Hate: to feel an intense or passionate dislike of someone...

-l-

He groaned and his hand slid down his face irritably. Never again. Never again… was he allowing… Butch… free reign… at a bachelor party.

Never…again.

Did he want to know the status of his other brother? Unconscious? Oh most likely. As for Brick's former college roommate and the aforementioned groom… he grabbed his phone off the handy nearby bed table to his right and then groaned again at the picture within. Dumb ass was flat on his ass- a lampshade over his head like a moron and he had marker all over his face like a further moron. Clearly Boomer had had fun: Ugh… this is why little brothers should not be allowed at bachelor parties. Terrible things happen. Jerry was gonna be pissed as hell if the idiot had used permanent marker and he ended up in wedding photos with crudely drawn male appendages. Tina would not be happy either. Brick already had a headache he did not need another one.

Where the fuck is the aspirin? What day is it… fuck the wedding's tomorrow ain't it? Right. Or is it today? I don't remember. Fuck my head hurts!

How much…had Brick had to drink? He never drank if he could help it: the feeling of being out of control for any amount of time was by no means pleasant for the Red Rowdyruff- plus fire breath and out of control Rowdyruff meant very bad things.

And very bad things… meant even worse visits from stick in the mud goody two shoes and fucking bad fashion sense who dressed like grandma's and acted like em' too!

Bitch was probably still a virgin too despite being twenty six. She acted more like she was seventy-six. Bitch. No right to that killer body with that attitude. No right. It was a waste of curves the way she had covered them in those grandma skirts or too loose jeans and shirts buttoned up to the neck. Nothing but a goddamn waste he'd always said.

Stuck up bitch. With her bright red stupid bow she persisted in wearing in some form or another despite the aforementioned whole twenty six thing going on here. Seriously- four more years and she'd be thirty: Ha! Old maid!

… Just because he would be thirty too didn't mean squat shit by the way. Brick at least acted like a man in his twenties still. That bitch probably didn't even know how to! Pfft… bah whatever. He was still in need of aspirin, and a water to swallow said aspirin with and to find his pants and-.

… Pants?

He blinked and looked down. Odd. He was indeed very much naked. Strange that… and this didn't look like his room… or his hotel room for that matter. His gaze flicked around the unfamiliar surroundings. The room first of all was immaculate save for the pile of clothes near the door- ah there were his boxers he should probably get those back on.

So… missing boxers back in hand… he noticed the room also…smelled rather nice too. Like a weird incense thing going on… or scented candles. Brick's room was by no means smelly of course but… his overtime at the shipping company for the last couple of weeks hadn't given him a lot of time to do laundry so…

Yeah whatever. Damn it his head was pounding. Did this mystery room happen to have a handy meds dispenser somewhere? Ugh vodka… vodka and… whatever it was that Butch had shoved down his throat… it had burned like shit- even for a fire breather… whiskey? Maybe? Something strong. Ugh… this is also why Brick usually just stuck to beer.

He caught a glimpse of a bottle in a nearby waste basket. Well… they weren't very ecofriendly whoever was in charge of this room: Though judging from the fact that the wine bottle was more or less empty… maybe it had been an accident. Who knew- Brick wasn't one to judge- after all he almost always threw his plastic away despite Boom's fucking environmentalist kick he'd adopted lately to impress some mystery chick or whatever. Ugh. Idiot.

He picked up the bottle idly. Good year. Nice brand… kind of expensive. Not the type from the bar he had been in last night… this was a sophisticated drink for sure. One which would involve pinkies out and snobbish attitudes upon consuming it. He buzzed his lips.

So… freakishly clean room, incense or… some kind of perfume around him, snobby wine.

Cute little black dress in a pile by the door tossed over the remains of what Brick was pretty sure had been the shirt he'd been wearing… Fuck man that had been his favorite shirt!

Yep… he'd met some chick last night. Great… another reason Brick usually avoided alcohol like the plague. He was an extremely handsome son of a bitch: Women flocked to him and too many times to count in college he'd awoken in the wrong dorm room and had some clinging shrew whose name he hadn't been able to recall which had turned those little coo's into banshee shrieks and good ole Jerry had had to come to his rescue.

Because that's what Frat Brothers did. They looked out for each other. He was glad Jerryy had met Tina- they were great together – did Brick still think the guy was nuts putting himself in the yoke so early… oh yeah. Did he say shit? Nope- cause despite his so called "evil" past Brick was a good guy. And with his law degree in hand he'd soon be rolling in the dough: he'd find himself a nice trophy wife when he was rich enough by the time he was… thirty five maybe? Yeah something like that.

Before then though… heh Brick was single, ready to mingle and rock any willing lady's world.

As he clearly had last night. Shame he couldn't remember. It wasn't often he'd meet a girl brave enough to shred a Rowdyruff boy's favorite shirt. The bed looking at it looked pretty disheveled and… oh hey not so immaculate after all: the remains of what must have been a lamp were scattered across the floor and the base lay limply by a nearby wall: Huh looked like it got thrown.

Weird…

CRASH

He blinked and then blinked again. Uh…

I HATE YOU!

YEAH WELL I HATE YOU!

I HATED YOU FIRST!

BULLSHIT BABE I WAS BORN TO HATE YOU!

He felt his heart stop.

Oh no… no… not… not that… why… why was that horrifyingly familiar sounding voice drifting through his foggy head?! There was a slight groan and he turned around stiffly. A flash of… red… caught his eye.

Red…hair…

No. Please for all that is sacred and holy and whatever else shit people spouted about- Not that. Anything but THAT!

Please for the love of God do not… he didn't… please someone tell him he didn't-!

Another slight groan before his bed mate of the previous evening rolled over, that cascade of long red hair trailing towards the spot that Brick had only just recently been occupying and… and…

She was naked.

Fucking hell why was Blossom Utonium naked in a bed Brick had previously been occupying?

Why was she naked? Holy shit she had a nice body- again it was a gift from the Gods she had wasted for years. But why was she naked? Did Blossom Utonium have a tattoo?

Why did she have a tattoo… those were immoral. Bad. Only evil people got tattoos.

Why did Blossom Utonium have a tattoo?

Why was she naked?

Had they slept together?

Fuck they'd slept together.

Why had they slept together!?

He was in Blossom's apartment. This swanky penthouse deal only a filthy rich super heroine could afford. Nice taste. Not covered in pink frills everywhere. Not bad.

That wasn't the issue here.

Why was he here?! Why was Blossom naked in bed? Why had he been naked with her!?

What had… oh…wait… alcohol haze… fading…. Memory fuzzy but… becoming clearer.

-l-

They'd met up at the bar. Or Boomer like a dope had pointed her out. He didn't remember. Something had made him turn around. She was pissed. She was angry. She'd been wearing a little black dress that dared show off her chest.

-l-

He floated slightly off the ground as he picked up the remains of what had once been his shirt and realized with a sick jolt his hat was missing. Great.

-l-

Her boyfriend had broken up with her. Or cheated on her. Or something. Or was it fiance? Fuck it might have been fiance – jackass-… point was… what was with people getting married so damn young!? Twenty six?! What the fuck- Brick wasn't getting married til he was thirty something- he wanted to LIVE damn it! … So Blossom wasn't a stuck up old virgin. – Why was she marrying such a tool… why had she almost married such a tool he meant to say.

-l-

Shit one would think a so called super genius would be able to tell an asshole from another. Oh hey- there's his shoe.

-l-

So there the twenty six year old spinster had sat. Slumped on the bar- nursing her latest Cosmo or margarita or whatever she'd been drinking. There were a lot of glasses there in front of her.

-l-

A lot of glasses here in this apartment too. That explained the evil glass bottle in the trash. Along with a pile of tissues covered in what Brick recognized as mascara strewn around the table of wineglasses. Jackass. Brick was gonna go punch him in the face after he found his hat.

-l-

She'd looked so sad. And so pissed. And so angry. But mostly sad. And she'd been crying.

She'd been a heartbroken snotty bitch who had told him to fuck off.

She had sworn. This had intrigued him. The sleaze ball at her side had also been intrigued by the pleasingly out of character little dress and rather touchy. She had cussed the bastard out. Brick had punched the guy in the face. Not the one he had been hoping to but it had made him feel better regardless.

She had then as a thank you for his chivalry told him to go fuck an inanimate object as that was the only thing that would ever love him and to leave her the fuck alone.

Brick had left her alone. She had stayed at the bar. He had gone back to his party. She had ended up being accosted again. This time the guy ended up embedded in the wood floor. He had taken the empty seat and she had bought him a drink.

-l-

Where oh where had that little hat gone. Oh where... oh where could it be...

-l-

The guy was an ass. He'd wanted her for her body and her fame. She'd been a dumb ass who'd believed honeyed words. Her sisters had warned her. Funny how she didn't listen. She was an idiot.

He'd bought her next drink. She wasn't an idiot. He was just an ass. who obviously hadn't deserved her.

-l-

Seriously what the fuck. Where was his goddamn hat!?

-l-

She'd bought her dress. Nonrefundable. She was there getting the nerve to burn it. The chick had way too big lips. She looked like a clown with her cheap lip job. With cheap red lipstick. She had prettier lips.

That was a damn shame. No taste in women obviously because indeed she did- pleasingly plump with just the right amount of natural pink. She had the better looking lips for sure.

Her boobs were fake. Her fiancé… now ex fiancé had paid for them. The trashy witch had emailed the pictures to her. As well as sent a photo of a stick with two lines on it. She worked at the same office as her. Forgot to take her off an email chain. She was stupid too. Why did stupid people exist? Her boobs were better. They weren't pointy.

Because there had to be a balance somehow in the scheme of the world. And indeed her boobs were not pointy. They looked pleasingly round.

She was drunk.

Indeed.

He was hot.

People said that.

He was an asshole he wasn't allowed to be hot. He'd been hot in high school too. It wasn't fair. Her ex had been hot… but not as hot as Brick. It wasn't fair. Brick had graduated with a law degree. He wasn't allowed to be hot and smart. He was bad. He was evil. Why was he so hot?

He was sorry for breaking some unwritten rule of the code of physical attractiveness. Of course he had been every girl in school had wanted him… except a certain someone. Law paid the most. He hadn't committed a crime in a few years thanks. It was a conundrum wasn't it? What had she been up to?

He should be. She'd been the only smart girl that had attended that school obviously. Of course he'd do it for the money. She knew that but he was still evil. She had an English degree. She worked for a publishing company or she had. She'd been fired. Dumping hot coffee over ex fiancé's lap and ripping out the bad hair extensions of his floozy was apparently frowned upon in this day and age. Bitch deserved it. Why was Brick so hot?

He would have paid good money to see that. She definitely had. The fates had simply been kind.

It'd gone viral. Be sure to check it out. She hated men. Why was Brick so hot?

He'd get right on that. Not all men were assholes. And it was a mystery mankind had been trying to solve for years.

She guessed that was true. Boomer wasn't an asshole. Her sister was dating his brother by the way. Wasn't supposed to tell anyone but it was getting obvious. Why was Brick so hot?

That explained the sudden care for the environment. He'd be sure to get the full story when the blue moron was conscious once more. He was hot like the fire that surged through his veins at the very sight of her.

She'd bought him another drink.

-l-

He found his other shoe next to a bright red ribbon that had been tossed to the floor near the door. Followed by a cheap looking ring. Didn't even look real. Cheap bastard. She deserved better. Still no hat.

-l-

She had laughed. Glasses clinked together. A toast to the floozy and her stupid baby daddy. More laughter. He smelled good. His cologne was sexy. He was hot. He was sexy.

They deserved each other. A stupid bimbo and the guy who had given up the cream of the crop for a cheap thrill. His cologne was borrowed he hadn't a clue what it was. He would be sure to find out. He was glad she liked it. She was drop dead gorgeous.

He didn't mean that.

Oh yes he did.

He was messing with her.

He most certainly was not.

-l-

His hat had to be somewhere. He'd definitely been wearing it. There was the problem of going home shirtless. Well he'd done the walk of shame before, guess he'd do it again.

-l-

She'd been there too long. She needed to go.

Let him call a cab for her.

No need. She could fly… her head had been heavy on his chest.

He had carried her out. The taxi had been prompt. She'd pulled him in.

-l-

He had to find it. He had to find that damn hat. Leaving shirtless was one thing but hatless? Uh uh. Nope. Not in this century. Thank God. There was his hat. Thrown on the floor near a couch.

-l-

The couch had been their first stop. She'd ripped his hat off. Apparently she had always hated the damn thing because she couldn't play with his hair back when it was long and glorious. How dare he cut his hair before she'd finally had a chance to play with it!

He apologized. He'd had no idea. His college roommates were to blame- they had pinned him to chair and cut it all off. Truly a horror story. He apologized profusely.

Apology not accepted. It wasn't fair. He was going to grow it back out! And then let her play with it!

Of course he was. He would let his supervisor know safety codes were by no means important in the scheme of things when it came to letting a Powerpuff Girl play with his hair as she had ordered.

He was making fun of her.

Never.

Get out.

As you wish.

Stay.

Sure thing.

Kiss her.

Gladly.

-l-

His gaze crept back to the bed… and the numerous chairs and table that had been knocked over. around him Uh…okay so maybe not so immaculate after all.

-l-

His shirt hadn't stood a chance.

That damn dress had had buttons… always with the fucking buttons. Fuck he'd liked that dress too.

-l-

Time to go. She'd wake up in a wild rage. Screaming, yelling, ice breath and lasers everywhere. He'd have no choice but to fight back. Fire breath and his own lasers. Screaming… yelling…

-l-

They'd hit the wall. Female undergarments were annoying. She'd bitten him for taking too long.

She hated him by the way.

He was more than aware of that.

He was sexy. She wanted him so bad. Had since high school. Don't tell anyone she said that.

His lips were sealed. And the feeling was mutual on all counts.

I hate you.

Yeah well I hate you.

I hated you first.

Bullshit babe I was born to hate you.

-l-

She was out like a light still. That long slim arm thrown over her head and exposing that mysterious body art that Brick had...how had he never even noticed it before. Right...shoes...hat... remains of tattered shirt...pants... time...to go.

-l-

She'd thrown a lamp at his head. He'd ducked and covered.

He was an arrogant asshole who didn't deserve to be hot.

She was a prudish bitch who had no business having a body that fine.

Get out!

Fine by him!

She'd thrown him against the wall.

He'd pushed her on the bed.

I hate you.

I know.

I don't hate you.

I know that too.

-l-

He blinked. Well… well fuck. He had… had sex… really really good sex with his deliciously sexy and gorgeous worst enemy who he had wanted to get naked in bed for years, who was the reason all his exes had not been redheads because that would have been fucking weird and… well… shit now what did he do?

And seriously… what was the story with this tattoo… he needed to know. Now.

Which was completely the reason he was walking back to that bed.

Which was the only explanation as to why he slipped back under the covers.

She turned around, finally awakened from the movement- her icy pink eyes narrowed as they came face to face with his fiery crimson ones.

She wiped her face with a groan but slumped back into her pillow which also apparently now equaled his chest. Muttered something incomprehensible but it sounded pretty close to his name, good morning and something along the lines that she was going to kill him for this and she needed an aspirin. Her phone rang. She ignored it in favor of curling into his arm which had somehow found her waist and pulled her closer. It rang again. And...again. He growled. It never ceased.

Shouldn't you get that?

He can kiss my ass.

You agreed to marry him.

Don't remind me. I was dumb. You promised to set my dress on fire.

Did I now?

Yes. I'm holding you to it.

Sounds like a wild time.

Her phone had begun blinking- her face twisted before she chucked it at the wall after listening to a rather pathetic sounding message.

Seriously the asshole was crying. Show some self-respect. He still needed the story about that tattoo by the way.

Her head hurt. She'd had six missed calls from the asshole baby daddy and apparently he'd made a terrible mistake and he was coming to talk it out. Could Brick kindly answer the door if he followed through with his threat. And it was none of his business. College was a crazy time in every woman's life.

It would be his pleasure. but that wasn't enough he needed more info. He'd make it worth her while.

Oh her hero. Not at eight in the morning nursing a killer hangover he wouldn't. She still hated him by the way. She slid up over his chest.

He still hated her too. The guy was an idiot. He couldn't wait to punch him in the face for making her cry. His ran his hands down her back and through her hair.

She didn't cry she was a Powerpuff Girl. Yes he was an idiot. No punching allowed she had just installed new carpet. For a bastard he was oddly sweet. She was going to kiss him now.

He wasn't sweet. He was a Rowdyruff Boy. One couldn't be a bastard without biological parents by the way- best come up with a new insult. And not before he kissed her first.


I found a prompt. I liked it. At two in the morning. I wrote this in an hour. I should have been working on As Time Goes By. I instead wrote AU. I'm very sorry. Blame the plot bunny hutch being cheap and easily broken so they escape and I can't catch them all. I need a bigger net.

I might continue this. I don't know. Blossom's POV would be interesting. Perhaps she will make him breakfast. Perhaps she will fail at making breakfast and he will have to dig out the extinguisher. Perhaps they'll just yell and scream. I don't know. Perhaps I'll leave it up to your imaginations.

Thanks for reading my lovelies. Feel free to leave any thoughts on this... 2 am no dialogue experiment of mine.

Until next time.

~Carrie