Oh look, a one shot! The writing of this was made infinitely cuter and also much more difficult because the stupid kitty Cinnamon is based on wanted to snuggle with my hands and it turns out her spelling sucks. Kitty typing does not improve fiction, fyi.

Brits! Try not reading this in a broad Yorkshire accent, I dares you! Can't be done :)

05.45

An ear splitting beep! beep! broke the silence in the still half-dark room. After a moment the blankets moved and a pale hand appeared groping towards the offending alarm clock, followed by a soft stream of German curse words.

The light flicked on and a girl sat up, rubbing her eyes and pushing sleep-wild spikes of syrupy blonde hair out of her face. She ran her tongue around dry lips and cast a bleary glance at the shapeless lump under the blankets next to her.

"Morning. Are you coming down for breakfast?" she asked, prodding the duvet gently.

There was a muffled grunt from somewhere within the heaps of blankets and she frowned.

"Are you still mad at me?"

No reply. The blankets appeared to hunch more tightly around themselves with the distinct air of someone pointedly ignoring her.

"Marcy?"

Another grunt.

"Fine. I'm getting up, some of us don't have the luxury of choosing our own hours."

Happy morning mood dissolving like mist under the morning sun, Bonnie slid out of bed and padded out of the dark bedroom, grabbing an old shirt on her way. Typical Marceline, still mad about that fight last night. It wasn't even really a fight, just a heated discussion. Well she wasn't sorry for what she'd said; it needed saying. She was sick of always ending their nights that way.

Bonnie nearly tripped head first down the stairs as a creamy ginger cat tumbled past her legs to land in an inelegant heap on the rug in the hall. He picked himself up with a pitiful mewl and pawed at the door to the kitchen, sad yellow eyes staring balefully back up at her. It was hard to stay mad at Cinnamon, he was pretty stupid but ridiculously cute. Deep down she was sure he never really meant to try to kill her every morning, he just wasn't very clever and got excited when he heard anyone going downstairs. Or to the bathroom. Or anywhere, really.

"Stupid kitty." she mumbled tenderly, petting his soft furry head and letting him into the kitchen.

Grey light filtered sluggishly through the blinds and the dull patter against the window panes warned Bonnie of rain. Just what she needed; her awful old car hated rain almost as much as she did. The kitchen was still a mess from last night's dinner and there weren't even any clean mugs to make tea in. Gotta fix the dishwasher too, she thought to herself. It wasn't that they were incapable of hand washing stuff, it was just such a chore to do it after cooking, and then they'd been distracted and then not-fighting and she'd just gone to bed in the end, fed up with trying to explain her position.

She grabbed a handful of kibbles for Cinnamon and a banana for herself before retreating to the old battered sofa and switching on the TV. The speakers blared and with a wince and apologetic glance at the ceiling she hastily turned it down. Just because Marcy was mad at her didn't mean she should be inconsiderate.

The news was predictably depressing. Murders, scandals, disasters; at least there wasn't another public health scare to make her day at work a hundred times more complicated. Bonnie switched it off with a low sigh, she only ever watched the news out of guilty habit anyway because she could just imagine her mother's disapproving face if she learned her only daughter usually watched cartoons with her gay lover over breakfast. She was still pretty annoyed about the gay lover part, the cartoons would be the final straw.

Cinnamon jumped onto the sofa and head butted her arm gently. She smiled and picked him up for his morning cuddles. It had been their routine since he was a kitten and no amount of changing towns, shift work or new girlfriends moving in had changed it. He settled against her shoulder with a happy purr, a warm comforting weight that drooled a little onto her shirt. She could forgive him for it though, what was a little drool between family?

"Thanks for the hug little guy. I needed it. She's still mad at me." she murmured into his thick fur. Claws prickled against her skin for a moment at her voice and he purred harder, like an fat ginger motor turning over.

The ceiling creaked above her and a moment later heavy footsteps across the hall announced that Marceline was unexpectedly up and about to hog the shower.

Bonnie left her uneaten banana on the coffee table; all she'd done was mush it a little between her palms and look at it anyway. She never had any appetite when they fought like this and no doubt it would get consumed in Marcy's habitual raid of every single edible item in the entire house later today anyway. Bonnie found herself contemplating sneaking up and dressing before her girlferiend was finished in the shower and then immediately felt terribly guilty. She wasn't going to hide just because they'd had a row, that was childish and ridiculous. But Marcy seemed to be taking her time and a glance at the clock over the TV said that if she didn't get dressed now she was going to
be late, so with a sigh she gently unwound the affectionate cat from her shoulder and placed him carefully on the floor. By habit he tried to cling to her arm and purred harder, unwilling to let her stop petting him just yet.

"Come on, move your buns Cinnamon. I need to get to work." Bonnie sighed, rolling the chubby cat onto his aide and tickling his belly.

She dressed quickly and was just fishing her boots from under the bed when the bathroom door across the hall opened, the top of the stairs creaked and an angry voice yelled, "Cinnamon! Get off my leg! I swear to God I'm gonna turn you into a hat one of these days!"

Well, at least the bathroom was free. Cinnamon stuck his head around the door while she was brushing her teeth and meowed happily, jumping up to the sink and pawing at her toothbrush.

"Poor kitty. Sorry I've got to leave you with her in such a bad mood." she whispered, stroking his ears. Cinnamon meowed again like he agreed and Bonnie giggled, her good mood somewhat restored.

When she went back downstairs Marcy was slumped on the sofa in her pyjamas with headphones on, tapping furiously on her laptop with her long damp hair sticking everywhere. Probably writing silly fiction again, she had a lot of time between recording sessions when she should be working on new tunes but mostly wrote fan fiction online for teenagers on the other side of the world. Bonnie shook her head with a fond smile and grabbed her keys and security pass from the stand by the door. In her opinions musicians had it way easy once they'd managed to land a recording deal. She'd never figured out how Marceline managed to spend almost all of her time messing around with hobbies and projects and still come up with new songs at a moment's notice.

"I'm going now, have a good day. Try not to go full Cruella DeVille on my cat please."

Marceline didn't reply, Bonnie wasn't sure she'd even hear. So taking her courage in hand she leaned across the back of the sofa and wrapped her arms around the taller girl in a tight hug, landing a kiss on her cheek. Marcy stiffened up in surprise but didn't actively try to push her away so Bonnie counted it as a partial win. She slid one earphone away from her girlfriend's face and whispered into her ear.

"I'm going to work. Don't sulk, it's not very attractive. I'll be home tonight. I love you."

And without looking back to see what effect her words had she strode out the back door, smirking and silently congratulating herself on the perfect dramatic exit. Bonnie two, Marcy nil.

The drive to work was unremarkable save for having to eject Marceline's godawful punk CD and rummage for something more suitable. It wasn't easy; since Marcy had moved in more and more of Bonnie's CDs had mysteriously been replaced in her car with albums that sounded like people violently breaking their instruments to a repetitive beat. Eventually she managed to fish one of Marceline's old demo CDs from under the passenger seat; a slowish one with a couple of ballads on it. It was soothing to listen to even if Bonnie really didn't think "A Case Of You" required covering by anyone, ever. Still if someone was going to try to improve on the perfection that was Joni Mitchell at least it was someone talented with an amazing voice.

She pulled into her parking space a good fifteen minutes earlier than usual, grimacing slightly at the crunch from the bottom of her old car when she turned the wheel too sharply. It was going to need a mechanic just as soon as she had time to take it in. She added it to the rapidly lengthening list of things that needed fixing.

Her phone buzzed in her bag and she glanced toward the doors of the building. Earl wasn't here yet thank God, he was the most bad tempered boss she'd ever had and would accept absolutely no reason for not promptly entering the building and getting a headstart of paperwork. The last time Bonnie's car had refused to start and Marcy had to give her a lift in he'd yelled so hard he looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. And Marcy had just watched him like a slightly bemused adult watching a toddler throw a tantrum then pointed out quietly to her that he had a face like an angry lemon. Yeah, thanks Marcy. Now I can't unsee that.

But Earl wasn't here yet so Bonnie had a moment to check her phone before she had to start another mind numbing day in in the boring world of public health protection. When she lit up her screen there was a message notification overlaid with a photo of the person who'd sent it. Wolf Marcy from Finn's fancy dress birthday party a couple of months ago grinned back at her a little drunkenly from the screen.

Sighing Bonnie opened it, wondering why her girlfriend was texting at not quite 7am when she was still mad from the night before. She felt her eyebrows disappear under her fringe and toes curl as she read the message.

im not a pillow queen so get your butt back here and ill prove it. throw a sickie or pretend you have an emergency at home cuz im wearing your silky red nightdress. call me marceline the pillow queen'again and see what happens i dare you

Earl still wasn't around and nobody had seen her arrive. Bonnie took all of three seconds to make her decision and texted the assistant manager.

Hey it's Bonnibel, really sorry it's such short notice but I've lost my voice so can't come in today. Sorry I can't call. I'll let you know about tomorrow. x

Grinning to herself as she turned the car back onto the road, Bonnie thought it might not be such a bad day after all.