in before her. She did so, keeping her head low as the door clunked shut behind her, the rhythm of her escort's shoes keeping time behind her own.

"What's your name?" the guard asked quickly, taking a few quick strides until she was beside Marceline. Marcy bit her lower lip and clung to her wounded arm a little too tightly, ignoring the stinging pain that shot up her shoulder from the motion.

"Marceline. Marceline Abadeer."

The guard nodded, looking at her and smiling softly. Marceline returned the smile as best she could, but movement of her face caused her to wince as the throbbing worsened.

"I'm Bonnibel. And you're lucky you got off as easy as you did with Anne, most inmates end up in hospital after getting into fights with her," Bonnibel replied, giving an awkward smile as they reached the end of the hallway. Marceline looked away, clearing her throat before she found her voice again.

"Yeah, well, I'm sick of being pushed around."

Bonnibel gave her an understanding nod, coming to a stop outside a white door that had a piece of lined paper tacked to its sign. On the paper, written in clumsy pen was "Gone to pick up supplies. Back in 30 minutes."

"Shoot, the nurse is out," Bonnibel cursed quietly, biting her lower lip and giving Marceline a sideways glance before suddenly reaching for her belt and un-clipping a large wad of keys that hung there. Shuffling through the set of keys, she eventually found the one she was looking for, pushing it into the lock and turning it. Pressing down the handle and opening the door, she pushed a hand into Marceline's back, shoving her lightly into the room.

"I'll just have to patch you up myself," Bonnibel stated rather simply, following Marcy in and shutting the door behind her. Bonnibel went over to the cabinets and started taking out supplies. Wrapped packages of gauze and alcohol wipes, antibacterial, a syringe and needle, and a few other things that Marceline couldn't quite see what they were.

"Shirt off, lay on the bed please," Bonnibel demanded quickly, taking her supplies and spreading them out on a sterile cloth that lined a rolling table. Marceline's mouth fell open as she tried to form words, watching as the guard brought a rolling chair over with the table of supplies. Bonnibel saw her hesitation and let out a low sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose with an index finger and thumb.

"Look, I went to medical school before I took this job, alright? I know what I'm doing, now please, get on the bed. Unless of course, you're trying to get yourself killed via infection of a wound. If that is your intention, then by all means, don't let me stop you," Bonnibel replied nonchalantly, a tinge of sarcasm in her voice as she crossed her arms over her chest and peered at Marceline.

Marcy mumbled under her breath a little, sitting on the edge of the bed and lowering her head as she reached with her right hand to unbutton her shirt. It was difficult, to say the least, and after struggling one handed just to get the top two buttons undone, a loud sigh echoed through the room before Bonnibel stepped forwards.

"Here, let me," she spoke softly, sitting on the chair and rolling over to the side of the bed. She shoved Marceline's hand out of the way and begun dutifully relieving the buttons from their holes. Marcy blushed and looked away, anywhere but her.

The last button came undone, Bonni carefully reaching up and pushing the shirt over toned shoulders and grabbing each sleeve to pull the garment away from Marcy's body. The raven-haired woman inhaled a sharp breath, before mumbling her thanks as she lay on her back on the bed, while Bonnibel threw the shirt into a large waste bin by the foot of the bed.

Bonni begun by soaking some gauze in antiseptic, wiping down the area and pressing it into the depths of the wound, causing Marceline to hiss in pain.

"Sorry," Bonnibel muttered, finishing her cleaning as the inmate clenched her eyes shut and tried to ignore the burning the brown liquid was causing.

Bonni reached over to the table, unwrapping a new syringe and needle and clipping the needle firmly onto its tip. She grabbed a little glass bottle and turned it on an angle, plunging the needle in through its top and withdrawing some of the clear liquid. After she had extracted enough, she pushed the plunger in to make sure no air bubbles were left in the syringe.

As she brought the needle to the wound, Marceline eyed it off quickly, her pupils widening as the sharp object drew nearer to her. Bonnibel paused, watching her reaction.

"I need to numb the area, you need stitches. Don't tell me you're afraid of a little needle after having the daylights nearly kicked out of you?" Bonnibel teased lightly, raising an eyebrow. She gave a small smile as Marcy pouted in response, lowering her head back onto the pillow and trying to relax.

"Good," Bonnibel said quietly, and before Marcy could change her mind, she had already stuck the needle into the outer areas of the wound in several places. After she finished with that, she prepared the needle and sutures for stitching up Marceline while waiting for the wound to become numb enough to do her work.

Marceline watched her, noticing the way loose strands of her strawberry blonde hair would sometimes fall over her eyes, and how she reached up with small hands to tuck it gingerly behind little ears. Sometimes, Bonnibel would look at her with those shining eyes, giving her a warm smile, causing Marceline to look away and blush a rosey pink for staring in the first place.

"Alright, now just relax," Bonnibel said quietly, pressing her left arm firmly against the wounded arm while gingerly approaching the wound with needle and suture in her right hand. Marceline closed her eyes, whimpering quietly as a slight sting and some pressure was felt as the needle went through skin. She didn't want to be seen as a wuss, so she did her very best to be strong, ignore any pain she felt, letting the guard do her job.

Deciding on a way to distract herself from the plunging of the needle through skin and flesh, Marceline turned her head to face Bonnibel, watching as she worked meticulously.

"So you said you went to medical school huh? So... why are you here and not doing open heart surgery somewhere?" Marceline quizzed, daring to take a peek down and watch a thread being pulled taut to close a segment of skin. Bonnibel bit her lip, without looking up.

"Well, my parents were killed when I was 21 when they were caught in the crossfire of a gang territory war. After that, I decided I wanted to be a part of the Criminal Justice field. Ended up landing this job through a friend that recommended it. The training was easy, the pay is good, and helping get criminals back on the right track is fulfilling in its own way," she replied, tying a knot in the suture before moving on to the next bit. She spared a glance up at Marceline, her eyes shining under the fluorescent lighting.

"I'm sorry about your parents," Marcy said quietly, lowering her eyelids a little and giving a sympathetic smile. Bonnibel shrugged it off.

"It's fine, several years have passed, and I'm happy with my life now more than ever," Bonni returned the smile, plunging the needle in again and drawing it through. "What about you, how did you land yourself here?"

Marceline looked away, closing her eyes momentarily. She'd already been through this several times today with other people, she was beginning to feel like a broken record. She shrugged the shoulder that wasn't being worked on.

"Stupid boyfriend, his drug habit, robbery. Let's just say, he's not my boyfriend any more."

Bonnibel laughed at that. It was a sweet, melodic laugh, and it sent a warm flutter through Marceline's gut, a sensation she was most certainly unfamiliar with. She couldn't help but chuckle in return.

"Don't feel bad, I've done stupid things before too. My ex-girlfriend once made me do shots of absinthe on a dare. I swear to God I wanted to die that night."

Marceline swept her gaze to Bonnibel, raising an eyebrow in intrigue. She flickered her tongue inside of her mouth a little, grazing her front teeth.

"You uh... had a girlfriend?" Marceline quizzed, watching as another knot was tied. Bonnibel peered up, a cheeky smile on her lips.

"Is that a problem?"

Marceline blushed, suddenly overwhelmed with embarrassment by her inability to control her mouth.

"N-no, not at all it's just... well I... I didn't think you looked to be the lesbian type, being all feminine and YOWCH!" the needle dug in a little too deep, pricking an area of flesh that had not been as effectively numbed. Marceline threw a glare at the guard, who was only staring back at her with an indecipherable gaze.

"And I didn't think you would be the straight type, considering how much of a tomboy you appear to be," Bonnibel bit back, sparing a glance at Marceline's small set of breasts that were covered by a pathetic crop top, then running down to her narrow hips. Marcy blushed even further, her face almost matching the colour of a radish at this point.

"I'm not straight. I just... I dunno, I thought he and I had something special. Guess I was wrong," Marceline drifted off into thought, nuzzling her face into the pillow while waiting for her red cheeks to cool. The hands on her arm drifted across her skin, delivering a tender stroke that raised goosebumps on her flesh.

Another suture was drawn through and knotted. Fingers circled the surrounding areas, easing some of the discomfort Marcy was beginning to feel as the anaesthetic started to wear off.

"Look at it this way. At least now, you can move on with your life. Do the time, make up for your mistakes. Also, now you're smarter and wiser when it comes to relationships. You know what to look out for, and you can open the doors to all kinds of possibilities," Bonnibel was now tying up the last suture, her mouth turned up in the corner as she concentrated. It looked cute on her, Marceline managed to admit to herself.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"There, all stitched up. You can sit up now, just let me get some gauze and I'll bandage it up for you," Bonnibel snipped off the end of the last stitch, putting away her needle and thread, before rummaging around on the table for the gauze pads and medical tape.

"Thanks for that, Bonni." Marceline sat up straight, pushing onto the edge of the bed, trying not to put too much strain on her arm.

Bonnibel flinched, the hairs on the nape of her neck standing up at the shortening of her name. No one ever called her Bonni, not since her parents...

With a small shiver, Bonnibel grabbed a gauze and ripped the packet open, retrieving the pad and the roll of medical tape. She turned back to Marceline, giving her a kind smile before gingerly taking her hand and pulling the arm a little closer to her. Marcy couldn't help but tremble mildly at the touch. With great care, Bonnibel pressed the pad over the stitched wound before securing it with tape, sealing up all the sides and wrapping some tape all the way around for extra security. When it was done, she turned away to replace the tape back on the table, grabbing one last thing.

Marceline eyed her carefully as the guard pulled a wet-wipe out of a cannister and lifted it to her face. Bonni gave her smirk, rubbing the wet fabric against a pale cheek.

"You've got some blood stains on your face and under your nose. While you probably adore the rugged look, I'm sure you'd appreciate getting it cleaned off," Bonnibel said cheekily, laughing a little as Marceline huffed quietly, pressing her head forwards and allowing the woman to clean up her face.

After a little scrubbing and wiping from a combination of both gentle and rough hands, the blood was finally all gone. The last was removed from above Marcy's mouth, and she couldn't help but inhale a quick breath as Bonnibel let her thumb gently trail over a thin, upper lip. Bonnibel disposed of the soiled wipe, admiring quickly the good job she'd done of cleaning up the inmate, before her eyes widened suddenly at the realisation Marceline was almost completely bare on her upper body.

"Oh, hold on. I think we have some spare shirts in the other room. Stay here," she said quickly, turning and rushing out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Marceline took this moment to process everything that had happened so far. She had gotten herself in one hell of a predicament to begin with. In jail, getting beaten up, being tended to by an overly flirtatious guard who may or may not have been making a move on her, but she sure as hell wasn't about to ask and to be completely honest, she was still reeling from Ash anyway, so who the heck was she to be having funny feelings and some kind of school girl crush on this chick anyway?

The door opened and the object of her thoughts returned, donning a neatly folded orange shirt. Bonnibel handed it to her, proceeding to clean up and put things away while Marceline dressed herself. While she was mostly successful, she once again had problems with buttoning it up.

"Fuck," Marceline mumbled, frowning and grasping for her left arm as she tried too vigorously to use it. Bonnibel finished putting everything away, coming back over to the bed and bending down.

With gentle fingers and not a single word, she did up all the buttons on the shirt for Marceline. She let her hands linger a little too long at the top button, letting her finger tips smooth over the collar and delicately trace the soft skin of Marceline's pale neck.

Marceline blushed and pushed up off the bed suddenly, standing up in front of Bonnibel, their faces only a few centimetres apart. The raven-haired woman sucked in a quick breath before tucking a strand of her hair behind an ear and moving past Bonnibel.

"So can I go now? I'm pretty hungry, didn't get to eat and all that. You know how it is..." Marceline shrugged, moving towards the door and throwing a glance back to Bonnibel, who was wearing an almost stunned face. The guard quickly nodded, following her over and opening the door.

"Come see me after lunch for the next few days, I'll bring you down here and the nurse can check how you're healing up and change your bandages for you. I'll... I'll get someone to bring you dinner in your cell," Bonnibel begun, motioning for Marceline to follow her back down the hallway where they had first came from.

Marceline nodded, and they walked in relative silence, other than the sound of footsteps echoing against the walls as their boots clapped against the linoleum. They reached the steel door, which Bonnibel opened quickly with a swipe of her card, leading Marceline through. There was a moment of awkwardness as they stood there, side by side, glancing at each other through sidelong glances.

"I should get back to my cell, I guess," Marceline said quickly with a crooked smile, watching as Bonnibel smiled back at her and nodded her agreement.

"Yes, I'll have someone prepare a fresh meal for you and bring it in. Just remember to be careful with that arm. If you're left handed, I might recommend perhaps... switching to your right hand... at least until it's healed," Bonnibel told her quickly, raising her eyebrow a little and gauging Marceline's reaction at the insinuation she laced her left handed comment with.

It took her a moment to get it, but when she finally did, Marceline's eyes widened and her mouth parted just a little, her cheeks reddening.

"Oh, oh... no, I'm right handed. So yeah, I think I'll be safe to uh... perform..." Marceline mumbled out the last word, already embarrassed enough with herself and by Bonnibel, and it was only making it worse to see the sparkle in that blonde girl's eyes at her reply.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then," Bonnibel replied cheerfully, taking off to leave Marcy standing there dumbfounded, staring as the blonde woman swayed her hips a little more than usual.

With a heavy sigh and a burning heat now making itself quite at home in her belly, Marcy rubbed at her temple before heading back to her cell.

A guard did indeed deliver a meal for Marceline that night, as she sat in her room with Fionna and Cate, who made it their job to inspect every bump and bruise, including poking at the bandaging on her arm and asking her all kinds of questions about it.

"Did it hurt?"

"What did getting stabbed feel like?"

"Aren't the stitches itchy?"

"I bet it felt super weird."

She replied mostly through yes and no's, with the occasional more thought out answer as she chewed ravenously through her food. They still had a hard time believing that Bonnibel had personally stitched her up.

"I can't believe Princess did that man. Wow, she really does live up to the nickname!" Fionna exclaimed. Marceline threw a questioning look and raised eyebrows to her friend, her mouth full of potato.

"Princess?" she asked, watching the blonde who had her head laid back on Cate's lap, purring as her ebony girlfriend braided her golden locks meticulously.

"Yeah. At least, that's what the inmates call her. Cause y'know, she pretty much runs this place. Well, the other wardens anyway. They practically live off everything she says, but at the same time, she's the nicest one that works here," Fionna replied, closing her eyes and sighing as Cate finished up her hair and pressed a peck to her forehead.

"Mhmm, yeah, you remember that one time Anne and her gang were pissin' on us cos of our relationship, callin' us lesbos and all that?" Cate added, helping her girlfriend up into a sitting position. Fionna rolled her eyes and groaned a little.

"Please, don't remind me," she remarked, nudging Cate softly. Her girlfriend snorted in response, shaking her head before looking back at Marceline.

"She don't like talkin' about it, but those bitches were pretty up in our faces about it. Until Princess stepped in and practically threw the book at them. She even threatened to have 'em shipped off to one of the harder prisons, you know them places where they don't go easy on you if you so much as sneeze wrong. Think those girls shit their pants after that," Cate finished, stretching out her toned body and cracking her fingers.

"Sounds like Princess sure suits her then," Marceline added with a nod, finishing up her meal and placing her plate on her bedside table. She stretched out in her bed, folding her right arm above her head, leaving her stitched arm at her side.

She yawned lightly, only half listening as Cate suggested she get going to let the raven-haired woman get some rest. Marceline closed her eyes and tried, unsuccessfully, to not listen to the sweet goodbye's the two exchanged, as well as the noises of what she assumed was a long, delicious kiss they probably shared each night before the cells were locked.

Marceline shared polite, sleepy conversation that night with Fionna, who she found enjoyed reading a good Dean Koontz book. Fionna had promised to lend some of the ones she had already read to Marceline on a night where she wasn't so worn out already.

When the lights finally went out, and Fionna was fast asleep, her snores echoing loudly around the cell, Marceline found herself opening her eyes to stare out the small window just above and to the left of her bed.

It was strange, how the stars in the night sky always appeared brighter when you were looking out at them from the inside.