Out-Of-Story Notes / Disclaimer: First of all, before any of you lovely people flaaame me, I want to note that Sniper (Yes! Sniper!) gave me permission to write this. Ha! Eat your hearts out, you compulsive flamers! Other than that, I like comments. And reviews. Well, you don't have to, but it'd be nice if you read this story and liked it. Also, this is kind of just a short, semi-depressing semi-romantic side story. To fill in for all that empty space. Mm.. that's about it. Oh, and the whole concept of the Powerpuff Universe, so on, belongs to Cartoon Network and Craig McCracken and junk. Yeh. So, on with the show!

just reflections.
by Rey

The scene opens onto a small-sized, drab room. Three color-coded beds lie in three territorially-marked corners of this room. This, of course, is the improvised, makeshift pad of the Rowdyruff crew. What dim light there was came from a single, flickering flashlight, which the ruff's carrot-topped leader currently held.

Brick, seated on his bed with his legs crossed in a meditative position, clutches the flashlight, large red-hued eyes taking in the peaceful scene around him. His brothers were already sound asleep, Boomer clutching a small doll fashioned in the likeness of Bubbles, a slight frown etched onto his features as he slept, and Butch acting out his violent dream physically, half-punching and kicking with muffled grunts. The red-capped one sighed, removing that trademark baseball cap and reaching slowly to lay it on the dresser. Setting the flashlight on the mattress for a moment, he brought his hands up to run back through his scruffy orange bangs. It had been a busy day for all three, what with their training and hardly any breaks. Their aching desire just to see the girls again, however, made it all the worse.

A sigh escaped as he closed those owl-liked orbs for a moment, inhaling deeply. Calm and breathe deep, Blossom would have told him... But no, thinking about her hurt. Wrenching his mind away from thoughts of his most dear beloved, he instead turned his attentions to his brothers, and their respective sides of their room.

Boomer. Oh, he was so interested by fighter planes, the posters on the navy-blue wall and the models by his bedside said it all. Brick could just faintly remember the sound of Bubbles' delighted giggling. Boomer was one lucky guy... but then, weren't they all? Oh, and of course there were those juvenile Pocket Monster things. It had never come to Brick why Boomer enjoyed playing with them. And then again, they were all different. His brothers probably found him strange for reading so many books on wartime tactics and history and everything else that they found boring. It made Brick feel better, even though he was alone in his head, and his thoughts echoed strangely. Just his way of getting away, really.

Butch. Oh, he was still kicking up a racket. It was a wonder how Boomer could sleep through that noise. Dreaming of Bubbles, perhaps. Brick's eyes traveled to the wall that was painted dark green in Butch's corner, and the numerous posters and magazine tear-outs that covered it. Weapons, vehicles, and... Well, he wouldn't think about the women that were striking various sultry poses next to the weapons, most just barely clothed. Brick was completely devoted to Blossom. He only hoped she knew.

Just at that moment, the unsteadily sputtering light emitted from the flashlight disappeared with a quiet 'pop'. The room was devoid of the former dull light and Brick had to give himself a few moments to let his eyes adjust. With a stifled snort, Boomer turned over, still clutching his little Bubbles doll. Brick, yawning, stretched towards the end of his bed where, lying on the pillow was his own little 'chibi' doll. In the back of his mind, that tiny, persistent little voice cried, What could Blossom be doing now? The sane part of his brain replied, Sleeping, like any regular person. Blossom was so adorable when she slept. Adorable? More like... breathtakingly beautiful, the way her hair spread out onto the pillow, framing her face like a halo, a heavenly light, when she forgot to tie it up.

Dimly holding the doll close to his heart, his round eyes slowly flickered to the dresser. Neatly framed was a photo of Blossom. His only photo of her. Oh, and she looked so lovely in it too... His heart just melted.

And his mind wandered back. On a trip down memory lane, almost. Flashback. He could see it clearly now, Blossom's enchantingly beautiful face crinkled in anger. She pointed at him, raging, "You and your ruffian brothers were going to ambush my sisters and myself!" They had argued violently. It almost brought a tear to his eye, but just in the knick of time he caught himself, though holding a "finger" to his eye in case. Brick's eyes shimmered in some strange light as he turned his gaze downwards towards the doll he held tightly, and towards the photograph on the nightstand.

"I love you, Blossom. God, I love you." Biting his lip, he closed his eyes slowly, hugging the doll all the tighter. He was captivated, enraptured by her sweet features, her melodious voice, the way her lovely hair cascaded down her shoulders, more beautiful than a thousand rainbows or waterfalls. And it wasn't just her appearance. It was as if they were made for each other.

But aren't we? So alike. It couldn't just be a coincidence, could it?... But problems like these couldn't divert the course of his thoughts. All he wished for was when this would all finally be over. When he could go back to Blossom and they could live happily ever after.

What am I thinking? He was dreaming about living in a fairy tale world with her. Mentally reprimanding himself (and quite viciously), Rowdyruffs can't be wussy, dammit! It's the isolation getting to me... Excuses sprung to his mind, but he knew the real reason. He wasn't isolated, he was just.. away. Away from Blossom. And it wasn't affecting just him, either. He'd noted that Boomer would spent extended periods of time staring into space, holding his Bubbles doll. Butch seemed distracted, even during fights, so much that he would become careless. Either way, he missed his girl. If there was only some way to talk to her.. contact her... even just say "Hello, how are you?"

He was so deeply absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the form of Butch sit up in his bed to glare at him. Butch cleared his throat semi-loudly and snapped brusquely in Brick's direction. "Jeez, Brick, it's two-fucking-AM. Will you stop starin' at the fuckin' ceiling and get some sleep?!" Butch's language, as usual, was laden with curses and strong words. Brick couldn't figure out how he'd woken his brother, but he decided he wouldn't push the matter. Blossom... Blossom wouldn't want him to.

"A'ight, sorry, man. Jus' thinkin'."

Butch's harsh expression softened slightly, and he tilted his head as he formed a question. "The girls, huh?"

One eyebrow raised at how his brother had read him so easily, he nodded in reply. Butch shrugged, sitting up straighter to study Brick with a strange expression, almost as if Brick were a laboratory animal showing signs of some uncharacteristic behavior.

"It's... it's gotten to me too, this loneliness. I miss 'em so fuckin' much, 'specially Buttercup." If it's imaginable, Butch gave an lovesick sigh. Brick just grinned, but laid off the mocking comments. It was late, after all, and he was just starting to feel the weariness after so long of non-stop action.

Butch spoke up again after a moment or two to let that sink in, scratching the side of his head wearily. "Jus' think 'bout when we'll have 'em back again. Worth waitin' through all this training shit, eh?" A subtle grin showed on Butch's calloused face, owl-like green eyes blinking open and closed slowly.

"Yeah..." Brick paused, to return Butch's small grin with one of his own. A pause, and, "...Well, goin' to bed then, like you said. Goodnight, Butch." Brick ended the conversation, yawning widely and stretching, attempting to use those subtle body nuances to influence Butch into going to sleep and leaving him alone.

"'night," Butch muttered in his voice that was more like a constant growl, and rolled over. Within moments he was soundly, and at this moment peacefully, asleep once more.

Brick's cheeky ruff grin turned to a soft smile as he slowly straightened out his pillow, kicking back the covers to nudge himself under them. "Butch's smarter than he shows," he thought. And, holding the Blossom doll tight, he nuzzled down into the bedding, closing his eyes slowly, to finally and thankfully be consumed into dreams of their happier days.