Disclaimer by Butch: Just for the record, Buttercup and I are in our late 20's for this partic-tacular story. All I can say is... wow! This will be a fun one for the older fans. If you're a young one, please proceed with caution. Don't say you haven't been warned. Also, you know the usual yadda-yadda in-a-gadda-da-vida that I gotta say, about how the Powerpuff Girls belong to the mind of Craig McCracken. Well, that's about all I have to say, so proceed...
Go Get The Butter
7:16 PM
On a Sunday
Townsville, CA
Chapter 1: The Ingredients
Butch's POV
Buttercup strolled in through the side door of our abode, having just arrived from a visit to the grocery store. The plastic bags piled up nicely on the kitchen tile floor. From my spot on the living room sofa, I could smell bouts of chocolate, butter, butterscotch candies, buttercream icing, whipped cream, and chocolate ice cream, for my sense of smell was notorious for sniffing out sugar. No doctor I've been to has ever been able to explain why that was, but simply based on the smell of things, it could only mean one possible thing: a birthday was approaching. Don't worry. I was well aware of its forthcoming.
Her birthday was only a few days away, and I had no idea as to what kind of gift she wanted. 'Twas my only dilemma, for I couldn't .
"Butch, I got some groceries that need to be tended to!" She called.
"I'll be right there, honey." Ooh, do I smell honey? I launched myself up from the couch and trotted into the kitchen. I pecked her on the cheek and snatched a number of bags. "These look like ingredients... I wonder what for."
"I think you know."
"Of course I do... it must be Bubbles' birthday." I held her close. "I'll have to send her a text." I smirked. She smirked back and gripped my arm before pulling in for a dense, slippery kiss. After it dissolved, we just sort of gazed into each other's glazed eyes and chatted. Her hands were locked in a vice around my neck, and mine were wrapped around her waistline.
"We have the same birthday, dingus!"
"I know, I know. You'd never make a cake for your sisters."
"Damn right, I wouldn't! It's supposed to be my special day!"
"But also theirs."
"Yeah, well... I wish it wasn't. I wish my birthday was different."
"Hey now. I'm here to treat you differently. I'm here to make everything better."
"Well, I guess my sisters aren't that bad."
"Heh, you kidding? You're the worst!"
"Aw... that's the nicest thing you could say to me," she wrapped tighter around me.
"Hey. Do you have any ideas for a present?"
"Why would you ask me?"
"I could jump out of the cake in a Speedo, if you'd like. I'd think it'd be fun to do."
"Sounds like something you would do."
"I ain't afraid to throw in a lap dance, either." I gleefully suggested. She giggled.
"I know you got the goods."
"Seriously though. What would you like?"
"I dunno... surprise me." I thought for a moment, and then immediately dove into her face with my lips, and firmly locked her hips to mine. By the look in her eyes, I could tell she was surprised. Her nails traveled down and excavated into my back. I squeezed her adorable, brimful butt through her gray jeans, and stealthily pick-pocketed her of the tiny little multi-knife she concealed in her rear pocket.
"The rest of it is in the bedroom, honey." Without another word, she sprinted down the hallway and into our room, leaving me in dust. I grinned and skimmed the groceries for a stick of butter. She never comes back from shopping without at least one.
"When did you install the mini-fridge, Butch?"
"While you were away, honey," I called back, gently slicing the stick in half with her pocket butter knife. "When else?"
"When are you coming back here?"
"Gimme' one sec..."
"...That's four!"
"Alright, alright. Here I come!" I put the sliced butter in the fridge to preserve it for Buttercup's um, "surprise."