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TEF, it's all you, baby. Knock 'em dead. xoxo
Title: More Than Human
Chapter 1: Just An Old Friend Coming Over, or Blood Never Forgets
Pairing: RrB/PpG
Rating: R, 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: First and foremost and always for mathkid, who is constantly showing me that no matter how good I may think I am, I could always, always be better. And since that tends to work out for all parties involved, she deserves some major, major thanks.
More Than Human, Pt. 1 - Junior Spring Semester
Ch. 1 - Just An Old Friend Coming Over or Blood Never Forgets
-sbj-
The landscape of Townsville unfurled like a winter blanket underneath the dim glow of the morning sun as they approached the city. Blossom rolled down the car window a tad just for an inhale of the crisp January air. Next to her, Buttercup was fiddling with the zippers of her backpack, while Bubbles manned the radio in the front seat next to the Professor.
“Pretty morning,” Blossom said, more to herself than anything.
“I'd enjoy it more if I was asleep,” Buttercup yawned, thumping her head against the window.
“For someone who usually has no problem making her six o'clock practices every morning, you sure like to complain,” Bubbles observed.
The Professor sighed heavily, interrupting the litany of protests Buttercup was preparing to launch into. “Seniors in, what, eight months? I could've sworn I was just driving you guys to Townsville High's Freshman Orientation yesterday.”
“If you got me a car you wouldn't have to drive us anywhere,” Buttercup offered, her eyes lighting up.
“Nice try. You're still not getting a car till your 18th birthday,” the Professor said grimly. Buttercup pouted. “Besides, I like driving you girls to school.” He sighed again. “I was hoping I'd be able to do it a little longer.”
Bubbles turned her attention from the stereo to him. “What do you mean, Professor?”
“Now, you girls know I won’t be able to do this as often anymore,” the Professor said slowly, and eyed his girls in the rearview mirror. “I’ve hit a sort of… ‘rough spot’ with work, and I’ll have to put in more hours in the lab…”
Blossom met his eyes in the rearview and responded bravely, “Well, if it’s for the good of the people, I’d say that isn’t a problem.”
“We’ll miss you!”
“Bubbles, he’ll be right downstairs,” Buttercup said, exasperated. She watched the familiar flagpoles of the school come into view and continued, “Man, I’m gonna miss it when you’ve got this citywide security thing up and running and we’re not needed to go out and fight crime anymore-”
“I’m sure you’ll still do that, but I’d like you girls to live a little like… well, normal girls-”
Suddenly Buttercup’s eyes went wide and she took a heroic dive into Blossom’s lap.
“What are you doing?!” Blossom cried, indignant.
“Not letting him see me!” Buttercup hissed, as if it were blatantly obvious.
Bubbles peered out the window and instantly said, “Hey, it’s Mitch!”
“Stop looking at him, you idiot-DON’T WAVE! He’ll know I’m IN HERE!!”
Blossom was getting tired of having to be the sensible one. “Buttercup, this isn’t a very judicious way to deal with a breakup.”
“Did you ever date a friend, Blossom?” the girl in her lap snarled back.
“Will’s my friend,” Bubbles helpfully offered.
“You don’t count. You make friends with rocks and trees, Pocahontas.”
Bubbles turned to issue a sour look at Blossom’s lap.
“Buttercup, I’d rather you sit up,” Blossom said ominously. “That’s new clothing you’re wrinkling.”
Buttercup responded by shifting aggressively against said new clothing.
“Hey!”
“Professor, can you please let us off a little further down?”
The Professor sighed, “Buttercup…”
“Pleeeeeease? I really don’t want to talk to him…”
With another one of those loving sighs he did so well, he pulled the car further up and let them off behind a conveniently large bush next to the entrance.
“I love you with all my heart,” Buttercup said devoutly, and pecked him on the cheek before slipping out the door in a manner that she hoped epitomized stealth.
Bubbles kissed him too before whispering, “Just between you and me, I love you more.”
As she left Blossom inched up and asked, “Is everything going okay with work?”
“I’m okay if you girls are okay with it,” he answered, voice a little concerned. “Are you girls… okay?”
Blossom smiled and said, “We’re okay if you’re okay with it.”
A swift peck on the cheek, a “Love you, bye,” and Blossom stepped out into the frosty sunshine, the snow crunching underneath her new shoes.
***
Bubbles loved first days.
The way pockets of students clustered around them, socializing, laughing, catching up… the school was at its liveliest on first days, and Bubbles, well, loved life!
“I love life!” she announced to no one in particular, and Buttercup scowled beside her.
“Life sucks,” she muttered. “I’m going to go find the boys.”
“Mitch hangs out with the boys,” Bubbles piped cheerily.
Buttercup considered. “I’ll catch up with them later.”
“I wonder where Will is,” Bubbles wondered aloud, eyes shifting from crowd to crowd.
“Probably off making out with his football,” Buttercup quipped, and Bubbles glared at her.
“Hush. I kiss that mouth, you know.”
“Which only makes it more disgusting,” Buttercup responded automatically.
“What are you two fighting about now?” Blossom interrupted, just as Bubbles caught Robin’s eye and waved.
“Kissing dead pigs,” Buttercup answered, and Blossom made a face.
“Hey girls!” Robin exclaimed, giving each of them a hug in turn. “Buttercup, you cut your hair!”
Buttercup mumbled something and rubbed her neck, the back of her hand brushing the chin length strands.
“Hi Robin.” Blossom smiled as they pulled apart and asked, “So, how was the trip?”
“Eh, well, you know family get-togethers-after three days stuck together you’re ready to go postal on ‘em.”
“Funny,” Buttercup pondered, issuing a meaningful look at Bubbles. “I know exactly what you mean.”
Something behind the girls suddenly caught Robin’s attention, and with a quick glance at Buttercup she said loudly, “HELLO MITCH.”
Buttercup’s body gave a little jerk and she whipped around, coming face to face with The Ex.
“Hey Mitch!” Bubbles chirped, with a smug little grin on her face.
“Uh… hi,” Buttercup mumbled, avoiding eye contact. She self-consciously twitched a hand toward her hair. “Um… how ya been?”
Mitch ignored her and told Blossom, “Principal’s looking for you three.”
Buttercup made an indignant sort of face while Blossom furrowed her brow. “What for?”
“Didn’t say, but she seemed like she was in a hurry. I’d get to it if I was you.”
Without casting so much as a look at Buttercup, he brushed past them, leaving the dark-haired girl scowling in his wake.
“Who… who does he think he is, ignorin’ me like that?!”
“Apparently your ex,” Bubbles keenly observed, eliciting a death glare from Buttercup.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Who were you talking to, then? Since, you know, Mitch wasn’t listening.”
“Girls, cut it out,” Blossom said sharply. “C’mon. Robin, I guess we’ll catch up with you later.”
“Sure.” Robin waved as they left. “And by the way Blossom, I love the outfit!”
A proud little smile lit up Blossom’s face, to which Buttercup responded, “Too bad it does little to cover up your ego.”
Bubbles decisively looked in the other direction as Blossom readied herself to deliver a sharp retort, but was distracted by an unknown student. The smile he flashed at Blossom was of bold, senior-worthy status, though judging by the books in his arms he couldn’t have been more than a sophomore.
“Nice threads,” he said affably, eyes lingering on her as he passed.
“Um, thanks,” she said with a blush. For all the attention she got from the male gender, she still managed to look surprised every time instances like these occurred. And oh, did they occur. Frequently.
“Turn that over-conditioned, over-brushed, over-inflated red head of yours back around before you cause a collision,” Buttercup snapped.
Blossom glared and said in a clipped voice, “Maybe if you paid more attention to making yourself presentable, you could spend less time being jealous of the attention I get.”
“Like I’d be jealous of the kind of attention that gets girls kidnapped and ra-”
“Will!” Bubbles suddenly shrieked, bowling over Blossom in her rush to her boyfriend’s extended arms.
“Baby!”
Blossom and Buttercup, for all their differences, made faces of equal distaste at the generic and yet stomach-churning nickname that had been bestowed on their sister.
Blissfully unaware of their reactions, Bubbles laughed as she lightly kissed Will on the lips. “Hi!”
“Hey, so I saw your shoe ad on the way to school-”
Bubbles gasped and jumped back, her hands flying to her already reddening cheeks. “Oh my God! You didn’t!”
“-And you just looked so hot on that billboard I couldn’t wait to get here and see you,” he finished, as Buttercup gagged in the background. Her ill-masked hacking drew his attention to the Powerpuffs he wasn’t currently dating, and after a moment’s thought, he added, “You two looked good too.”
Blossom smiled politely. Buttercup bared her teeth in an overzealous simper before she resumed looking sick.
“So…” Will said, drawing out the word as he played with one of Bubbles’ pigtails. “Wanna go-”
“Sorry, Will,” Blossom interrupted, grabbing a very distracted Bubbles by the arm. “We’re all supposed to be meeting with Ms. Keane right now.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Bubbles said, despondency settling over her features.
What should’ve ended the conversation there dragged out a minute longer than it had to, and Buttercup griped at length about it for the rest of their trek to Principal Keane’s.
“You know, when I was dating, I didn’t need to take an entire five minutes just to say ‘Good-bye’ to Mitch.”
“I thought you didn’t get the chance to,” Bubbles shot back. “Since he did it first-”
“You’re treading on thin ice, sister,” Buttercup snarled.
Blossom sighed, again assuming the role of The Sensible One, and quietly marveled that the three of them could exude such polarities in their sisterly relationship. These insults and quibbles over boyfriends, current and former, had been nonexistent when she and Bubbles had opened the door over a month ago on a desolate Buttercup, reeling from immediate post-breakup trauma. Her first and only post-breakup trauma.
The passing thought that she was now the only sister who had yet to suffer from such an affliction inspired a twinge of jealousy. Of the three of them, she had expected Buttercup to be the last one to throw herself into any sort of romantic relationship, much less get depressed about it after throwing herself out.
As they reached the door to the Main Office and she shushed her sisters, she reassured herself that she had long ago decided that the tenuous nature of the High School Relationship was, while thrilling, undesirable on the whole, and that a mature young woman such as herself would only engage in one if a more than appropriate suitor showed up, one unfettered by High School Ignorance, High School Drama, and, over all things, High School Immaturity.
Of course, High School being High School, said suitor was long in coming.
Pushing these thoughts aside with much pragmatism, she gave her sisters one last look that urged them to Please, Be Serious for A Moment, and, stretching a concerned smile on her face, opened the door.
“Ms. Keane,” she started, “you asked to see-”
But it wasn’t Ms. Keane who greeted them, and the audience that did instigated an immediate defensive reaction. She and her sisters froze as the door shut behind them.
“What are you doing here.” Blossom hated how her voice wavered when she said it. She could feel her sisters’ muscles tense, in sync with her own.
Boomer leant against the wall, a lazy, haphazard grin on his face as his eyes flickered to the girls, then to his brothers. Butch had perched himself on the corner of the unoccupied secretary’s desk, and, with a total lack of regard for personal space, was reaching for various items on its surface and casually examining them. He cast the girls a perfunctory glance, left his eyes on them long enough to smirk, then returned his attention to the nameplate in his hands.
Brick was the only one of them that stood rigid, with his hands in his pockets and his back facing them. He took a moment before slowly swiveling his head round and leveling his eyes with Blossom's. Unlike his brothers, there wasn’t even the slightest trace of a smile on his face. His expression was cool, detached, and she almost shivered at the sight of it.
“What are you doing here,” she repeated, but neither of his brothers looked back at them, and he only continued to stare.
“She asked you three a question,” Buttercup chimed in, her voice hard. “If you aren’t going to answer, then get the fuck out.”
“Buttercup,” Blossom said sternly, and that seemed to get their attention. Butch’s gaze slid back up and focused on them, the ever-present smirk widening, while Boomer’s eyes merely wandered back over.
Butch set down the nameplate with a thump and began to stand, and Brick turned his head to him and opened his mouth to speak-
A door in the back opened suddenly, and the plump little woman that was the office secretary came scurrying out. “Girls!” she cried, in a voice that was clearly attempting composure and failing impressively, “F-f-fantastic of you to come! Could I, um, maybe see you girls in Ms. Keane's office? Maybe? And, um-I’m sorry, please put that down, sir-”
Butch had picked up a heavy glass paperweight and was tossing it from hand to hand. He didn’t look up. “‘Sir,’ huh?” He looked back at his brothers, grinning. “I’m gonna like it here.”
Buttercup pushed forward and snatched the paperweight out of the air, slamming it back down on the desk and denting the wood. “Not for long,” she said in a low voice. His lip curled into a sneer and he reached for the paperweight again.
“Girls!” Ms. Naylor squeaked. “Office, please?!”
Blossom glanced at Bubbles, then started to follow Ms. Naylor down the hall. Buttercup held back, eyes hard, then finally shouldered past Butch and followed in her sisters’ wake.
Butch resumed smirking at his brothers as the door in the back shut. “Off to a great start.”
“You’re such a jackass,” Boomer laughed, turning his eyes to the windows that overlooked the first story of the school.
Brick sighed and lifted his cap for a brief moment to run his hand through his hair. “This was a terrible idea,” he muttered, a grim look on his face. If his brothers had heard him, they didn’t pay him any mind.
“The redhead’s even better looking in person,” he heard Butch say conspiratorially to Boomer, and Brick instantly made a threatening noise in the back of his throat as he directed a glare at the two of them.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“I’m just sayin’!” Butch said defensively, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Just pointing out why exactly I’m gonna like it here.”
“What the hell are those three doing in our school?!” Buttercup’s shriek carried well into the main part of the office.
Butch threw back his head and laughed. “Really. I’m really gonna like it here.”
***
“Buttercup, watch your language,” Blossom growled through gritted teeth.
Bright green eyes flashed back at her, but Buttercup clamped her mouth shut.
Bubbles held a hand over her mouth, brow knit deep in thought. “Shouldn’t someone be keeping an eye on them out there?”
“Bubbles is right,” Buttercup immediately chimed in. “This is a public school. High school, no less. We’ve got enough idiots running around, we don’t need idiots with superpowers adding to it.”
Blossom took a deep breath and focused on Ms. Naylor, who continued to wring her hands nervously and looked anxiously from Powerpuff to Powerpuff to Powerpuff and back.
“Ms. Naylor,” Blossom started slowly, and three pairs of eyes immediately swept to her.
Blossom made sure to keep her tone cool, composed. “What are these three doing in the school?”
Ms. Naylor drew herself up fretfully and attempted a voice as steady as Blossom’s. “Well, girls, recently there was a bit of redistricting of the… the school districts, and as it is, these boys will be attending our school as a result-”
“But the Rowdyruff Boys haven’t been around for a long time,” Bubbles interjected. “We haven’t seen them around, period, for the last, like, five years.”
“And we even went looking for them,” Buttercup added. “And nothing. We thought they’d jumped town.”
“They did,” Blossom said thoughtfully. “We scoured the town for them for weeks, and kept coming up empty.”
“So what are they doing back?” Bubbles asked, and was met with silence.
Ms. Naylor coughed uncomfortably, and each girl broke out of their thoughts, directing their attention to her. She had a distasteful look on her face, as if she was going to regret what she was about to say. “We’ve been assured in an anonymous letter that the boys are going to behave, but…”
“But you don’t trust whoever sent it,” Blossom finished flatly.
The nervous woman nodded.
“And you want us to keep an eye on them.”
She nodded again.
Blossom took a deep breath. “Does Principal Keane know about this?”
Suddenly the woman in question emerged, looking weary and a little frustrated. “I know about it, alright,” she muttered, then held out a sheaf of papers to the girls. “Ms. Naylor, you're excused. Here, girls.”
The three of them obediently took them. “What’s this?” Buttercup asked suspiciously, stepping aside so Ms. Naylor could exit the office.
“Your new schedules,” Ms. Keane said, and the girls immediately snapped their heads up. “In order for us to keep tabs on the boys at all times, we’ve readjusted your schedules-”
“What?!” Buttercup and Bubbles exclaimed as one. Blossom simply resumed studying her schedule, brow furrowed.
“I know, girls,” Ms. Keane sighed.
“That’s not fair!” Buttercup cried.
“You haven’t even taken a good look at yours yet, Buttercup,” Ms. Keane grumbled, wrinkling her nose. “You’ll probably prefer it to your old one.”
Blinking, Buttercup looked back at the papers in her hand.
“Ms. Keane,” Blossom said slowly, eyes glued to her schedule, “my classes are all the same.”
“I’ve been dropped from all my pre-AP classes,” Buttercup said, trying to mask her glee. She’d only signed up for them at the Professor’s insistence, and the joy in her voice was unmistakable. At Blossom’s glare, though, she adopted a more solemn expression.
Bubbles was staring at hers, looking a little hurt. “I don’t… my lunch is different. I can’t eat with Will.” She was holding two sheets in her hand, and her eyes darted from one to the other. “And… how come I have two different first periods?”
The look on Ms. Keane’s face was suddenly soft and apologetic. “Well, honey, I’m afraid that with this adjustment, you’ll have to give up one of your electives-”
“I have to choose between Honors Chorale and Cheer Squad?!” Bubbles said, voice rising in pitch and sounding distressed. “I can’t have both?!”
“I’m sorry, Bubbles,” Ms. Keane said, meaning it.
“But… but Buttercup and Blossom get to keep theirs!”
Buttercup raised a hand. “Um, actually, I was dropped from those Pre-AP classes-”
“You weren’t even looking forward to those,” Bubbles said bitterly. “Ms. Keane, I don’t get it! How come you can’t drop Buttercup from, from Basketball, or Blossom from-”
“Bubbles, I’m sorry, I did want it to be fairer, but the superintendent… well, your sisters just… happen to really excel in their school activities-”
The stunned look on the blonde’s face silenced her. “I still don’t get it…”
“Because I make high grades and Buttercup wins athletic competitions,” Blossom interjected, trying to keep her voice neutral. “And that brings the school a lot of prestige.”
Buttercup looked a little pleased with herself all the sudden, while Bubbles was clearly hurt. “But… I’ve been on the Cheer Squad since I was a freshman.” She looked down at her schedules again. “And… I just got into Honors Chorale… I had to audition and everything…”
“You have to choose, Bubbles,” Ms. Keane said firmly.
The poor girl didn’t seem to have any idea which option would be worse. Blossom gently put a hand on Bubbles’ shoulder and asked Ms. Keane, “So what classes do we share with the boys?”
Ms. Keane bit her lip, looking apologetic again. “Well, it's just Buttercup and Bubbles, actually, who share classes with the boys.” Before the shocked girls could interrupt again, Ms. Keane hurriedly elaborated, “Blossom is in all the Advanced Placement courses, and we can't place any of the boys in those-”
“You can't bump her out?” Buttercup cried, and Blossom and Ms. Keane gave her a sharp look.
“They didn't bump you out of Basketball or Volleyball for the exact same reason,” Blossom said sternly.
“Yeah, but...” Buttercup trailed off, unsure how to continue. “Well, it just isn't fair.”
“Gee, it sure isn't, huh Buttercup,” Bubbles said in a monotone, clearly feeling no sympathy.
Blossom's face was still serious as she looked at Buttercup. “Are you saying you need help watching them?” she ventured cautiously.
Buttercup's offended glare was enough of an answer. “Don't even joke.”
Ms. Keane was looking at Bubbles again. “Have you made a choice yet, Bubbles? Choir or Cheerleading?”
Bubbles closed her eyes and sighed, handing one of the schedules back to Ms. Keane. Ms. Keane glanced at it and grinned. “Dr. Wendell will be delighted to add your voice to the choir.”
“Yeah,” Bubbles mumbled. “But Coach Morris is going to kill me.”
“He'll get over it, sweetie,” Ms. Keane assured her. The smile on her face dissolved as she glanced at the door.
Blossom gave her a wry smile. “Wishing you were back teaching Kindergarten about now?”
The Principal sighed and rolled her eyes. “Believe it or not, Blossom, when you get right down to the heart of it, kindergarteners and high schoolers have a lot more in common than you'd think."
***
The boys were almost exactly as they'd left them. Blossom stepped ahead of her sisters as they filed back into the main office, taking care to look all three of them in the eye. Butch winked as their eyes met, and she felt Buttercup bristle behind her.
Ms. Keane came forward to stand between them and extended a palm to indicate each of the boys in turn. “Boomer, Brick, Butch.” She indicated the girls. “Blossom, Bubbles, Buttercup. Though I'm sure you don't exactly need a formal introduction.”
“Thank you, Ms. Keane,” Blossom said, and locked eyes with Brick. His gaze hardened.
Ms. Keane cleared her throat and continued. “Now, boys, I feel it's only fair to let you all know that, save for your free periods which are to be spent here in the office for the first few weeks, the girls will be sharing regular classes with you-”
Brick's jaw went tight, Blossom noted.
“Not that we don't feel you're... trustworthy-”
“Ha!” Butch laughed.
“But we just want to ensure everyone's safety. I'm sure you understand?”
“Perfectly,” Brick said quietly.
Ms. Keane's smile was thin. “Wonderful. I don't think there's anything to worry about, honestly. The girls will be sure to give you more space in time, based on good behavior, of course.”
“I'm sure they could show us a thing or two about good behavior,” Butch leered.
“Don't encourage us,” Buttercup snarled.
“Anyway,” Ms. Keane interrupted, “since we’re none of us enemies here-”
Butch and Buttercup snorted and scoffed, respectively.
“-The least we can do is be civil and treat each other with respect and dignity,” she continued, raising her voice a little as she glared at the two of them.
“That won’t be a problem, Principal Keane,” Blossom answered.
“My thoughts precisely,” Brick agreed, his voice a near-growl. Neither broke eye contact, not even to glance at their siblings.
“Now, I know it’ll seem a little juvenile to do so, but I’d like us all to shake on it.” Ms. Keane’s crisp tone was punctuated by an indication of her hand between the two parties.
Brick’s face twitched, a brief hesitation, and Blossom instantly extended her hand, trying to keep the triumphant sneer from her expression. The look of disgust that replaced his surprise felt like sweet victory. She allowed her Politican’s Smile to creep onto her face as she opened her mouth to say-
“We respectfully decline.” Buttercup’s voice suddenly cut through the air, twisting like a knife in Blossom’s gut. She whirled around to face her sister, but Buttercup’s eyes were dark and focused intently on the trio opposite them. “Respectfully,” she added, her lip curling.
Blossom narrowed her eyes at Buttercup, but she still paid her no mind.
“Respectfully accepted.” The tone of Brick’s voice was sickeningly smug, and as Blossom turned back to him she caught the faintest glimmer of satisfaction flashing across his face before it resumed its compassionless expression. “Till class, then.”
Like Ms. Keane, Blossom was shocked at the sheer… audacity of what had just taken place. Worse yet, this unspoken battle had just ended in a draw for her.
Unacceptable, she thought, as Brick curtly nodded at Ms. Keane and turned for the door.
Unacceptable.
“Hey.” Her concentration was shattered by Butch’s sudden attention, and he sneered at her before he could step out the door. “I love your outfit.”
Then his eyes lingered, and then they lingered, and before she had the sense to react appropriately he was already gone.
Blossom whirled on Buttercup, livid. “Do you have any idea what you just did?!” she hissed.
“I got them out of my sight,” Buttercup grumbled. “Mission accomplished.”
“Except that that’s the exact opposite of what we’re supposed to do,” Bubbles interjected. Ms. Keane started to herd the girls back out into the school.
“Bubbles is right,” Blossom said in a low voice as they nodded at the Principal and huddled in the hall. “Keep an eye on them. Don't let a single one of them out of your sight.” A city full of aging villains and a maturing superhero team saw less and less action these days. The girls' skills had only improved as they grew, and their relentless patrolling of the city had discouraged fledgling villains from emerging. With the boys back now, though...
Blossom was already planning emergency weekend training in her head. They couldn't afford to be complacent at a time like this. Occasional monster attacks would not keep them fresh enough if the boys decided to stir up trouble.
She shook her head and looked each of her sisters in the eye, in turn. “I’m going to see you guys later,” Blossom said distractedly. “I really-really-need to go wind down some before dance starts.”
Buttercup and Bubbles nodded, watching their leader as she crossed the school atrium and turned the corner that would take her through the gym and to the small dance studio. The boys were clustered at the north end of the big space. The one in green turned his head, watching Blossom disappear down the hall. Buttercup made a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a snarl.
“What do you think they're doing back?” Bubbles said as Boomer caught sight of the two of them and gave them a friendly wave. They ignored him.
Buttercup thought for a long moment. “I don't know,” she finally said, eyes on Brick as he stared off into space, his attention far away. “But something tells me this is gonna be one hell of a semester.”
***
Blossom grabbed a CD out of her locker and made her way to the empty studio. The smile was on her face before she even set foot on the hardwood. She slipped her CD into the stereo and studied her expression in the mirror.
The boys were manageable. Maybe. Hopefully. They just had to keep on their toes-So to speak, she reflected, bouncing on her little stumps for feet. The music started up and she shook out her limbs, and within minutes she was stretching her tension away, a blissful smile on her face as she danced through the studio, with Brick, Boomer, and Butch the least of her concerns.
After about twenty minutes or so, other girls in the Townsville High Dance Company began filtering in. Some joined Blossom in warming up, while others started stretching in social little pockets along the wall.
“Hey, Junior Lieut.” Blossom looked up as Alicia, the Major, joined her. “You're looking far, far away this morning.”
Blossom sighed. The Company Director walked into the studio, clapping for the girls to come to attention-the Dance IV class would be joining them soon, she was saying. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Just... a lot on my mind.”
“Blossom!” The Director, Mrs. Olson, waved at her, and she dutifully came running. Mrs. Olson handed her a folder. “Do me a favor?”
***
“Ohhhh, damn.” Butch eyed Blossom from across the atrium with much appreciation. “That girl’s got her glow on.”
Boomer and Brick looked up, the former with more interest than the latter. “You think?”
He turned back towards them with a knowing look as the first bell rang. “The bounce in her step? That smile? That little ‘hip thing’ she’s doin’? Hah! I know post-coital bliss when I see it, and she’s radiating it in tidal waves.” He looked at her again as she made her way to the East Hall, oblivious to the attention. “Wonder who she’s been banging in the locker rooms.”
“Blossom? The girl doesn’t strike me as the type,” Boomer said, amused.
“Type or no, she’s smokin’ up and down the hall,” Butch said, observing the heads that turned as she maneuvered her way through the crowds. “If I want a slice of that, I gotta move fast.”
Brick rolled his eyes. “Good luck getting her to ‘serve’ it to you,” he said derisively.
“Always such a pessimist.” With a smirk and a nod at his brothers, Butch strode off, a predatory glint in his eye.
“Well, at least Butch is having fun,” Boomer remarked, turning to Brick.
“As long as there are skirts to chase, of course he’s gonna have fun.”
Boomer eyed his brother. “For someone who’s supposed to be ‘on vacation,’ you don’t seem like you’re having any fun.”
Brick sighed. “You. You’re a freakin’ rocket scientist, Boomer. Now get your ass to class. I’ll catch you later.”
***
Butch loved walking past people.
He loved the way they scampered out of the way as they saw him coming, fled to corners and walls like the pests they were. He loved how still and silent they got as he breezed past them, as if he was royalty. More than anything, though, he loved how they would instantly explode into ill-masked whispers and chatter the moment they thought he was out of earshot.
Butch simply loved being the center of attention.
Blossom continued on ahead of him, unaware of her pursuer or the hungry spark in his eye. She disappeared as she rounded a corner, and as Butch approached and rounded it himself-
Buttercup stood leaning against the corner, that murderous look in her eyes again.
His shoes squeaked against the tile in his effort to avoid a head on collision. “Well.”
“Stay away from her,” Buttercup growled.
He smirked. “Who?”
“I saw the way you were eyeing her from the second story landing,” she explained, jerking her head upward. “And don’t even think about it.”
“You know, I think about a lot of things,” Butch shrugged nonchalantly. “Which thought should I not be thinking right now?”
Buttercup straightened and took a threatening step forward. “Anything involving my sister,” she said in a dark voice.
Butch considered. “And the ones that involve you?”
“Unless they involve me kicking your ass, I recommend you avoid thinking about those, too,” she snarled. “Now get the hell out of here.”
He lowered his head and preened. “Make me.”
Buttercup glowered at him before making a sudden grab at the back pocket of his jeans and snaking away from him to examine his schedule.
Butch blinked in surprise and gave her an appreciative look. He hadn’t even managed to slip a thinly veiled suggestive comment at what had appeared to be Buttercup copping a feel before she’d kleptoed his schedule.
“That was a slick move,” he admired, and her eyes flicked to him but she mostly ignored him.
Suddenly her eyes widened. “Oh, you’ve gotta be BS’ing me.” She looked up. “This is your next class.”
He snatched his schedule back and confirmed it with a glance. “Huh! What a coincidence.” His eyes narrowed and shifted back to hers, a sly grin on his face. “So I guess I’ll just go spend some ‘quality time’ with Blossom-”
“Excuse me?” Blossom said from behind him, suspicion etched all over her face.
“Speak of the hot, post-coital devil,” Butch chirped. “Do tell, who was the lucky guy?”
She granted him a steely look and shouldered past him. “Buttercup, good luck.”
Buttercup looked like she was going to be sick. Blossom grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly before briskly walking back down the hall, issuing another glare at Butch as she passed.
He was baffled. “Where are you going?”
She turned and gave him a funny look. “Back to class!”
“What? You mean this isn’t it?!”
She came to a full stop and appeared to struggle with the thought of answering him. “I was just dropping something off.”
Butch turned his gaze on Buttercup. “Then why did you make such a big deal about this being my next class?”
“Because,” Buttercup said in a flat, miserable tone, “this is my next class.”
So much for the hot, fiery redhead suffering from post-coital glow.
“I cannot believe my luck,” Buttercup said wretchedly as she shuffled past him into the room.
Butch stared remorsefully at Blossom’s hot, retreating back. Oh, those hips. Those legs! Those… hips and legs! “You kiddin’ me?” he wailed. “I can’t believe mine.”
***
Blossom would've been a far preferable classmate than Buttercup. The latter had the personality of a rabid pitbull and was particularly prone to flying off the handle any time Butch made the tiniest expression of interest in the female form. Her mood did not improve when he asked her why the leash around her neck was missing.
It was a simple question, and it wasn't his safety he was concerned about, but rather, the numerous pieces of feminine eye candy that were bound to get in the way if she suddenly decided to go all Psycho Bitch on his ass. The rabid pitbull did not appreciate the comment.
This went on for two classes-they shared both English and Chemistry together. Both his brothers were in the former, but as luck would have it Butch and Buttercup were seated right next to each other, ensuring she aimed most of her foaming in his direction. At least he'd managed to edge Brick between them for Chemistry so her attention was more evenly split between the two of them, leaving Butch free to ogle the finer looking girls when she was busy glaring at his brother. Eventually the bell signaling the end of second period rang, and judging from the direction they were all headed, they shared the early lunch period.
They lost each other in the crowd of students on the way to the cafeteria, and as fun as it was to antagonize a snarling dog, Butch was secretly glad to be out of her sight. He bypassed the line in favor of finding a seat, sweeping his gaze over the crowded lunchroom. As it had been in the classrooms, several students gave him looks ranging anywhere from wary to curious to curious-and-then-some, with the final category containing a remarkably high percentage of the female student body. He suddenly felt terribly pleased with himself.
“Okay, that shit in there they're calling food? Not eating it,” Brick’s somber voice suddenly growled beside him, and to Butch’s dismay the faces that had been furtively tilted in his direction were now expressing either abject terror or an emotion that went far past curious-and-then-some territory. He turned and scowled at Brick. His brother had an uncanny knack for inspiring those kinds of reactions wherever he went.
“I’m going to go out and get something that doesn't make me want to throw up,” Brick muttered, and started heading for the doors.
“I’d ask you to get me something,” Butch started-
“And I’d tell you to ‘fuck off,’” Brick retorted-
“Except we’re not supposed to leave the building,” Butch interrupted smugly, smirking as his brother stopped and tensed. “You must be in a bad mood if I’m having to remind you about direct orders-”
“Orders from who?”
The boys turned to see Buttercup, angry sparks in her eyes as she looked from one to the other.
Brick grimaced while Butch sneered, “Your Principal.”
“I was only asking to be polite,” she snarled back. “Now sit down.”
“Pass,” Brick said, suddenly disinterested. “I'm going to the library.”
“No lunch?” Buttercup asked suspiciously.
“If that's what you're calling that garbage they're serving, then no,” he said abruptly.
She scrutinized him a second longer, then caught sight of Bubbles entering the cafeteria. She raised her hand. “Bubbles! Get over here.”
Bubbles, who’d been chatting happily amongst friends, visibly stiffened when she saw the audience that accompanied Buttercup.
“Yes, Buttercup?” she said warily as she approached, eyeing the boys.
Buttercup jerked her head in Brick’s direction. “Save your lunch for Art. Right now you need to escort this guy to the library.”
Several expressions were thrown at her at once: nervous shock from Bubbles, indignant fury from Brick, and ill-reserved glee from Butch.
“Dude! You’ve got a babysitter!” he cackled.
“Shut up,” Brick and Buttercup said in unison, voices equally dark.
Brick turned to Bubbles, who recovered from her initial surprise and met his condescending gaze with level eyes.
The adorable blonde girl astonished everybody as she indicated the door and said flatly, “After you.”
“Hey,” Boomer said amicably as he came up. “What's up?”
“You know, I've only got one class with you so far, and I'm already sick of seeing that stupid grin on your face,” Buttercup grumbled, narrowing her eyes at him.
“You're coming with us to the library,” Brick told him, and Boomer's face fell. Buttercup caught the sudden nervousness that flickered across her sister's face and tried to give her a reassuring look.
“But I'm starving!” Boomer protested.
“Deal.” With a final chilling glare at the lot of them, Brick brushed past them, Bubbles determinedly on his heels. Boomer bit his lip, then sighed and dutifully followed.
Now a party of two, Buttercup turned to Butch. “And you?” she said brusquely. “Are you eating or not?”
He gave her a long look before turning to the set of vending machines not two steps away. After acquiring a bag of chips he smirked back at her as he popped it open. “I am.”
“Clever choice,” she admitted.
“So I take it you’re my babysitter?” Butch said conversationally.
“Don’t call me that,” Buttercup snapped. “Go find a seat.”
Butch shrugged. “Whatever you say, Mom.” He smirked as he walked forward, feeling her glaring daggers into his back. With their banter having reached a standstill, both were suddenly aware of the tense, dead silence in the cafeteria and every other student’s eyes on them.
Buttercup’s face suddenly did this weird, scary thing-he could feel it, even though he couldn’t see it-and suddenly the cafeteria exploded into typical high school socializing, with some strange, stilted undercurrent that seemed to intensify as the two of them approached the tables.
Butch was suddenly reminded of his mission, and studied the clusters of students they passed. Jocks, no; geeks, God no; cheerleaders-eventually yes, but for now no. He needed someone who could feed him essential information, better yet, a group of someones who could tell him exactly what he needed to know.
“Pick up the pace,” Buttercup snapped impatiently behind him. “You’ve cut into enough of my lunch period as it is.”
He would’ve thrown a retort back at her, but he suddenly found himself staring at precisely the clique he had been looking for, seated just east of primo cafeteria parking. Good. Neither distinctly popular nor so far off the beaten path that they were relegated to the ass end of the cafeteria.
The group of guys he was advancing towards ceased their conversation. With one of those amicable-yet-threatening smiles he did so well, he nodded at an empty seat and said, “Make some room?”
The guy next to it exchanged a brief glance with the rest of the group, flicked his eyes behind Butch, then said carefully, “Sure.”
Success. Butch sat down and inclined his head in some semblance of a greeting, then noticed that-save for the boy who’d spoken-everyone’s eyes were on Buttercup. He turned. Apparently she’d stopped a few spaces back, and the expression on her face was suddenly guarded.
He blinked, then sneered, “Join us?”
She visibly stiffened. With a dark look in his direction, she said, “I can watch you just as easily from the other end of the room,” and turned away, waving at a group a couple of tables down.
“Hmph.” He turned back to the group to find all pairs of eyes darting glances at the guy beside him.
Butch could only take so much strange, uncomfortable silence. “So I’m Butch,” he finally said, emptying a handful of chips into his mouth.
The guys fell into line. That was more like it.
“Floyd.”
“Lloyd.”
“Twins,” the guy next to the twins clarified. “I’m Harry.”
“Mike,” said the only guy who looked completely out of place, owing to the letter jacket draped over his shoulders.
“I’m Mitch.” The guy sitting beside him was still eyeing him warily. “Um… how’s it going?”
“Great. But look, I’m gonna be straight with you all, I don’t do small talk. I zeroed in on you because I need some information.”
“Oh, geez.” Mike, on the other side of Mitch, made a bit of a groaning noise, while the other four suddenly seemed very on edge.
“What kind of ‘information?’” Mitch asked, eyes a little wild with suspicion.
“Drugs?” Lloyd asked, and Harry whacked him in the arm.
Butch shook his head. “Not drugs, but remind me to ask you about that later.”
“Look, we’re not a gang or anything,” Mitch started-
“I couldn’t give a shit about that,” Butch said dismissively. “Believe it or not, I’m not actually here to make trouble.” He paused. “Sort of. Anyway, I need you guys to break down the real estate here for me.”
“‘Real estate?’” All of them were exchanging befuddled glances now.
“Girls,” Butch said plainly. “Break down the food chain for me, and start at the top.”
Mitch continued with the suspicious looking. “What's your angle?”
Butch snorted, as if it were obvious. “I'm not even going to try to make that sexual. I told you, I just want you guys to tell me who's on the list of Girls Worth the Time of Day, starting with the ones at the top.”
“Starting with Untouchables?” Floyd said incredulously.
“Yes. Wait, Untouchables? What exactly does that mean?”
The other twin considered for a moment. “Untouchables are... basically the ones who are way out of everyone's league. You know, like super high standards, they rarely ever date...” He exchanged more uncomfortable looks with the rest of the guys. “You really want us to start there?”
“Why not? We all need a goal in life, don’t we?” Butch grinned. “I wanna know who the hottest girls in the school are-seriously, the ones that every single guy in this room would give his left nut to be with.”
The guys exchanged looks. “Well, if you really want to know,” Harry said, hesitant, “it’s the Girls.”
After a moment, Butch furrowed his brow. “Um, which girls, dude.”
“No, he means, The Girls,” Floyd said.
“The Powerpuff Girls,” Lloyd added.
Butch wrinkled his face, recalling his previous episodes with Buttercup. They weren’t fucking serious, were they? “You’re not fucking serious, are you?” he scoffed. “I mean, shit, I won’t argue with you about Blossom, and Bubbles I can get, but Buttercup? Really?”
Every guy at the table suddenly seemed very defensive. “Look, man, you haven’t been around for a few years or something, right?” Lloyd pointed out. “Those girls are, like, prime.”
“I mean, the thing with Bubbles is a little weird-she’s not really an Untouchable, but she’s still crazy cute and looks fantastic in her Cheerleading uniform.”
“And Blossom’s like a fucking dream-she’s insanely smart, right, but she’s hot, like, one look at her and you’re sunk, you know-”
“Great walk-”
“And oh man, wait till you see her dance-”
“But what about Buttercup?” Butch snorted, darting a glance at the surly girl who was glaring at him from across the cafeteria. “Are you seriously telling me that she's got a spot on top of this list?”
The guys all looked very grim. Mitch took a loud slurp of his soda.
Harry sighed. “She’s the freaking star athlete of the school, man.”
“She’s a bit of a hardass.”
“She’s a bit kickass, really.”
“She doesn’t take shit from anyone.”
“She acts like she’s one of the guys.”
“Dude, there’re even chicks who dig her.”
“Do you really expect me to be surprised by that?” Butch said dryly.
“Look look look,” Floyd interrupted, shaking his head and holding up his hands. “The point is, even though she’s, um, the ‘scariest’ one of the three, and the one most likely to rip your balls off if you get near her, the girl definitely qualifies as Prime Real Estate.”
“Like Dream House Real Estate.”
“Like you’ve got better odds at winning the Lotto than this piece of property.”
Butch was laughing, incredulous. “I don’t-”
“Look at it this way,” Harry pointed out. “The fact is, the three of them are celebrities. They’re public figures. Good looking public figures. Good looking public figures that fight monsters and protect the city.”
“And look good doing it,” Floyd added, in case Butch hadn't gotten the memo.
“They’re famous,” Harry continued. “They’re popular. I mean, they do freaking everything-one’s a cheerleader, one’s an athlete, one’s a freaking genius, and they just got this crazy high profile endorsement gig over the summer and that’s just like the tip of the iceberg. They’re so far out of everyone’s league that it’s impossible for them not to be considered Prime Real Estate.”
“Have you seen those ads? For the shoes?”
“Oh Jesus, I love those shoe ads…”
“Those things were advertising shoes? I thought they were advertising wet dreams.”
“And the city puts them all over everything.”
“Butch, you have to admit that a girl who can kick your ass, while frightening and emasculating on the one hand, is sickeningly hot and sexy on the other,” Mike pointed out, finally joining in the conversation. “So Buttercup might not float every guy’s boat, but for a lot of the guys in the room, she’s definitely worth losing your left nut over.”
“Plus I’ve heard rumor her secret power is in her tongue,” Lloyd said solemnly.
The other side of the table seemed to take a moment in silent contemplation of the thought. Butch, Mitch, and Mike only stared at their slack expressions.
“So, okay, the Girls are cream of the crop here,” Butch finally conceded. He took a moment to reminisce about the heavenly vision that was Blossom's legs as they (unfortunately) carried her away from him.
Harry shrugged. “Bubbles is probably your easiest shot. Though she's ever only dated jocks.”
“That stems more from a lack of other guys asking her,” Mike immediately said.
“Says the one jock at the table who’s ever dated her,” muttered Mitch.
“Hey, I’m just saying I know her, we’re old friends, you know-”
Butch wasn’t really interested. “And Buttercup and Blossom are definitely Untouchables-one because she’s a Scary Psycho Freak Who Devours Men Whole, and the other because…” He paused. “Hold up. Why exactly is Blossom considered an Untouchable?”
“Dude,” Harry groaned. “Didn’t we just tell you like five seconds ago?”
“No man, I mean, what’s her deal? Who does she date?”
“Nobody,” the guys all said in unison.
“And it’s not for lack of trying,” Floyd said. “Guys are always asking her out. She just always says, ‘No.’”
“Hell if we know why,” Lloyd shrugged.
Mitch suddenly stood, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I’ll see you guys later. I wanna beat the Lunch rush when the bell goes off.” After a pause, he said, “Nice meeting you.”
Butch waved distractedly in the boy's direction. “Huh,” he said thoughtfully as Mitch edged out behind him. “I never would’ve guessed Buttercup would classify as an Untouchable.” He made a face.
The guys kept exchanging looks. Butch stared at them. “What the fuck? Do you all have a mad boner for her or something?”
“No,” Floyd, Lloyd, and Harry all said simultaneously, vigorously shaking their heads.
Mike moved over, taking Mitch's seat so he was sitting right next to Butch. “She just used to hang with us guys.”
Butch looked up in surprise. “What?”
The twins shifted in their seats. “She used to hang with us,” Floyd repeated. “We were a... really tight group.”
“It’s actually kinda weird, not having her sit with us,” Harry said, chancing a glance in her direction.
“Huh. Guess I fucked it up for the group today, yeah?” Butch smirked.
Harry shook his head. “No fucking way she’d sit here anyway. Not after the breakup.”
“‘Breakup?!’” Butch's jaw dropped and he gaped at the lot of them, disbelief all over his face. “Didn’t you just say she was an Untouchable? I thought she didn’t date anyone?”
The guys on the other side of the table clamped their mouths shut.
“Oh, fuck you all,” Butch said. “Don't you dare leave me hanging after that.”
All of them, Mike included, looked like they were weighing their options: whether to get the information pummeled out of them by Butch now, or the information pummeled back in by Buttercup later.
Mike sighed and said, “Well, the way news travels here, you'd find out by the end of the day anyway. She’s only ever dated one guy, and it basically went down in epic flames.”
“So who the fuck was it?”
If the guys exchanged another look Butch was going to kick all their asses on general principle. They all adopted grim expressions, and Mike finally nodded in the direction of the door. “He just left the table.”
***
Bubbles stared at the boy next to her as they settled in for their last class. She'd gotten relatively lucky-excluding Art, there was only one class today that she shared by herself with one of the boys, and that was Algebra II with Boomer, who seemed the tamest of the three of them. Bubbles and Buttercup both had History with all three, and judging from how she was acting by the end of class, Buttercup's patience was already wearing thin. Something in the back of Bubbles' mind figured there was a reason they'd opted to place the boys in more classes with Buttercup over Bubbles, and while she couldn't say she was disappointed, she definitely felt offended.
All thoughts of that variety, though, were far away as she took in Brick, looking... out of place in the Art room with her. Not that he didn't belong physically, just... Bubbles was suddenly very interested in seeing the portfolio he must've submitted to place in Art IV immediately as a new student.
“When they told you to watch me,” he abruptly said, jarring her from her internal thoughts, “they didn't mean, 'literally.'” He issued a pointed glare at her-trying to intimidate her, she realized. He'd done it earlier, too, when he'd dragged Boomer along to the library; he must've thought she'd crumble like a little girl in the face of two big, scary boys.
Bubbles frowned. Everybody was always underestimating her, she bitterly reflected. Well, the hell with them.
“I know,” she said slowly, mirroring his cold tone. “I was only wondering how an evil criminal like you could possibly have any beauty in him worthy of being considered art.”
That struck a nerve. He set his jaw and growled, “You'd be surprised.”
“Oh, I'm sure,” she agreed, sarcasm curling around every syllable. The look of hatred he issued in her direction as the teacher called class to attention felt deliciously deserved and, oddly, refreshing.
***
The end of the day couldn't come soon enough.
Brick wasn’t bothering with his books; he'd expected high school to pose some sort of challenge but clearly that was not going to be the case. He stashed them into his locker with a look of disgust for good measure and slammed it shut, figuring he wouldn’t be seeing it again till the end of the school year.
The chilling reminder that he was stuck here-here, for fuck’s sake-for another five months only further soured his mood. The girls, too-with Buttercup and Bubbles breathing down his neck all day, it was all he could do to keep from going postal. He hated being watched when he hadn't solicited the attention. His pissiness rose off of him in waves, frightening, sinister, hostile waves, and those with proper senses of intuition wisely edged around him as he made his way to the nearest exit.
He glimpsed Boomer studying a bulletin board, his blue eyes intense. Brick shouldered his brother as he stopped next to him, jarring him from his daze. “What’s up.”
Boomer shot Brick an impish grin. “My ticket to High School Stardom. ‘Scuse me, bro, I’m gonna run.”
Before he could weasel an explanation from him, Boomer had jetted off and through the doors of the rapidly depopulating school. Brick turned and scanned the board for what had held his brother’s attention-
“I’m warning you.”
Brick squinted his eyes and groaned, thumping his head against the board. Jesus bleeding Christ. “What. The fuck. Do you want.”
“I want you to watch your language, for one thing,” Blossom said in a clipped tone.
***
Boomer shifted his cargo into a more comfortable position on his back, nodding amiably at the jittery security guards the city had stationed around their complex. Brick had said something about them being around for the first two weeks in some pathetic effort to make sure the boys weren’t that eager to cause trouble. They may as well have sent a kindergarten class, seriously. As if twenty grown men would be able to stop the Boys if they really felt like starting something…
He shook his head clear and took off, taking a moment to get his bearings in the sky. He hadn’t been here for a few years and was readjusting to the layout of this city, after all, but he could read a map well enough… There, in a suburb literally next door to Townsville High. That was the place. If he really focused his hearing, he could make out the dissonant music drifting from the garage…
He landed in the driveway, startling the three man band in the midst of settling into practice. One at the drums, one clutching a P-Bass, and the other cradling a Squier…
Boomer cocked his head and squinted at the guitar. “Squier Telecaster.” He nodded good-naturedly, trying to mask his pride at his own. “Not a bad instrument.”
“Um, do you need something, dude?” the brown-haired, scruffy looking guy with the bass spoke up, voice wary.
Boomer grinned and took a step, unsurprised when the group shrank back a bit. “I’m here to… huh. How do the pros say it? Aw, fuck it.”
He whipped his Gibson SG around to the front, smirking as he took in their shocked faces. He ran a loving hand along its neck.
“I’m here to join the band,” he said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
***
“So this is your Welcome Committee?” Brick was making an effort not to turn on his most frightening, scathing glare at the girl in front of him, figuring it would do him no good to fuel any suspicions she might have about his integrity. With the way she was scowling at him, though, he found himself having to exercise a significant amount of self-discipline. “Giving newcomers the third degree?”
“You’re no newcomer,” she scoffed. “I know exactly who you are.”
He bristled. Fuck discipline. He felt his gaze harden and the very air around him went dark and cold. Even Blossom wasn’t immune to his effect; there was the barest tensing of her muscles as he angled his head to glare at her properly.
“Is that right,” he said in a low voice, letting just a hint of peril wind itself around his words as he took note of the tightening of her jaw. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”
***
Mitch was more intimidated by super-powered beings than he let on. However, having spent a decent portion of his life as Buttercup’s only best friend, only boyfriend, and now, only ex, he’d become fairly competent at the art of masking fear.
Besides, Boomer was here on serious business. And in turn, Mitch could not take any job application lightly. There were important matters to discuss.
He stepped forward until he was looking Boomer in the eye, clutched his bass for support, and narrowed his eyes. “What’s your favorite instrument?”
“I’m holding it,” Boomer smoothly replied.
“Best guitarist?”
“Dude, Hendrix, hands down.”
“Singer?”
“Freddie Mercury.”
“Best guitar solo?”
Mitch was firing these out one after the other, but Boomer didn’t miss a single beat. “Cosmetic reply is ‘Stairway to Heaven’ or ‘Comfortably Numb,’ but I’ll have to go with Steely Dan’s ‘Reelin’ in the Years.’”
“Best contemporary guitar solo.” This tended to always stump folks, or at least elicit some painfully substandard responses.
Boomer smirked. “The White Stripes’ ‘Ball and Biscuit.’ Though we’re ignoring the fact that the past twenty years worth of guitar solos can’t hold a candle to the twenty years that came before it.”
“I’d argue that point,” Mitch said, a little defensively.
The smug bastard that stood before him actually snorted. “And I’d win.”
Mitch pulled back a bit to eye him. “Alright,” he said slowly. “So you know your shit, I’ll give you that. Let’s see how well you play.”
***
“You know what, sweetheart,” Brick enunciated, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “let me clear this up for you: I. Don’t. Care. I don’t. I’ve got bigger things on my mind than juvenile delinquency in your pitiful excuse for a city.”
Blossom’s eyes went wide. Bigger things? What did that mean?
“Yeah, there’s that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look you do so well again.” He cocked his head and glowered at her. “I gave up on this place years ago. I didn’t come back to waste my time with you and your little ‘Hero Play’ shit.”
“So why bother coming back at all?” Blossom said in a low voice. “It isn’t like anybody here missed you.”
“As far as I can tell, that’s none of your business.” Brick stepped close, towering over her, as if he was trying to stare her down. She didn’t flinch back. “I told you already, I don’t have any intentions of causing trouble. And believe me, even if I did?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re barely worth the effort.”
(cont.)
True to form, I totally killed lj's text limit on this thing. More of ch1 to be posted shortly.
Title: More Than Human
Chapter 1: Just An Old Friend Coming Over, or Blood Never Forgets
Pairing: RrB/PpG
Rating: R, 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: First and foremost and always for mathkid, who is constantly showing me that no matter how good I may think I am, I could always, always be better. And since that tends to work out for all parties involved, she deserves some major, major thanks.
More Than Human, Pt. 1 - Junior Spring Semester
Ch. 1 - Just An Old Friend Coming Over or Blood Never Forgets
-sbj-
The landscape of Townsville unfurled like a winter blanket underneath the dim glow of the morning sun as they approached the city. Blossom rolled down the car window a tad just for an inhale of the crisp January air. Next to her, Buttercup was fiddling with the zippers of her backpack, while Bubbles manned the radio in the front seat next to the Professor.
“Pretty morning,” Blossom said, more to herself than anything.
“I'd enjoy it more if I was asleep,” Buttercup yawned, thumping her head against the window.
“For someone who usually has no problem making her six o'clock practices every morning, you sure like to complain,” Bubbles observed.
The Professor sighed heavily, interrupting the litany of protests Buttercup was preparing to launch into. “Seniors in, what, eight months? I could've sworn I was just driving you guys to Townsville High's Freshman Orientation yesterday.”
“If you got me a car you wouldn't have to drive us anywhere,” Buttercup offered, her eyes lighting up.
“Nice try. You're still not getting a car till your 18th birthday,” the Professor said grimly. Buttercup pouted. “Besides, I like driving you girls to school.” He sighed again. “I was hoping I'd be able to do it a little longer.”
Bubbles turned her attention from the stereo to him. “What do you mean, Professor?”
“Now, you girls know I won’t be able to do this as often anymore,” the Professor said slowly, and eyed his girls in the rearview mirror. “I’ve hit a sort of… ‘rough spot’ with work, and I’ll have to put in more hours in the lab…”
Blossom met his eyes in the rearview and responded bravely, “Well, if it’s for the good of the people, I’d say that isn’t a problem.”
“We’ll miss you!”
“Bubbles, he’ll be right downstairs,” Buttercup said, exasperated. She watched the familiar flagpoles of the school come into view and continued, “Man, I’m gonna miss it when you’ve got this citywide security thing up and running and we’re not needed to go out and fight crime anymore-”
“I’m sure you’ll still do that, but I’d like you girls to live a little like… well, normal girls-”
Suddenly Buttercup’s eyes went wide and she took a heroic dive into Blossom’s lap.
“What are you doing?!” Blossom cried, indignant.
“Not letting him see me!” Buttercup hissed, as if it were blatantly obvious.
Bubbles peered out the window and instantly said, “Hey, it’s Mitch!”
“Stop looking at him, you idiot-DON’T WAVE! He’ll know I’m IN HERE!!”
Blossom was getting tired of having to be the sensible one. “Buttercup, this isn’t a very judicious way to deal with a breakup.”
“Did you ever date a friend, Blossom?” the girl in her lap snarled back.
“Will’s my friend,” Bubbles helpfully offered.
“You don’t count. You make friends with rocks and trees, Pocahontas.”
Bubbles turned to issue a sour look at Blossom’s lap.
“Buttercup, I’d rather you sit up,” Blossom said ominously. “That’s new clothing you’re wrinkling.”
Buttercup responded by shifting aggressively against said new clothing.
“Hey!”
“Professor, can you please let us off a little further down?”
The Professor sighed, “Buttercup…”
“Pleeeeeease? I really don’t want to talk to him…”
With another one of those loving sighs he did so well, he pulled the car further up and let them off behind a conveniently large bush next to the entrance.
“I love you with all my heart,” Buttercup said devoutly, and pecked him on the cheek before slipping out the door in a manner that she hoped epitomized stealth.
Bubbles kissed him too before whispering, “Just between you and me, I love you more.”
As she left Blossom inched up and asked, “Is everything going okay with work?”
“I’m okay if you girls are okay with it,” he answered, voice a little concerned. “Are you girls… okay?”
Blossom smiled and said, “We’re okay if you’re okay with it.”
A swift peck on the cheek, a “Love you, bye,” and Blossom stepped out into the frosty sunshine, the snow crunching underneath her new shoes.
***
Bubbles loved first days.
The way pockets of students clustered around them, socializing, laughing, catching up… the school was at its liveliest on first days, and Bubbles, well, loved life!
“I love life!” she announced to no one in particular, and Buttercup scowled beside her.
“Life sucks,” she muttered. “I’m going to go find the boys.”
“Mitch hangs out with the boys,” Bubbles piped cheerily.
Buttercup considered. “I’ll catch up with them later.”
“I wonder where Will is,” Bubbles wondered aloud, eyes shifting from crowd to crowd.
“Probably off making out with his football,” Buttercup quipped, and Bubbles glared at her.
“Hush. I kiss that mouth, you know.”
“Which only makes it more disgusting,” Buttercup responded automatically.
“What are you two fighting about now?” Blossom interrupted, just as Bubbles caught Robin’s eye and waved.
“Kissing dead pigs,” Buttercup answered, and Blossom made a face.
“Hey girls!” Robin exclaimed, giving each of them a hug in turn. “Buttercup, you cut your hair!”
Buttercup mumbled something and rubbed her neck, the back of her hand brushing the chin length strands.
“Hi Robin.” Blossom smiled as they pulled apart and asked, “So, how was the trip?”
“Eh, well, you know family get-togethers-after three days stuck together you’re ready to go postal on ‘em.”
“Funny,” Buttercup pondered, issuing a meaningful look at Bubbles. “I know exactly what you mean.”
Something behind the girls suddenly caught Robin’s attention, and with a quick glance at Buttercup she said loudly, “HELLO MITCH.”
Buttercup’s body gave a little jerk and she whipped around, coming face to face with The Ex.
“Hey Mitch!” Bubbles chirped, with a smug little grin on her face.
“Uh… hi,” Buttercup mumbled, avoiding eye contact. She self-consciously twitched a hand toward her hair. “Um… how ya been?”
Mitch ignored her and told Blossom, “Principal’s looking for you three.”
Buttercup made an indignant sort of face while Blossom furrowed her brow. “What for?”
“Didn’t say, but she seemed like she was in a hurry. I’d get to it if I was you.”
Without casting so much as a look at Buttercup, he brushed past them, leaving the dark-haired girl scowling in his wake.
“Who… who does he think he is, ignorin’ me like that?!”
“Apparently your ex,” Bubbles keenly observed, eliciting a death glare from Buttercup.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Who were you talking to, then? Since, you know, Mitch wasn’t listening.”
“Girls, cut it out,” Blossom said sharply. “C’mon. Robin, I guess we’ll catch up with you later.”
“Sure.” Robin waved as they left. “And by the way Blossom, I love the outfit!”
A proud little smile lit up Blossom’s face, to which Buttercup responded, “Too bad it does little to cover up your ego.”
Bubbles decisively looked in the other direction as Blossom readied herself to deliver a sharp retort, but was distracted by an unknown student. The smile he flashed at Blossom was of bold, senior-worthy status, though judging by the books in his arms he couldn’t have been more than a sophomore.
“Nice threads,” he said affably, eyes lingering on her as he passed.
“Um, thanks,” she said with a blush. For all the attention she got from the male gender, she still managed to look surprised every time instances like these occurred. And oh, did they occur. Frequently.
“Turn that over-conditioned, over-brushed, over-inflated red head of yours back around before you cause a collision,” Buttercup snapped.
Blossom glared and said in a clipped voice, “Maybe if you paid more attention to making yourself presentable, you could spend less time being jealous of the attention I get.”
“Like I’d be jealous of the kind of attention that gets girls kidnapped and ra-”
“Will!” Bubbles suddenly shrieked, bowling over Blossom in her rush to her boyfriend’s extended arms.
“Baby!”
Blossom and Buttercup, for all their differences, made faces of equal distaste at the generic and yet stomach-churning nickname that had been bestowed on their sister.
Blissfully unaware of their reactions, Bubbles laughed as she lightly kissed Will on the lips. “Hi!”
“Hey, so I saw your shoe ad on the way to school-”
Bubbles gasped and jumped back, her hands flying to her already reddening cheeks. “Oh my God! You didn’t!”
“-And you just looked so hot on that billboard I couldn’t wait to get here and see you,” he finished, as Buttercup gagged in the background. Her ill-masked hacking drew his attention to the Powerpuffs he wasn’t currently dating, and after a moment’s thought, he added, “You two looked good too.”
Blossom smiled politely. Buttercup bared her teeth in an overzealous simper before she resumed looking sick.
“So…” Will said, drawing out the word as he played with one of Bubbles’ pigtails. “Wanna go-”
“Sorry, Will,” Blossom interrupted, grabbing a very distracted Bubbles by the arm. “We’re all supposed to be meeting with Ms. Keane right now.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Bubbles said, despondency settling over her features.
What should’ve ended the conversation there dragged out a minute longer than it had to, and Buttercup griped at length about it for the rest of their trek to Principal Keane’s.
“You know, when I was dating, I didn’t need to take an entire five minutes just to say ‘Good-bye’ to Mitch.”
“I thought you didn’t get the chance to,” Bubbles shot back. “Since he did it first-”
“You’re treading on thin ice, sister,” Buttercup snarled.
Blossom sighed, again assuming the role of The Sensible One, and quietly marveled that the three of them could exude such polarities in their sisterly relationship. These insults and quibbles over boyfriends, current and former, had been nonexistent when she and Bubbles had opened the door over a month ago on a desolate Buttercup, reeling from immediate post-breakup trauma. Her first and only post-breakup trauma.
The passing thought that she was now the only sister who had yet to suffer from such an affliction inspired a twinge of jealousy. Of the three of them, she had expected Buttercup to be the last one to throw herself into any sort of romantic relationship, much less get depressed about it after throwing herself out.
As they reached the door to the Main Office and she shushed her sisters, she reassured herself that she had long ago decided that the tenuous nature of the High School Relationship was, while thrilling, undesirable on the whole, and that a mature young woman such as herself would only engage in one if a more than appropriate suitor showed up, one unfettered by High School Ignorance, High School Drama, and, over all things, High School Immaturity.
Of course, High School being High School, said suitor was long in coming.
Pushing these thoughts aside with much pragmatism, she gave her sisters one last look that urged them to Please, Be Serious for A Moment, and, stretching a concerned smile on her face, opened the door.
“Ms. Keane,” she started, “you asked to see-”
But it wasn’t Ms. Keane who greeted them, and the audience that did instigated an immediate defensive reaction. She and her sisters froze as the door shut behind them.
“What are you doing here.” Blossom hated how her voice wavered when she said it. She could feel her sisters’ muscles tense, in sync with her own.
Boomer leant against the wall, a lazy, haphazard grin on his face as his eyes flickered to the girls, then to his brothers. Butch had perched himself on the corner of the unoccupied secretary’s desk, and, with a total lack of regard for personal space, was reaching for various items on its surface and casually examining them. He cast the girls a perfunctory glance, left his eyes on them long enough to smirk, then returned his attention to the nameplate in his hands.
Brick was the only one of them that stood rigid, with his hands in his pockets and his back facing them. He took a moment before slowly swiveling his head round and leveling his eyes with Blossom's. Unlike his brothers, there wasn’t even the slightest trace of a smile on his face. His expression was cool, detached, and she almost shivered at the sight of it.
“What are you doing here,” she repeated, but neither of his brothers looked back at them, and he only continued to stare.
“She asked you three a question,” Buttercup chimed in, her voice hard. “If you aren’t going to answer, then get the fuck out.”
“Buttercup,” Blossom said sternly, and that seemed to get their attention. Butch’s gaze slid back up and focused on them, the ever-present smirk widening, while Boomer’s eyes merely wandered back over.
Butch set down the nameplate with a thump and began to stand, and Brick turned his head to him and opened his mouth to speak-
A door in the back opened suddenly, and the plump little woman that was the office secretary came scurrying out. “Girls!” she cried, in a voice that was clearly attempting composure and failing impressively, “F-f-fantastic of you to come! Could I, um, maybe see you girls in Ms. Keane's office? Maybe? And, um-I’m sorry, please put that down, sir-”
Butch had picked up a heavy glass paperweight and was tossing it from hand to hand. He didn’t look up. “‘Sir,’ huh?” He looked back at his brothers, grinning. “I’m gonna like it here.”
Buttercup pushed forward and snatched the paperweight out of the air, slamming it back down on the desk and denting the wood. “Not for long,” she said in a low voice. His lip curled into a sneer and he reached for the paperweight again.
“Girls!” Ms. Naylor squeaked. “Office, please?!”
Blossom glanced at Bubbles, then started to follow Ms. Naylor down the hall. Buttercup held back, eyes hard, then finally shouldered past Butch and followed in her sisters’ wake.
Butch resumed smirking at his brothers as the door in the back shut. “Off to a great start.”
“You’re such a jackass,” Boomer laughed, turning his eyes to the windows that overlooked the first story of the school.
Brick sighed and lifted his cap for a brief moment to run his hand through his hair. “This was a terrible idea,” he muttered, a grim look on his face. If his brothers had heard him, they didn’t pay him any mind.
“The redhead’s even better looking in person,” he heard Butch say conspiratorially to Boomer, and Brick instantly made a threatening noise in the back of his throat as he directed a glare at the two of them.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“I’m just sayin’!” Butch said defensively, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Just pointing out why exactly I’m gonna like it here.”
“What the hell are those three doing in our school?!” Buttercup’s shriek carried well into the main part of the office.
Butch threw back his head and laughed. “Really. I’m really gonna like it here.”
***
“Buttercup, watch your language,” Blossom growled through gritted teeth.
Bright green eyes flashed back at her, but Buttercup clamped her mouth shut.
Bubbles held a hand over her mouth, brow knit deep in thought. “Shouldn’t someone be keeping an eye on them out there?”
“Bubbles is right,” Buttercup immediately chimed in. “This is a public school. High school, no less. We’ve got enough idiots running around, we don’t need idiots with superpowers adding to it.”
Blossom took a deep breath and focused on Ms. Naylor, who continued to wring her hands nervously and looked anxiously from Powerpuff to Powerpuff to Powerpuff and back.
“Ms. Naylor,” Blossom started slowly, and three pairs of eyes immediately swept to her.
Blossom made sure to keep her tone cool, composed. “What are these three doing in the school?”
Ms. Naylor drew herself up fretfully and attempted a voice as steady as Blossom’s. “Well, girls, recently there was a bit of redistricting of the… the school districts, and as it is, these boys will be attending our school as a result-”
“But the Rowdyruff Boys haven’t been around for a long time,” Bubbles interjected. “We haven’t seen them around, period, for the last, like, five years.”
“And we even went looking for them,” Buttercup added. “And nothing. We thought they’d jumped town.”
“They did,” Blossom said thoughtfully. “We scoured the town for them for weeks, and kept coming up empty.”
“So what are they doing back?” Bubbles asked, and was met with silence.
Ms. Naylor coughed uncomfortably, and each girl broke out of their thoughts, directing their attention to her. She had a distasteful look on her face, as if she was going to regret what she was about to say. “We’ve been assured in an anonymous letter that the boys are going to behave, but…”
“But you don’t trust whoever sent it,” Blossom finished flatly.
The nervous woman nodded.
“And you want us to keep an eye on them.”
She nodded again.
Blossom took a deep breath. “Does Principal Keane know about this?”
Suddenly the woman in question emerged, looking weary and a little frustrated. “I know about it, alright,” she muttered, then held out a sheaf of papers to the girls. “Ms. Naylor, you're excused. Here, girls.”
The three of them obediently took them. “What’s this?” Buttercup asked suspiciously, stepping aside so Ms. Naylor could exit the office.
“Your new schedules,” Ms. Keane said, and the girls immediately snapped their heads up. “In order for us to keep tabs on the boys at all times, we’ve readjusted your schedules-”
“What?!” Buttercup and Bubbles exclaimed as one. Blossom simply resumed studying her schedule, brow furrowed.
“I know, girls,” Ms. Keane sighed.
“That’s not fair!” Buttercup cried.
“You haven’t even taken a good look at yours yet, Buttercup,” Ms. Keane grumbled, wrinkling her nose. “You’ll probably prefer it to your old one.”
Blinking, Buttercup looked back at the papers in her hand.
“Ms. Keane,” Blossom said slowly, eyes glued to her schedule, “my classes are all the same.”
“I’ve been dropped from all my pre-AP classes,” Buttercup said, trying to mask her glee. She’d only signed up for them at the Professor’s insistence, and the joy in her voice was unmistakable. At Blossom’s glare, though, she adopted a more solemn expression.
Bubbles was staring at hers, looking a little hurt. “I don’t… my lunch is different. I can’t eat with Will.” She was holding two sheets in her hand, and her eyes darted from one to the other. “And… how come I have two different first periods?”
The look on Ms. Keane’s face was suddenly soft and apologetic. “Well, honey, I’m afraid that with this adjustment, you’ll have to give up one of your electives-”
“I have to choose between Honors Chorale and Cheer Squad?!” Bubbles said, voice rising in pitch and sounding distressed. “I can’t have both?!”
“I’m sorry, Bubbles,” Ms. Keane said, meaning it.
“But… but Buttercup and Blossom get to keep theirs!”
Buttercup raised a hand. “Um, actually, I was dropped from those Pre-AP classes-”
“You weren’t even looking forward to those,” Bubbles said bitterly. “Ms. Keane, I don’t get it! How come you can’t drop Buttercup from, from Basketball, or Blossom from-”
“Bubbles, I’m sorry, I did want it to be fairer, but the superintendent… well, your sisters just… happen to really excel in their school activities-”
The stunned look on the blonde’s face silenced her. “I still don’t get it…”
“Because I make high grades and Buttercup wins athletic competitions,” Blossom interjected, trying to keep her voice neutral. “And that brings the school a lot of prestige.”
Buttercup looked a little pleased with herself all the sudden, while Bubbles was clearly hurt. “But… I’ve been on the Cheer Squad since I was a freshman.” She looked down at her schedules again. “And… I just got into Honors Chorale… I had to audition and everything…”
“You have to choose, Bubbles,” Ms. Keane said firmly.
The poor girl didn’t seem to have any idea which option would be worse. Blossom gently put a hand on Bubbles’ shoulder and asked Ms. Keane, “So what classes do we share with the boys?”
Ms. Keane bit her lip, looking apologetic again. “Well, it's just Buttercup and Bubbles, actually, who share classes with the boys.” Before the shocked girls could interrupt again, Ms. Keane hurriedly elaborated, “Blossom is in all the Advanced Placement courses, and we can't place any of the boys in those-”
“You can't bump her out?” Buttercup cried, and Blossom and Ms. Keane gave her a sharp look.
“They didn't bump you out of Basketball or Volleyball for the exact same reason,” Blossom said sternly.
“Yeah, but...” Buttercup trailed off, unsure how to continue. “Well, it just isn't fair.”
“Gee, it sure isn't, huh Buttercup,” Bubbles said in a monotone, clearly feeling no sympathy.
Blossom's face was still serious as she looked at Buttercup. “Are you saying you need help watching them?” she ventured cautiously.
Buttercup's offended glare was enough of an answer. “Don't even joke.”
Ms. Keane was looking at Bubbles again. “Have you made a choice yet, Bubbles? Choir or Cheerleading?”
Bubbles closed her eyes and sighed, handing one of the schedules back to Ms. Keane. Ms. Keane glanced at it and grinned. “Dr. Wendell will be delighted to add your voice to the choir.”
“Yeah,” Bubbles mumbled. “But Coach Morris is going to kill me.”
“He'll get over it, sweetie,” Ms. Keane assured her. The smile on her face dissolved as she glanced at the door.
Blossom gave her a wry smile. “Wishing you were back teaching Kindergarten about now?”
The Principal sighed and rolled her eyes. “Believe it or not, Blossom, when you get right down to the heart of it, kindergarteners and high schoolers have a lot more in common than you'd think."
***
The boys were almost exactly as they'd left them. Blossom stepped ahead of her sisters as they filed back into the main office, taking care to look all three of them in the eye. Butch winked as their eyes met, and she felt Buttercup bristle behind her.
Ms. Keane came forward to stand between them and extended a palm to indicate each of the boys in turn. “Boomer, Brick, Butch.” She indicated the girls. “Blossom, Bubbles, Buttercup. Though I'm sure you don't exactly need a formal introduction.”
“Thank you, Ms. Keane,” Blossom said, and locked eyes with Brick. His gaze hardened.
Ms. Keane cleared her throat and continued. “Now, boys, I feel it's only fair to let you all know that, save for your free periods which are to be spent here in the office for the first few weeks, the girls will be sharing regular classes with you-”
Brick's jaw went tight, Blossom noted.
“Not that we don't feel you're... trustworthy-”
“Ha!” Butch laughed.
“But we just want to ensure everyone's safety. I'm sure you understand?”
“Perfectly,” Brick said quietly.
Ms. Keane's smile was thin. “Wonderful. I don't think there's anything to worry about, honestly. The girls will be sure to give you more space in time, based on good behavior, of course.”
“I'm sure they could show us a thing or two about good behavior,” Butch leered.
“Don't encourage us,” Buttercup snarled.
“Anyway,” Ms. Keane interrupted, “since we’re none of us enemies here-”
Butch and Buttercup snorted and scoffed, respectively.
“-The least we can do is be civil and treat each other with respect and dignity,” she continued, raising her voice a little as she glared at the two of them.
“That won’t be a problem, Principal Keane,” Blossom answered.
“My thoughts precisely,” Brick agreed, his voice a near-growl. Neither broke eye contact, not even to glance at their siblings.
“Now, I know it’ll seem a little juvenile to do so, but I’d like us all to shake on it.” Ms. Keane’s crisp tone was punctuated by an indication of her hand between the two parties.
Brick’s face twitched, a brief hesitation, and Blossom instantly extended her hand, trying to keep the triumphant sneer from her expression. The look of disgust that replaced his surprise felt like sweet victory. She allowed her Politican’s Smile to creep onto her face as she opened her mouth to say-
“We respectfully decline.” Buttercup’s voice suddenly cut through the air, twisting like a knife in Blossom’s gut. She whirled around to face her sister, but Buttercup’s eyes were dark and focused intently on the trio opposite them. “Respectfully,” she added, her lip curling.
Blossom narrowed her eyes at Buttercup, but she still paid her no mind.
“Respectfully accepted.” The tone of Brick’s voice was sickeningly smug, and as Blossom turned back to him she caught the faintest glimmer of satisfaction flashing across his face before it resumed its compassionless expression. “Till class, then.”
Like Ms. Keane, Blossom was shocked at the sheer… audacity of what had just taken place. Worse yet, this unspoken battle had just ended in a draw for her.
Unacceptable, she thought, as Brick curtly nodded at Ms. Keane and turned for the door.
Unacceptable.
“Hey.” Her concentration was shattered by Butch’s sudden attention, and he sneered at her before he could step out the door. “I love your outfit.”
Then his eyes lingered, and then they lingered, and before she had the sense to react appropriately he was already gone.
Blossom whirled on Buttercup, livid. “Do you have any idea what you just did?!” she hissed.
“I got them out of my sight,” Buttercup grumbled. “Mission accomplished.”
“Except that that’s the exact opposite of what we’re supposed to do,” Bubbles interjected. Ms. Keane started to herd the girls back out into the school.
“Bubbles is right,” Blossom said in a low voice as they nodded at the Principal and huddled in the hall. “Keep an eye on them. Don't let a single one of them out of your sight.” A city full of aging villains and a maturing superhero team saw less and less action these days. The girls' skills had only improved as they grew, and their relentless patrolling of the city had discouraged fledgling villains from emerging. With the boys back now, though...
Blossom was already planning emergency weekend training in her head. They couldn't afford to be complacent at a time like this. Occasional monster attacks would not keep them fresh enough if the boys decided to stir up trouble.
She shook her head and looked each of her sisters in the eye, in turn. “I’m going to see you guys later,” Blossom said distractedly. “I really-really-need to go wind down some before dance starts.”
Buttercup and Bubbles nodded, watching their leader as she crossed the school atrium and turned the corner that would take her through the gym and to the small dance studio. The boys were clustered at the north end of the big space. The one in green turned his head, watching Blossom disappear down the hall. Buttercup made a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a snarl.
“What do you think they're doing back?” Bubbles said as Boomer caught sight of the two of them and gave them a friendly wave. They ignored him.
Buttercup thought for a long moment. “I don't know,” she finally said, eyes on Brick as he stared off into space, his attention far away. “But something tells me this is gonna be one hell of a semester.”
***
Blossom grabbed a CD out of her locker and made her way to the empty studio. The smile was on her face before she even set foot on the hardwood. She slipped her CD into the stereo and studied her expression in the mirror.
The boys were manageable. Maybe. Hopefully. They just had to keep on their toes-So to speak, she reflected, bouncing on her little stumps for feet. The music started up and she shook out her limbs, and within minutes she was stretching her tension away, a blissful smile on her face as she danced through the studio, with Brick, Boomer, and Butch the least of her concerns.
After about twenty minutes or so, other girls in the Townsville High Dance Company began filtering in. Some joined Blossom in warming up, while others started stretching in social little pockets along the wall.
“Hey, Junior Lieut.” Blossom looked up as Alicia, the Major, joined her. “You're looking far, far away this morning.”
Blossom sighed. The Company Director walked into the studio, clapping for the girls to come to attention-the Dance IV class would be joining them soon, she was saying. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Just... a lot on my mind.”
“Blossom!” The Director, Mrs. Olson, waved at her, and she dutifully came running. Mrs. Olson handed her a folder. “Do me a favor?”
***
“Ohhhh, damn.” Butch eyed Blossom from across the atrium with much appreciation. “That girl’s got her glow on.”
Boomer and Brick looked up, the former with more interest than the latter. “You think?”
He turned back towards them with a knowing look as the first bell rang. “The bounce in her step? That smile? That little ‘hip thing’ she’s doin’? Hah! I know post-coital bliss when I see it, and she’s radiating it in tidal waves.” He looked at her again as she made her way to the East Hall, oblivious to the attention. “Wonder who she’s been banging in the locker rooms.”
“Blossom? The girl doesn’t strike me as the type,” Boomer said, amused.
“Type or no, she’s smokin’ up and down the hall,” Butch said, observing the heads that turned as she maneuvered her way through the crowds. “If I want a slice of that, I gotta move fast.”
Brick rolled his eyes. “Good luck getting her to ‘serve’ it to you,” he said derisively.
“Always such a pessimist.” With a smirk and a nod at his brothers, Butch strode off, a predatory glint in his eye.
“Well, at least Butch is having fun,” Boomer remarked, turning to Brick.
“As long as there are skirts to chase, of course he’s gonna have fun.”
Boomer eyed his brother. “For someone who’s supposed to be ‘on vacation,’ you don’t seem like you’re having any fun.”
Brick sighed. “You. You’re a freakin’ rocket scientist, Boomer. Now get your ass to class. I’ll catch you later.”
***
Butch loved walking past people.
He loved the way they scampered out of the way as they saw him coming, fled to corners and walls like the pests they were. He loved how still and silent they got as he breezed past them, as if he was royalty. More than anything, though, he loved how they would instantly explode into ill-masked whispers and chatter the moment they thought he was out of earshot.
Butch simply loved being the center of attention.
Blossom continued on ahead of him, unaware of her pursuer or the hungry spark in his eye. She disappeared as she rounded a corner, and as Butch approached and rounded it himself-
Buttercup stood leaning against the corner, that murderous look in her eyes again.
His shoes squeaked against the tile in his effort to avoid a head on collision. “Well.”
“Stay away from her,” Buttercup growled.
He smirked. “Who?”
“I saw the way you were eyeing her from the second story landing,” she explained, jerking her head upward. “And don’t even think about it.”
“You know, I think about a lot of things,” Butch shrugged nonchalantly. “Which thought should I not be thinking right now?”
Buttercup straightened and took a threatening step forward. “Anything involving my sister,” she said in a dark voice.
Butch considered. “And the ones that involve you?”
“Unless they involve me kicking your ass, I recommend you avoid thinking about those, too,” she snarled. “Now get the hell out of here.”
He lowered his head and preened. “Make me.”
Buttercup glowered at him before making a sudden grab at the back pocket of his jeans and snaking away from him to examine his schedule.
Butch blinked in surprise and gave her an appreciative look. He hadn’t even managed to slip a thinly veiled suggestive comment at what had appeared to be Buttercup copping a feel before she’d kleptoed his schedule.
“That was a slick move,” he admired, and her eyes flicked to him but she mostly ignored him.
Suddenly her eyes widened. “Oh, you’ve gotta be BS’ing me.” She looked up. “This is your next class.”
He snatched his schedule back and confirmed it with a glance. “Huh! What a coincidence.” His eyes narrowed and shifted back to hers, a sly grin on his face. “So I guess I’ll just go spend some ‘quality time’ with Blossom-”
“Excuse me?” Blossom said from behind him, suspicion etched all over her face.
“Speak of the hot, post-coital devil,” Butch chirped. “Do tell, who was the lucky guy?”
She granted him a steely look and shouldered past him. “Buttercup, good luck.”
Buttercup looked like she was going to be sick. Blossom grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly before briskly walking back down the hall, issuing another glare at Butch as she passed.
He was baffled. “Where are you going?”
She turned and gave him a funny look. “Back to class!”
“What? You mean this isn’t it?!”
She came to a full stop and appeared to struggle with the thought of answering him. “I was just dropping something off.”
Butch turned his gaze on Buttercup. “Then why did you make such a big deal about this being my next class?”
“Because,” Buttercup said in a flat, miserable tone, “this is my next class.”
So much for the hot, fiery redhead suffering from post-coital glow.
“I cannot believe my luck,” Buttercup said wretchedly as she shuffled past him into the room.
Butch stared remorsefully at Blossom’s hot, retreating back. Oh, those hips. Those legs! Those… hips and legs! “You kiddin’ me?” he wailed. “I can’t believe mine.”
***
Blossom would've been a far preferable classmate than Buttercup. The latter had the personality of a rabid pitbull and was particularly prone to flying off the handle any time Butch made the tiniest expression of interest in the female form. Her mood did not improve when he asked her why the leash around her neck was missing.
It was a simple question, and it wasn't his safety he was concerned about, but rather, the numerous pieces of feminine eye candy that were bound to get in the way if she suddenly decided to go all Psycho Bitch on his ass. The rabid pitbull did not appreciate the comment.
This went on for two classes-they shared both English and Chemistry together. Both his brothers were in the former, but as luck would have it Butch and Buttercup were seated right next to each other, ensuring she aimed most of her foaming in his direction. At least he'd managed to edge Brick between them for Chemistry so her attention was more evenly split between the two of them, leaving Butch free to ogle the finer looking girls when she was busy glaring at his brother. Eventually the bell signaling the end of second period rang, and judging from the direction they were all headed, they shared the early lunch period.
They lost each other in the crowd of students on the way to the cafeteria, and as fun as it was to antagonize a snarling dog, Butch was secretly glad to be out of her sight. He bypassed the line in favor of finding a seat, sweeping his gaze over the crowded lunchroom. As it had been in the classrooms, several students gave him looks ranging anywhere from wary to curious to curious-and-then-some, with the final category containing a remarkably high percentage of the female student body. He suddenly felt terribly pleased with himself.
“Okay, that shit in there they're calling food? Not eating it,” Brick’s somber voice suddenly growled beside him, and to Butch’s dismay the faces that had been furtively tilted in his direction were now expressing either abject terror or an emotion that went far past curious-and-then-some territory. He turned and scowled at Brick. His brother had an uncanny knack for inspiring those kinds of reactions wherever he went.
“I’m going to go out and get something that doesn't make me want to throw up,” Brick muttered, and started heading for the doors.
“I’d ask you to get me something,” Butch started-
“And I’d tell you to ‘fuck off,’” Brick retorted-
“Except we’re not supposed to leave the building,” Butch interrupted smugly, smirking as his brother stopped and tensed. “You must be in a bad mood if I’m having to remind you about direct orders-”
“Orders from who?”
The boys turned to see Buttercup, angry sparks in her eyes as she looked from one to the other.
Brick grimaced while Butch sneered, “Your Principal.”
“I was only asking to be polite,” she snarled back. “Now sit down.”
“Pass,” Brick said, suddenly disinterested. “I'm going to the library.”
“No lunch?” Buttercup asked suspiciously.
“If that's what you're calling that garbage they're serving, then no,” he said abruptly.
She scrutinized him a second longer, then caught sight of Bubbles entering the cafeteria. She raised her hand. “Bubbles! Get over here.”
Bubbles, who’d been chatting happily amongst friends, visibly stiffened when she saw the audience that accompanied Buttercup.
“Yes, Buttercup?” she said warily as she approached, eyeing the boys.
Buttercup jerked her head in Brick’s direction. “Save your lunch for Art. Right now you need to escort this guy to the library.”
Several expressions were thrown at her at once: nervous shock from Bubbles, indignant fury from Brick, and ill-reserved glee from Butch.
“Dude! You’ve got a babysitter!” he cackled.
“Shut up,” Brick and Buttercup said in unison, voices equally dark.
Brick turned to Bubbles, who recovered from her initial surprise and met his condescending gaze with level eyes.
The adorable blonde girl astonished everybody as she indicated the door and said flatly, “After you.”
“Hey,” Boomer said amicably as he came up. “What's up?”
“You know, I've only got one class with you so far, and I'm already sick of seeing that stupid grin on your face,” Buttercup grumbled, narrowing her eyes at him.
“You're coming with us to the library,” Brick told him, and Boomer's face fell. Buttercup caught the sudden nervousness that flickered across her sister's face and tried to give her a reassuring look.
“But I'm starving!” Boomer protested.
“Deal.” With a final chilling glare at the lot of them, Brick brushed past them, Bubbles determinedly on his heels. Boomer bit his lip, then sighed and dutifully followed.
Now a party of two, Buttercup turned to Butch. “And you?” she said brusquely. “Are you eating or not?”
He gave her a long look before turning to the set of vending machines not two steps away. After acquiring a bag of chips he smirked back at her as he popped it open. “I am.”
“Clever choice,” she admitted.
“So I take it you’re my babysitter?” Butch said conversationally.
“Don’t call me that,” Buttercup snapped. “Go find a seat.”
Butch shrugged. “Whatever you say, Mom.” He smirked as he walked forward, feeling her glaring daggers into his back. With their banter having reached a standstill, both were suddenly aware of the tense, dead silence in the cafeteria and every other student’s eyes on them.
Buttercup’s face suddenly did this weird, scary thing-he could feel it, even though he couldn’t see it-and suddenly the cafeteria exploded into typical high school socializing, with some strange, stilted undercurrent that seemed to intensify as the two of them approached the tables.
Butch was suddenly reminded of his mission, and studied the clusters of students they passed. Jocks, no; geeks, God no; cheerleaders-eventually yes, but for now no. He needed someone who could feed him essential information, better yet, a group of someones who could tell him exactly what he needed to know.
“Pick up the pace,” Buttercup snapped impatiently behind him. “You’ve cut into enough of my lunch period as it is.”
He would’ve thrown a retort back at her, but he suddenly found himself staring at precisely the clique he had been looking for, seated just east of primo cafeteria parking. Good. Neither distinctly popular nor so far off the beaten path that they were relegated to the ass end of the cafeteria.
The group of guys he was advancing towards ceased their conversation. With one of those amicable-yet-threatening smiles he did so well, he nodded at an empty seat and said, “Make some room?”
The guy next to it exchanged a brief glance with the rest of the group, flicked his eyes behind Butch, then said carefully, “Sure.”
Success. Butch sat down and inclined his head in some semblance of a greeting, then noticed that-save for the boy who’d spoken-everyone’s eyes were on Buttercup. He turned. Apparently she’d stopped a few spaces back, and the expression on her face was suddenly guarded.
He blinked, then sneered, “Join us?”
She visibly stiffened. With a dark look in his direction, she said, “I can watch you just as easily from the other end of the room,” and turned away, waving at a group a couple of tables down.
“Hmph.” He turned back to the group to find all pairs of eyes darting glances at the guy beside him.
Butch could only take so much strange, uncomfortable silence. “So I’m Butch,” he finally said, emptying a handful of chips into his mouth.
The guys fell into line. That was more like it.
“Floyd.”
“Lloyd.”
“Twins,” the guy next to the twins clarified. “I’m Harry.”
“Mike,” said the only guy who looked completely out of place, owing to the letter jacket draped over his shoulders.
“I’m Mitch.” The guy sitting beside him was still eyeing him warily. “Um… how’s it going?”
“Great. But look, I’m gonna be straight with you all, I don’t do small talk. I zeroed in on you because I need some information.”
“Oh, geez.” Mike, on the other side of Mitch, made a bit of a groaning noise, while the other four suddenly seemed very on edge.
“What kind of ‘information?’” Mitch asked, eyes a little wild with suspicion.
“Drugs?” Lloyd asked, and Harry whacked him in the arm.
Butch shook his head. “Not drugs, but remind me to ask you about that later.”
“Look, we’re not a gang or anything,” Mitch started-
“I couldn’t give a shit about that,” Butch said dismissively. “Believe it or not, I’m not actually here to make trouble.” He paused. “Sort of. Anyway, I need you guys to break down the real estate here for me.”
“‘Real estate?’” All of them were exchanging befuddled glances now.
“Girls,” Butch said plainly. “Break down the food chain for me, and start at the top.”
Mitch continued with the suspicious looking. “What's your angle?”
Butch snorted, as if it were obvious. “I'm not even going to try to make that sexual. I told you, I just want you guys to tell me who's on the list of Girls Worth the Time of Day, starting with the ones at the top.”
“Starting with Untouchables?” Floyd said incredulously.
“Yes. Wait, Untouchables? What exactly does that mean?”
The other twin considered for a moment. “Untouchables are... basically the ones who are way out of everyone's league. You know, like super high standards, they rarely ever date...” He exchanged more uncomfortable looks with the rest of the guys. “You really want us to start there?”
“Why not? We all need a goal in life, don’t we?” Butch grinned. “I wanna know who the hottest girls in the school are-seriously, the ones that every single guy in this room would give his left nut to be with.”
The guys exchanged looks. “Well, if you really want to know,” Harry said, hesitant, “it’s the Girls.”
After a moment, Butch furrowed his brow. “Um, which girls, dude.”
“No, he means, The Girls,” Floyd said.
“The Powerpuff Girls,” Lloyd added.
Butch wrinkled his face, recalling his previous episodes with Buttercup. They weren’t fucking serious, were they? “You’re not fucking serious, are you?” he scoffed. “I mean, shit, I won’t argue with you about Blossom, and Bubbles I can get, but Buttercup? Really?”
Every guy at the table suddenly seemed very defensive. “Look, man, you haven’t been around for a few years or something, right?” Lloyd pointed out. “Those girls are, like, prime.”
“I mean, the thing with Bubbles is a little weird-she’s not really an Untouchable, but she’s still crazy cute and looks fantastic in her Cheerleading uniform.”
“And Blossom’s like a fucking dream-she’s insanely smart, right, but she’s hot, like, one look at her and you’re sunk, you know-”
“Great walk-”
“And oh man, wait till you see her dance-”
“But what about Buttercup?” Butch snorted, darting a glance at the surly girl who was glaring at him from across the cafeteria. “Are you seriously telling me that she's got a spot on top of this list?”
The guys all looked very grim. Mitch took a loud slurp of his soda.
Harry sighed. “She’s the freaking star athlete of the school, man.”
“She’s a bit of a hardass.”
“She’s a bit kickass, really.”
“She doesn’t take shit from anyone.”
“She acts like she’s one of the guys.”
“Dude, there’re even chicks who dig her.”
“Do you really expect me to be surprised by that?” Butch said dryly.
“Look look look,” Floyd interrupted, shaking his head and holding up his hands. “The point is, even though she’s, um, the ‘scariest’ one of the three, and the one most likely to rip your balls off if you get near her, the girl definitely qualifies as Prime Real Estate.”
“Like Dream House Real Estate.”
“Like you’ve got better odds at winning the Lotto than this piece of property.”
Butch was laughing, incredulous. “I don’t-”
“Look at it this way,” Harry pointed out. “The fact is, the three of them are celebrities. They’re public figures. Good looking public figures. Good looking public figures that fight monsters and protect the city.”
“And look good doing it,” Floyd added, in case Butch hadn't gotten the memo.
“They’re famous,” Harry continued. “They’re popular. I mean, they do freaking everything-one’s a cheerleader, one’s an athlete, one’s a freaking genius, and they just got this crazy high profile endorsement gig over the summer and that’s just like the tip of the iceberg. They’re so far out of everyone’s league that it’s impossible for them not to be considered Prime Real Estate.”
“Have you seen those ads? For the shoes?”
“Oh Jesus, I love those shoe ads…”
“Those things were advertising shoes? I thought they were advertising wet dreams.”
“And the city puts them all over everything.”
“Butch, you have to admit that a girl who can kick your ass, while frightening and emasculating on the one hand, is sickeningly hot and sexy on the other,” Mike pointed out, finally joining in the conversation. “So Buttercup might not float every guy’s boat, but for a lot of the guys in the room, she’s definitely worth losing your left nut over.”
“Plus I’ve heard rumor her secret power is in her tongue,” Lloyd said solemnly.
The other side of the table seemed to take a moment in silent contemplation of the thought. Butch, Mitch, and Mike only stared at their slack expressions.
“So, okay, the Girls are cream of the crop here,” Butch finally conceded. He took a moment to reminisce about the heavenly vision that was Blossom's legs as they (unfortunately) carried her away from him.
Harry shrugged. “Bubbles is probably your easiest shot. Though she's ever only dated jocks.”
“That stems more from a lack of other guys asking her,” Mike immediately said.
“Says the one jock at the table who’s ever dated her,” muttered Mitch.
“Hey, I’m just saying I know her, we’re old friends, you know-”
Butch wasn’t really interested. “And Buttercup and Blossom are definitely Untouchables-one because she’s a Scary Psycho Freak Who Devours Men Whole, and the other because…” He paused. “Hold up. Why exactly is Blossom considered an Untouchable?”
“Dude,” Harry groaned. “Didn’t we just tell you like five seconds ago?”
“No man, I mean, what’s her deal? Who does she date?”
“Nobody,” the guys all said in unison.
“And it’s not for lack of trying,” Floyd said. “Guys are always asking her out. She just always says, ‘No.’”
“Hell if we know why,” Lloyd shrugged.
Mitch suddenly stood, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I’ll see you guys later. I wanna beat the Lunch rush when the bell goes off.” After a pause, he said, “Nice meeting you.”
Butch waved distractedly in the boy's direction. “Huh,” he said thoughtfully as Mitch edged out behind him. “I never would’ve guessed Buttercup would classify as an Untouchable.” He made a face.
The guys kept exchanging looks. Butch stared at them. “What the fuck? Do you all have a mad boner for her or something?”
“No,” Floyd, Lloyd, and Harry all said simultaneously, vigorously shaking their heads.
Mike moved over, taking Mitch's seat so he was sitting right next to Butch. “She just used to hang with us guys.”
Butch looked up in surprise. “What?”
The twins shifted in their seats. “She used to hang with us,” Floyd repeated. “We were a... really tight group.”
“It’s actually kinda weird, not having her sit with us,” Harry said, chancing a glance in her direction.
“Huh. Guess I fucked it up for the group today, yeah?” Butch smirked.
Harry shook his head. “No fucking way she’d sit here anyway. Not after the breakup.”
“‘Breakup?!’” Butch's jaw dropped and he gaped at the lot of them, disbelief all over his face. “Didn’t you just say she was an Untouchable? I thought she didn’t date anyone?”
The guys on the other side of the table clamped their mouths shut.
“Oh, fuck you all,” Butch said. “Don't you dare leave me hanging after that.”
All of them, Mike included, looked like they were weighing their options: whether to get the information pummeled out of them by Butch now, or the information pummeled back in by Buttercup later.
Mike sighed and said, “Well, the way news travels here, you'd find out by the end of the day anyway. She’s only ever dated one guy, and it basically went down in epic flames.”
“So who the fuck was it?”
If the guys exchanged another look Butch was going to kick all their asses on general principle. They all adopted grim expressions, and Mike finally nodded in the direction of the door. “He just left the table.”
***
Bubbles stared at the boy next to her as they settled in for their last class. She'd gotten relatively lucky-excluding Art, there was only one class today that she shared by herself with one of the boys, and that was Algebra II with Boomer, who seemed the tamest of the three of them. Bubbles and Buttercup both had History with all three, and judging from how she was acting by the end of class, Buttercup's patience was already wearing thin. Something in the back of Bubbles' mind figured there was a reason they'd opted to place the boys in more classes with Buttercup over Bubbles, and while she couldn't say she was disappointed, she definitely felt offended.
All thoughts of that variety, though, were far away as she took in Brick, looking... out of place in the Art room with her. Not that he didn't belong physically, just... Bubbles was suddenly very interested in seeing the portfolio he must've submitted to place in Art IV immediately as a new student.
“When they told you to watch me,” he abruptly said, jarring her from her internal thoughts, “they didn't mean, 'literally.'” He issued a pointed glare at her-trying to intimidate her, she realized. He'd done it earlier, too, when he'd dragged Boomer along to the library; he must've thought she'd crumble like a little girl in the face of two big, scary boys.
Bubbles frowned. Everybody was always underestimating her, she bitterly reflected. Well, the hell with them.
“I know,” she said slowly, mirroring his cold tone. “I was only wondering how an evil criminal like you could possibly have any beauty in him worthy of being considered art.”
That struck a nerve. He set his jaw and growled, “You'd be surprised.”
“Oh, I'm sure,” she agreed, sarcasm curling around every syllable. The look of hatred he issued in her direction as the teacher called class to attention felt deliciously deserved and, oddly, refreshing.
***
The end of the day couldn't come soon enough.
Brick wasn’t bothering with his books; he'd expected high school to pose some sort of challenge but clearly that was not going to be the case. He stashed them into his locker with a look of disgust for good measure and slammed it shut, figuring he wouldn’t be seeing it again till the end of the school year.
The chilling reminder that he was stuck here-here, for fuck’s sake-for another five months only further soured his mood. The girls, too-with Buttercup and Bubbles breathing down his neck all day, it was all he could do to keep from going postal. He hated being watched when he hadn't solicited the attention. His pissiness rose off of him in waves, frightening, sinister, hostile waves, and those with proper senses of intuition wisely edged around him as he made his way to the nearest exit.
He glimpsed Boomer studying a bulletin board, his blue eyes intense. Brick shouldered his brother as he stopped next to him, jarring him from his daze. “What’s up.”
Boomer shot Brick an impish grin. “My ticket to High School Stardom. ‘Scuse me, bro, I’m gonna run.”
Before he could weasel an explanation from him, Boomer had jetted off and through the doors of the rapidly depopulating school. Brick turned and scanned the board for what had held his brother’s attention-
“I’m warning you.”
Brick squinted his eyes and groaned, thumping his head against the board. Jesus bleeding Christ. “What. The fuck. Do you want.”
“I want you to watch your language, for one thing,” Blossom said in a clipped tone.
***
Boomer shifted his cargo into a more comfortable position on his back, nodding amiably at the jittery security guards the city had stationed around their complex. Brick had said something about them being around for the first two weeks in some pathetic effort to make sure the boys weren’t that eager to cause trouble. They may as well have sent a kindergarten class, seriously. As if twenty grown men would be able to stop the Boys if they really felt like starting something…
He shook his head clear and took off, taking a moment to get his bearings in the sky. He hadn’t been here for a few years and was readjusting to the layout of this city, after all, but he could read a map well enough… There, in a suburb literally next door to Townsville High. That was the place. If he really focused his hearing, he could make out the dissonant music drifting from the garage…
He landed in the driveway, startling the three man band in the midst of settling into practice. One at the drums, one clutching a P-Bass, and the other cradling a Squier…
Boomer cocked his head and squinted at the guitar. “Squier Telecaster.” He nodded good-naturedly, trying to mask his pride at his own. “Not a bad instrument.”
“Um, do you need something, dude?” the brown-haired, scruffy looking guy with the bass spoke up, voice wary.
Boomer grinned and took a step, unsurprised when the group shrank back a bit. “I’m here to… huh. How do the pros say it? Aw, fuck it.”
He whipped his Gibson SG around to the front, smirking as he took in their shocked faces. He ran a loving hand along its neck.
“I’m here to join the band,” he said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
***
“So this is your Welcome Committee?” Brick was making an effort not to turn on his most frightening, scathing glare at the girl in front of him, figuring it would do him no good to fuel any suspicions she might have about his integrity. With the way she was scowling at him, though, he found himself having to exercise a significant amount of self-discipline. “Giving newcomers the third degree?”
“You’re no newcomer,” she scoffed. “I know exactly who you are.”
He bristled. Fuck discipline. He felt his gaze harden and the very air around him went dark and cold. Even Blossom wasn’t immune to his effect; there was the barest tensing of her muscles as he angled his head to glare at her properly.
“Is that right,” he said in a low voice, letting just a hint of peril wind itself around his words as he took note of the tightening of her jaw. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”
***
Mitch was more intimidated by super-powered beings than he let on. However, having spent a decent portion of his life as Buttercup’s only best friend, only boyfriend, and now, only ex, he’d become fairly competent at the art of masking fear.
Besides, Boomer was here on serious business. And in turn, Mitch could not take any job application lightly. There were important matters to discuss.
He stepped forward until he was looking Boomer in the eye, clutched his bass for support, and narrowed his eyes. “What’s your favorite instrument?”
“I’m holding it,” Boomer smoothly replied.
“Best guitarist?”
“Dude, Hendrix, hands down.”
“Singer?”
“Freddie Mercury.”
“Best guitar solo?”
Mitch was firing these out one after the other, but Boomer didn’t miss a single beat. “Cosmetic reply is ‘Stairway to Heaven’ or ‘Comfortably Numb,’ but I’ll have to go with Steely Dan’s ‘Reelin’ in the Years.’”
“Best contemporary guitar solo.” This tended to always stump folks, or at least elicit some painfully substandard responses.
Boomer smirked. “The White Stripes’ ‘Ball and Biscuit.’ Though we’re ignoring the fact that the past twenty years worth of guitar solos can’t hold a candle to the twenty years that came before it.”
“I’d argue that point,” Mitch said, a little defensively.
The smug bastard that stood before him actually snorted. “And I’d win.”
Mitch pulled back a bit to eye him. “Alright,” he said slowly. “So you know your shit, I’ll give you that. Let’s see how well you play.”
***
“You know what, sweetheart,” Brick enunciated, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “let me clear this up for you: I. Don’t. Care. I don’t. I’ve got bigger things on my mind than juvenile delinquency in your pitiful excuse for a city.”
Blossom’s eyes went wide. Bigger things? What did that mean?
“Yeah, there’s that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look you do so well again.” He cocked his head and glowered at her. “I gave up on this place years ago. I didn’t come back to waste my time with you and your little ‘Hero Play’ shit.”
“So why bother coming back at all?” Blossom said in a low voice. “It isn’t like anybody here missed you.”
“As far as I can tell, that’s none of your business.” Brick stepped close, towering over her, as if he was trying to stare her down. She didn’t flinch back. “I told you already, I don’t have any intentions of causing trouble. And believe me, even if I did?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re barely worth the effort.”
(cont.)
True to form, I totally killed lj's text limit on this thing. More of ch1 to be posted shortly.