Creeaak. BANG.

Boomer lifted his face out of his hands. A visitor? he wondered. Sitting up, he strained his ears. Even though his cell was had thick walls, he could still hear muffled voices. He easily recognized the guard's Western drawl, but the other voice was new. New around the jail, at least.

Actually, Boomer knew the voice quite well. The sickeningly sweet tone, the high pitched singsong voice.

Heck, he even recognized her footsteps.

But what baffled him the most was the reason why she was there. Why would the sweetest heroine of Townsville be visiting a jail? Did she want to brag about her freedom? Nah, he thought, that's what Buttercup would do. But what was Bubbles Utonium doing at Townsville Jail? He sat up, put his elbow on his leg, and rested his chin in his hand. He thought…and he thought…and he sighed.

Thinking was never really his thing. That was something Brick was good at, not him. Gosh, if Boomer was the leader of the Rowdyruff Boys, there probably wouldn't even be a Rowdyruff Boys at that point. He couldn't complete a word find, nonetheless think of what his enemy would do next.

Footsteps. Talking. Footsteps. Talking. What the heck is she doing? Boomer thought crossly. He couldn't figure it out if his life depended on it. He definitely couldn't try to see what she was doing because his cell was inside an antechamber. The only thing he could do was wait.

Darn it, he hated waiting.

"Can I go in there?" he heard her say. Wow, she got to his cell quickly, even without super speed.

"You know a Rowdyruff's in there, right?" the guard asked.

"Oh! Really? Which one?" she asked curiously.

"The blue one."

"Oh! Boomer. I'm sure he'd love these!" Love what? Boomer thought in frustration.

"A'ight then little lady; go on in. You won't mind if I watch you two, will ya'?"

"No, not at all," she chirped.

The door creaked open and in skipped Bubbles. He noticed that she had a basket hooked onto her left (or was it right?) arm. "Hi Boomer," she said with a smile. She dug into her basket and held out a cookie. "Want one? It's triple chocolate-chip."

He could feel the drool build up in his mouth. Triple chocolate-chip. His favorite cookie. He knew that he probably shouldn't take anything from his enemy, but it was just a cookie. Why would Bubbles put poison in a cookie? He already had Antidote X in his system, and he was in jail; there was no need to kill him or anything.

"Uh, sure," he said cautiously. He got up and walked over to the iron bars that separated him and Bubbles.

"I hope you like it! It's my daddy's old recipe," she said as she handed him the cookie.

He looked at the cookie. It was dark brown loaded with chocolate chips. He quickly took a bite, and soon after groaned in pleasure. It was so good.

Bubbles giggled. "I thought you'd like it! It's my favorite cookie, too."

Boomer winced inwardly. Crud. He had something in common with his enemy.

"What are you doing here, anyways?" he mumbled through a mouthful of cookie.

"Oh, I accidentally made twice as many cookies as I needed because Buttercup purposely doubled the recipe, hoping she could get the second batch all to herself. Well, Blossom caught onto her plan and told me. I was like, 'No way!' but she was like, 'Yeah way,' and I knew Blossom was always right, so I trusted her. So Blossom told me that I should give the cookies to a charity or friends or something, but I thought, 'I bet the criminals would like a cookie!' because I thought criminals don't have cookies in jail, so I thought a cookie would be a pleasant surprise for them, but it turns out a lot of them weren't hungry because they all said, 'No, I don't want a darned cookie!' Well, actually, they used a bad word, but I don't really like cussing because I got a time out the last time I did so…yeah."

Boomer had stopped listening after the first few seconds of her speech. Heck, he finished his cookie half way through. To show his boredom, he let his head droop and snored loudly.

But instead of being offended, Bubbles giggled. "Hehe, yeah I talk too much. It's a habit I can't seem to break."

Leaning on the jail bars, he asked, "Why are you so happy all the time, anyways?"

"Well," she began excitedly, "happiness is just is very contagious, so if I'm happy, everyone else is happy! I know that because one time, this guy named…uh…I think…uh…Lou Goober or something… he had this machine-ray-thing that made everyone sad. So I was about to win the Happiest Citizen award when suddenly the crowd burst out in tears! Even Buttercup was crying, so I thought something was wrong. Then this silly, plump old man with the funniest glasses I've ever seen—and his hat was just as funny—skipped up to me and he said, 'Hahaha! I'm the happiest citizen in Townsville and you're not! Hah!' And the big meanie took my trophy! Of course, I started to cry, not only because of his machine-ray-thing, but also because he stole my trophy! So the Professor, my daddy, took out his calculator and was like, 'Townsville will be' drown—drown… uh… what's the word? Oh, well you know; buried in water. Anyways, so he was all, 'Townsville's going to be buried in water because everyone's crying so much!' Then this big orange fish monster with like a bazillion eyes started crying, so the Professor was like, 'Oh no! Townsville will be drowned-ed in five minutes!' so he told us to make jokes so everyone would start laughing and stop crying. So me and my sisters went up the uh…what're those things that the Mayor stands behind when he does his speech? Um…uh…um. Well, we went up to the tall, rectangular, wooden thingy-ma-jig and we told jokes and everyone was still crying and no one was laughing. It was horrible! And then I realized I had a banana in my hat—I was wearing this cute hat with a bunch of fruit on it at the time—so I thought of the joke, 'What's yellow and has lots of appeal? A banana!' Y'know, because bananas are yellow and have a peal! So then I told this joke to this sad little birdy, and he was still crying, and so I was really sad, because the bird didn't laugh at my joke, so I was like, 'I give up!' and threw my banana peel away. Well, it just so happens that the banana peel landed right where Mr. Goober was walking, so he stepped on it, and then he tripped, and then he fell! And everyone—like every single person, dog, bird, and monster—started laughing because it was really funny and stuff, and Townsville was saved!"

Boomer started banging his head on the wall right after Bubbles said, "Well…"

"Oops, I'm sorry," Bubbles said through a giggle. "I uh, talked too much, huh?"

"Yeah, a little," Boomer said sarcastically while rubbing his head.

Bubbles looked around the room a bit and frowned.

"What?" Boomer asked, annoyed and curious at the same time.

"Oh…I was just thinking…"

"Big surprise," the jail guard mumbled. Obviously, he was also extremely irritated with Bubbles' endless rambling.

"You don't have much to be happy about, do you?" Bubbles, who didn't seem to hear the guard, asked sadly.

"Well, let's see…I'm in jail, I have no powers, I'm as bored as…uh…um…"

"A wall?" Bubbles suggested.

Boomer cocked his head and raised an eyebrow.

"Well, walls don't have much fun, either. They just sit there."

Boomer waved his hand in the air passively. "Yeah, yeah. A wall. I'm as bored as a wall every day, the food here is basically Styrofoam, I rarely get to see my brothers—"

"And you have to wear those terrible orange jumpsuits!" Bubbles yelped.

"Well, actually, they're real comfy, but that's not the point. The point is that I'm having a miserable time here."

"Oh…well, I'm sorry," Bubbles said with sincere pity.

"Sorry? You should be since you're the one who sent me here!" Boomer yelled. "And you're making my day even worse by coming up here like you own the place and rambling on and on and on about nothing!" Actually, that wasn't his main reason for being angry. It was the fact that Bubbles wasn't being mean to him. For Pete's sake, she's his enemy! Shouldn't she talking smack to him? Gosh, she was being nicer to him than his brothers! And for some reason, that bothered him to no end. She should be glad that the cell's iron bars separated us, he thought, forgetting that he had no powers and could easily lose to Bubbles at this point.

Bubbles looked down sadly. "Sorry," she mumbled. She suddenly looked up at the wall clock. "Oh! I have to go. Um, I guess I'll see you later."

Boomer gave no response. He only turned and sat back down on his bed.

The guard opened the antechamber's door and let Bubbles out. Soon, both of them were out of the room.

He knew he hurt Bubbles' feelings. He couldn't sense the spring in her step anymore. He couldn't hear her cheery humming.

But he didn't care. And why would he? She's his enemy. You don't have feelings for the enemy.

Her visit did ruin his mood, even though she gave him a cookie. Must be because she was so freakin' annoying, he concluded. It had to be.

Or was it?

A week later…

"Visitor," the guard said after he rapped on the door.

Boomer mumbled a "come in, I guess" after he rolled off of his bed. Sure, it was about ten o' clock in the morning, but he really didn't have much to do other than sleep.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he watched Bubbles bounce in with a plate full of cookies. Unfortunately, the plastic wrap covering them kept Boomer from smelling the lovely scent of triple chocolate-chip cookies.

"Uh," Bubbles peered at the guard's nametag. "Officer Sanderson, how do I give them to him?" She knew the plate couldn't squeeze in between the iron bars.

"You can't. We 'ave to search any gifts the prisoners get."

"Aw, c'mon! They're just cookies!" she whined innocently. "Do you really think I'd have anything bad in there?"

"Well…no…but rules are rules, darlin'."

"Please?" she whimpered with a pout.

The guard bit his bottom lip and thought for a moment. "Fine, but don't tell anyone, a'ight?"

"Okie dokie!"

He unlocked the prison bars and slid them open. Of course, Boomer knew there wasn't much chance of escaping. The second door was most likely locked. Plus, Boomer was too tired to think about escape at the moment.

Bubbles walked in and held the plate out towards Boomer. "I added a little something extra. Hopefully it'll make your day happier," she chirped with a wink.

With his mind still in a fog, he took the plate and set it on his bed. "Thanks, I guess."

An awkward silence settled as Bubbles shifted uncomfortably.

"So, uh…are you gonna go now?" Boomer asked.

"Oh, yeah, I guess I should. Bye!" And with that, she exited. Disappeared. Left.

Now Boomer was all alone in the peace and quiet. The boring peace and quiet. He might've hated Bubbles, but at least her visits occupied his time.

He looked over at the plate of cookies. Well, might as well have one now. He carelessly ripped the plastic off the plate and munched on a cookie. Hmm, it tastes a bit different, he thought. It seemed much sweeter…much stronger. Yeah, "stronger" is a good word for it.

After eating all the cookies (why bother in saving them? He'll eat them eventually), Boomer was once again bored. Story of my life, he thought dully. He leaned back, letting his head hit the wall.

CRACK.

Boomer's eyes widened as he twisted around. The wall had a large crack where he had slammed his head against the wall. The wall wasn't that fragile, he knew. His head didn't even hurt.

It couldn't be, he thought. He grasped the edge of the bed, and sure enough, it crumbled to pieces of concrete.

This could only be the cause of one thing. Chemical X. But how? How could Chemical X have entered his body?

He looked at the empty plate cluttered with cookie crumbs. "Something extra," huh? he thought. It took a few minutes of contemplation before he put two-and-two together. She put Chemical X in his cookies.

Maybe you're not as bad as I thought, Bubbles.

-The end-

Author's Notes:

I facepalm myself for forgetting to mention this. I purposely used bad grammar and not-so-awesome vocabulary in Bubbles' and Boomer's dialogue so they sound in-character.

And yes, a friend of mine pointed out that I switched verb-tense occasionally (which is a bad habit of mine), but I thought, "I already have it published and I'm feeling super lazy (admittedly, I'm unbelievably lazy with some things. I frown upon my sloth-ness.), so let's just keep the mistakes there for now."

And for all of those who are wonder, yes, I did put in this author's note in a day after I published the story. Why? I'm an extremely forgetful person and forgot to put an a/n in here the first time. :D