Roses for Abadeer

When Adventurers Stray

Finn came down hard upon the earth, flourishing his weapon with skill. His battle cry erupted over the land. The two-headed mushroom monster he'd been fighting split in twain behind his hero's descent, heads dropping with a sick shlop effect in opposite directions of one another.

"Take that BEAST!" He shouted in victory and brandished his sword once more for good measure. He was pretty sure the thing was dead, but you know, in Ooo one frequently needs another helping of EPIC to satisfy the soul.

Metal gleamed spectacularly in the afternoon light. The sun danced along its sharpened blade. Grinning furiously, the man sheathed his prized possession and took out a special jar that Princess Bubblegum had only just given him that morning.

"Oh, wicked awesome. There's enough goop here for, like, seven of these jars!"

Finn collected the life-puss from the Duplefungi carcass and sealed his jar carefully. Weird creatures, Duplefungi. Spores the size of walnuts… "Aw, sick, it's so sticky!"

"Finn, come on man. We have a lot more of this stuff to collect for PB. 'Short list' my fanny," Jake swung down from his vantage point and joined his friend. The bitterness in his voice was palpable. "More like a whole catalogue of crap.

"I mean, seriously, what the heck is some of this stuff anyway? 'Horde Tongue?', 'Yellow-Belled Shrinking Clam Eye?'…oh, oh, and who has even heard of a 'Rat's Lucky Patty'? I know that one's made up.

"Ugh! This is so pointless! You think collecting all this stuff is going to somehow help?"

The dog shook his head with disapproval. Bubblegum sure was off her nut lately. He rolled up the three foot long scroll she had dictated and stuck it in a pocket fabricated from stretchy skin, with the secret hope of being forgotten entirely.

"Jake," Finn reasoned solemnly, "If PB says this will bring Marceline back then this will bring Marceline back. Have a little faith, brother. Now, what's next?"

The two of them had spent the last five hours going up and down the Land of Ooo with all odds and ends to show for it. Finn took down his pack and reverently put the jar next to a stack of Tartarbug Crisps and a wedge of Salamantian Molting. The man sighed, job well done.

"I dunno. I guess we could go after the Hoosa-whatta Butter and Stone Crop Skins next."

Finn frowned as his friend sighed heavily. "What's eating you, buddy? Come on, tell Finn all about it."

"Nothing. It's nothing."

Dejected, Jake kicked a dirt clod over. Mr. and Mrs. Clod objected profusely.

"Oh, sorry."

"Jake, I've noticed you aren't yourself lately. What's up, bro? Share with me."

The dog sighed and sat down on an overturned stump. He shrugged. "I dunno. It just seems like we are on a wild goose chase here. Maybe Peebs just wants us out of the way or something. Distract us so we don't notice there's no bringing Marceline back."

Finn reeled back with a shriek. "Why would you even say that, Jake!? We have to keep hoping!"

"What's the use? She's gone. And she's gone because of me."

The human considered his yellow little friend, even as he lay back on the log. "Listen, Jake. I know you're upset about giving Marce the info, but she left on her own. It wasn't your fault."

"Yeah, but –"

"Uh, uh," Finn cut off and continued sagaciously, "it wasn't your fault. Chick's always just actin' without thinkin'. Real impulsive like that."

"I told her about Prismo, though."

"She would have found out from someone else then."

"How?" The doubt in his voice was thick and impenetrable. Jake wanted to be blamed. "No one else knew."

"I did."

The dog looked up at Finn with a funny expression. His friend was cheerful and nodding for no reason.

"That's right. I knew about Prismo. And about the Enchiridion. If you hadn't had told Marceline, I probably would have…you know how she just stares into my soul. If you aren't careful, you just start talking all sorts of crazy deep feelings and jazz to her. Tricky. She's a tricky one."

Jake laughed, his guilt giving way to sarcasm. "Finn, BMO can trick you into spilling your guts."

"Yeah, I know. So where to next?"

About a thousand years away, and possibly in a different dimension entirely, a newfound comfort had taken root between two rekindled friends, although their friendship was kept hidden for now by one Marceline. She smiled and leaned back into her chair, happy to listen to anything Simon wanted to say as long as she could stay here like this. At the moment the man was going through unearthed treasures which proved the existence of mermaids.

"…this one in particular I found along the shore of an ancient lake in Africa, only limestone and fossils at the time, perfectly preserved in the surrounding seabed. Although it is an incomplete skeleton, you can still get such a story from it.

"See how the bones splay out from this central grouping, like hands almost? And here, where you can see such intricacy between them, where they possibly had webbing of some sort. I am convinced this is proof of them, Marceline. And this dates, oh goodness, this dates well into late Pleistocene era, at least. Which, if my calculations are correct, would be right around the time early Humans emerged.

"Which could possibly mean these two species, Humans and Mermaids, came from the same ancestral background. Perhaps even the same family. That some small difference in climate or environment, some factor in their evolutionary development triggered mermaids to separate from the normal path of evolution and grow as they did instead."

The man, lost in his words, looked to her suddenly, aware that he'd done it again. "Oh, I'm sorry, Marceline – I'm probably boring you with all this talk of mermaids."

"No, why would you think that?"

Simon smiled and studied her.

"It's just that most people immediately think you're crazy if you believe in the existence of mermaids. It's enough to get you laughed out of board meetings with the Smithsonian, I know that much."

"Why would anyone laugh at you? I think it's fascinating. I believe in mermaids, too."

"Really?" the man peered hopefully at her from across the top of his blue spectacles, wanting to believe. "You do?"

"Yep." Marceline said without pause. "In fact I've see—uh," she quickly stopped and laughed nervously.

She couldn't tell Simon about them without sounding crazy. The Land of Ooo was commonplace for all sorts of odds and ends, including mermaids. But here…she'd be locked up if she mentioned it.

"I've seriously considered…going…on an expedition for them. Yeah! Off to the seas of…of…Australia." Thank you, hallway map. She smiled prettily and shrugged, trying to pass it off.

Simon half-smiled, rubbing his chin with a hand. "Australia, yes…yes of course! Why, didn't I think of that? Australia would be the perfect migratory path from Africa...in fact, there has recently been claim to finding mermaid bones in Indonesia, right along the route to Australia.

"Oh, Marceline, you have inspired me! No, you have done more than that…"

He looked at her and felt something he couldn't explain. There was something about her that just…

The two of them shared a brief moment of warm silence, during which he had somehow come to hold her hands. Marceline looked down at them, their fingers entwined, curious about this feeling swelling painfully in her chest. Simon shyly withdrew from her, looking her in the eyes.

"Marceline, I —"

An alarm went off down the hall and interrupted them. Simon's eyes went wide as he rounded toward the kitchen door. "Oh crabs, don't tell me I missed it!"

"What? Simon? What's wrong?"

Marceline got up from her chair and followed him, careful not to float. It was hard not to when her heart felt so light.

"Oh, mother, oh mother mother…ah! Thank goodness! I didn't miss it." The man plopped down on his bed and turned on the small TV sitting on the stand opposite, a familiar melody filling the room. His smile was bright as he turned and regarded his female visitor, still standing in the doorway confused. With a hand he disengaged his alarm clock.

"Oh, Marceline – have you ever watched Cheers? It's my favorite. The TV Guide said there would be a marathon on tonight of the best episodes.

"I'm sorry, where are my manners?"

He got up and went to usher her in, and then stopped. Realization hit him. He was suddenly awkwardly aware of finding themselves in his bedroom. Blushing profusely, he turned, trying to figure out a better room to put his TV in. Maybe the living room? No, none of the glass shelves could bear the weight of his old TV. The kitchen?

Marceline, hardly uncomfortable, went around him and perched herself on the edge of his bed. The little moving people intrigued her. She had never watched a TV before. Unless she counted Simon's humorous display behind a box he'd done once for her entertainment.

"So this is Cheers?" She said, much to Simon's embarrassment.

He watched the girl get comfortable on his bed and almost fainted from anxiety. She. Was. On. His. Bed. Shocked silent, Simon would have done so if not for her saying, "I've never seen it before."

Suddenly the fear was gone and Simon relaxed into his role of professor, seating himself neatly by her side.

"Really? Oh, my goodness – Marceline, this is one of the greats! You've really never seen..? Okay, here, I'll fill you in on some of the important details.

"That is Sam Malone. He was a baseball star until he drank his career away. Ironically he owns this bar, but the bar is more of a catalyst for the comedic banter than anything. Oh, oh, and there is Coach – you'll like Coach," Simon's excitement turned him to look at Marcy, and he caught himself staring, "Coach is…beautiful."

"What?"

Simon straightened and cleared his throat nervously, "I mean, Coach is a…beautifully crafted…character. He's easy going and possibly senile, but he cares about people and helps solve their problems. He's sort of like everyone's nice old dad."

The man remained sitting uncomfortably for a few moments in awkward silence. Marceline didn't notice.

"Who's that? She seems really stuck-up."

"Oh, that's Diane. She's not stuck-up, per se, but she has a difficult time adjusting herself to the life of the bar. Her character portrays a degree of academic understanding and intelligence that goes unparalleled with the local bar-goers, but when it comes right down to it, she really has no knowledge of the real world. I think they end up teaching her more about life than she ever found in a book, which is why she's drawn to Cheers.

"She is also the on again, off again love interest of Sam, which makes for some interesting situations."

"And he likes her? I mean, she's so cold to him."

Simon gulped and stared at Marceline's hand, which was mere inches away from his own on the bed. The girl was oblivious to his inner turmoil.

"They…have their moments."

"Ooo, who's that?"

Simon had to force himself to look at the TV. "Norm. Oh, Norm! He's one of my favorites."

He watched Marceline smile and felt his heart speed up. The man was suddenly dizzy.

"And who's that?"

"Who? Oh, that's Cliff. He's a mailman that seems to know a little about everything."

"Ah. So the little one must be Carla then."

"Carla? So you have seen Cheers!"

Marceline leaned back and looked up to the ceiling, wondering how much she should tell him. "Nope. But one of my dearest friends in the world loves Cheers. He'd talk about it all the time."

"Sounds like he has good taste."

There was a heavy sadness on her heart that she couldn't just be open with Simon. She regarded him and with earnestness said, "He does."

Simon and Marcy sat together in a moment of silence.

On the TV, the uppity Diane was addressing the group of them, Sam in tow.

"…we have one thing very much in common with one another..."

"I got it! They were both born brunette!" Carla interjected.

Above the laughter, Diane fought to speak again.

"…no! We have a willingness to be vulnerable with one another."

Their eyes met after what seemed a lifetime, a silent understanding passing between them. Marceline leaned closer. Simon forgot how to breathe. The two searched one another's eyes in this intimate moment –

"I think I see a trip to the 'Ye Olde Leash and Leather Shoppe' coming up." On the TV, Norm ruined it for both couples.

Face flushed and feeling hot, Simon quickly got up from the bed and found himself in the doorway.

"Are you thirsty? Would you like…uh...some water?"

Marceline, eyes wide, nodded without thinking. After he'd left, she was faced with a sudden realization.

She didn't just love Simon. She was in love with him.