I think this is what you'd call AU? Anyway, one day I was sitting in class, and this idea randomly came to me. And I decided to write it out to see how it'd go.

And uh, I don't know much about the law or the court, so I'm just apologizing for any discrepancies beforehand.

P.S. I made them born on November 18, cuz that's when the show first aired. Just for future reference.

Disclaimer: I don't own PPG

It was late June, and the girls had started summer vacation a few days ago, after having completed the third grade. It was a very hot day, but the Professor had taken them out to eat to celebrate.

"Alright girls," called the Professor as he pulled up to their driveway, "hurry in! It's too hot out here." The girls groaned in agreement, complaining about the heat, and flew inside the house. "Much better," the Professor sighed as he entered his air-conditioned house. "Wasn't that a great meal, girls?"

"It was muy delicioso, Professor!" Bubbles chirped.

"Yeah, yeah, we should go again next week," Buttercup agreed.

"It was great! I can't believe we've never been there before," Blossom added, and the girls began discussing their favorite foods at the restaurant. But the Professor was distracted by something near the door– a white envelope addressed to him in a long, thin cursive. It looked familiar. He picked it up, opened it, and began reading:

Dear John,

It's been a long time. How have you been? I'm well. I've been traveling here and there, working on various research projects, but none of them are anywhere near as interesting as the ones we worked on together. It must be a surprise for you to hear from me so suddenly, especially since we haven't spoken for almost 7 years. But I have important matters to discuss, so I'll be stopping by June 26 at around 7 or so. Let's have dinner and catch up, shall we?

Yours truly,

Elizabeth

June 26? That was tomorrow night! The Professor began to panic.

"What's wrong, Professor?" Blossom asked.

"You look worried," Bubbles commented.

"Oh no, it's nothing girls. Nothing to worry about at all," he assured them.

"Are you sure?" Buttercup asked.

"Yes, yes, very sure. But girls, tomorrow night, an old friend is coming over, so I need you girls to stay at Robin's tomorrow, alright?"

"Yay, play date!"

"Is it a lady friend Professor?"

"Uh, yes, but she's an old science partner."

"Right, whatever you say, Professor."

"Now run along girls."

–––

It was 6:50 PM, and the Professor paced anxiously in his living room. He had skipped his usual white lab coat for a dressy suit. The girls were already at Robin's, so the only thing to do was to wait her arrival.

Ding dong. The Professor ran to the door, slowly pulling it open.

"Hello, John," Elizabeth's voice greeted him. "It's been a long time." The Professor looked at her. Almost seven years later, she still looked the same. Her long chestnut hair fell to her hips, and her obsidian eyes shone with the same vivacity that'd dominated her character back then. She wore a little black dress, as if she'd known where they'd be going out to dinner.

"Elizabeth!"

"Oh John, you know to call me Lizzy. And how are you?" she asked, hugging him.

"Oh you know, great. And you?"

"As lovely as ever!"

"Well, shall we go?"

"Yes, yes, let's talk over dinner."

–––

"So why are you here, Lizzy?" the Professor asked after they received their meals at The Great Catch, Townsville's best seafood place.

"Well, John, you remember our experiments, right?"

"Of course." He thought back to that one experiment 8 years ago. The two of them had been working on a dangerous experiment to reduce radioactivity of certain elements. The experiment failed and had resulted in a strange solution that they couldn't find a use for, but they'd patented it and called it Chemical X. Years later, however, the Professor had accidentally knocked some Chemical X that he kept as a memoir into his formula when he created his dear Powerpuff Girls.

"The thing is," she hesitated, "we patented Chemical X together."

"Yes, I remember."

"Well, when you created your daughters, you used Chemical X."

"Go on," the Professor said, now slightly wary.

She sighed. "I'm just going to say this straight out, John. I have legal claim to the Powerpuff girls. At least, we share custody. And I want one of my…daughters… to live with me."

"You…what?" he dropped his fork and stared at her.

"I want one of the girls to live with me," she repeated more firmly.

"N-no," he stammered, "no, they can't. I can't just…give them away like some… thing. You've never even met them!"

"That's why I'm here," her voice became harder.

"No," he stood up. "I won't accept this."

"John, don't make this harder than it has to be," she growled.

"No," he snapped at her and walked out. Lizzy pulled out some bills, slapped them on the table, and followed him out.

"John, listen to me!" she called after him.

"No! You can't just take my daughters from me! You may have a patent on Chemical X, but you have no claim to my girls!" he yelled at her.

"So, it's come to this, huh?" her voice was stony. "I was hoping we could do this civilly. I'll have you know, that I have court documents stating those girls are as much in my custody as yours. Now, we're going to go to your house, and you're going to introduce me to them as their…mother."

–––

"Okay girls, I have a surprise for you," the Professor told them as he picked them up from Robin's house.

"Ooooh, what is it Professor?" Bubbles asked.

"Is it our own pet T-rex?" Buttercup guessed.

"Or Shakespeare's full collection of plays?" Blossom hoped.

"No, no! It's a bunch of pretty dresses," said Bubbles.

"No, unfortunately, it's not," he sighed.

"Then what is it?" Buttercup asked skeptically.

"Well, girls, I'd like you to meet…your mother!" the Professor frowned, as the girls gaped at him. They stared at Lizzy, who smiled warmly at them.

"Hello, girls. I'm Lizzy Martin," she introduced herself, but the girls timidly hid behind their father.

"B-but, we don't even know you," Blossom finally spoke.

"Let me explain. I'm only your mother in a sense. You see, darlings, I helped your daddy create Chemical X, so in a way, you're my daughters too," she laughed softly. "I know we've never spent any time together, but I love you all so much already."

"Hmph," scoffed Buttercup. "We don't need a mom."

"Well, there's more," the Professor admitted reluctantly.

"More surprises?" Bubbles sighed.

"Well, girls, I'm bringing one of you to live with me!" Lizzy smiled, but the girls drew back and stared at her wide-eyed.

"Lizzy, please, they're not ready," the Professor pleaded. Her gaze turned cold, and she threw him a glance, ordering him to back off. Then she donned her sweet façade again, and approached the girls.

"Girls, I have a legal custody over you. And if I don't get that custody, I can take it to the court, and then everything will just get nasty," she spoke sweetly, juxtaposing her threatening words. Lizzy eyed each of the girls in turn, and her gaze finally rested on Blossom, who was now glaring at her. "Such beautiful red hair, such confidence, such vivacity. I can see myself in you, darling." Lizzy took Blossom's hands in her own, but the girl drew back into her sisters' arms. "Come live with me. I have a nice house in England, and you can learn to paint and dance, and we can travel and just enjoy ourselves. What do you say?" she gently forced Blossom to meet her eyes. "Or does the court sound better? Hmm?"

"Elizabeth!" the Professor interjected, pulling the woman away from his daughter. "Enough of that!"

"No, Professor," Blossom's soft voice spoke, "she's right." Her eyes had clouded over, grown darker. She knew what she had to do. Having lightly studied the law in her free time, Blossom understood this was a case they couldn't win. She would go with Lizzy, but she couldn't be forced to stay with her forever. Blossom was entitled to visits back home, and after she was 18, she'd move out anyway. "I'll go."

"What?" Bubbles and Buttercup shrieked.

"Smart girl. That's one person in this family who realizes she can't win this. But I'll tell you what. After one year, if you still want to come back, I'll let you," LIzzy offered.

"Blossom! You can't go!" Bubbles begged her sister.

"Bubbles, I know it's hard to understand. But I'll be back in a year," Blossom tried to console her sister.

"A year's too long, Blossom!" Bubbles sobbed, pulling her sister into a tight hug. Buttercup tried not to cry, but as she joined, the group hug, she too burst into tears.

"You're not leaving, Blossom. You just can't! Who's gonna nag me to finish my homework?" Buttercup cried.

"Maybe you'll learn to be responsible by the time I get back," Blossom smiled sadly.

"Blossom, who's gonna do my hair for me every morning?" Bubbles bawled.

"I'll show you how to before I leave," Blossom tried to console her sister. The girls were consumed by their crying, and stood hugging each other as tears streamed down their faces. The professor stood off to the side, mourning wordlessly. That Blossom would do this broke his heart. When had his little girl grown up? He still remembered when the day they were born like yesterday. He couldn't even bear to call them his creations; they were so much more– they were his daughters.

It was his job as their father to protect them– and he'd failed. He'd lost his precious Blossom to the hands of this conniving woman. A woman he'd trusted enough to work with for three years. But she'd come back and snatched his daughter from him. He had failed.

"Oh John, it's not that bad," she rolled her eyes at him, only to receive a piercing glare that only a mourning father could give. "I'm not taking her as prisoner of war. You can write letters and call and all those familial things you do."

The Professor turned his back on her and joined his daughters' group hug. "Blossom, honey," he whispered, "I'm so sorry."

"Professor," she gave him a peck on the cheek, "don't be. I'll be back after a year. Promise."

"We'll be waiting," he kissed her forehead, as a single tear slid down his cheek.

"Okay, Blossom, I'll come back in two days to pick you up, so get your packing done, dear," Lizzy reminded her. "Well, toodles for now. See you soon." She leaned down and gave Blossom a kiss, as Blossom stiffened at her touch.

Lizzy strolled out the door, and the Utonium family glared after her.

–––

One year later…

A figure twirled around the room, leaping and pirouetting, her hair creating a trail of bright red-orange. She gracefully slowed, turned to face her two spectators, and curtsied.

"How you've improved!" a well-dressed, importantly looking woman walked up to her and pulled her into a hug. "Blossom, I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you, Mama!" the girl beamed at the woman.

The well-dressed woman turned to another lady who'd been sitting in the room, and thanked her, "Ms. Poole, you are truly a remarkable teacher. I cannot believe Blossom has only been under your guidance for nine months!"

"Oh no, Ms. Martin, you cannot give me such credit. Your daughter possesses such talent! And she so young, too! When she came to me, I could hardly believe she was only a beginner! Blossom, dear, I too am so proud of you," Ms. Poole praised her best student.

"Oh, Mama!" the little girl exclaimed, "I must show you my new painting too!" She scurried off to another room, and returned holding a large canvas. Soft, slow brush strokes roamed across the canvas and soothing, earthy colors told the story of a young couple wandering through a lazy meadow. The painting could have easily been mistaken for one by an older, more experienced artist.

"Oh, my!" Ms. Martin gasped. "Blossom, this is beautiful! We'll hang it up right here." She walked over to the fireplace and held the painting up, nodding her head in satisfaction. Blossom, meanwhile, was delighted that her painting was to be the centerpiece of the room.

After Ms. Poole had left, Blossom and her mother were sitting in their living room, drinking their afternoon tea. "Blossom, darling, I can't say how proud I am of you," Ms. Martin smiled at her.

"Oh Mama," Blossom leaned over to give her mother a hug. "I'm so glad you let me learn to paint and dance."

"Blossom," Ms. Martin gently brushed aside her daughter's bangs, "you know I would let you learn anything you'd like." She took a sip of her tea. "Now," her voice became a little more serious, "have you thought about it?"

Blossom bit her lip and sighed. "Yes, I have. And…I-I don't want to go back. It would mean missing my lessons for so long, and Emily offered to invite me to her country home for a week, and I've already promised Sandra I'd go with her to France in a month. A-and it's only been a year, and I know I said I'd go back, b-but they won't miss me too much if I don't go this year," she justified.

"Anything you like, sweetie," her mother chuckled. "I'll go tell them right now not to expect you this summer." And maybe not the next, either, Blossom thought guiltily to herself.

–––

Seven more years later…

That same red-haired girl sat down in her living room. She picked up a stray book on the coffee table, Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, opened to a random page, and began reading. She had grown up well into a beautiful young woman. Her chest had filled out, and her simple white blouse revealed a little cleavage. Her legs, long and lean from dancing everyday, were elegantly crossed. She wore a small red bow in her hair, having switched out the large one a long time ago.

"Blossom!" a young man her age walked toward her.

"Henry!" she smiled, hugged him, and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"And how are you, love?"

"Terribly unhappy," she pouted.

"Oh it's not too bad. We can still talk. And if it makes you feel any better, I'll think of you everyday," he comforted her.

"How could she do this? And for the rest of the school year too!"

"Well, she had no choice– you haven't visited them for eight years. And he is still your father, and they're still your sisters, you know. And, of course, court orders."

"You'll call me right?"

"Of course. Every day," he reassured her before pulling her into a tight embrace. "So when are you leaving?"

"In an hour. Jeremy's taking me to the airport."

"Would like me to accompany you?"

"That would make me so much happier!"

"Well that's what I'm here for."

"You're the best, Henry."

"Only for you, love."

–––

Eight years ago, Blossom would have given anything to never leave Townsville. And yet, she shamefully admitted to herself, now she would have given anything to be back in England. Oh, the ironies of time. Blossom looked through the car window and sighed. Townsville looked almost the same, yet different– it seemed darker. The sun was shining brightly, but there were less happy-going townspeople, and everyone scurried along the streets as if they were in a hurry. Not many stopped to have a chat with or greet a friend. The downtown area had a bit more life to it, but it still wasn't as vibrant as she remembered it. As the car headed to the suburbs, some of the passing buildings looked old and worn, filled with cracks and craters that'd never been filled in. Soon these buildings faded into little houses, and Blossom, who started to recognize some of these homes, swallowed nervously. She felt guilty. It had been an awfully long time since she'd seen them. After a couple years, they sat in the back of her memory while painting, dancing, school, her friends, Henry, and Mama took the center. Occasionally she thought about them, wondering if she should write, but there'd just never been time to. She sighed and wondered what this reunion would be like.

The driver pulled up to the familiar white house. It still had the same three windows that overlooked the street from her old bedroom, but the house looked older and worn– it was in need of a paint job, the windows had lost their gleam, and the lawn had little patches of weeds here and there. Blossom sighed again, and smoothed out her dress. She'd picked a light pink sundress, her favorite one actually, for this occasion. Taking hold of her pink suitcase, she took a deep breath and marched to the front door.

It opened before she had a chance to ring the doorbell, and she found herself face to face with a young blonde. She wore a light blue tank top and frayed white shorts, which, Blossom noted, was not very classy. "Blossom!" the girl gasped.

"Hi…Bubbles," Blossom mumbled shyly.

"Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!" were the only words Bubbles could muster, and suddenly she pulled an unexpecting Blossom into a tight hug. Bubbles released her sister, turned around, and called out, "Buttercup! Come here! And get the Professor too! Hurry!" The bubbly girl returned her attention to Blossom, "Come in Blossom! Here, let me take your suitcase." Bubbles grabbed the suitcase, as she ushered her sister into the house. "Are you hungry? Lemme go get you something to eat," Bubbles said before her sister could even respond.

Blossom looked around her. Memories flooded to her; all the times she'd spent here, all fun they'd had, all the games and talks and laughing. She spotted a dusty photo frame hanging on the wall; she walked over and wiped away some of the dust. It was an old photo, taken when the girls were only in kindergarten: they were laughing and circling around the Professor as he smiled up at them. On a little table in the entryway sat three framed pictures. They were messy drawings she and her sisters had done as children. She recognized the center one as hers: a drawing of a dancing girl in a pink tutu. On the right was Buttercup's– a picture of a roaring, big green monster. To the left sat Bubble's picture of a forest full of happy animals. Blossom couldn't help but smile.

Upon hearing footsteps, Blossom turned around and found her other sister standing at the bottom of the stairs. Her cropped black hair was messy, which matched her sloppy dark green T-shirt and sweats. "Blossom," she said.

"Hi, Buttercup," Blossom replied. They hugged awkwardly, and then neither knew what to say. Fortunately, Bubbles entered with plate of sandwiches.

"Oh, Blossom, I've missed you so much! , eat up," she insisted. Blossom took one– it was good, but not as good as the ones her cook made. "Buttercup, isn't this great? All three of here, after so long," Bubbles sighed.

"Yeah, after so long," Buttercup echoed.

"So Blossom, how've you been? Is Europe fun? You have to tell me everything!" Bubbles pulled her sister to the couch and sat down.

"Um, I'm well. And Europe's fun. Our house is nice. And everything's been great," Blossom answered in short cropped speech.

"Blossom!" a man's voice called. She whirled around and saw the Professor standing across the room. Eight years had done a lot to him. His hair had tufts of gray, and wrinkles were etched into his skin. He looked weary and haggard, and the familiar white lab coat was now frayed and stained.

"Professor," Blossom stood up.

He walked dazedly to her and hugged her for a long time. When he finally let go, he smiled at her and said, "Just call me Dad, Blossom." Even his voice sounded tired.

"Okay…Dad," Blossom hesitated.

"Oh, Blossom," he sighed, "you've grown so much. When I last saw you, you were only this tall." He gestured to under his hip and smiled sadly. "It's been so long. And now, that little girl's grown into a beautiful young lady." Blossom could see tears forming at the corners of his eyes, and without thinking, she hugged him. Bubbles walked over silently and joined them, and before long, Buttercup was hugging them too.

"You know," Bubbles said, her voice shaky, "it's like when you left. We're all in a big group hug again."

"I've really missed you guys," Blossom managed to choke out before succumbing to her tears.

"Yeah, we've missed you too," Buttercup whispered, her voice cracking a bit, and a comfortable silence settled over them.

Hope you liked it! :D

Feedback would be super appreciated. Comments, questions, suggestions, insults– anything you like.