This was going to go up tomorrow...
Interrupting winter to bring you:
More Than Human, ch6
part 1
part 2
Title: More Than Human
Chapter 6: We’ll Still Have The Summer After All, or Permanent Jet Lag, Please Take Me Back
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: mathkid and juxtaposie deserve more credit than they get for how much they help me. Ch. 6 is TEF’s Beach Episode. Yes, you may thank me later.
More Than Human, Pt. 1 - Junior Summer
June - We’ll Still Have The Summer After All, or Permanent Jet Lag, Please Take Me Back
-sbj-
The Professor shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat, glancing at his girls every five seconds. After a good two days spent arguing back and forth about it, a surly Buttercup had conceded to the Professor's wishes and struggled into her wetsuit.
“Too friggin' hot to surf in a wetsuit,” she muttered under her breath when she spotted the Professor glancing at her in the rearview.
“I've seen plenty of people surf in wetsuits in the summer, Buttercup,” he said sternly.
“They've got 3/2 thickness! This one that I've got on is a 5/3! I'm suffocating.” She tugged at the neck of her suit, trying to encourage airflow to her skin.
The Professor refrained from rolling his eyes at her dramatizing. Teenagers.
His eyes flicked to Blossom, seated next to a struggling Buttercup in the back. He bit his lip. Blossom was conservative about her body by nature, and, in addition to her sensible black one-piece, had an ankle-length wraparound skirt on, a light hoodie covering up her top and a wide-brimmed hat. He had absolutely nothing to complain about.
Except-and he recognized this, as a father-Blossom could be wearing a full-body potato sack underneath several layers of ski gear and boys would still gawk at her. She was a very, very pretty girl.
There was no way he'd ever say this out loud, but sometimes the Professor wished she were uglier. Not a lot, just enough to, you know, repel interest from boys. That was reasonable, right?
He sighed and looked at Bubbles, next to him in the front seat. She was wearing knee length shorts and a t-shirt over a sky blue one-piece. She had smiled innocently at him prior to getting in the car.
He had been instantly suspicious.
But a thorough search of her bag had produced no hidden bikini tops or two pieces. The worst thing she had on was a pair of ribbon strap wedges...
The Professor pulled into the beach parking lot, and Bubbles leaned forward in her seat.
“I see them! The boys are here!”
“No boys,” the Professor automatically said.
Bubbles laughed it off. “Oh, Professor, we're at the beach! There are boys everywhere.”
“Then we're going back home,” he announced, shifting into reverse and giving the car some gas.
He didn't budge. He was also, he suddenly noted, a good four feet above the ground. Buttercup had immediately jumped out of the car when they'd first pulled up and was now holding the car up off the asphalt.
“Professor,” she said reproachfully. “Seriously.”
Their father pouted, and the wheels slowly stopped spinning in the air as he took his foot off the accelerator. Buttercup set them down, and her sisters exited the car, shouldering their bags as she unstrapped her board from the top of the car.
“You girls behave,” the Professor said, eyes a little fearful. The girls all sighed.
“Yes, Professor.”
“No going off alone with boys.”
“Yes, Professor.” (Bubbles mumbled, so nobody could be quite sure exactly what she'd said.)
“No... you know, beach blanket bingo or anything like that.”
Buttercup made a face. “What? What is that? How old are you, again?”
“Not under my watch, Professor,” Blossom said stoutly, her expression serious.
“Bingo? What's so bad about bingo?” Bubbles wondered, tilting her head and pursing her lips in thought.
“There's a good chance I won't be able to pick you girls up on account of work-”
“Professor,” Buttercup sighed, exasperated. “We'll fly home. No big deal. We're big girls now.”
His lower lip trembled as he looked at them. Buttercup was right. When had they gotten so big?
“I know. But I still love you,” the Professor said, sniffling.
The girls shifted uncomfortably. He kept doing this a lot, lately...
They each leaned in, in turn, to peck him on the cheek. “Love you too, Professor,” they said in unison.
A teary-eyed Professor drove away, the girls waving after him. Bubbles continued to do so long after he was out of sight. Buttercup and Blossom waited until their sister had finally lowered her hand.
“He's gone,” Bubbles said, a little sadly.
“Yep,” Buttercup agreed. “Ready?”
Bubbles whipped off her t-shirt and shorts as Buttercup covered her with her towel.
Blossom sputtered, “W-What are you-”
Bubbles emerged from the towel bikini-clad with her one piece in hand. Granted, as bikinis went it was very cute and modest, but-
“What are you doing?!” Blossom clamored. “And-and where were you hiding that?!”
“Stuffed in the pockets of my shorts,” Bubbles explained, putting on a pair of sunglasses and covering Buttercup with the towel now. Buttercup reappeared in what had originally been Bubbles' t-shirt and shorts.
Blossom noted the strings of what appeared to be another bikini top poking out from under her shirt collar.
“You too, Buttercup?”
“I'm not wearing a wetsuit in this weather,” Buttercup grumbled with a faint blush dusting her cheeks. She rolled her suit up and stuffed it into Blossom's bag. “Let's go!”
Buttercup and Bubbles went flying into the air across the beach, laughing and hollering to grab their friends' attention. Blossom trailed after her sisters in a more subdued manner.
Brick's not here, she noted as she scanned the beach. Not that it mattered. Not really.
***
Butch kept slapping Boomer around with his surfboard and trying to steal his sunglasses. It wasn't like it hurt, but it was getting kind of annoying, and Boomer was glad when the girls arrived because it distracted Butch. Also Bubbles looked ridiculously adorable in her swimsuit.
She beamed at them (mostly him, he noticed with a smug grin). “Hey guys!” He was then treated to a drool-inducing view of her swimsuit-clad back as she turned and waved at Mike, who was setting up around the fire pit amidst more of their friends. A number of them waved back.
“Hey yourself,” he said admiringly, and was delighted when she looked back at him and blushed.
“Yo. Been out there yet?” Buttercup asked Butch, tossing her head at the ocean.
“Nope.” He sneered. “Waitin' for you to come so I got someone to upstage when I do.”
She rolled her eyes. “Riiiiiight.”
Blossom glanced furtively up and down the beach, trying to look inconspicuous.
“Hey,” Bubbles said, looking around. “Where's Brick? Did he not come?”
Butch snorted. “Naw, he's here. Wandering around the beach, all 'dark and lonely as a cloud,' or some shit like that.”
“Language,” Blossom mumbled under her breath as she dug around in her bag.
Boomer kept staring at Bubbles and grinning. “You're looking mighty cute today.”
Bubbles took off her sunglasses to look at him properly. “Thank you,” she said, sheepish.
“Shoot. I forgot my sunglasses,” Blossom muttered. Bubbles immediately held hers out to her sister, never once breaking eye contact with Boomer. “Oh, thanks Bubbles.”
“Don't mention it,” she said dimly.
“Well, I'll see you guys later,” Blossom said. “I'm going to go read-”
“Wait, what?” Butch, who'd been doodling something crude in the sand, looked a little put out. “You come to the beach and you're going to read?”
“Let her be,” Buttercup said dismissively, adding to Butch's handiwork by digging into the sand with her board. “She's got a favorite spot and everything. Can't talk her out of it.”
Blossom caught sight of what Butch and Buttercup were up to and iced over.
“What in God’s name are you two drawing?”
Butch and Buttercup instantly kicked sand over the lewd picture they’d just scrawled.
“Nuthin’,” they muttered in unison.
Blossom shot them a look of disgust and took off towards the north end of the beach.
“I think she just took off with my sunglasses,” Bubbles said, still staring at Boomer.
“Here.” He slid his off and extended them to her, his blue eyes twinkling. “You can use mine.”
“Oh, Blossom, I hate to see you leave, but I sure do love to watch you go,” Butch said in a strangled little voice.
“I heard that!” Blossom’s irritated cry rang back over the sound of crashing waves.
“Good!” Butch bellowed back. “Because I think you’re HOT and-”
“Hey, Casanova, cool it for a second.” Buttercup snatched up her board and pointed at the sea. “We’ve got some nice waves coming in.”
“Hm, Hot Girl vs. Nice Waves isn’t really what I’d call a contest-Hey!” Buttercup had grabbed his board and hurled it like a javelin into the middle of the ocean. With a gleeful cackle she spun off after it, aiming her board for the water.
“That stupid…” Butch continued muttering under his breath as he took off after her. Bubbles and Boomer remained firmly entrenched in their own little world.
“… So, do you want ‘em or not?”
Bubbles blinked. “Huh?”
He held up the sunglasses in his hand. “These?”
“Oh!” Blushing, Bubbles gingerly plucked them from his hand. “Um, thank you.” The cute little way he kept grinning at her was, for some crazy reason, making her all kinds of shy, so she turned away a little as she tried to put them on.
“I guess it’s just us two, huh?” Boomer said conversationally, indicating their absent siblings with a look and a shrug.
“Yeah, I guess… whoops!” The sunglasses she’d been fumbling with slipped back down her face and hit the sand. She started giggling and blushing again. Augh, she had to stop doing that! “They’re too big for me,” she laughed apologetically as she picked them up. “Here. You should have them back.”
He was still looking at her with that goofy grin on his face, even as he took his glasses back and fitted them over his own eyes.
“If you say so.”
She meant to do something other than blush more, giggle like an idiot, and turn away, but she wasn’t doing well with coherent thinking. She blushed, giggled, and turned away.
With her back to him, Bubbles could imagine any number of scenarios taking place, and all of them started with Boomer coming up behind her, brushing her hair back, and whispering in a soft, gentle voice-
“I like your swimsuit.”
She turned to see him still situated a respectable distance away and entertained a brief twinge of disappointment before she had the sense to stop herself.
There wasn't anything wrong with flirting. She knew that. Even though all it was really doing was making the impending heartbreak that much more miserable. The boys were leaving next week. But it made Bubbles happy to talk to Boomer. No matter how small the happiness, she'd take it. In moderation, of course.
She tossed her head back at the group by the fire pit. “Let's go see what they're up to.”
***
The wind whipped Brick's open shirt around him as he walked.
It wasn’t a habit of Brick’s to advertise things he liked, save for solitude, but that was a dead giveaway since he had a tendency to issue death glares at anyone who got within five feet of him. He liked movement, too, at least when he wasn’t thinking about things like coups and plans and his future. So he was very much enjoying his solitary stroll along the beach, the sound of the crashing waves a perfect backdrop against his clear, currently non-scheming mind. The faint knowledge that soon he and his brothers would be returning “home” and he could get back on with the couping and the planning and the scheming filled him with nothing short of excited anticipation. He liked all those things.
He also liked pretty girls, even if he wasn't keen on their attention all the time. The weather was gorgeous, and the pretty girls were out in full force. He liked to think he was perusing a Girl Museum-no touching, just looking.
At least until the temptation was too strong to ignore.
Eventually the sand gave way to a giant pile of jagged, sun-bleached rocks, blocking the path further along the beach. It went on for what looked like another twenty feet before it became sand again.
Just beyond that he could see one of his particular favorite varieties of girl, settling on a sand dune-a demurely seated, pretty little thing wrapped in a long skirt and a large, floppy sun hat. What really did him in was the copy of Camus' The Stranger in her hands.
The hat was simultaneously masking most of her face and blocking him from her view. He thought it only polite to go and introduce himself.
He floated over, quickly and quietly, and hovered as he leaned close and said in a low, gravelly voice, “Odd reading material for the beach, isn't it?”
The girl gasped and jumped, twisting up to look at him.
Brick dropped his Flirting Face and stared. Oh, SHIT.
“Brick!” Blossom said in surprise, her face coloring.
There was no way he could make a hasty getaway; it was too late. He cursed himself. Museum! You're at a museum! You're just supposed to look, not touch, and DEFINITELY NOT TALK TO THE PIECES BECAUSE ONLY CRAZY PEOPLE DO THAT!
Blossom looked as if she was still getting over the shock. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
He blinked, then vaguely indicated the beach. “Walkin'.”
“Oh yeah, Butch... he mentioned that.”
“What are you doing here?”
She looked around them at the dune she was perched upon.
“This is, er, my favorite spot,” she said. She pointed back south. “I've got a great view of the coast from here, all the way down to the pier. So I can keep an eye on things, you know. And it's pretty private; no one comes down here with all those rocks in the way.”
“I didn't hear you fly over.”
She fidgeted with her hoodie and closed it over her chest. A shame; he didn't find it entirely necessary. It wasn't like he was looking or anything. At all.
“The waves are pretty loud,” she said. “I didn't see you walking.”
He turned and looked back down the beach. “There are a lot of people around. I mean, over on the other side of the rocks.”
She followed his gaze. “Yeah.”
The wind picked up suddenly, and Blossom's hat flew off her head, threatening to sail over Brick. She yelped and shot up, diving after it, but Brick had reflexively grabbed it, so she wound up crashing into his bare chest, which the wind had graciously exposed for her.
They both froze at the contact, Brick's arm still outstretched, his hand clutching her hat.
Blossom stepped back hastily, blushing to the dust and directing her eyes at the sand and not at the favor the wind had done her.
“Thank you,” she said meekly, reaching a hand in the direction of her hat.
The wind picked up again now, in the opposite direction-and her wrap billowed around her legs, her very, very nice legs, and her hoodie flew open, and then Brick felt a little drool pooling under his tongue and had to swallow it down.
“Here,” he said, thrusting her hat into her hands and pretending not to stare at... well, pretty much at anything. “Take it before it flies away again.” His voice sounded weird. It was like he was talking with marbles in his mouth. He swallowed again.
“Hey, Brick!”
He whipped around to see a soaked, grinning Butch. “There you are. They're firing up the grill.”
“Already?” Brick said dubiously. Blossom peered over his shoulder, and the smile on Butch's face faded as he glanced from his brother to her and back.
“Some of us are starving,” he said.
“It's already past noon,” Blossom added, glancing at her watch.
“I guess that makes sense, then.” Brick resisted the urge to turn back to her and instead took flight, immediately heading back for the group.
Butch looked back at Blossom, who was gathering up her bag and towel.
“Need a hand?”
“I got it,” she said, shouldering her burden. She paused and gave him a wary glance. “Um... but thank you.”
Butch watched as she floated past. “Yeah.”
***
Buttercup's shirt had been soaked through-it had been a kickass series of waves-but the fabric was now rapidly drying as she manned the grill over the fire pit. She looked up as Brick, Blossom, and a grim-faced Butch joined them.
“Burgers'll be done in just a minute,” she announced, swatting away Boomer's hand as it drifted towards the fire. He pouted.
Blossom set her stuff down and scurried up. “Do you need me to do anything?”
“There's a fifteen foot perimeter around the grill that is a 'No Blossom' zone,” Buttercup replied, voice flat.
Indignation overtook Blossom's expression. “Hey!”
“Blossom, you're a disaster waiting to happen when cooking's involved. Bubbles, get her outta here.”
“Someone play volleyball with me,” Butch suddenly announced to the group. Nobody answered him.
“Buttercup, I'm just offering to help-”
“Seriously, someone play volleyball with me or heads are gonna roll.”
“I'll play,” Mike volunteered.
“Ooh,” Robin commented. “Brave man.”
A sudden crash from the direction of the fire pit sounded, and everybody turned to see a pile of burger patties cooling in the sand. Buttercup was glaring at Blossom, tongs in hand. Blossom stared at the ruined meat.
“I have no idea how I did that,” she said, dumbfounded.
Five minutes later Blossom was pouting an obedient fifteen feet away from the grill while Buttercup got another round of burgers going and everybody watched Mike get his ass handed to him in volleyball by Butch.
“How many points are we playing to, anyway?” Mike said after Butch scored what felt like his fiftieth point.
“'Points?' Who's fucking keeping score?” Butch made a face.
“Come on, Mike!” the Floydjoydsen twins cried. “You're an athlete, for crying out loud!”
“And he's an athlete with superpowers!” Mike shouted back.
“Go Mike!” Robin cheered, and Mike got a volleyball in the face.
“Okay, I've done my time,” Mike declared, pinching his nose as he rolled the ball back to Butch. “For the record? Ow.”
Butch wasn't done. “Someone else get their ass up here!”
“Butch, shut up,” Brick called out.
“Fuck you!”
“Language!” Blossom's voice cried, in the distance.
“I'm gonna go keep her company,” Robin said.
“Me too,” Mike said, rubbing his nose. “It's too dangerous over here.”
“Hey, Buttercup,” Boomer said, mouth watering as he stared at the grill. “You should, you know, step away from the burgers for a bit and go keep Butch occupied.”
“Fine,” Buttercup sighed. “Who's going to take over? Bubbles, you don't do meat.”
“Me,” Boomer immediately volunteered. He was ignored.
Bubbles was seated and looking over at Brick, standing by his lonesome a little ways away from the group.
“Hey, Brick! Come help us!”
“Aww,” Boomer groaned, staring longingly at the sizzling burgers.
Brick issued her a weird look. She rolled her eyes and stood up, and in a blur of blue Brick was at the grill with the tongs in his hand.
He blinked. “What the-”
“Get grillin',” Bubbles chirped, guiding his hand to flip over the patties.
Boomer looked distraught at the physical contact. “Hey! First you take my burger duties and now you take my girl?”
“I didn't think I was anybody's girl,” Bubbles said innocently.
“You can have her,” Brick muttered under his breath. All the same, he didn't bat her hand away. Blossom's attention drifted from Robin and Mike to the goings-on at the fire pit.
“All right, Pencildick,” Buttercup said, holding her hand up as she took her place on the other side of the net. “Let's go. I'll show you how it's done.”
Butch's stony expression had been taken over by a delighted sneer when Buttercup had sauntered forth. As he delivered the first serve, all of Buttercup's friends scrambled forward to watch the game. Mitch stayed at the back, but his eyes were glued to the match as well.
“Okay, they look about ready,” Brick announced after a couple more minutes had passed, and several people cheered.
“How'd you learn to cook?” Bubbles asked as she and Kim passed plates and buns around. After the initial urging, she hadn't needed to direct him at the grill.
Brick smacked Boomer's hand away (“Hey! They're done now! Can't I have any?”) and replied, “Anyone who can read can learn to cook.”
“Not really,” Bubbles mumbled, darting a glance at Blossom.
“Butch!” Boomer yelled. “Want a burger?”
“Hold on, I need to clean the grill and get some veggies on there,” Bubbles said.
“We don't have enough patties to go around,” Robin observed.
“Gimme one,” Boomer said desperately. He was ignored.
“Mike, why didn't you grab another fire pit?”
“They were all taken! It's the summer, Bobby! Why didn't you bring your extra grill like you were supposed to?”
“I can wait to eat,” Blossom volunteered.
“Me too,” Buttercup said, spiking the ball.
“Me three,” Butch said, easily returning it.
“I don't have a choice,” Bubbles said, arranging her veggies on the grill.
“Of course you have a choice,” Brick scoffed. “You choose to be a dirty hippie and not eat meat.”
Bubbles pouted. “I'm not dirty.”
“Wouldn't object to it,” Boomer said under his breath.
“Was that a sex joke?” Blossom asked, narrowing her eyes at him. “Did you just make a sex joke at my sister?”
“Here, Boomer,” Bubbles said, handing him a plate. “I saved you a burger.”
He went moist. “You are the best.”
“Brick, you should have one, too. You did a bit of the work.”
“I did most of the work,” Buttercup chimed in as she served the ball. “Not complaining, just pointing it out.”
“Floyd, Lloyd, Harry! Mitch, you too. You guys mind waiting for burgers?”
“No,” they said in unison, all eyes riveted to Buttercup. Any minute now...
While the air coming off the ocean was cool, the sun was pretty intense, and Buttercup and Butch were both working up a good sweat, finally. Buttercup's previously dry shirt was beginning to soak through.
Mike sat next to his friends, burger in hand. “You guys keeping score?”
“Huh...” they all intoned dimly.
Mike followed their gaze as Robin took a seat next to him. “Oh.”
Blossom munched on some chips a scant five feet away from the fire; Bubbles wasn't as strict as Buttercup. She glanced at Brick as he popped open a soda, his attention vaguely on the volleyball game.
“Say,” she blurted, and he looked at her. She refrained from swallowing and said, “Earlier, you said The Stranger was a weird choice for the beach. I was just wondering-”
“Wondering why?” he finished. “Have you read it?”
“Yeah-”
“Then you know his trip to the beach doesn't exactly end well,” Brick pointed out.
“Oh. Well, no, it doesn't. I see your point.”
“Plus, I didn't come here expecting to run into a girl that reads Camus.”
Blossom struggled with this for a second, unsure whether to take it as a personal compliment or an insult to womankind.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged. “I guess it means you're not like other girls.”
The thought of it being an insult flew out of her mind and she paused, a familiar little tremble doing its familiar little dance in her chest. Brick blinked and abruptly looked very unhappy with himself. He threw all his attention into sucking down his soda.
“Veggies are done, if anyone wants any!” Bubbles announced.
“I can, um, sure,” Blossom said, and turned to take her place in the very short line.
At the volleyball net, Buttercup held up a hand as Butch rolled her the ball for her serve.
“Wait,” she breathed, stopping the ball with her foot and grasping the hem of her shirt.
At the sidelines, the boys that had gathered leaned as one. Buttercup caught the movement and issued a scathing glare at them. Her friends retained the sensibility to look occupied with other things.
“If I hear one fucking word out of you guys...” she said darkly, directing her hard eyes at Butch, too...
He blinked.
Some of the boys later claimed a chorus of Hallelujah had echoed in the skies at first sight of Buttercup's toned stomach. Others argued the music didn't start until the shirt had passed into higher, holier territory.
Somewhere back in the vicinity of the Powerpuff Girls' home, Professor Utonium felt a sudden chill.
“Ugh, much better.” Buttercup wiped the sweat off her brow with her balled up shirt, then patted her chest and what she could reach of her back.
Every male head was angled in Buttercup's direction. Even Brick's, who tilted his plate and then had to scramble to save his burger from taking a nosedive into the sand.
I didn't get that good a view when Butch stripped her shirt off that one time, he thought.
Only Boomer was oblivious, happily watching Bubbles dig into her food.
“You even eat cute,” he observed.
Buttercup tossed her shirt away, and there was a mad scuffle for it in the general direction of the group. She blinked at a catatonic Butch, then narrowed her eyes.
“What?”
He took in those broad shoulders, that flat tummy, the slight curve of her breasts cloaked in her bathing suit top. Then:
“Dude.” He gaped. “Buttercup, your arms are so cut I'm not even staring at your tits.”
She spiked the ball with unprecedented force, shooting it straight into his face.
Robin peered over Mike at the rest of the boys. “Are they okay?”
“Nothing a burger won't fix,” he said, standing up and dusting off his trunks. “I'll get another batch started.”
Buttercup's last serve had knocked Butch out cold. She kicked him over to the group, where he rolled to a stop. There was a faint groan from the Butch-shaped lump.
“Alright!” she whooped. “I'm just getting started. Who's next?”
“Buttercup, aren't you hungry yet?” Bubbles called as Boomer took a piece of squash off her plate and nibbled it experimentally.
“I've still gotta cook 'em,” Mike added. “The burgers, I mean.”
Buttercup scanned the group-most of the boys seemed to be brain-dead. Everybody else was eating, Mike was cooking, Butch was possibly really dead, and-
Blossom had eaten the last of her veggies when Buttercup cried out, “Red! Let's go!”
Brick furrowed his brow, burger in mouth. “Mmph?”
“No, me,” Blossom sighed, setting her plate down and taking off her hat. “I just ate!” she complained, but she floated over anyway.
“I didn't think sports was Blossom's thing,” Boomer observed.
“Oh no, she did everything back in middle school,” Bubbles said. “Sports, music-they didn't have a dance troop in school then. She did just about everything except Home Ec, and that was because they banned her.”
Blossom's skirt billowed around her as she took her place on the other side of the net. Buttercup noted it and smirked.
One by one, the boys snapped back to. Bubbles joined Robin at the front, and after a while so did Kim. A minute into the game they started to cover the unconscious Butch with sand.
Buttercup was faring far better than her sister, who kept getting hung up on her long skirt-it didn't exactly make playing volleyball easy.
“Ten-three!” Buttercup cackled as she tossed the ball to Blossom for her serve.
“Blossom, just take that thing off,” Bubbles called. Several boys twitched. Brick stood by the grill and pretended to observe Mike's cooking. “If you have any intention of winning, that is.”
Blossom rolled the ball in her hands uneasily, glancing at the group. Everybody seemed to be looking in any direction except the game. Some of the boys were whistling innocently. Bubbles, Kim, and Robin seemed really focused on that giant pile of sand they were making.
“Come on, Leader Girl,” Buttercup crowed, cocking her hands on her hips. “I don't got all day.”
Blossom narrowed her eyes and dropped the ball into the sand, reaching to undo the tie of the skirt. As the skirt dropped away to reveal those infamous dancer's legs of hers, the sound of the crashing waves did a wonderful job of masking the collective sigh from the boys in their group. Back home, the Professor had the sudden compulsion to annihilate every teenage male that existed. He squeezed a stress ball for about ten minutes and then made himself some tea after it burst.
The pile of sand Bubbles and her friends were working on exploded, and they shrieked as Butch pointed and opened his mouth in a silent scream. Over by the grill, Brick buckled to his knees.
“Are you okay?” Mike said, bending over him.
“I'm fine,” Brick said weakly.
Was that a faint? Did I just faint? Fuck me, I think I just fainted, he thought torpidly.
After shrugging off her hoodie and tying it around her waist (the boys were unsure whether to be disappointed or delighted), Blossom spiked the ball and Buttercup narrowly missed it, hitting the sand.
“Four-ten.” Blossom smirked.
Her newly acquired mobility made Blossom a much more able competitor. The game went back and forth until Mike was done cooking, and at that point, Blossom had just pulled out ahead. She was exercising what she considered some well-earned gloating privileges.
“Who kicked your butt?” she said smugly as she and Buttercup strode up to claim their lunch. She raised a hand and mock-gasped. “Oh my gosh! I think it was me!”
“You're lucky I played a game before you,” Buttercup grumbled. “You wouldn't have done as well if we'd both been fresh going into that game.”
“This isn't fair,” Robin complained in an undertone to Bubbles and Kim. “The boys are getting all the good stuff. Where's the eye candy for the ladies?” She pointed at the volleyball net. “I need some sweaty boys huffing and puffing up there, stat.”
“Blossom!” Bubbles called out. “Aren't you going to put your clothes back on?”
“Oh my God,” Butch groaned in a pained voice, clutching at his head. “Stop. Please. You're killing me. I need a Distraction Burger.”
Blossom went beet red and zipped back to get her skirt on.
“I want to play!” Boomer said excitedly. Brick eyed him.
“You've been stuffing your face since this grill's been going,” he said reproachfully. “Now you want to play?”
Boomer ignored Brick and grabbed his brother by the arm.
“Come on, Brick! Let's go!”
“Wait a min-”
Boomer flung his leader over the heads of their friends, where he stumbled face first into the pole.
“Ow! You little shit-”
Butch stood-he'd just inhaled three burgers in a row-and said, his voice muffled, “Me phoo!”
“What?” Brick rubbed his forehead and glared sideways at his brothers as they approached the net. “How are we going to play with three?”
“Me and him against you,” Boomer explained, as if it were obvious.
“What?!”
“Really, to make it fair, we oughtta get another person on our team,” Butch muttered.
“Okay, now I need some popcorn,” Robin announced. “Please tell me someone brought popcorn.”
Brick was not going to be convinced and started back for the group.
“Forget it. You boys can go play with yoursel-”
Butch snatched the collar of his brother's shirt as he passed by and yanked him back, while Boomer grabbed an arm and started to wrestle him over to the net.
“Hey!”
“It's easier if you don't struggle,” Boomer grunted.
“Ha! That's what she said!” Butch chortled.
Suddenly Brick twisted out of his brothers' grips, a weird, sinewy movement-more of a slither, really-and turned to glare at them. His brothers blinked in confusion at the shirt they were clutching between them.
Several stifled girlish squeals echoed from the group. Blossom's burger somehow landed back in the fire pit. Buttercup inhaled her soda-literally-and started hacking it back up. Robin clutched at Bubbles.
“Please pinch me,” Robin hissed determinedly, “because I’m pretty sure Brick taking his shirt off would only happen in a dream.” On the other side of her, Kim furtively started snapping photos. Somewhere back behind them, Blossom located her hat and hid her red face behind it.
Boomer pouted. “Aww, Briiiiiiiiick! Play with us!”
“Brick, be nice to your brothers and play with them,” Bubbles said innocently.
He threw her a furious look. “Excuse me?! Who are you ordering around, exactly?”
She cocked her head. “Come to think of it, I'm not sure. This sun's pretty bright, and you don't have a shirt on. Could you come closer so I can get a better look?”
“No!”
“Hey!” Boomer cried. “I don't have a shirt on, either!”
“Good for you,” Bubbles said cheerfully. Boomer didn't seem comforted by this.
“Brick, you look pretty chilly,” he said, his tone deathly serious. “You'd better put this back on-”
A sudden green blast incinerated the shirt in Boomer's and Butch's hands. Everyone turned to look at Buttercup, steam rising off her mitt.
“Oops. How clumsy of me.”
Brick gaped at her. “You owe me a new shirt!”
“We can go get one now,” Buttercup said without skipping a beat. “Want to?”
“Wh-you just destroyed my clothing!”
“Buttercup!” Robin hissed at her. “Destroy more!”
The rest of the boys looked a bit put out. “Dude! Are we, like, not even here?”
“Shut up,” Buttercup, Robin, and Kim ordered.
“Weren't you guys going to play volleyball?” Bubbles asked.
Buttercup perked up. “Yes, volleyball. Some hot, sweaty volleyball. Doesn't that sound refreshing?”
Something clicked in Butch's brain. “Hey! Cut that out!”
“What? I'm just saying-”
“You're not allowed to find my brother hot!”
“Excuse me?” Blossom lowered her hat and glared. “Who are you to cast stones?”
“Are you hot, Brick?” Buttercup asked in a soothing voice. “Do you need some water? Like, to pour on you?”
Robin made a little fainting noise and Bubbles patted her back. Kim went right on using up the memory in her camera.
“I don't really feel like playing volleyball anymore,” Boomer mumbled bitterly.
Bubbles smiled. “Aw, I'll play with you.”
Boomer lit up. “Really?”
“Yeah.” She turned to Brick. “Brick, you can be on my team.”
Boomer made a strangled sort of noise and dove in front of Brick, blocking Bubbles' view of him.
“Bubbles! How could you?!”
“Buttercup!” Butch snapped. “His fucking face is up here!”
“Yeah, that's cool,” she said distractedly, not staring at his face at all. “Faces are cool. I've got one of those.”
Brick-who was mostly indifferent to the attention, but still sore about his shirt-glanced up at Blossom, who seemed to be trying to burrow into her hat. She was flushed, all the way down to her chest, and then she made the mistake of making eye contact with him. With her eyes just peeking out from under the brim of her hat and her teeth biting gently at her lip, the effect was-
Brick felt a sudden warmth rapidly expanding in his own chest and turned, stalking towards the water.
“I'm going swimming,” he announced.
“So am I,” Buttercup, Robin, and Kim immediately said, and strode forth.
“Why the fuck does this always happen?!” Butch clamored.
Boomer watched as Bubbles rustled through her things. “Aren't you going swimming?” he mumbled petulantly.
She smiled at him. “No. I'll stay here on the beach with you.”
He dropped the petulance and beamed at her. “You're the bestest, sweetest ever.”
“Besides,” she said, holding up a towel. “Someone's going to have to help Brick dry off when he gets out.”
She draped the towel over her arm and skipped past a blank-faced Boomer.
Over on the side, Blossom's hat muttered something dimly about going for a walk along the edge of the beach, then scuttled directly towards where Brick and the girls had gone.
The rest of the boys stared after them.
“Man,” Harry muttered. “Girls suck.”
Butch's gaze flitted from Blossom to her dark-haired sister, and then to his brother.
“No,” he muttered. “Brick sucks.”
(cont.)
Originally posted at http://essbeejay.dreamwidth.org/77515.html.
More Than Human, ch6
part 1
part 2
Title: More Than Human
Chapter 6: We’ll Still Have The Summer After All, or Permanent Jet Lag, Please Take Me Back
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: mathkid and juxtaposie deserve more credit than they get for how much they help me. Ch. 6 is TEF’s Beach Episode. Yes, you may thank me later.
More Than Human, Pt. 1 - Junior Summer
June - We’ll Still Have The Summer After All, or Permanent Jet Lag, Please Take Me Back
-sbj-
The Professor shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat, glancing at his girls every five seconds. After a good two days spent arguing back and forth about it, a surly Buttercup had conceded to the Professor's wishes and struggled into her wetsuit.
“Too friggin' hot to surf in a wetsuit,” she muttered under her breath when she spotted the Professor glancing at her in the rearview.
“I've seen plenty of people surf in wetsuits in the summer, Buttercup,” he said sternly.
“They've got 3/2 thickness! This one that I've got on is a 5/3! I'm suffocating.” She tugged at the neck of her suit, trying to encourage airflow to her skin.
The Professor refrained from rolling his eyes at her dramatizing. Teenagers.
His eyes flicked to Blossom, seated next to a struggling Buttercup in the back. He bit his lip. Blossom was conservative about her body by nature, and, in addition to her sensible black one-piece, had an ankle-length wraparound skirt on, a light hoodie covering up her top and a wide-brimmed hat. He had absolutely nothing to complain about.
Except-and he recognized this, as a father-Blossom could be wearing a full-body potato sack underneath several layers of ski gear and boys would still gawk at her. She was a very, very pretty girl.
There was no way he'd ever say this out loud, but sometimes the Professor wished she were uglier. Not a lot, just enough to, you know, repel interest from boys. That was reasonable, right?
He sighed and looked at Bubbles, next to him in the front seat. She was wearing knee length shorts and a t-shirt over a sky blue one-piece. She had smiled innocently at him prior to getting in the car.
He had been instantly suspicious.
But a thorough search of her bag had produced no hidden bikini tops or two pieces. The worst thing she had on was a pair of ribbon strap wedges...
The Professor pulled into the beach parking lot, and Bubbles leaned forward in her seat.
“I see them! The boys are here!”
“No boys,” the Professor automatically said.
Bubbles laughed it off. “Oh, Professor, we're at the beach! There are boys everywhere.”
“Then we're going back home,” he announced, shifting into reverse and giving the car some gas.
He didn't budge. He was also, he suddenly noted, a good four feet above the ground. Buttercup had immediately jumped out of the car when they'd first pulled up and was now holding the car up off the asphalt.
“Professor,” she said reproachfully. “Seriously.”
Their father pouted, and the wheels slowly stopped spinning in the air as he took his foot off the accelerator. Buttercup set them down, and her sisters exited the car, shouldering their bags as she unstrapped her board from the top of the car.
“You girls behave,” the Professor said, eyes a little fearful. The girls all sighed.
“Yes, Professor.”
“No going off alone with boys.”
“Yes, Professor.” (Bubbles mumbled, so nobody could be quite sure exactly what she'd said.)
“No... you know, beach blanket bingo or anything like that.”
Buttercup made a face. “What? What is that? How old are you, again?”
“Not under my watch, Professor,” Blossom said stoutly, her expression serious.
“Bingo? What's so bad about bingo?” Bubbles wondered, tilting her head and pursing her lips in thought.
“There's a good chance I won't be able to pick you girls up on account of work-”
“Professor,” Buttercup sighed, exasperated. “We'll fly home. No big deal. We're big girls now.”
His lower lip trembled as he looked at them. Buttercup was right. When had they gotten so big?
“I know. But I still love you,” the Professor said, sniffling.
The girls shifted uncomfortably. He kept doing this a lot, lately...
They each leaned in, in turn, to peck him on the cheek. “Love you too, Professor,” they said in unison.
A teary-eyed Professor drove away, the girls waving after him. Bubbles continued to do so long after he was out of sight. Buttercup and Blossom waited until their sister had finally lowered her hand.
“He's gone,” Bubbles said, a little sadly.
“Yep,” Buttercup agreed. “Ready?”
Bubbles whipped off her t-shirt and shorts as Buttercup covered her with her towel.
Blossom sputtered, “W-What are you-”
Bubbles emerged from the towel bikini-clad with her one piece in hand. Granted, as bikinis went it was very cute and modest, but-
“What are you doing?!” Blossom clamored. “And-and where were you hiding that?!”
“Stuffed in the pockets of my shorts,” Bubbles explained, putting on a pair of sunglasses and covering Buttercup with the towel now. Buttercup reappeared in what had originally been Bubbles' t-shirt and shorts.
Blossom noted the strings of what appeared to be another bikini top poking out from under her shirt collar.
“You too, Buttercup?”
“I'm not wearing a wetsuit in this weather,” Buttercup grumbled with a faint blush dusting her cheeks. She rolled her suit up and stuffed it into Blossom's bag. “Let's go!”
Buttercup and Bubbles went flying into the air across the beach, laughing and hollering to grab their friends' attention. Blossom trailed after her sisters in a more subdued manner.
Brick's not here, she noted as she scanned the beach. Not that it mattered. Not really.
***
Butch kept slapping Boomer around with his surfboard and trying to steal his sunglasses. It wasn't like it hurt, but it was getting kind of annoying, and Boomer was glad when the girls arrived because it distracted Butch. Also Bubbles looked ridiculously adorable in her swimsuit.
She beamed at them (mostly him, he noticed with a smug grin). “Hey guys!” He was then treated to a drool-inducing view of her swimsuit-clad back as she turned and waved at Mike, who was setting up around the fire pit amidst more of their friends. A number of them waved back.
“Hey yourself,” he said admiringly, and was delighted when she looked back at him and blushed.
“Yo. Been out there yet?” Buttercup asked Butch, tossing her head at the ocean.
“Nope.” He sneered. “Waitin' for you to come so I got someone to upstage when I do.”
She rolled her eyes. “Riiiiiight.”
Blossom glanced furtively up and down the beach, trying to look inconspicuous.
“Hey,” Bubbles said, looking around. “Where's Brick? Did he not come?”
Butch snorted. “Naw, he's here. Wandering around the beach, all 'dark and lonely as a cloud,' or some shit like that.”
“Language,” Blossom mumbled under her breath as she dug around in her bag.
Boomer kept staring at Bubbles and grinning. “You're looking mighty cute today.”
Bubbles took off her sunglasses to look at him properly. “Thank you,” she said, sheepish.
“Shoot. I forgot my sunglasses,” Blossom muttered. Bubbles immediately held hers out to her sister, never once breaking eye contact with Boomer. “Oh, thanks Bubbles.”
“Don't mention it,” she said dimly.
“Well, I'll see you guys later,” Blossom said. “I'm going to go read-”
“Wait, what?” Butch, who'd been doodling something crude in the sand, looked a little put out. “You come to the beach and you're going to read?”
“Let her be,” Buttercup said dismissively, adding to Butch's handiwork by digging into the sand with her board. “She's got a favorite spot and everything. Can't talk her out of it.”
Blossom caught sight of what Butch and Buttercup were up to and iced over.
“What in God’s name are you two drawing?”
Butch and Buttercup instantly kicked sand over the lewd picture they’d just scrawled.
“Nuthin’,” they muttered in unison.
Blossom shot them a look of disgust and took off towards the north end of the beach.
“I think she just took off with my sunglasses,” Bubbles said, still staring at Boomer.
“Here.” He slid his off and extended them to her, his blue eyes twinkling. “You can use mine.”
“Oh, Blossom, I hate to see you leave, but I sure do love to watch you go,” Butch said in a strangled little voice.
“I heard that!” Blossom’s irritated cry rang back over the sound of crashing waves.
“Good!” Butch bellowed back. “Because I think you’re HOT and-”
“Hey, Casanova, cool it for a second.” Buttercup snatched up her board and pointed at the sea. “We’ve got some nice waves coming in.”
“Hm, Hot Girl vs. Nice Waves isn’t really what I’d call a contest-Hey!” Buttercup had grabbed his board and hurled it like a javelin into the middle of the ocean. With a gleeful cackle she spun off after it, aiming her board for the water.
“That stupid…” Butch continued muttering under his breath as he took off after her. Bubbles and Boomer remained firmly entrenched in their own little world.
“… So, do you want ‘em or not?”
Bubbles blinked. “Huh?”
He held up the sunglasses in his hand. “These?”
“Oh!” Blushing, Bubbles gingerly plucked them from his hand. “Um, thank you.” The cute little way he kept grinning at her was, for some crazy reason, making her all kinds of shy, so she turned away a little as she tried to put them on.
“I guess it’s just us two, huh?” Boomer said conversationally, indicating their absent siblings with a look and a shrug.
“Yeah, I guess… whoops!” The sunglasses she’d been fumbling with slipped back down her face and hit the sand. She started giggling and blushing again. Augh, she had to stop doing that! “They’re too big for me,” she laughed apologetically as she picked them up. “Here. You should have them back.”
He was still looking at her with that goofy grin on his face, even as he took his glasses back and fitted them over his own eyes.
“If you say so.”
She meant to do something other than blush more, giggle like an idiot, and turn away, but she wasn’t doing well with coherent thinking. She blushed, giggled, and turned away.
With her back to him, Bubbles could imagine any number of scenarios taking place, and all of them started with Boomer coming up behind her, brushing her hair back, and whispering in a soft, gentle voice-
“I like your swimsuit.”
She turned to see him still situated a respectable distance away and entertained a brief twinge of disappointment before she had the sense to stop herself.
There wasn't anything wrong with flirting. She knew that. Even though all it was really doing was making the impending heartbreak that much more miserable. The boys were leaving next week. But it made Bubbles happy to talk to Boomer. No matter how small the happiness, she'd take it. In moderation, of course.
She tossed her head back at the group by the fire pit. “Let's go see what they're up to.”
***
The wind whipped Brick's open shirt around him as he walked.
It wasn’t a habit of Brick’s to advertise things he liked, save for solitude, but that was a dead giveaway since he had a tendency to issue death glares at anyone who got within five feet of him. He liked movement, too, at least when he wasn’t thinking about things like coups and plans and his future. So he was very much enjoying his solitary stroll along the beach, the sound of the crashing waves a perfect backdrop against his clear, currently non-scheming mind. The faint knowledge that soon he and his brothers would be returning “home” and he could get back on with the couping and the planning and the scheming filled him with nothing short of excited anticipation. He liked all those things.
He also liked pretty girls, even if he wasn't keen on their attention all the time. The weather was gorgeous, and the pretty girls were out in full force. He liked to think he was perusing a Girl Museum-no touching, just looking.
At least until the temptation was too strong to ignore.
Eventually the sand gave way to a giant pile of jagged, sun-bleached rocks, blocking the path further along the beach. It went on for what looked like another twenty feet before it became sand again.
Just beyond that he could see one of his particular favorite varieties of girl, settling on a sand dune-a demurely seated, pretty little thing wrapped in a long skirt and a large, floppy sun hat. What really did him in was the copy of Camus' The Stranger in her hands.
The hat was simultaneously masking most of her face and blocking him from her view. He thought it only polite to go and introduce himself.
He floated over, quickly and quietly, and hovered as he leaned close and said in a low, gravelly voice, “Odd reading material for the beach, isn't it?”
The girl gasped and jumped, twisting up to look at him.
Brick dropped his Flirting Face and stared. Oh, SHIT.
“Brick!” Blossom said in surprise, her face coloring.
There was no way he could make a hasty getaway; it was too late. He cursed himself. Museum! You're at a museum! You're just supposed to look, not touch, and DEFINITELY NOT TALK TO THE PIECES BECAUSE ONLY CRAZY PEOPLE DO THAT!
Blossom looked as if she was still getting over the shock. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
He blinked, then vaguely indicated the beach. “Walkin'.”
“Oh yeah, Butch... he mentioned that.”
“What are you doing here?”
She looked around them at the dune she was perched upon.
“This is, er, my favorite spot,” she said. She pointed back south. “I've got a great view of the coast from here, all the way down to the pier. So I can keep an eye on things, you know. And it's pretty private; no one comes down here with all those rocks in the way.”
“I didn't hear you fly over.”
She fidgeted with her hoodie and closed it over her chest. A shame; he didn't find it entirely necessary. It wasn't like he was looking or anything. At all.
“The waves are pretty loud,” she said. “I didn't see you walking.”
He turned and looked back down the beach. “There are a lot of people around. I mean, over on the other side of the rocks.”
She followed his gaze. “Yeah.”
The wind picked up suddenly, and Blossom's hat flew off her head, threatening to sail over Brick. She yelped and shot up, diving after it, but Brick had reflexively grabbed it, so she wound up crashing into his bare chest, which the wind had graciously exposed for her.
They both froze at the contact, Brick's arm still outstretched, his hand clutching her hat.
Blossom stepped back hastily, blushing to the dust and directing her eyes at the sand and not at the favor the wind had done her.
“Thank you,” she said meekly, reaching a hand in the direction of her hat.
The wind picked up again now, in the opposite direction-and her wrap billowed around her legs, her very, very nice legs, and her hoodie flew open, and then Brick felt a little drool pooling under his tongue and had to swallow it down.
“Here,” he said, thrusting her hat into her hands and pretending not to stare at... well, pretty much at anything. “Take it before it flies away again.” His voice sounded weird. It was like he was talking with marbles in his mouth. He swallowed again.
“Hey, Brick!”
He whipped around to see a soaked, grinning Butch. “There you are. They're firing up the grill.”
“Already?” Brick said dubiously. Blossom peered over his shoulder, and the smile on Butch's face faded as he glanced from his brother to her and back.
“Some of us are starving,” he said.
“It's already past noon,” Blossom added, glancing at her watch.
“I guess that makes sense, then.” Brick resisted the urge to turn back to her and instead took flight, immediately heading back for the group.
Butch looked back at Blossom, who was gathering up her bag and towel.
“Need a hand?”
“I got it,” she said, shouldering her burden. She paused and gave him a wary glance. “Um... but thank you.”
Butch watched as she floated past. “Yeah.”
***
Buttercup's shirt had been soaked through-it had been a kickass series of waves-but the fabric was now rapidly drying as she manned the grill over the fire pit. She looked up as Brick, Blossom, and a grim-faced Butch joined them.
“Burgers'll be done in just a minute,” she announced, swatting away Boomer's hand as it drifted towards the fire. He pouted.
Blossom set her stuff down and scurried up. “Do you need me to do anything?”
“There's a fifteen foot perimeter around the grill that is a 'No Blossom' zone,” Buttercup replied, voice flat.
Indignation overtook Blossom's expression. “Hey!”
“Blossom, you're a disaster waiting to happen when cooking's involved. Bubbles, get her outta here.”
“Someone play volleyball with me,” Butch suddenly announced to the group. Nobody answered him.
“Buttercup, I'm just offering to help-”
“Seriously, someone play volleyball with me or heads are gonna roll.”
“I'll play,” Mike volunteered.
“Ooh,” Robin commented. “Brave man.”
A sudden crash from the direction of the fire pit sounded, and everybody turned to see a pile of burger patties cooling in the sand. Buttercup was glaring at Blossom, tongs in hand. Blossom stared at the ruined meat.
“I have no idea how I did that,” she said, dumbfounded.
Five minutes later Blossom was pouting an obedient fifteen feet away from the grill while Buttercup got another round of burgers going and everybody watched Mike get his ass handed to him in volleyball by Butch.
“How many points are we playing to, anyway?” Mike said after Butch scored what felt like his fiftieth point.
“'Points?' Who's fucking keeping score?” Butch made a face.
“Come on, Mike!” the Floydjoydsen twins cried. “You're an athlete, for crying out loud!”
“And he's an athlete with superpowers!” Mike shouted back.
“Go Mike!” Robin cheered, and Mike got a volleyball in the face.
“Okay, I've done my time,” Mike declared, pinching his nose as he rolled the ball back to Butch. “For the record? Ow.”
Butch wasn't done. “Someone else get their ass up here!”
“Butch, shut up,” Brick called out.
“Fuck you!”
“Language!” Blossom's voice cried, in the distance.
“I'm gonna go keep her company,” Robin said.
“Me too,” Mike said, rubbing his nose. “It's too dangerous over here.”
“Hey, Buttercup,” Boomer said, mouth watering as he stared at the grill. “You should, you know, step away from the burgers for a bit and go keep Butch occupied.”
“Fine,” Buttercup sighed. “Who's going to take over? Bubbles, you don't do meat.”
“Me,” Boomer immediately volunteered. He was ignored.
Bubbles was seated and looking over at Brick, standing by his lonesome a little ways away from the group.
“Hey, Brick! Come help us!”
“Aww,” Boomer groaned, staring longingly at the sizzling burgers.
Brick issued her a weird look. She rolled her eyes and stood up, and in a blur of blue Brick was at the grill with the tongs in his hand.
He blinked. “What the-”
“Get grillin',” Bubbles chirped, guiding his hand to flip over the patties.
Boomer looked distraught at the physical contact. “Hey! First you take my burger duties and now you take my girl?”
“I didn't think I was anybody's girl,” Bubbles said innocently.
“You can have her,” Brick muttered under his breath. All the same, he didn't bat her hand away. Blossom's attention drifted from Robin and Mike to the goings-on at the fire pit.
“All right, Pencildick,” Buttercup said, holding her hand up as she took her place on the other side of the net. “Let's go. I'll show you how it's done.”
Butch's stony expression had been taken over by a delighted sneer when Buttercup had sauntered forth. As he delivered the first serve, all of Buttercup's friends scrambled forward to watch the game. Mitch stayed at the back, but his eyes were glued to the match as well.
“Okay, they look about ready,” Brick announced after a couple more minutes had passed, and several people cheered.
“How'd you learn to cook?” Bubbles asked as she and Kim passed plates and buns around. After the initial urging, she hadn't needed to direct him at the grill.
Brick smacked Boomer's hand away (“Hey! They're done now! Can't I have any?”) and replied, “Anyone who can read can learn to cook.”
“Not really,” Bubbles mumbled, darting a glance at Blossom.
“Butch!” Boomer yelled. “Want a burger?”
“Hold on, I need to clean the grill and get some veggies on there,” Bubbles said.
“We don't have enough patties to go around,” Robin observed.
“Gimme one,” Boomer said desperately. He was ignored.
“Mike, why didn't you grab another fire pit?”
“They were all taken! It's the summer, Bobby! Why didn't you bring your extra grill like you were supposed to?”
“I can wait to eat,” Blossom volunteered.
“Me too,” Buttercup said, spiking the ball.
“Me three,” Butch said, easily returning it.
“I don't have a choice,” Bubbles said, arranging her veggies on the grill.
“Of course you have a choice,” Brick scoffed. “You choose to be a dirty hippie and not eat meat.”
Bubbles pouted. “I'm not dirty.”
“Wouldn't object to it,” Boomer said under his breath.
“Was that a sex joke?” Blossom asked, narrowing her eyes at him. “Did you just make a sex joke at my sister?”
“Here, Boomer,” Bubbles said, handing him a plate. “I saved you a burger.”
He went moist. “You are the best.”
“Brick, you should have one, too. You did a bit of the work.”
“I did most of the work,” Buttercup chimed in as she served the ball. “Not complaining, just pointing it out.”
“Floyd, Lloyd, Harry! Mitch, you too. You guys mind waiting for burgers?”
“No,” they said in unison, all eyes riveted to Buttercup. Any minute now...
While the air coming off the ocean was cool, the sun was pretty intense, and Buttercup and Butch were both working up a good sweat, finally. Buttercup's previously dry shirt was beginning to soak through.
Mike sat next to his friends, burger in hand. “You guys keeping score?”
“Huh...” they all intoned dimly.
Mike followed their gaze as Robin took a seat next to him. “Oh.”
Blossom munched on some chips a scant five feet away from the fire; Bubbles wasn't as strict as Buttercup. She glanced at Brick as he popped open a soda, his attention vaguely on the volleyball game.
“Say,” she blurted, and he looked at her. She refrained from swallowing and said, “Earlier, you said The Stranger was a weird choice for the beach. I was just wondering-”
“Wondering why?” he finished. “Have you read it?”
“Yeah-”
“Then you know his trip to the beach doesn't exactly end well,” Brick pointed out.
“Oh. Well, no, it doesn't. I see your point.”
“Plus, I didn't come here expecting to run into a girl that reads Camus.”
Blossom struggled with this for a second, unsure whether to take it as a personal compliment or an insult to womankind.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged. “I guess it means you're not like other girls.”
The thought of it being an insult flew out of her mind and she paused, a familiar little tremble doing its familiar little dance in her chest. Brick blinked and abruptly looked very unhappy with himself. He threw all his attention into sucking down his soda.
“Veggies are done, if anyone wants any!” Bubbles announced.
“I can, um, sure,” Blossom said, and turned to take her place in the very short line.
At the volleyball net, Buttercup held up a hand as Butch rolled her the ball for her serve.
“Wait,” she breathed, stopping the ball with her foot and grasping the hem of her shirt.
At the sidelines, the boys that had gathered leaned as one. Buttercup caught the movement and issued a scathing glare at them. Her friends retained the sensibility to look occupied with other things.
“If I hear one fucking word out of you guys...” she said darkly, directing her hard eyes at Butch, too...
He blinked.
Some of the boys later claimed a chorus of Hallelujah had echoed in the skies at first sight of Buttercup's toned stomach. Others argued the music didn't start until the shirt had passed into higher, holier territory.
Somewhere back in the vicinity of the Powerpuff Girls' home, Professor Utonium felt a sudden chill.
“Ugh, much better.” Buttercup wiped the sweat off her brow with her balled up shirt, then patted her chest and what she could reach of her back.
Every male head was angled in Buttercup's direction. Even Brick's, who tilted his plate and then had to scramble to save his burger from taking a nosedive into the sand.
I didn't get that good a view when Butch stripped her shirt off that one time, he thought.
Only Boomer was oblivious, happily watching Bubbles dig into her food.
“You even eat cute,” he observed.
Buttercup tossed her shirt away, and there was a mad scuffle for it in the general direction of the group. She blinked at a catatonic Butch, then narrowed her eyes.
“What?”
He took in those broad shoulders, that flat tummy, the slight curve of her breasts cloaked in her bathing suit top. Then:
“Dude.” He gaped. “Buttercup, your arms are so cut I'm not even staring at your tits.”
She spiked the ball with unprecedented force, shooting it straight into his face.
Robin peered over Mike at the rest of the boys. “Are they okay?”
“Nothing a burger won't fix,” he said, standing up and dusting off his trunks. “I'll get another batch started.”
Buttercup's last serve had knocked Butch out cold. She kicked him over to the group, where he rolled to a stop. There was a faint groan from the Butch-shaped lump.
“Alright!” she whooped. “I'm just getting started. Who's next?”
“Buttercup, aren't you hungry yet?” Bubbles called as Boomer took a piece of squash off her plate and nibbled it experimentally.
“I've still gotta cook 'em,” Mike added. “The burgers, I mean.”
Buttercup scanned the group-most of the boys seemed to be brain-dead. Everybody else was eating, Mike was cooking, Butch was possibly really dead, and-
Blossom had eaten the last of her veggies when Buttercup cried out, “Red! Let's go!”
Brick furrowed his brow, burger in mouth. “Mmph?”
“No, me,” Blossom sighed, setting her plate down and taking off her hat. “I just ate!” she complained, but she floated over anyway.
“I didn't think sports was Blossom's thing,” Boomer observed.
“Oh no, she did everything back in middle school,” Bubbles said. “Sports, music-they didn't have a dance troop in school then. She did just about everything except Home Ec, and that was because they banned her.”
Blossom's skirt billowed around her as she took her place on the other side of the net. Buttercup noted it and smirked.
One by one, the boys snapped back to. Bubbles joined Robin at the front, and after a while so did Kim. A minute into the game they started to cover the unconscious Butch with sand.
Buttercup was faring far better than her sister, who kept getting hung up on her long skirt-it didn't exactly make playing volleyball easy.
“Ten-three!” Buttercup cackled as she tossed the ball to Blossom for her serve.
“Blossom, just take that thing off,” Bubbles called. Several boys twitched. Brick stood by the grill and pretended to observe Mike's cooking. “If you have any intention of winning, that is.”
Blossom rolled the ball in her hands uneasily, glancing at the group. Everybody seemed to be looking in any direction except the game. Some of the boys were whistling innocently. Bubbles, Kim, and Robin seemed really focused on that giant pile of sand they were making.
“Come on, Leader Girl,” Buttercup crowed, cocking her hands on her hips. “I don't got all day.”
Blossom narrowed her eyes and dropped the ball into the sand, reaching to undo the tie of the skirt. As the skirt dropped away to reveal those infamous dancer's legs of hers, the sound of the crashing waves did a wonderful job of masking the collective sigh from the boys in their group. Back home, the Professor had the sudden compulsion to annihilate every teenage male that existed. He squeezed a stress ball for about ten minutes and then made himself some tea after it burst.
The pile of sand Bubbles and her friends were working on exploded, and they shrieked as Butch pointed and opened his mouth in a silent scream. Over by the grill, Brick buckled to his knees.
“Are you okay?” Mike said, bending over him.
“I'm fine,” Brick said weakly.
Was that a faint? Did I just faint? Fuck me, I think I just fainted, he thought torpidly.
After shrugging off her hoodie and tying it around her waist (the boys were unsure whether to be disappointed or delighted), Blossom spiked the ball and Buttercup narrowly missed it, hitting the sand.
“Four-ten.” Blossom smirked.
Her newly acquired mobility made Blossom a much more able competitor. The game went back and forth until Mike was done cooking, and at that point, Blossom had just pulled out ahead. She was exercising what she considered some well-earned gloating privileges.
“Who kicked your butt?” she said smugly as she and Buttercup strode up to claim their lunch. She raised a hand and mock-gasped. “Oh my gosh! I think it was me!”
“You're lucky I played a game before you,” Buttercup grumbled. “You wouldn't have done as well if we'd both been fresh going into that game.”
“This isn't fair,” Robin complained in an undertone to Bubbles and Kim. “The boys are getting all the good stuff. Where's the eye candy for the ladies?” She pointed at the volleyball net. “I need some sweaty boys huffing and puffing up there, stat.”
“Blossom!” Bubbles called out. “Aren't you going to put your clothes back on?”
“Oh my God,” Butch groaned in a pained voice, clutching at his head. “Stop. Please. You're killing me. I need a Distraction Burger.”
Blossom went beet red and zipped back to get her skirt on.
“I want to play!” Boomer said excitedly. Brick eyed him.
“You've been stuffing your face since this grill's been going,” he said reproachfully. “Now you want to play?”
Boomer ignored Brick and grabbed his brother by the arm.
“Come on, Brick! Let's go!”
“Wait a min-”
Boomer flung his leader over the heads of their friends, where he stumbled face first into the pole.
“Ow! You little shit-”
Butch stood-he'd just inhaled three burgers in a row-and said, his voice muffled, “Me phoo!”
“What?” Brick rubbed his forehead and glared sideways at his brothers as they approached the net. “How are we going to play with three?”
“Me and him against you,” Boomer explained, as if it were obvious.
“What?!”
“Really, to make it fair, we oughtta get another person on our team,” Butch muttered.
“Okay, now I need some popcorn,” Robin announced. “Please tell me someone brought popcorn.”
Brick was not going to be convinced and started back for the group.
“Forget it. You boys can go play with yoursel-”
Butch snatched the collar of his brother's shirt as he passed by and yanked him back, while Boomer grabbed an arm and started to wrestle him over to the net.
“Hey!”
“It's easier if you don't struggle,” Boomer grunted.
“Ha! That's what she said!” Butch chortled.
Suddenly Brick twisted out of his brothers' grips, a weird, sinewy movement-more of a slither, really-and turned to glare at them. His brothers blinked in confusion at the shirt they were clutching between them.
Several stifled girlish squeals echoed from the group. Blossom's burger somehow landed back in the fire pit. Buttercup inhaled her soda-literally-and started hacking it back up. Robin clutched at Bubbles.
“Please pinch me,” Robin hissed determinedly, “because I’m pretty sure Brick taking his shirt off would only happen in a dream.” On the other side of her, Kim furtively started snapping photos. Somewhere back behind them, Blossom located her hat and hid her red face behind it.
Boomer pouted. “Aww, Briiiiiiiiick! Play with us!”
“Brick, be nice to your brothers and play with them,” Bubbles said innocently.
He threw her a furious look. “Excuse me?! Who are you ordering around, exactly?”
She cocked her head. “Come to think of it, I'm not sure. This sun's pretty bright, and you don't have a shirt on. Could you come closer so I can get a better look?”
“No!”
“Hey!” Boomer cried. “I don't have a shirt on, either!”
“Good for you,” Bubbles said cheerfully. Boomer didn't seem comforted by this.
“Brick, you look pretty chilly,” he said, his tone deathly serious. “You'd better put this back on-”
A sudden green blast incinerated the shirt in Boomer's and Butch's hands. Everyone turned to look at Buttercup, steam rising off her mitt.
“Oops. How clumsy of me.”
Brick gaped at her. “You owe me a new shirt!”
“We can go get one now,” Buttercup said without skipping a beat. “Want to?”
“Wh-you just destroyed my clothing!”
“Buttercup!” Robin hissed at her. “Destroy more!”
The rest of the boys looked a bit put out. “Dude! Are we, like, not even here?”
“Shut up,” Buttercup, Robin, and Kim ordered.
“Weren't you guys going to play volleyball?” Bubbles asked.
Buttercup perked up. “Yes, volleyball. Some hot, sweaty volleyball. Doesn't that sound refreshing?”
Something clicked in Butch's brain. “Hey! Cut that out!”
“What? I'm just saying-”
“You're not allowed to find my brother hot!”
“Excuse me?” Blossom lowered her hat and glared. “Who are you to cast stones?”
“Are you hot, Brick?” Buttercup asked in a soothing voice. “Do you need some water? Like, to pour on you?”
Robin made a little fainting noise and Bubbles patted her back. Kim went right on using up the memory in her camera.
“I don't really feel like playing volleyball anymore,” Boomer mumbled bitterly.
Bubbles smiled. “Aw, I'll play with you.”
Boomer lit up. “Really?”
“Yeah.” She turned to Brick. “Brick, you can be on my team.”
Boomer made a strangled sort of noise and dove in front of Brick, blocking Bubbles' view of him.
“Bubbles! How could you?!”
“Buttercup!” Butch snapped. “His fucking face is up here!”
“Yeah, that's cool,” she said distractedly, not staring at his face at all. “Faces are cool. I've got one of those.”
Brick-who was mostly indifferent to the attention, but still sore about his shirt-glanced up at Blossom, who seemed to be trying to burrow into her hat. She was flushed, all the way down to her chest, and then she made the mistake of making eye contact with him. With her eyes just peeking out from under the brim of her hat and her teeth biting gently at her lip, the effect was-
Brick felt a sudden warmth rapidly expanding in his own chest and turned, stalking towards the water.
“I'm going swimming,” he announced.
“So am I,” Buttercup, Robin, and Kim immediately said, and strode forth.
“Why the fuck does this always happen?!” Butch clamored.
Boomer watched as Bubbles rustled through her things. “Aren't you going swimming?” he mumbled petulantly.
She smiled at him. “No. I'll stay here on the beach with you.”
He dropped the petulance and beamed at her. “You're the bestest, sweetest ever.”
“Besides,” she said, holding up a towel. “Someone's going to have to help Brick dry off when he gets out.”
She draped the towel over her arm and skipped past a blank-faced Boomer.
Over on the side, Blossom's hat muttered something dimly about going for a walk along the edge of the beach, then scuttled directly towards where Brick and the girls had gone.
The rest of the boys stared after them.
“Man,” Harry muttered. “Girls suck.”
Butch's gaze flitted from Blossom to her dark-haired sister, and then to his brother.
“No,” he muttered. “Brick sucks.”
(cont.)
Originally posted at http://essbeejay.dreamwidth.org/77515.html.