More Than Human, ch9, part 5
More Than Human, ch9
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
part 5
Title: More Than Human
Chapter 9: Monday Broke My Heart, or Everybody Knows You Cried Last Night
Pairing: RrB/PpG
Rating: R/M, because they're teenagers and a good handful of them use terrible, filthy language.
Disclaimer: Pay your respect to Craig, not me.
Summary: There is no way I can make this sound original, ever. My attempt to write a believable RrB/PpG in high school fic. Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal. - Camus
Notes: Thanks to mathkid and juxtaposie who are the best. Around. Nothing's ever gonna keep 'em down.
More Than Human, Pt. 2 - Senior Fall Semester
September - Monday Broke My Heart, or Everybody Knows You Cried Last Night
-sbj-
The doorbell buzzed, and Bubbles looked up from the vanity. Boomer was early...
She dashed down before the Professor could emerge from the lab-she had just finished getting ready-and opened the door.
“Hey,” she started, surprised. “You're ahead of-”
Boomer took her face in his hands and kissed her, hard. She suppressed a gasp, then, after a second, patted his arm.
As he pulled away, she blinked and whispered, “What-what's wrong?”
Boomer's face was conflicted; he looked as if he were somewhere between going on a rampage or maybe bursting into tears. His gaze was fixated on their feet, and he gulped, still touching her face and stroking her cheek.
“I love you,” he breathed, still unable to look her in the eye, and her heart stilled. She heard shuffling coming from the lab; the Professor was moving up the stairs, and she maneuvered them outside and shut the front door behind her as they took off.
They flew aimlessly-they'd talked about going to see a movie tonight, but it didn't seem like Boomer was in the mood-until finally Bubbles touched down at the docks, deserted on Friday evenings, with Boomer's hand in hers.
“Bold of you, to kiss me like that with my dad there,” she said, smiling at him.
Boomer stared at their clasped hands. “Yeah.”
After a long moment she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and drew up close to him. “Hey.” She ruffled his hair, and finally he looked up at her. “Is everything okay?”
“I mean that,” he blurted, swallowing again.
She smiled. “I know.”
“I really... I love-”
She pecked him on the corner of his mouth. “I know.”
His arms went around her waist and he pulled her close. “He... he wants me to break up with you.”
She snorted as she hugged him back. “Brick doesn't strike me as the sensitive type.”
“He doesn't get it,” Boomer whispered, his grip tightening.
“Something tells me Brick's not going to get a lot of things,” Bubbles said cheerfully. Like a girlfriend.
“He was saying... saying that I let you rule my life, that I'm too... too into you, or something...”
She could hear the franticness in his voice, how he was struggling for words, trying to make sense of it by saying it out loud. She kissed his shoulder, trying to calm him down.
Boomer barreled on, unable to stop. “He just... he doesn't understand. He doesn't know. He doesn't know how... how I feel when I'm with you, how you make everything else just not... matter.”
The faint smile that had appeared on her face-an attempt at lightheartedness, at diffusing his almost panicked state-faded. Boomer clung to her, and all she could do was hold him and listen.
“Brick keeps-he has plans, and great, so he's got plans, for him and me and Butch, and I... I just, I always go along with him, because he's my brother and the leader and it's not like I've got anywhere I want to go or anything I want to do, so I might as well, right?” His hands drifted down her back, clenched around her even tighter. “But this... I want this. I want you. You're like... you're the only thing I've ever wanted, and I mean, really wanted, in a way that makes me...” He took a shuddering inhale and shook his head. She waited, her heart numb at this, at hearing all of this...
“That makes me not care about anything else,” he said, and her breath left her; she wanted to kiss him, she wanted to hold him and kiss him forever. “And he should let me have it! Because it's the only thing that makes me feel... I mean... you know, Brick's the boss, and he's got the brains, and Butch is the psycho, or whatever you want to call it, and he's got the muscle, but I've got nothing. I've never had anything. I'm just the fucking runt, the clown, I don't do anything, they don't need me for anything...”
“Shh,” she whispered, petting his hair. “Boomer, don't-”
“No, it's true,” he said heatedly. “I've never had anything that was really mine. I mean, even my... even my music thing...” He trailed off, his grip on her loosening.
“Boomer?” she said, her voice quiet.
He pulled away from her, his eyes downcast. He shook his head again, stepping back. “And that's something even you won't let me have, just because I made a deal with Him for it, and it's like, you don't think I can take care of myself or make my own decisions-”
“Boomer, no!”
“And it's just like Brick! Neither of you want me to do things on my own-”
“That's not it-”
“You don't trust me, you guys don't think I can handle Him, or a girlfriend-”
He wasn't looking at her. He was staring at the ground, his expression growing more upset by the second, and Bubbles grabbed his face and tilted it towards hers, pressing their foreheads together.
“Stop,” she said. “Stop, for a second. Okay?”
Boomer swallowed, then sighed, closing his eyes and reaching a hand up to grasp one of her wrists. As Bubbles pulled him in for a tight hug, she mulled over everything he'd just said, trying to dissect it, analyze it. She hadn't realized how much of a little boy Boomer was, how much he bought into this idea that he was the dumb one who couldn't do anything, to the point where he assumed everyone thought that of him and resented them for it. It made her sad, that he felt that. She kissed him, her mouth soft, trying to offer him some form of comfort.
Boomer pulled away again. “I,” he started, then looked her in the eye. “I think... I think I should tell you something.”
***
“Auuuugh!” Buttercup stood outside of the theater and flapped her hands as she shook out her nerves. “Holy shit! Holy shit, that was freaky.”
“Yeah, fuck driving home alone,” Mitch said with a shudder. “Harry, come on. I'll give you a ride home. Fuck, I'll even sleep over at your place tonight.”
“Like hell you will,” Harry said in mock disgust.
“You guys don't wanna do anything else?” Butch asked.
“Well, I don't know about you, but I sure as hell don't want to be getting home at two AM or nothing tonight,” Buttercup said. “My sleep's going to be fucked up enough as it is.”
Mitch lifted an eyebrow. “More so than when you saw The Grudge?”
“Oh, fuck that movie!” Buttercup cried, laughing. “That was cruel! Putting that bitch in the bed?! Bed's supposed to be one place you're safe!”
Mitch laughed and said to Butch, “She kept me up on the phone for weeks after we saw that-she refused to fall asleep without talking to someone-”
Buttercup kicked Mitch in the shin. “Mitch! Go to hell!”
“Oh my God, that reminds me of the best Halloween costume ever,” Lloyd said.
“The year we did The Ring? Holy crap, yes!” The rest of the group, sans Butch, broke into laughter.
“What was so funny about that?” he asked.
Buttercup swept her hair into her face and said, “Back then I had long hair, so I just, you know, draped it so it covered my face. Dressed up like the ghost chick, and the guys got all made up like they were my victims. Then we just trekked all over Townsville and stood in elevators, waiting for people to get on.” She cackled as the rest of the guys laughed. “Ugh, it was awesome! People were freaking the fuck out! The doors would open, and they'd see the guys lying on the ground all blue and dead with those crazy fucked up expressions, and I'd just be standing there in the middle of it all-we got kicked out of so many hotels that night.”
“I think we're permanently banned from a few of them,” Floyd said.
Butch gave a good-natured laugh. “Sorry I missed that.”
“We gotta think up something good for this year,” Harry said, rubbing his hands together.
The group voiced their assent, and after recounting some of their less successful Halloween exploits they went their separate ways. Butch and Buttercup lingered, waving as the guys split for their respective cars.
Butch looked at Buttercup. “You going to Robin's party tomorrow?”
“Yeah, we live right next door. She's, like, one of our best friends, besides. You?”
“Yeah. I mean, probably.”
“I guess I'll see you there, then,” she said, and held up a hand. “See you.”
As she turned and took a few steps before preparing to take off, Butch said, “You don't want an escort home?”
“Huh?”
He sneered at her. “Make sure the ghosties don't get you?”
“Oh, fuck you!” She laughed, beginning to hover. Butch did likewise and started to trail after her.
“I mean, just to be safe!” he called.
“Like I'm any safer with you!”
But she didn't tell him to go home, all the same.
***
Bubbles paced, feeling Boomer's eyes on her. He sat on the edge of the docks, his legs dangling over the water, and didn't seem to like the distressed look on her face. He turned his eyes back to his knees.
She took a deep breath and finally said, “What... what kind of... 'jobs' do you do?”
He looked at her, his mouth compressed into a thin line, and she closed her eyes and covered her face. “No. Don't tell me. Don't. I don't want to know, actually.” He'd told her everything except that. Well, she assumed everything. She couldn't know for sure. But Boomer had seemed so sincere. Besides, why would he make something like this up?
“You-you're not going to break up with me, are you?” he asked, and she looked up to see him twisting towards her, his face mirroring the panic she'd heard in his voice.
She bit her lip and sighed, then sat next to him. As she leaned her head on his shoulder and reached for his hands, she whispered, “No.” He sighed in relief, and she brushed her hand along his, again and again.
She cleared her throat, then asked, “But... are you guys... done? Do you have to go back and do... more?”
Boomer hesitated, squeezing her hand before answering. “I... I have to help Brick out with something.”
“When?”
“Like... in four years.”
She sat up in shock. “'Four years?' That long?”
He nodded. She blinked at him before slumping again, not leaning on him this time.
“He's my brother,” Boomer said. “I... I need to help him.”
“What does he-no, wait, never mind.” She buried her head in her arms. “I don't want to hear it.”
She could feel Boomer tensing beside her. “But after that I'm done. Forever. I'll come back here.”
She lifted her head just enough to rest her chin on her arms. “Four years is a long time, Boomer.”
“I know it sounds long, but... but I'll come back,” he finished lamely. Then, in a stronger voice, “I swear.”
The conviction in his voice touched her, and she glanced at him. At the look she gave him his steely expression crumpled. “Please don't fall in love with someone else when I'm gone.”
She couldn't help it; she gave a little laugh.
“I mean it!” he cried, pleading.
“Just...” she whispered, laying a hand on his. “Just don't... don't do anything bad. Anything else bad. While you're here.” She leaned in a little. “I want to see you be a good person. I need to know you can be.”
He nodded fervently, resolutely. “I can. Anything.”
She gave him a small kiss. Then she leaned on his shoulder, staring off into the sky. Four years. They'd barely been together a couple of months. She didn't know him, not really. They didn't know each other.
He turned his face into her hair. “Promise me you won't fall in love with someone else, Bubbles?”
I don't know, she thought to herself, trying to be realistic. I don't know what I can promise.
“Please,” he whispered. “I love you.”
That was true, though. In this moment, here, she loved him back, despite everything he'd told her. That made it a little easier.
“I won't,” she said, and it wasn't a lie. “I promise.”
He sighed against her in relief, and she wove an arm around his waist.
“Hey,” she said, and he pulled back to look at her. “Next month. Boomer... will you go to Homecoming with me?”
He blinked at her, dazed, then broke into a delirious, happy smile.
***
Blossom stared out of their bedroom window and heaved a sigh. That Saturday morning, Robin had chalked a message on their driveway, huge and easily readable from a mile above. It singled Blossom out.
REMEMBER! PARTY STARTS AT SEVEN! DON'T BE LATE, BLOSSOM!!!!
“She is such a dork,” Bubbles said, giggling as she drifted by the window.
Blossom looked at her. “You almost done?”
Bubbles fluffed her hair. “Blow-dried and dressed and just about ready to go! Going to drop by Boomer's first.”
“Why doesn't he just meet you over...” Blossom trailed off. Bubbles had snatched a pair of haircutting shears from the vanity.
“I want to go give Boomer a trim before the party-”
A bolt of pink zipped to Bubbles' side and grabbed at the back pocket she had stuffed the shears into.
“I can't let you do that,” Blossom said, her expression grave.
“Huh?”
“Has Boomer seen what happens when you get a pair of scissors in your hands?” Blossom had no ties to Boomer, but on a moral level she could not allow him to be dealt the cruel fate that she had faced at her sisters' hands.
“Oh, Blossom, that was years ago!”
“Do you cut your own hair, Bubbles?”
“Of course not, I can't see the back.” Bubbles tried to wave her away. “Now let off, he's waiting-”
“I cannot stand by while such a heinous deed is about to be committed,” Blossom said.
“Ugh, fine.” Bubbles grasped her wrist. “You come with me, then, and do it yourself.”
“Wait-what? What? That wasn't what I meant!” Blossom cried, but by then Bubbles had already thrown open one of the windows and catapulted the both of them into the air.
***
“Um.” Boomer blinked at a less-than-thrilled Blossom as Bubbles tied a towel around his neck. “Why the change in plans?”
“You want a haircut, not a butchering, right?” Blossom asked, and Bubbles pouted at her.
“I just want a trim,” he clarified, leaning into Bubbles' hand as it drifted across his cheek. They were situated in the dining area of the boys' apartment, having pushed the table and chairs off to the side. Blossom had looked uncomfortable at first, but she'd squared her shoulders and refused to let the setting get to her. She was the mature one, after all.
“Brick already left, you said?” Bubbles asked him, her eyes on her sister. Blossom started to examine his hair.
“Went for a drive not long ago,” Boomer said. The scissors began to snip around his head. “Um... do you cut hair often, Blossom?”
“I cut the Professor's occasionally, but that's it.”
“She cut Buttercup's hair, once,” Bubbles added. “She's handy with the scissors.”
Suddenly a key turned in the lock, and the three of them looked over to see Brick entering the apartment. Bubbles winced, her gaze darting to Blossom. Blossom shot down the panic that rose in her throat and kept her expression stoic.
“Brick!” Boomer said, surprised. “Back already?”
“I forgot-” Brick looked up, his eyes catching on Blossom. “Something.” After a second, he cleared his throat and said, “Um, what are you guys doing here?”
“Giving Boomer a haircut,” Blossom said stiffly, before either of the blonds could respond. She resumed snipping. “Don't trust Bubbles with scissors, which led to me getting manhandled into doing it.”
“I didn't manhandle you!”
“Brick,” Boomer said, a little roughly. He made sure Brick saw him reaching for Bubbles' hand; she let him grasp her. “Haven't you been talking about getting a haircut, too?”
Bubbles kicked him, and he looked at her in shock. “Ow!”
“Careful,” Blossom reprimanded. “Jerk around like that and you're going to wind up with a lot more hair missing.”
“He's been talking about getting his hair cut!”
“Not the time, Boomer,” Bubbles hissed through gritted teeth.
“If you want a haircut, Brick, give me a minute and I'll be done with Boomer's.”
Bubbles gaped at Blossom. Brick swallowed, unnerved by the forced neutrality of her tone.
“Do you want one or not? I'm already over here with scissors, anyway.”
Forced contact might be good, he thought. He might get over this quicker, then.
Within five minutes Boomer was dusting the loose clippings from his hair while Brick settled in the chair. Blossom shook out the towel and tied it around his neck rather mechanically; he expected to feel the tingle of her hands brushing along his neck but no such luck. She then pushed the cap off his head, into his lap. He stared at it as she wet her hand in a bowl of water and combed it through his hair. His chest lurched at the contact despite her brusque movements, and he clenched his fists underneath the towel.
“How short do you want it?” she asked.
“Short,” he said. “Short.”
Bubbles leaned against the wall, cocking her head to study him. Boomer had retreated to his room to change. “Close to the head would be good, Blossom.”
“Alright, then,” Blossom said, and snipped off the hair gathered at the nape of Brick's neck. “Say bye to your mullet, Brick.”
“Wh-I did not have a mullet!” Brick snapped, his discomfort forgotten.
Blossom grunted as she shook his hair out and began cutting.
Brick scowled for a while, irritated by the snide remark. Eventually, though, it faded, and he was only aware of her hands, drifting around his head, skirting the nape of his neck and his scalp as she snipped away.
Within minutes Bubbles was smiling. “Looking good.”
“I'm a pro,” Blossom said quietly, then came around to the front. “Just gotta do your bangs.”
And then she was there staring right at him, and he tensed, trying not to stare back. She may as well not have been looking at him, though. Her eyes seemed to barely skim the crown of his head; hell, she almost seemed to be looking past him. At first he'd averted his eyes, but, after getting the dim sensation that he wasn't really being looked at anyway, his gaze gradually slid back up. Her expression was flat, unchanging. She merely gathered up what remained of his too-long hair, closed the shears on the strands, then went about evening them out.
“There.” She lifted his cap, blew some loose hair off of it, and thumped it back on his head. Brick stared at the orange clippings on the floor, then angled his head to watch as she... left.
“See you guys at the party,” she said, and the sound of the door slamming almost stung. After a moment, a numb Brick tugged the towel off. Bubbles was sweeping up the floor.
“Are you going, Brick?” she asked, and he wadded up the towel into a ball.
“I...” In truth, he hadn't been planning on it. Well, in truth truth, he had been planning on it, but then last Saturday and... yeah.
But she wasn't being hugely emotional about it. She seemed to have taken it okay, even if she was being a little cold. It was better than tears and screaming. Maybe he could just talk to her. Tonight. Maybe.
“Yeah,” he said, standing up and scratching his neck. “Yeah, I'm going.”
***
“She cut your hair?!” Butch grabbed Boomer and shook him. “Why didn't you call me?!”
Boomer tossed his brother off, and a few of the other partygoers dodged him as they made their way up Robin's walkway. “I didn't know she was going to cut my hair! Besides, what the hell, you were out already getting your own haircut!”
“Which does look sharp, if I may say so,” Buttercup volunteered.
“I like yours too, Buttercup,” Bubbles said, playing with the shortened black strands. Buttercup made a noise and swatted her away.
Butch looked on the verge of tears. Buttercup patted him on the shoulder. “Oh, Butch. It's not like Blossom would've willingly touched you anyway.”
Butch moaned. Bubbles peered at a grocery bag he had with him. “What's that for?”
He snapped to and shielded it from the rest of them. “'S a surprise.”
Buttercup's gaze hardened. “This is a friend's house. If you're going to try anything-”
“It's not going to fuck up Robin's house, I swear. It's not targeted at her.”
“'Targeted?'” Before Buttercup could press the issue, she spotted Brick approaching. “Hey! You got your hair cut, too?”
“Yeah, Blossom did his, too,” Bubbles said.
Butch's jaw dropped as Brick passed them and grunted.
“I hate my brothers,” Butch whined. “I hate you both so very, very much.”
***
Brick ran into Julie and Mike, and made small talk with them in the kitchen while he kept his eyes peeled for Blossom. He didn't want to actively go looking for her just yet. It was a party. Nobody was in a hurry.
“Brick, have you heard about the photos yet?” Julie asked, jarring his attention.
“Huh?”
“For Modern Girl.”
“Oh... no,” he said, grabbing a can of soda and popping it open.
“I'll bet that was something,” Mike said. “I heard from Bubbles that they had these ridiculous costumes-”
Julie groaned. “Oh, Lord, don't remind me.”
“They were terrible,” Brick agreed, his eyes suddenly drawn to the flash of orange-red hair in the dining room.
“Oh, Brick, I didn't even notice you got a haircut!” Julie pointed at the nape of his neck. “Usually you keep your hair pulled back. Take off your cap and let us see?”
Brick merely shifted his cap back on his head.
She rolled her eyes. “Brick.”
“I took my cap off, I just did it at a speed too fast for normal human beings to see,” he said, eyes wandering to the dining room. Red bow. It was Blossom.
Julie turned her attention to Mike. “So,” she said playfully, nodding in the direction of the dining room. “Care to explain why Robin is wearing your letter jacket?”
“She was cold,” Mike said.
“Right. How long has-”
“Excuse me,” Brick said, and moved for the dining room. Blossom and Robin had just disappeared around the corner. He reached the doorway and lingered, watching them climb the steps to the second story, and, once they were out of sight, he trailed after them. Robin had led Blossom to a second living area upstairs, where Butch, Buttercup, and the rest of their friends plus a few others were gathered in a circle, laughing.
As Brick reached the second story landing Robin dashed by him to what looked like her bedroom. Blossom was resting against the banister, but when she saw Brick she instantly took off after Robin and shut the door.
Brick stared, speechless.
***
The smile on Buttercup's face dissolved as she watched Brick turn and trudge back down the stairs. Mike bounded in past him and joined the group, sitting cross-legged next to Mitch and the twins. “Are you kidding me?!” he laughed, pointing at the empty bottle in the center. “Spin the Bottle? What are you guys, like, twelve?!”
“It's not Spin the Bottle, it's Truth or Dare,” Bubbles clarified from the corner, where she and Boomer were lounging on the couch, chatting with some friends from Choir.
“Oh, so you guys are, what, thirteen instead of twelve tonight,” Mike amended, snickering.
“Miiiiiike,” Boomer jeered. “Why is Robin wearing your letter jacket?”
The room Oohed and whistled in response.
Mike bit his lip to suppress his grin. “Because she's coooooold.”
“Riiiiiiiiight.” Mitch rolled his eyes. “You in or what?”
Mike dove for a bowl of popcorn. “What're the rules?”
Buttercup chimed in. “No stripping, no Frenching, no groping, no-”
“Well, the hell with this,” Mike said, and made as if to go.
“That's what I said!” Butch exclaimed.
“Let's get Robin back in here and he'll stay,” Kim said.
“And no flashing,” Buttercup finished. “That's it.”
“Okay, well, come on.” Mike settled in. “Whose spin is it?”
“Bobby, go,” Kim said, moving from the couch to sit next to her boyfriend in the circle. Bobby spun the bottle, where it eventually stopped on Butch to scattered applause and catcalls.
Butch spread his arms wide open. “Dare. Bring it on, fucker.”
“Kiss the hottest person in the room.”
“Oh, please, that is so unoriginal!” Harry groaned, and a number of other folks voiced their assent.
“Damn!” Butch looked distraught. “Blossom was just here!”
“I thought there wasn't any kissing!” Mary cried.
“No Frenching,” Bobby corrected.
“Double damn,” Butch said.
“Just so you know, I don't want you choosing me, Butch,” Boomer announced. “I mean, I am pretty hot and all, but that's just sick.”
Buttercup raised her hand. “Excuse me. I would pay good money to see that happen.”
“I'm in Buttercup's camp on this one,” Kim added, raising her hand as well.
“Me too,” another girl said.
“Same,” said another voice.
“I'm very susceptible to peer pressure,” Mary said, raising her hand.
“Count me in,” Bubbles said, and at the horrified look Boomer gave her she shrugged. “Why not?”
“I'd rather kiss Brick than you,” Butch sniped at Boomer.
“Holy crap, I'd pay twice as much to see that happen!” Buttercup shouted, raising both hands, and the rest of the girls whooped and hollered.
“Brick!” Bubbles screamed. “Where are you? Get up here!”
“No no no, fuck you all!” Butch cried, standing up. “I'm gonna choose now!”
“If Brick gets in here you're kissing him!” Buttercup ordered.
“Shut up, I'm choosing!” Butch announced, and the room went quiet as he scanned it. His gaze swept from one end of the room to the other, lingering on Harry, and as soon as the room started cheering he laughed and shook his head.
“You wish,” he said, and skipped over Buttercup to the other corner. He swept his eyes back around the room a couple of times, drawing the room's ire.
“Dude! Pick already!”
“If you can't pick the hottest, pick the least ugly one.”
“That's impossible,” he sneered, his gaze skipping once more over Buttercup. Then it came back, shifting between her and Harry, and Buttercup felt the smile on her face start to fade.
He's not serious, she thought to herself, starting to panic. He's not-
“Hey, what are you guys up to?” Julie appeared in the doorway, and everyone, Butch included, turned to look at her. “It got all quiet in here!”
Butch clasped his hands and made praying motions to Heaven. “Saved!” he sang, and Buttercup exhaled.
Butch stepped over to Julie and pointed at the can in her hands. “Whatcha drinking?”
She glanced from him to the soda. “Oh, just-”
He then grasped her by the chin and tilted her face up for a kiss. Julie's eyes went wide and her shoulders stiffened; Buttercup didn't realize until Butch let go just how tense her own shoulders were.
Butch licked his lips thoughtfully. “Cherry soda.” He winked at Julie as he sat down, and as Buttercup stared furtively at him it seemed to her that he was avoiding meeting her eyes.
Julie blinked, still a little shocked. “Okay, I guess I just walked in on the Kiss Random People Game?”
“Truth or Dare,” Bubbles corrected.
Julie laughed. “Seriously? Are we all in middle school or something?”
“Thank you,” Mike said.
“My turn!” Butch spun the bottle with a flourish, and the room watched until it finally landed pointed squarely at Buttercup. She covered her face and groaned as the rest of the room clapped again.
“Finally!” Butch cried, grabbing at his grocery bag. “I've been waiting for this moment all night!”
“God, of all the people for you to land on,” Buttercup moaned.
“Truth or Dare, Buttercup?” Mitch asked.
“Dare,” she responded.
“Alright!” Butch chortled, beside himself. “Buttercup, you paying attention?!” He dropped a full bag of cherries in her lap.
She stared at it, horror welling up in her gaze as she turned her eyes on him. “No way.”
He adopted a smug, cocky grin. “Do it.”
“No. No way. Oh my God, you're shitting me.”
“Wait, what? What's the dare?” somebody asked.
“Buttercup,” Butch said, “I dare you to tie a knot in every one of those cherry stems with your tongue.”
She glared at him while the rest of the room murmured amongst themselves.
“Butch, is that why you had the cherries?” Bubbles asked. “You got lucky. What were the odds of you daring Buttercup to do that tonight?”
“That's going to take forever,” Mike said. “That's like five pounds of-”
“I'll bet you she can do that whole bag in five minutes or less,” Butch interjected. “Somebody time her.”
“Butch, you fucker,” she said, shaking her head.
“Less talking, more knotting,” he said. “You told me you could do it! Now I wanna see it!”
“Buttercup, is he serious?” Bubbles looked up. “Can you really do that?”
Harry handed her the empty popcorn bowl. “Here. Spit the stems out in this so we can see.”
“You guys, you all just suck,” Buttercup groaned, ripping into the bag.
“Buttercup, if you can do this, I will be in awe of you forever,” Kim said.
“Time her!” Butch crowed. “Somebody!”
Mitch undid his watch and held it up. “Okay, ready?”
With a heavy sigh, Buttercup grabbed a handful of cherries.
“Go!”
The room cheered as she worked the first one, and went into surprised cries of glee after she spit it out perfectly tied in five seconds with the cherry still attached.
“Holy shit, you're kidding me!”
“Unreal!”
She burned through the first handful, then another, then another, and the cheering increased each time she spat a tied stem into the bowl. Halfway through the bag, though, the cheers faded off. The room continued to watch in silence, slack-jawed, as Buttercup worked her way through the rest of the rapidly diminishing bag.
“Dude,” Harry said in wide-eyed awe, watching the pile of tied stems multiply.
“If I had a bunk I would so be in it right now,” Mike whispered.
Butch stared, his smile long gone and his gaze fixated on the movement of Buttercup's jaw as she tied stem after stem. Soon enough she was down to the last cherry-or two cherries, with their stems still connected to each other. She examined them, then popped them into her mouth. Within a few seconds she reached her hand to her lips, extracting the final two cherries from her mouth, and placed them on top of the pile, where everyone could see she had tied a knot in each stem while they were still connected.
She rubbed the back of her hand against her mouth, looked around the room, then fixed her eyes on Mitch and asked, “Time?”
Mitch glanced down. “Four minutes and fifty-five seconds,” he murmured.
“I guess you win that bet, Butch. Now, excuse me.” Buttercup grunted as she rose to her feet. “Before I take my turn I'm going to grab something to drink.”
The room watched in reverential awe as she left the room.
Julie broke the silence. “That girl needs to teach a class or something.”
Bobby latched onto Kim. “Please take that class. Please.”
“I thought that was just a rumor,” Harry hissed to the twins. “I didn't think she seriously had a mutant tongue!”
“Okay, Butch?” Mike tapped his fist against his chest and pointed at him. “Respect. Mad, mad respect for you. Because, holy crap. I mean, holy crap.”
A few of the other guys voiced their hearty thanks to him. Butch, meanwhile, stared at the full bowl, the image of Buttercup's jaw, open wide and with her cheeks slightly sucked in, playing over and over again in his memory.
He suddenly felt a strong, strong craving for cherries.
***
Brick sat on the back porch, watching the gray dusk sky give way to the dark blue of night. He could hear them; most of the party was upstairs playing a party game. Truth or Dare, it sounded like. He nursed can after can of soda as he rocked on the porch swing.
He shouldn't have come. He could tell Blossom still hadn't emerged from Robin's room; her voice was nowhere to be heard in the upstairs chatter. It was dimmer, further away, as if she were whispering very quietly, but even with superhearing Brick couldn't make it out.
He lifted his cap and ran his hand through his hair. It felt nice short. Cooler. He almost wished she had taken more time with it, that she had let her hands linger on his scalp, touch him a little more than was necessary. But that was the wrong wish to have, obviously.
Why did he keep second guessing himself? This was stupid. Things were exactly as they should have been. Brick shouldn't have come to the party to talk to her, he should've just come to the party. He didn't need to go looking for her. There wasn't anything to resolve. He rolled his empty can in his hands, then crushed it and tossed it into a bin nearby.
“You know how many guys she's turned down?”
Brick jumped to his feet and whirled to find Buttercup standing in the doorway, her green eyes shimmering in the dim evening light.
“What?” he said, confused.
“I never really kept track of it. But it's gotta be in the double digits. More than twenty, probably. Can you imagine that? Turning down over twenty guys?” She stepped closer, her voice barely audible and almost threatening. “I mean, that's nuts.”
Brick only stared at her.
“You know,” she started, then stopped, and sighed. “Fuck it, whatever. I hope it's worth it, Brick. By the way, this is a dare.”
Before Brick could respond, Buttercup-blushing, he now realized, visible even in the darkness-took his face in her hands and planted her lips firmly against his.
Suddenly the light switch for the porch flicked on, and the people at the windows erupted into applause. Buttercup let go of him, swiping at her mouth and still red in the face.
“There, it's done,” she announced. “Can we fuck Truth or Dare, now? Get some video games going or something?”
Brick stared after her, stunned. The rest of the people who'd collected at the windows to watch filed back upstairs in her wake. Finally, Brick too went back inside, mulling over the kiss in his head. There had been something about it. Something important. He couldn't quite think of it but it was right there, within his grasp-
He shut the door to find Butch behind it, glowering at him. Brick glanced at him and frowned. “What?”
Butch just stared at him, fuming.
“What, Butch?” Brick sighed.
“You're a fucking dick,” Butch spat, shaking his head, and shoved past Brick as he went back upstairs.
***
After dropping by Robin's room to check in on her sister, Bubbles went back to the upstairs living room to find that Truth or Dare had been tossed aside in favor of Rock Band. Buttercup was belting out tunes with the No Neck Joe guys rounding out the rest of the band, and the room was singing along with her. Only Boomer was silent, perched on the edge of the couch and smiling thinly at the exuberant crowd.
When she sat next to him his smile broadened and he gave her a kiss. Then they held hands and watched while the room finished the song in various degrees of non-harmony.
“Go sing with them,” she said, and he blinked at her in shock.
“What?”
“Go on. It's okay. Go sing. Have fun.”
“You're... not worried about-”
“You can handle Him, Boomer,” Bubbles said. “And come on. If it makes you that miserable not to, then you should. If that makes sense.”
His smile illuminated the room, and he kissed her on the cheek before leaping up to snatch the microphone away. Bubbles drew her knees up to her chest and watched him, a possessive pride swelling in her as he started to sing. Even so, it was hard to keep the smile on her face.
One of these days, Him would come for Boomer. She was sure of it. So it didn't matter how much he sang or played. Boomer was already in danger. Any day now. It had been years since he'd first asked. Five? Six? It could be another five years. It could be tomorrow.
She watched Boomer sing his heart out and nail every note, his enthusiasm contagious, infecting the room. One of these days, Him would come, and He would try to take that away.
Let Him come, Bubbles thought, her face hardening for a second, for one brief moment where she forgot to keep it inside, to herself. He can bring it. Let Him try.
She focused on Boomer's bright expression, on that happy smile, and summoned up a cheer. Let Him come, she thought again. Her hands tensed, gripping the cushion of the couch. He won't take Boomer from me. I won't let Him. I swear to God, I swear, if He lays a hand on Boomer, if He so much as touches a single hair on his head, I swear I will make Him regret it.
***
This was a mistake.
Brick claimed one last soda for the road and was just about to head for the door when a sudden cacophony of noise exploded downstairs, followed by a small train of people that entered the kitchen screeching AC/DC at the top of their lungs, Bubbles, Buttercup, and Boomer among them.
“You!” Buttercup snatched a pan off the rack and aimed it at Brick. “Shook me aaaaallllll night long!”
Boomer cut in, twirling Bubbles around. “You really took me when you-”
The upstairs crowd jumped in with a collective “Whoo!”
“Shook me aaaaallllll night long!” the small group in the kitchen continued, Brick trapped amongst them.
God, why do I let people talk me into going to these things? he thought balefully, and then spotted Blossom floating down the stairs and opening the front door as she exchanged her goodbyes with Robin.
His eyes widened and he pushed forward, but Buttercup was still brandishing the pan in front of him, plus there were about five other people behind her and not enough room to fly over-
He steeled himself and muscled past them, bowling over a few other people in his desperate bid for the front door. Blossom had long since disappeared.
He flung it open, stumbled outside, and looked up and down the street. She was nowhere to be seen.
He heard a front door slam and looked to his left, spotting the Powerpuff Girls' home right next door. His exhale was heavy, defeated, and his shoulders slumped as the weight of his missed opportunity sank in.
Three long circles of light suddenly pooled in the street, and Brick's eye was drawn to one, where he could see Blossom's silhouette. Alone in the front yard, Brick stared at it, wondering for the first time that evening what he had wanted to say to her. Nothing. He could think of nothing, and yet, he had wanted to say... wanted to...
Why bother?
He stared at that oval of light, at that silhouette. Then he tore his eyes from it, trudged down the walkway, and pointed himself homeward. Soon enough he had ventured so far from the party that even with superhearing, no matter how hard he strained, he couldn't hear it at all.
-end Ch. 9-
Originally posted at http://essbeejay.dreamwidth.org/106966.html.
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
part 5
Title: More Than Human
Chapter 9: Monday Broke My Heart, or Everybody Knows You Cried Last Night
Pairing: RrB/PpG
Rating: R/M, because they're teenagers and a good handful of them use terrible, filthy language.
Disclaimer: Pay your respect to Craig, not me.
Summary: There is no way I can make this sound original, ever. My attempt to write a believable RrB/PpG in high school fic. Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal. - Camus
Notes: Thanks to mathkid and juxtaposie who are the best. Around. Nothing's ever gonna keep 'em down.
More Than Human, Pt. 2 - Senior Fall Semester
September - Monday Broke My Heart, or Everybody Knows You Cried Last Night
-sbj-
The doorbell buzzed, and Bubbles looked up from the vanity. Boomer was early...
She dashed down before the Professor could emerge from the lab-she had just finished getting ready-and opened the door.
“Hey,” she started, surprised. “You're ahead of-”
Boomer took her face in his hands and kissed her, hard. She suppressed a gasp, then, after a second, patted his arm.
As he pulled away, she blinked and whispered, “What-what's wrong?”
Boomer's face was conflicted; he looked as if he were somewhere between going on a rampage or maybe bursting into tears. His gaze was fixated on their feet, and he gulped, still touching her face and stroking her cheek.
“I love you,” he breathed, still unable to look her in the eye, and her heart stilled. She heard shuffling coming from the lab; the Professor was moving up the stairs, and she maneuvered them outside and shut the front door behind her as they took off.
They flew aimlessly-they'd talked about going to see a movie tonight, but it didn't seem like Boomer was in the mood-until finally Bubbles touched down at the docks, deserted on Friday evenings, with Boomer's hand in hers.
“Bold of you, to kiss me like that with my dad there,” she said, smiling at him.
Boomer stared at their clasped hands. “Yeah.”
After a long moment she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and drew up close to him. “Hey.” She ruffled his hair, and finally he looked up at her. “Is everything okay?”
“I mean that,” he blurted, swallowing again.
She smiled. “I know.”
“I really... I love-”
She pecked him on the corner of his mouth. “I know.”
His arms went around her waist and he pulled her close. “He... he wants me to break up with you.”
She snorted as she hugged him back. “Brick doesn't strike me as the sensitive type.”
“He doesn't get it,” Boomer whispered, his grip tightening.
“Something tells me Brick's not going to get a lot of things,” Bubbles said cheerfully. Like a girlfriend.
“He was saying... saying that I let you rule my life, that I'm too... too into you, or something...”
She could hear the franticness in his voice, how he was struggling for words, trying to make sense of it by saying it out loud. She kissed his shoulder, trying to calm him down.
Boomer barreled on, unable to stop. “He just... he doesn't understand. He doesn't know. He doesn't know how... how I feel when I'm with you, how you make everything else just not... matter.”
The faint smile that had appeared on her face-an attempt at lightheartedness, at diffusing his almost panicked state-faded. Boomer clung to her, and all she could do was hold him and listen.
“Brick keeps-he has plans, and great, so he's got plans, for him and me and Butch, and I... I just, I always go along with him, because he's my brother and the leader and it's not like I've got anywhere I want to go or anything I want to do, so I might as well, right?” His hands drifted down her back, clenched around her even tighter. “But this... I want this. I want you. You're like... you're the only thing I've ever wanted, and I mean, really wanted, in a way that makes me...” He took a shuddering inhale and shook his head. She waited, her heart numb at this, at hearing all of this...
“That makes me not care about anything else,” he said, and her breath left her; she wanted to kiss him, she wanted to hold him and kiss him forever. “And he should let me have it! Because it's the only thing that makes me feel... I mean... you know, Brick's the boss, and he's got the brains, and Butch is the psycho, or whatever you want to call it, and he's got the muscle, but I've got nothing. I've never had anything. I'm just the fucking runt, the clown, I don't do anything, they don't need me for anything...”
“Shh,” she whispered, petting his hair. “Boomer, don't-”
“No, it's true,” he said heatedly. “I've never had anything that was really mine. I mean, even my... even my music thing...” He trailed off, his grip on her loosening.
“Boomer?” she said, her voice quiet.
He pulled away from her, his eyes downcast. He shook his head again, stepping back. “And that's something even you won't let me have, just because I made a deal with Him for it, and it's like, you don't think I can take care of myself or make my own decisions-”
“Boomer, no!”
“And it's just like Brick! Neither of you want me to do things on my own-”
“That's not it-”
“You don't trust me, you guys don't think I can handle Him, or a girlfriend-”
He wasn't looking at her. He was staring at the ground, his expression growing more upset by the second, and Bubbles grabbed his face and tilted it towards hers, pressing their foreheads together.
“Stop,” she said. “Stop, for a second. Okay?”
Boomer swallowed, then sighed, closing his eyes and reaching a hand up to grasp one of her wrists. As Bubbles pulled him in for a tight hug, she mulled over everything he'd just said, trying to dissect it, analyze it. She hadn't realized how much of a little boy Boomer was, how much he bought into this idea that he was the dumb one who couldn't do anything, to the point where he assumed everyone thought that of him and resented them for it. It made her sad, that he felt that. She kissed him, her mouth soft, trying to offer him some form of comfort.
Boomer pulled away again. “I,” he started, then looked her in the eye. “I think... I think I should tell you something.”
***
“Auuuugh!” Buttercup stood outside of the theater and flapped her hands as she shook out her nerves. “Holy shit! Holy shit, that was freaky.”
“Yeah, fuck driving home alone,” Mitch said with a shudder. “Harry, come on. I'll give you a ride home. Fuck, I'll even sleep over at your place tonight.”
“Like hell you will,” Harry said in mock disgust.
“You guys don't wanna do anything else?” Butch asked.
“Well, I don't know about you, but I sure as hell don't want to be getting home at two AM or nothing tonight,” Buttercup said. “My sleep's going to be fucked up enough as it is.”
Mitch lifted an eyebrow. “More so than when you saw The Grudge?”
“Oh, fuck that movie!” Buttercup cried, laughing. “That was cruel! Putting that bitch in the bed?! Bed's supposed to be one place you're safe!”
Mitch laughed and said to Butch, “She kept me up on the phone for weeks after we saw that-she refused to fall asleep without talking to someone-”
Buttercup kicked Mitch in the shin. “Mitch! Go to hell!”
“Oh my God, that reminds me of the best Halloween costume ever,” Lloyd said.
“The year we did The Ring? Holy crap, yes!” The rest of the group, sans Butch, broke into laughter.
“What was so funny about that?” he asked.
Buttercup swept her hair into her face and said, “Back then I had long hair, so I just, you know, draped it so it covered my face. Dressed up like the ghost chick, and the guys got all made up like they were my victims. Then we just trekked all over Townsville and stood in elevators, waiting for people to get on.” She cackled as the rest of the guys laughed. “Ugh, it was awesome! People were freaking the fuck out! The doors would open, and they'd see the guys lying on the ground all blue and dead with those crazy fucked up expressions, and I'd just be standing there in the middle of it all-we got kicked out of so many hotels that night.”
“I think we're permanently banned from a few of them,” Floyd said.
Butch gave a good-natured laugh. “Sorry I missed that.”
“We gotta think up something good for this year,” Harry said, rubbing his hands together.
The group voiced their assent, and after recounting some of their less successful Halloween exploits they went their separate ways. Butch and Buttercup lingered, waving as the guys split for their respective cars.
Butch looked at Buttercup. “You going to Robin's party tomorrow?”
“Yeah, we live right next door. She's, like, one of our best friends, besides. You?”
“Yeah. I mean, probably.”
“I guess I'll see you there, then,” she said, and held up a hand. “See you.”
As she turned and took a few steps before preparing to take off, Butch said, “You don't want an escort home?”
“Huh?”
He sneered at her. “Make sure the ghosties don't get you?”
“Oh, fuck you!” She laughed, beginning to hover. Butch did likewise and started to trail after her.
“I mean, just to be safe!” he called.
“Like I'm any safer with you!”
But she didn't tell him to go home, all the same.
***
Bubbles paced, feeling Boomer's eyes on her. He sat on the edge of the docks, his legs dangling over the water, and didn't seem to like the distressed look on her face. He turned his eyes back to his knees.
She took a deep breath and finally said, “What... what kind of... 'jobs' do you do?”
He looked at her, his mouth compressed into a thin line, and she closed her eyes and covered her face. “No. Don't tell me. Don't. I don't want to know, actually.” He'd told her everything except that. Well, she assumed everything. She couldn't know for sure. But Boomer had seemed so sincere. Besides, why would he make something like this up?
“You-you're not going to break up with me, are you?” he asked, and she looked up to see him twisting towards her, his face mirroring the panic she'd heard in his voice.
She bit her lip and sighed, then sat next to him. As she leaned her head on his shoulder and reached for his hands, she whispered, “No.” He sighed in relief, and she brushed her hand along his, again and again.
She cleared her throat, then asked, “But... are you guys... done? Do you have to go back and do... more?”
Boomer hesitated, squeezing her hand before answering. “I... I have to help Brick out with something.”
“When?”
“Like... in four years.”
She sat up in shock. “'Four years?' That long?”
He nodded. She blinked at him before slumping again, not leaning on him this time.
“He's my brother,” Boomer said. “I... I need to help him.”
“What does he-no, wait, never mind.” She buried her head in her arms. “I don't want to hear it.”
She could feel Boomer tensing beside her. “But after that I'm done. Forever. I'll come back here.”
She lifted her head just enough to rest her chin on her arms. “Four years is a long time, Boomer.”
“I know it sounds long, but... but I'll come back,” he finished lamely. Then, in a stronger voice, “I swear.”
The conviction in his voice touched her, and she glanced at him. At the look she gave him his steely expression crumpled. “Please don't fall in love with someone else when I'm gone.”
She couldn't help it; she gave a little laugh.
“I mean it!” he cried, pleading.
“Just...” she whispered, laying a hand on his. “Just don't... don't do anything bad. Anything else bad. While you're here.” She leaned in a little. “I want to see you be a good person. I need to know you can be.”
He nodded fervently, resolutely. “I can. Anything.”
She gave him a small kiss. Then she leaned on his shoulder, staring off into the sky. Four years. They'd barely been together a couple of months. She didn't know him, not really. They didn't know each other.
He turned his face into her hair. “Promise me you won't fall in love with someone else, Bubbles?”
I don't know, she thought to herself, trying to be realistic. I don't know what I can promise.
“Please,” he whispered. “I love you.”
That was true, though. In this moment, here, she loved him back, despite everything he'd told her. That made it a little easier.
“I won't,” she said, and it wasn't a lie. “I promise.”
He sighed against her in relief, and she wove an arm around his waist.
“Hey,” she said, and he pulled back to look at her. “Next month. Boomer... will you go to Homecoming with me?”
He blinked at her, dazed, then broke into a delirious, happy smile.
***
Blossom stared out of their bedroom window and heaved a sigh. That Saturday morning, Robin had chalked a message on their driveway, huge and easily readable from a mile above. It singled Blossom out.
REMEMBER! PARTY STARTS AT SEVEN! DON'T BE LATE, BLOSSOM!!!!
“She is such a dork,” Bubbles said, giggling as she drifted by the window.
Blossom looked at her. “You almost done?”
Bubbles fluffed her hair. “Blow-dried and dressed and just about ready to go! Going to drop by Boomer's first.”
“Why doesn't he just meet you over...” Blossom trailed off. Bubbles had snatched a pair of haircutting shears from the vanity.
“I want to go give Boomer a trim before the party-”
A bolt of pink zipped to Bubbles' side and grabbed at the back pocket she had stuffed the shears into.
“I can't let you do that,” Blossom said, her expression grave.
“Huh?”
“Has Boomer seen what happens when you get a pair of scissors in your hands?” Blossom had no ties to Boomer, but on a moral level she could not allow him to be dealt the cruel fate that she had faced at her sisters' hands.
“Oh, Blossom, that was years ago!”
“Do you cut your own hair, Bubbles?”
“Of course not, I can't see the back.” Bubbles tried to wave her away. “Now let off, he's waiting-”
“I cannot stand by while such a heinous deed is about to be committed,” Blossom said.
“Ugh, fine.” Bubbles grasped her wrist. “You come with me, then, and do it yourself.”
“Wait-what? What? That wasn't what I meant!” Blossom cried, but by then Bubbles had already thrown open one of the windows and catapulted the both of them into the air.
***
“Um.” Boomer blinked at a less-than-thrilled Blossom as Bubbles tied a towel around his neck. “Why the change in plans?”
“You want a haircut, not a butchering, right?” Blossom asked, and Bubbles pouted at her.
“I just want a trim,” he clarified, leaning into Bubbles' hand as it drifted across his cheek. They were situated in the dining area of the boys' apartment, having pushed the table and chairs off to the side. Blossom had looked uncomfortable at first, but she'd squared her shoulders and refused to let the setting get to her. She was the mature one, after all.
“Brick already left, you said?” Bubbles asked him, her eyes on her sister. Blossom started to examine his hair.
“Went for a drive not long ago,” Boomer said. The scissors began to snip around his head. “Um... do you cut hair often, Blossom?”
“I cut the Professor's occasionally, but that's it.”
“She cut Buttercup's hair, once,” Bubbles added. “She's handy with the scissors.”
Suddenly a key turned in the lock, and the three of them looked over to see Brick entering the apartment. Bubbles winced, her gaze darting to Blossom. Blossom shot down the panic that rose in her throat and kept her expression stoic.
“Brick!” Boomer said, surprised. “Back already?”
“I forgot-” Brick looked up, his eyes catching on Blossom. “Something.” After a second, he cleared his throat and said, “Um, what are you guys doing here?”
“Giving Boomer a haircut,” Blossom said stiffly, before either of the blonds could respond. She resumed snipping. “Don't trust Bubbles with scissors, which led to me getting manhandled into doing it.”
“I didn't manhandle you!”
“Brick,” Boomer said, a little roughly. He made sure Brick saw him reaching for Bubbles' hand; she let him grasp her. “Haven't you been talking about getting a haircut, too?”
Bubbles kicked him, and he looked at her in shock. “Ow!”
“Careful,” Blossom reprimanded. “Jerk around like that and you're going to wind up with a lot more hair missing.”
“He's been talking about getting his hair cut!”
“Not the time, Boomer,” Bubbles hissed through gritted teeth.
“If you want a haircut, Brick, give me a minute and I'll be done with Boomer's.”
Bubbles gaped at Blossom. Brick swallowed, unnerved by the forced neutrality of her tone.
“Do you want one or not? I'm already over here with scissors, anyway.”
Forced contact might be good, he thought. He might get over this quicker, then.
Within five minutes Boomer was dusting the loose clippings from his hair while Brick settled in the chair. Blossom shook out the towel and tied it around his neck rather mechanically; he expected to feel the tingle of her hands brushing along his neck but no such luck. She then pushed the cap off his head, into his lap. He stared at it as she wet her hand in a bowl of water and combed it through his hair. His chest lurched at the contact despite her brusque movements, and he clenched his fists underneath the towel.
“How short do you want it?” she asked.
“Short,” he said. “Short.”
Bubbles leaned against the wall, cocking her head to study him. Boomer had retreated to his room to change. “Close to the head would be good, Blossom.”
“Alright, then,” Blossom said, and snipped off the hair gathered at the nape of Brick's neck. “Say bye to your mullet, Brick.”
“Wh-I did not have a mullet!” Brick snapped, his discomfort forgotten.
Blossom grunted as she shook his hair out and began cutting.
Brick scowled for a while, irritated by the snide remark. Eventually, though, it faded, and he was only aware of her hands, drifting around his head, skirting the nape of his neck and his scalp as she snipped away.
Within minutes Bubbles was smiling. “Looking good.”
“I'm a pro,” Blossom said quietly, then came around to the front. “Just gotta do your bangs.”
And then she was there staring right at him, and he tensed, trying not to stare back. She may as well not have been looking at him, though. Her eyes seemed to barely skim the crown of his head; hell, she almost seemed to be looking past him. At first he'd averted his eyes, but, after getting the dim sensation that he wasn't really being looked at anyway, his gaze gradually slid back up. Her expression was flat, unchanging. She merely gathered up what remained of his too-long hair, closed the shears on the strands, then went about evening them out.
“There.” She lifted his cap, blew some loose hair off of it, and thumped it back on his head. Brick stared at the orange clippings on the floor, then angled his head to watch as she... left.
“See you guys at the party,” she said, and the sound of the door slamming almost stung. After a moment, a numb Brick tugged the towel off. Bubbles was sweeping up the floor.
“Are you going, Brick?” she asked, and he wadded up the towel into a ball.
“I...” In truth, he hadn't been planning on it. Well, in truth truth, he had been planning on it, but then last Saturday and... yeah.
But she wasn't being hugely emotional about it. She seemed to have taken it okay, even if she was being a little cold. It was better than tears and screaming. Maybe he could just talk to her. Tonight. Maybe.
“Yeah,” he said, standing up and scratching his neck. “Yeah, I'm going.”
***
“She cut your hair?!” Butch grabbed Boomer and shook him. “Why didn't you call me?!”
Boomer tossed his brother off, and a few of the other partygoers dodged him as they made their way up Robin's walkway. “I didn't know she was going to cut my hair! Besides, what the hell, you were out already getting your own haircut!”
“Which does look sharp, if I may say so,” Buttercup volunteered.
“I like yours too, Buttercup,” Bubbles said, playing with the shortened black strands. Buttercup made a noise and swatted her away.
Butch looked on the verge of tears. Buttercup patted him on the shoulder. “Oh, Butch. It's not like Blossom would've willingly touched you anyway.”
Butch moaned. Bubbles peered at a grocery bag he had with him. “What's that for?”
He snapped to and shielded it from the rest of them. “'S a surprise.”
Buttercup's gaze hardened. “This is a friend's house. If you're going to try anything-”
“It's not going to fuck up Robin's house, I swear. It's not targeted at her.”
“'Targeted?'” Before Buttercup could press the issue, she spotted Brick approaching. “Hey! You got your hair cut, too?”
“Yeah, Blossom did his, too,” Bubbles said.
Butch's jaw dropped as Brick passed them and grunted.
“I hate my brothers,” Butch whined. “I hate you both so very, very much.”
***
Brick ran into Julie and Mike, and made small talk with them in the kitchen while he kept his eyes peeled for Blossom. He didn't want to actively go looking for her just yet. It was a party. Nobody was in a hurry.
“Brick, have you heard about the photos yet?” Julie asked, jarring his attention.
“Huh?”
“For Modern Girl.”
“Oh... no,” he said, grabbing a can of soda and popping it open.
“I'll bet that was something,” Mike said. “I heard from Bubbles that they had these ridiculous costumes-”
Julie groaned. “Oh, Lord, don't remind me.”
“They were terrible,” Brick agreed, his eyes suddenly drawn to the flash of orange-red hair in the dining room.
“Oh, Brick, I didn't even notice you got a haircut!” Julie pointed at the nape of his neck. “Usually you keep your hair pulled back. Take off your cap and let us see?”
Brick merely shifted his cap back on his head.
She rolled her eyes. “Brick.”
“I took my cap off, I just did it at a speed too fast for normal human beings to see,” he said, eyes wandering to the dining room. Red bow. It was Blossom.
Julie turned her attention to Mike. “So,” she said playfully, nodding in the direction of the dining room. “Care to explain why Robin is wearing your letter jacket?”
“She was cold,” Mike said.
“Right. How long has-”
“Excuse me,” Brick said, and moved for the dining room. Blossom and Robin had just disappeared around the corner. He reached the doorway and lingered, watching them climb the steps to the second story, and, once they were out of sight, he trailed after them. Robin had led Blossom to a second living area upstairs, where Butch, Buttercup, and the rest of their friends plus a few others were gathered in a circle, laughing.
As Brick reached the second story landing Robin dashed by him to what looked like her bedroom. Blossom was resting against the banister, but when she saw Brick she instantly took off after Robin and shut the door.
Brick stared, speechless.
***
The smile on Buttercup's face dissolved as she watched Brick turn and trudge back down the stairs. Mike bounded in past him and joined the group, sitting cross-legged next to Mitch and the twins. “Are you kidding me?!” he laughed, pointing at the empty bottle in the center. “Spin the Bottle? What are you guys, like, twelve?!”
“It's not Spin the Bottle, it's Truth or Dare,” Bubbles clarified from the corner, where she and Boomer were lounging on the couch, chatting with some friends from Choir.
“Oh, so you guys are, what, thirteen instead of twelve tonight,” Mike amended, snickering.
“Miiiiiike,” Boomer jeered. “Why is Robin wearing your letter jacket?”
The room Oohed and whistled in response.
Mike bit his lip to suppress his grin. “Because she's coooooold.”
“Riiiiiiiiight.” Mitch rolled his eyes. “You in or what?”
Mike dove for a bowl of popcorn. “What're the rules?”
Buttercup chimed in. “No stripping, no Frenching, no groping, no-”
“Well, the hell with this,” Mike said, and made as if to go.
“That's what I said!” Butch exclaimed.
“Let's get Robin back in here and he'll stay,” Kim said.
“And no flashing,” Buttercup finished. “That's it.”
“Okay, well, come on.” Mike settled in. “Whose spin is it?”
“Bobby, go,” Kim said, moving from the couch to sit next to her boyfriend in the circle. Bobby spun the bottle, where it eventually stopped on Butch to scattered applause and catcalls.
Butch spread his arms wide open. “Dare. Bring it on, fucker.”
“Kiss the hottest person in the room.”
“Oh, please, that is so unoriginal!” Harry groaned, and a number of other folks voiced their assent.
“Damn!” Butch looked distraught. “Blossom was just here!”
“I thought there wasn't any kissing!” Mary cried.
“No Frenching,” Bobby corrected.
“Double damn,” Butch said.
“Just so you know, I don't want you choosing me, Butch,” Boomer announced. “I mean, I am pretty hot and all, but that's just sick.”
Buttercup raised her hand. “Excuse me. I would pay good money to see that happen.”
“I'm in Buttercup's camp on this one,” Kim added, raising her hand as well.
“Me too,” another girl said.
“Same,” said another voice.
“I'm very susceptible to peer pressure,” Mary said, raising her hand.
“Count me in,” Bubbles said, and at the horrified look Boomer gave her she shrugged. “Why not?”
“I'd rather kiss Brick than you,” Butch sniped at Boomer.
“Holy crap, I'd pay twice as much to see that happen!” Buttercup shouted, raising both hands, and the rest of the girls whooped and hollered.
“Brick!” Bubbles screamed. “Where are you? Get up here!”
“No no no, fuck you all!” Butch cried, standing up. “I'm gonna choose now!”
“If Brick gets in here you're kissing him!” Buttercup ordered.
“Shut up, I'm choosing!” Butch announced, and the room went quiet as he scanned it. His gaze swept from one end of the room to the other, lingering on Harry, and as soon as the room started cheering he laughed and shook his head.
“You wish,” he said, and skipped over Buttercup to the other corner. He swept his eyes back around the room a couple of times, drawing the room's ire.
“Dude! Pick already!”
“If you can't pick the hottest, pick the least ugly one.”
“That's impossible,” he sneered, his gaze skipping once more over Buttercup. Then it came back, shifting between her and Harry, and Buttercup felt the smile on her face start to fade.
He's not serious, she thought to herself, starting to panic. He's not-
“Hey, what are you guys up to?” Julie appeared in the doorway, and everyone, Butch included, turned to look at her. “It got all quiet in here!”
Butch clasped his hands and made praying motions to Heaven. “Saved!” he sang, and Buttercup exhaled.
Butch stepped over to Julie and pointed at the can in her hands. “Whatcha drinking?”
She glanced from him to the soda. “Oh, just-”
He then grasped her by the chin and tilted her face up for a kiss. Julie's eyes went wide and her shoulders stiffened; Buttercup didn't realize until Butch let go just how tense her own shoulders were.
Butch licked his lips thoughtfully. “Cherry soda.” He winked at Julie as he sat down, and as Buttercup stared furtively at him it seemed to her that he was avoiding meeting her eyes.
Julie blinked, still a little shocked. “Okay, I guess I just walked in on the Kiss Random People Game?”
“Truth or Dare,” Bubbles corrected.
Julie laughed. “Seriously? Are we all in middle school or something?”
“Thank you,” Mike said.
“My turn!” Butch spun the bottle with a flourish, and the room watched until it finally landed pointed squarely at Buttercup. She covered her face and groaned as the rest of the room clapped again.
“Finally!” Butch cried, grabbing at his grocery bag. “I've been waiting for this moment all night!”
“God, of all the people for you to land on,” Buttercup moaned.
“Truth or Dare, Buttercup?” Mitch asked.
“Dare,” she responded.
“Alright!” Butch chortled, beside himself. “Buttercup, you paying attention?!” He dropped a full bag of cherries in her lap.
She stared at it, horror welling up in her gaze as she turned her eyes on him. “No way.”
He adopted a smug, cocky grin. “Do it.”
“No. No way. Oh my God, you're shitting me.”
“Wait, what? What's the dare?” somebody asked.
“Buttercup,” Butch said, “I dare you to tie a knot in every one of those cherry stems with your tongue.”
She glared at him while the rest of the room murmured amongst themselves.
“Butch, is that why you had the cherries?” Bubbles asked. “You got lucky. What were the odds of you daring Buttercup to do that tonight?”
“That's going to take forever,” Mike said. “That's like five pounds of-”
“I'll bet you she can do that whole bag in five minutes or less,” Butch interjected. “Somebody time her.”
“Butch, you fucker,” she said, shaking her head.
“Less talking, more knotting,” he said. “You told me you could do it! Now I wanna see it!”
“Buttercup, is he serious?” Bubbles looked up. “Can you really do that?”
Harry handed her the empty popcorn bowl. “Here. Spit the stems out in this so we can see.”
“You guys, you all just suck,” Buttercup groaned, ripping into the bag.
“Buttercup, if you can do this, I will be in awe of you forever,” Kim said.
“Time her!” Butch crowed. “Somebody!”
Mitch undid his watch and held it up. “Okay, ready?”
With a heavy sigh, Buttercup grabbed a handful of cherries.
“Go!”
The room cheered as she worked the first one, and went into surprised cries of glee after she spit it out perfectly tied in five seconds with the cherry still attached.
“Holy shit, you're kidding me!”
“Unreal!”
She burned through the first handful, then another, then another, and the cheering increased each time she spat a tied stem into the bowl. Halfway through the bag, though, the cheers faded off. The room continued to watch in silence, slack-jawed, as Buttercup worked her way through the rest of the rapidly diminishing bag.
“Dude,” Harry said in wide-eyed awe, watching the pile of tied stems multiply.
“If I had a bunk I would so be in it right now,” Mike whispered.
Butch stared, his smile long gone and his gaze fixated on the movement of Buttercup's jaw as she tied stem after stem. Soon enough she was down to the last cherry-or two cherries, with their stems still connected to each other. She examined them, then popped them into her mouth. Within a few seconds she reached her hand to her lips, extracting the final two cherries from her mouth, and placed them on top of the pile, where everyone could see she had tied a knot in each stem while they were still connected.
She rubbed the back of her hand against her mouth, looked around the room, then fixed her eyes on Mitch and asked, “Time?”
Mitch glanced down. “Four minutes and fifty-five seconds,” he murmured.
“I guess you win that bet, Butch. Now, excuse me.” Buttercup grunted as she rose to her feet. “Before I take my turn I'm going to grab something to drink.”
The room watched in reverential awe as she left the room.
Julie broke the silence. “That girl needs to teach a class or something.”
Bobby latched onto Kim. “Please take that class. Please.”
“I thought that was just a rumor,” Harry hissed to the twins. “I didn't think she seriously had a mutant tongue!”
“Okay, Butch?” Mike tapped his fist against his chest and pointed at him. “Respect. Mad, mad respect for you. Because, holy crap. I mean, holy crap.”
A few of the other guys voiced their hearty thanks to him. Butch, meanwhile, stared at the full bowl, the image of Buttercup's jaw, open wide and with her cheeks slightly sucked in, playing over and over again in his memory.
He suddenly felt a strong, strong craving for cherries.
***
Brick sat on the back porch, watching the gray dusk sky give way to the dark blue of night. He could hear them; most of the party was upstairs playing a party game. Truth or Dare, it sounded like. He nursed can after can of soda as he rocked on the porch swing.
He shouldn't have come. He could tell Blossom still hadn't emerged from Robin's room; her voice was nowhere to be heard in the upstairs chatter. It was dimmer, further away, as if she were whispering very quietly, but even with superhearing Brick couldn't make it out.
He lifted his cap and ran his hand through his hair. It felt nice short. Cooler. He almost wished she had taken more time with it, that she had let her hands linger on his scalp, touch him a little more than was necessary. But that was the wrong wish to have, obviously.
Why did he keep second guessing himself? This was stupid. Things were exactly as they should have been. Brick shouldn't have come to the party to talk to her, he should've just come to the party. He didn't need to go looking for her. There wasn't anything to resolve. He rolled his empty can in his hands, then crushed it and tossed it into a bin nearby.
“You know how many guys she's turned down?”
Brick jumped to his feet and whirled to find Buttercup standing in the doorway, her green eyes shimmering in the dim evening light.
“What?” he said, confused.
“I never really kept track of it. But it's gotta be in the double digits. More than twenty, probably. Can you imagine that? Turning down over twenty guys?” She stepped closer, her voice barely audible and almost threatening. “I mean, that's nuts.”
Brick only stared at her.
“You know,” she started, then stopped, and sighed. “Fuck it, whatever. I hope it's worth it, Brick. By the way, this is a dare.”
Before Brick could respond, Buttercup-blushing, he now realized, visible even in the darkness-took his face in her hands and planted her lips firmly against his.
Suddenly the light switch for the porch flicked on, and the people at the windows erupted into applause. Buttercup let go of him, swiping at her mouth and still red in the face.
“There, it's done,” she announced. “Can we fuck Truth or Dare, now? Get some video games going or something?”
Brick stared after her, stunned. The rest of the people who'd collected at the windows to watch filed back upstairs in her wake. Finally, Brick too went back inside, mulling over the kiss in his head. There had been something about it. Something important. He couldn't quite think of it but it was right there, within his grasp-
He shut the door to find Butch behind it, glowering at him. Brick glanced at him and frowned. “What?”
Butch just stared at him, fuming.
“What, Butch?” Brick sighed.
“You're a fucking dick,” Butch spat, shaking his head, and shoved past Brick as he went back upstairs.
***
After dropping by Robin's room to check in on her sister, Bubbles went back to the upstairs living room to find that Truth or Dare had been tossed aside in favor of Rock Band. Buttercup was belting out tunes with the No Neck Joe guys rounding out the rest of the band, and the room was singing along with her. Only Boomer was silent, perched on the edge of the couch and smiling thinly at the exuberant crowd.
When she sat next to him his smile broadened and he gave her a kiss. Then they held hands and watched while the room finished the song in various degrees of non-harmony.
“Go sing with them,” she said, and he blinked at her in shock.
“What?”
“Go on. It's okay. Go sing. Have fun.”
“You're... not worried about-”
“You can handle Him, Boomer,” Bubbles said. “And come on. If it makes you that miserable not to, then you should. If that makes sense.”
His smile illuminated the room, and he kissed her on the cheek before leaping up to snatch the microphone away. Bubbles drew her knees up to her chest and watched him, a possessive pride swelling in her as he started to sing. Even so, it was hard to keep the smile on her face.
One of these days, Him would come for Boomer. She was sure of it. So it didn't matter how much he sang or played. Boomer was already in danger. Any day now. It had been years since he'd first asked. Five? Six? It could be another five years. It could be tomorrow.
She watched Boomer sing his heart out and nail every note, his enthusiasm contagious, infecting the room. One of these days, Him would come, and He would try to take that away.
Let Him come, Bubbles thought, her face hardening for a second, for one brief moment where she forgot to keep it inside, to herself. He can bring it. Let Him try.
She focused on Boomer's bright expression, on that happy smile, and summoned up a cheer. Let Him come, she thought again. Her hands tensed, gripping the cushion of the couch. He won't take Boomer from me. I won't let Him. I swear to God, I swear, if He lays a hand on Boomer, if He so much as touches a single hair on his head, I swear I will make Him regret it.
***
This was a mistake.
Brick claimed one last soda for the road and was just about to head for the door when a sudden cacophony of noise exploded downstairs, followed by a small train of people that entered the kitchen screeching AC/DC at the top of their lungs, Bubbles, Buttercup, and Boomer among them.
“You!” Buttercup snatched a pan off the rack and aimed it at Brick. “Shook me aaaaallllll night long!”
Boomer cut in, twirling Bubbles around. “You really took me when you-”
The upstairs crowd jumped in with a collective “Whoo!”
“Shook me aaaaallllll night long!” the small group in the kitchen continued, Brick trapped amongst them.
God, why do I let people talk me into going to these things? he thought balefully, and then spotted Blossom floating down the stairs and opening the front door as she exchanged her goodbyes with Robin.
His eyes widened and he pushed forward, but Buttercup was still brandishing the pan in front of him, plus there were about five other people behind her and not enough room to fly over-
He steeled himself and muscled past them, bowling over a few other people in his desperate bid for the front door. Blossom had long since disappeared.
He flung it open, stumbled outside, and looked up and down the street. She was nowhere to be seen.
He heard a front door slam and looked to his left, spotting the Powerpuff Girls' home right next door. His exhale was heavy, defeated, and his shoulders slumped as the weight of his missed opportunity sank in.
Three long circles of light suddenly pooled in the street, and Brick's eye was drawn to one, where he could see Blossom's silhouette. Alone in the front yard, Brick stared at it, wondering for the first time that evening what he had wanted to say to her. Nothing. He could think of nothing, and yet, he had wanted to say... wanted to...
Why bother?
He stared at that oval of light, at that silhouette. Then he tore his eyes from it, trudged down the walkway, and pointed himself homeward. Soon enough he had ventured so far from the party that even with superhearing, no matter how hard he strained, he couldn't hear it at all.
-end Ch. 9-
Originally posted at http://essbeejay.dreamwidth.org/106966.html.