Hola! Welcome to what I love to call, the Teen Toon Chronicles! Keep in mind that all characters are between the ages of 13-19, save for characters that serve the role of parents (i.e. Dexter's mom and dad, Professor Utonium, etc.).

DISCLAIMER: I own none of this.

Blossom shook her head in annoyance as her sisters, Bubbles and Buttercup, once again fell to her feet. "Girls! You need to get in the game! How are we supposed to protect the city when you guys can't even keep up with me? More intensity, Bubbles! Less control, Buttercup! I don't care if I'm your sister, just hit me!" She barked furiously. Buttercup panted, getting back up with a pained groan. "C'mon sis, we've been training for hours! I'm worn-out.." She whined, getting struck once again by the red-haired Powerpuff Girl. She picked herself up again, her face turning purple with anger.

"That's it! I've had it!" Buttercup shouted before lunging at Blossom, smashing her fist against her sister's jaw. Blossom was knocked back a few feet, but she stopped before she hit the back wall of their training room. "Now that's more like it!" Blossom grinned, dashing at her short-haired sister and sending a kick that would shatter bones into her stomach. Buttercup nearly upchucked, falling to her knees and gagging.

Blossom rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Bubbles, who took a step back in fear. "Ready, Bubbles? Cuz the ribbon's off now." She said, pulling the giant red ribbon she always wore out of her long orange hair. She threw it aside, and dashed at the youngest of the three girls, ready to strike. Bubbles parried her first punch with a block, and performed a spin-kick that sent her into the wall, stumbling back at the realization that she just hit her older sister. Blossom came back at her, grappling her and pinning her down. Before Blossom could bring her fist down to hit Bubbles, the blonde teen cut her off with a laser beam from her eyes and a punch so fast the air around it was on fire right into the red-head's chest.

Blossom went flying, slamming into the ground not far away. She gasped when she struck the ground, spitting a few drops of blood onto the floor. She coughed, getting up sluggishly, but was hit down by Bubbles once more. Blossom winced as her sister's fist made contact with her head, hitting the floor again hard enough to knock an average human unconscious. Her pained grimace turned into a fiery grin, however, as she spun and kicked Bubbles' feet out from under her. She once again crawled on top of Bubbles and hit her right in the jaw, determination burning in her purple eyes. She raised her fist again, ready to strike once more.

"GIRLS!"

Blossom froze, and looked toward the source of the shout. Standing in the door was was Professor Utonium, a scowl across his normally cheery face. "What have I told you about sparring like this! I've said a hundred times that one of you would take it too far and get the others hurt!" He said sternly, clearly peeved off. Blossom pouted and crawled off of Bubbles, helping the 17 year old to her feet. "I'm sorry, Professor.." She said, ashamed, as she went to Buttercup to help her. The green-eyed teen stood up uneasily, still dazed from the kick.

"Sorry for hurting you, Blossom." Bubbles whimpered to her red-haired sister as Blossom put her bow back in. "Sorry for hurting you too, Bubbles." She replied, looking glumly at Buttercup, who shrugged.

"Eh, nothing you need to apologize for." She chuckled, only to be met by a concerned glare. "I'm not hurt," She lied. "HIM hits waaay harder than you do."

Blossom smiled and pulled the two into a hug. "We should head to bed. You girls look exhausted." She yawned, leading the others out of the training room.

TIME SKIP (1 Hour)

Bubbles stood by the windowsill in the girls' bedroom in her light blue silk pajamas, watching the stars. She had seen them a million times, but only today had they begun to look so ominous. She and her sisters had fought dozens of aliens over the years, each one more bloodthirsty than the last, and yet the universe still threw monsters their way at an alarming rate. An uneasy feeling of apprehension plagued her thoughts, as if something of apocalyptic proportions was on the horizon.

A/N: Tell me what you think, folks. Even if you flame me, more is on the way.