A/N: This chapter took a little longer than planned due to some unforeseeable personal issues. But now things are back in working order, so hopefully the next one will come out a little faster (no promises though). Really let me know what you think about this chapter. I'm not as confident with it as the others because I'm straying further from the normal sorts of things I write. And super thanks to everyone who reviewed! It serves as great encouragement!

Buttercup Vs The New World Order

Chapter 3:

Vs Brick

There was a knocking at the little red door. Someone had already busted the lock, so it swung open as soon as the fist touched it. The large man stepped into the house, "Hello?" Gruff spoke, "Anyone home?" He walked further into the building, closing the door gently behind him. When he stood in living room he heard a creaking. A blue door opened slightly and a white arm poked out.

"I'm armed!" a voice yelled.

"I can see that, but I'm not dangerous," Gruff shouted back.

The door opened slightly more and the Professor stuck his head out. He saw Gruff standing peacefully, but almost fell backwards at the sheer size of the man.

"Don't be afraid," Gruff went, "I know I look scary but I'm not here to cause any trouble," he raised his hands up as though he were surrendering, "You are the Professor, correct? The one who created the Powerpuff girls?"

The Professor nodded slowly.

"Excellent!" Gruff clapped his hands together, "I met one of them; Buttercup to be exact. We were in a little scuffle together. That's why," he gestured to the bandages around his eye, "I'm looking less than my best."

"Where is Buttercup? Is she alright?" asked the Professor, his arm no longer pointed at the man.

"Well. That's actually why I came to see you," Gruff sat on the couch, "Do you mind if I sit?" He didn't wait for a response, "We were together, but she was hurt pretty bad, and these three boys flew off with her."

"The Rowdyruff boys!" the Professor yelled. There was panic in his voice and face. His breath became labored.

"Yes! I think it was them. I couldn't remember the name, it was driving me crazy!" Gruff clapped his hands again, "They took her, and I ways hoping you might have a way of tracking them down."

The Professor shuddered, "Do you know if she's still alive?"

"When I saw her last she was. I don't think the boys killed her. I mean, why take her away to do that? No. I'm sure she's still alive."

Miss Keane had heard most of the conversation, and had come up to see the man. Just like the Professor, she was also struck with how large the man was, "Are you a superhero too?" she asked gently.

Gruff looked whimsically to the ceiling, "I don't know if I'd go that far."

"But you're fighting against that man on the TV?"

Gruff's face became serious, "You won't find another man in this whole world who despises Captain Anarchy more than I do."

Relief washed over Miss Keane's face, "I'm so glad! I thought she might be alone out there!"

"So I take it that Blossom and Bubbles aren't around to help?" asked Gruff.

The Professor shook his head, "We haven't heard from either of them. Blossom might be in Africa somewhere, but we're not sure where Bubbles is."

"Africa, huh," Gruff nodded his head. He stood up to leave, "Thank you, but I think its high time I left."

'Wait!" Miss Keane ran up to Gruff, "Don't leave yet. You look hungry. Stay for dinner."

Gruff laughed slightly, "Well I suppose you could twist my arm into staying."

"Great!" She paused, "I'm sorry, but I don't think I caught your name."

"Oh my god!" Gruff almost screamed, a hand went up over his mouth, "I can' believe I was so rude!" his excitement died down slightly, "You can call me Greg."

# # #

There was noise before there was light. Buttercup's eyes remained closed, but she had woken up. In the same way that eyes must adjust to bright light after being in the dark, Buttercup's ears could not make out the noise she was hearing. It was too blurry. For a few seconds there was just darkness and meaningless noise. Buttercup wondered if she had died in the fight against Gruff, and if this was Hell.

She only heard noise, but she felt pain. Her face seemed too large. Buttercup wondered if her shoulder was still where she had left it. Her mouth shuddered open as a groan passed through. She wanted to raise her arm to feel her face, and she could even feel the electrical impulses shooting around her brain, telling her arm to do just that, but it never happened.

The noise around her finally began to turn into actual sounds. She didn't recognize it at first, but the tones grew heavier. Harder. The vocals sounded familiar.

"The murder in your eyes is just the will to stay alive!"

Yup. It was Anthrax. Not her favorite, but better than the repetition that came with pop music. She groaned again, louder this time. Buttercup's quest to open her eyes proved far more difficult than she imagined it would. It felt like her eyelids were pinned down with weights. Eventually the fight was won, and her eyes began creeping open. Like with the sounds, all the light that poured in was without shape or distinction. A blurry figure suddenly stood over her. She assumed it was a person.

"Are you waking up?"

What does it look like, jackass! Was what she wanted to shout out. Instead there was only a gurgling noise.

"Hang on," the voice said. Very gently, this person grabbed her right arm, and turned Buttercup onto her left shoulder. A thick string of blood fell from her mouth, pooling on the floor.

"I'll be right back."

The figure disappeared.

Buttercup's sight was slowly returning to normal. She could make out the white sheets she rested on, a small trail of blood leading off the left edge. There was a small table with an old heavy ghetto blaster sitting atop. That's where the music was coming from. Next to the table was a tired looking chair.

She began coughing. There was never a time in Buttercup's life where a cough felt threatening. But this current fit seemed like it may be her last. Blood shot out like buckshot from a shotgun, creating a red mist in the air before settling to the floor. She could feel something stuck in her throat somewhere. When it came up it felt like a piece of potato skin. It flew from her mouth with one last mighty hack, landing with the rest of the blood on the floor. A fat strip of coagulated red.

Buttercup fell onto her back again, a scarlet trail going down her cheek. The ceiling was wooden with a few lights hanging down. She figured she was in a basement somewhere. Steps were now approaching, definitely more than one person. She couldn't move her head enough to look for the door. Turned out that she didn't need to.

Three faces looked over her. All of them were familiar.

"Told you she was awake," said Butch.

Boomer held a small flashlight over her face. He moved it slowly left and right, "Not only is she awake," he said while putting the light away, "but she is almost fully conscious."

Buttercup tried to say something, but when she opened her mouth (which felt like it needed a vice to get moving) no sound came out.

"That guy really did a number on you," said Brick., "You've been sleeping for eight days."

Buttercup's vision began to shift left and right. The blurriness came back. She passed out again.

# # #

She knew she was dreaming, but that didn't stop it from being strange. She was in a bathtub with her sisters. There were bubbles everywhere, floating both atop the water and through the air. Buttercup thought it was odd as they hadn't bathed together since they were children. What struck her as more odd was the fact that the bathtub was floating in the middle of space.

"I know this is a dream, but I might as well ask; where are you guys?" asked Buttercup.

Bubbles suddenly flew out of the tub. Blossom raised a pointer finger to her lips and made a shushing noise.

"Figures," sighed Buttercup.

Her bathtub had become a mine-cart. She was still sitting in it, but Blossom was gone. The cart was being pushed by Brick, Butch and Boomer.

"Hey. Let me out of this thing!" said Buttercup. The boys didn't hear her, "Hey!"

They tipped the cart onto it's side, dumping Buttercup to the floor. Out of the cart also fell coal, but more coal came out then could ever possibly fit into such a small vehicle. Buttercup was trapped under thousands of black rocks. It began crushing her, she could feel the weight throughout her entire body. The coals fell over her eyes. Everything went dark.

That's when her eyes snapped open. Her vision hardly needed to adjust this time, but the pain she had felt in the dream had been real. Her whole body was still sore from the fight with Gruff. Buttercup brought her hand to her face. There were bandages. She began pulling on them when a voice was heard.

"Probably not the best idea just yet," it said.

Buttercup stopped and turned towards the voice. Looking back was Butch. His face had no discernible emotion to it.

Buttercup opened her mouth. The sound that came out was like a door that hadn't been opened in years. It creaked slowly, but words eventually came, "Why . . ." that was all she could manage for the moment.

"you're still not a hundred percent," said Butch, "You should save your strength."

The words did not come out insulting, but Buttercup was offended by them. Save it for what?! Her mind yelled. Her body began to pull itself up onto her elbows. It was a shaky ascent. She groaned from the effort it took to move even that paltry distance. She got it so her back was resting against the wall, "Why," she began again, "did you save me?"

Butch sighed, "I really don't know. It was Brick's decision."

"Where are we?" she asked next.

"In the broad sense; we're in Ireland. 'Fraid I can't be more specific than that. Don't know what province, or town, or whatever." Butch looked at her. His face was still without emotion, but something in his eyes was off. Buttercup couldn't quite figure out what it was. She almost thought that he was concerned for her, but he didn't look like he wanted her to get better. "Do you remember anything?" he asked.

Flashes of her last fight ran across Buttercup's mind. She won, right? There was something else, too.

"I remember hearing Anthrax," she said.

Butch nodded, "You woke up for a little bit yesterday. Before that you were asleep for over a week."

She recalled in brief snips of memory the conversation with the Rowdyruff Boys from yesterday, but still she was surprised, "That long? Didn't ever think that could happen."

Boomer walked into the room, "I thought I heard something,"he went besides Buttercup, "Lay back down."

Buttercup didn't move.

"Alrighty," Boomer grabbed her shoulders and pushed Buttercup back down into a laying position. She let out a small gasp, "You're fine," Boomer said, "Now you know to listen." Buttercup had a harsh look in her eyes, "I'm only trying to help you get better."

Boomer had the most carefree face Buttercup had ever seen in an adult. He was fully grown, but still had an almost childish look to him without looking any younger than he was. He held her eyelids open as wide as they would go, looking deep into each eye one at a time. His fingers gently pressed against her wrist.

Boomer nodded his head, "You'll probably make a full recovery in a few more days, but you're going to be stuck in bed until then." he began to walk towards the door. As he left, Buttercup began to move again. Once more she brought herself up and leaned against the wall. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. She was now sitting up without any support. Boomer looked back at her before leaving, "Or don't listen to me. What do I know?" He was gone.

Buttercup's face was still turned towards the door when Butch said, "You should probably listen to him. He's usually right about these sorts of things."

Buttercup wanted to turn her head suddenly and fiercely, but moving was still painful, so it was a very slow turn, very deliberate. When Butch saw it he was reminded of the sort of look Bruce Lee would give when turning towards his enemy. It sent a single shiver up his back. It was her eyes. They weren't angry, or hate filled, or anything like that. In fact, Butch couldn't figure out exactly which emotion he saw in those eyes. The only description that seemed to make sense to him was "Infinity."

When she spoke her eyes were normal again, "Like I'd take medical advice from some toilet bred delinquent," she used her hands to slowly lower her feet to the ground. Once there she tried putting her weight on them. She feel over. Butch was able to catch her before she hit the ground, "Don't touch me!" she screamed as loud as she could in her current state.

Butch let go, and Buttercup fell to the ground, "If that's how you wanna treat people trying to help, then fine! You're on your own!" He left, slamming the door to the room shut behind him.

Buttercup was folded over herself on the floor. She was surprised at how comfortable it felt.

What can you do from down there?

"Not much," she whispered through clenched teeth, then she began to push herself up.

She got to her knees before falling again. She pulled herself over to the wall and climbed up the side. Her knees were still shaking, but she was standing. Her eyes were tight, tears rolled thinly down her cheeks. Then, seemingly without warning, her eyes blew open, revealing jade orbs, cracked with red lines.

"Aha!" she screamed, "Who's hurt? Not me! I'm ready for another ten rounds!" The door opened back up. Buttercup's back was towards it, and she couldn't really turn to see without risking falling, "Screw you, Boomer! You too, Butch!"

"I'll give you one more guess," said the person standing behind her. His voice was not so much harsh as it simply was without gentleness.

"Brick! You still sound like an arrogant douche!" The shaking of her legs was growing worse the longer she stood up. Buttercup's body wanted to collapse, but she refused to let that happen while Brick stood watching.

He laughed slightly, "Maybe I still am an arrogant douche." Buttercup could hear his footsteps getting closer to her. He stood right behind her, less than two feet away, "You should be resting."

"I'm doing just fine," Buttercup's eyes shut again from the throbbing pain all over her body.

Gently Brick put his hands on her shoulders. Buttercup was surprised, and the subtlety of the touch made her blush slightly, "Sto–"

His hands went tight. Her right shoulder exploded with pain. She let out a sharp cry. He tossed her back over to the bed. It was knocked away and Buttercup fell to the ground again. Now she could see Brick. He was tall, taller than his brothers; maybe six and a half feet. His eyes burned. He was bald; it served to draw more attention to his crimson eyes.

"I didn't save you so we could all become friends, Buttercup," he said, "And I will throw you back where I found you if the mood strikes me."

Go ahead! I'm ready for it!

She held onto that right shouldered, "Why did you save me?"

Brick walked over and grabbed a fistful of Buttercup's hair, the bandages around her face were loosened. He lifted her up, the pain in Buttercup's shoulder made the tug on her hair seemed less intense. Her feet were off the ground when Brick said, "I felt like it, but my opinions have been known to change randomly and severely."

Buttercup punched him in the chest, but she hadn't the strength to even move him. She was dropped back onto the bed.

Buttercup began coughing. By the time she stopped, Brick was gone.

# # #

It was a slow few days for Buttercup. She had stayed in bed for most of that time. She hadn't seen Brick since their last encounter. Boomer came in and out periodically, checking on her and helping her get back on her feet with his own sort of home brew physical therapy. Butch spent much of his time in the room with her, his old CD player always pumping out heavy sounds. Boomer had taken the bandages off her face two days prior. The swelling had almost fully gone away, and the black eyes were now a faded purple. There were still a few stitches keeping her lower lip in one piece. Her nose had healed, but now was permanently, though only slightly, crooked to the right.

She was walking around the room. Butch was nodding his head to the music. The boys hadn't let Buttercup out of the room; she was going stir crazy. She stretched her right arm out in front of her, flexing it a bit. She could move it, but kept it in a sling most of the time.

"I need to get out of here, Butch," the boy acted like he didn't hear anything, "I need to to find my sisters." She was pacing the room.

"We wait for Brick to say we move, then we move," Butch said plainly without looking at the girl.

"I'm getting sick of your music, too."

This made Butch look up suddenly, "I suppose you'd prefer some factory churned pop music?"

Buttercup laughed out loud, "I wasn't knocked around that much!"

Butch tried his best to hold it back but a laugh still came out, "So what would you like to listen to?"

"You got The Beatles?"

"I do not. I do have Mastodon, the Beatles of Metal," Butch said proudly.

Buttercup looked shocked, "How does a person say they like music and not have the Beatles?! They are Rock'n Roll!"

"They're okay, I guess," said Butch with a shrug, "But Rock'n Roll wasn't really perfected until Motorhead came along and changed the definition of heavy."

"Now I definitely have to leave. You keep talking crazy," Buttercup went to the door. It opened before she put her hand on the knob. In walked Boomer holding a large plastic bag.

"Hey there, Butters! How're you feeling?" he said upon entering.

In response, Buttercup slugged him across the arm.

Boomer rubbed the new sore spot, "You've gotta stop doing that! It was cute before, when you weren't even strong enough to lift a fork, but now it hurts!"

"Then you've gotta stop calling me Butters!"

"I find that arrangement to be unacceptable, Butters," Boomer ducked under Buttercup's swinging arm and stepped behind her. "Put a pin in that anger; I come with gifts!" He opened the bag and pulled out a lime green t-shirt, "Cotton," he said, "the fabric of our lives."

Buttercup snatched the bag away from the blue (though not glum) boy. She did a quick rifling through its contents, "Green," she said going through it, "Green. Green. Green!" she looked up at Boomer, "Why is everything in here green?!"

"I thought it was your favorite color?" Boomer said innocently, "And Butch told me he likes it when you wear green."

"I didn't say that!"

Buttercup was unaffected, "I like green, but I also like variety."

"There are various different shades in there," said Boomer with extreme candor, "You'd think anything would be better than continuing to wear mine and Butch's leftovers."

Its true, Buttercup was indeed wearing one of Butch's shirts, black, way too big, and she had on a pair of Boomer's jeans, held up with a homemade cord belt. Buttercup's claim that everything in the bag was green was an exaggeration, though. Most of it was green, but a lot of it was black as well. She pulled out a dark pair of jeans then looked through some more, "you got me one bra and a dozens thongs. Great work." she threw out a very forced thumbs-up.

"Underwear has always been optional here," Boomer tried to say it as though it were a magician's slight of hand.

"Yeah yeah yeah," Buttercup said quickly, "Get out. I'm changing." Boomer complied, blowing a kiss before leaving. Butch lingered, "You too, Butch."

Butch went towards the door, "You know I didn't ever say that, right?"

"Right."

Butch left the room. A second later his head popped back in, "But you do look good in green." He was gone.

Duh. She thought.

# # #

For the first time in over a week, Buttercup was dressed in her own clothes. It was nice to wear something that actually fit. She left the room to find the boys. She was surprised that the room connected to the one she was in was actually quite nice. She was expecting it to be a dilapidated pile of crap. All three boys were in the room, Brick in the center with his brothers on either side. It looked like they were waiting for her.

She blew out a high pitched whistle, "So that's why you guys were keeping me sequestered. You didn't want me to see that this place was actually nice."

"No. We kept you in that room so you could get better." It had come from Brick. Like before he did not look angry or mean, he just didn't look kind. "How's the shoulder?" he asked without compassion.

"Feels like there's a huge hole through the middle," said Buttercup while rolling the joint in question, "Its in good enough condition to kick your ass, though, if that's why you're asking."

Brick began to walk towards her.

Boomer didn't hesitate to step in front of his older brother. He put a hand on Brick's chest, "Whoa whoa, let's step back a moment. She's not fully recovered yet. We didn't save her just to beat her up again, did we?"

Brick roughly shoved Boomer aside and stepped up to Buttercup. He was a good ten inches taller than she, but their faces were close.

"Is that what you want, Buttercup? A fight?" he said very simply.

"Yeah," she said, her body remaining fixed where it was, her right hand pulling the sling off her body,"I think I owe you a bit from before."

Neither of the two looked angry, but the air was tense. Boomer stepped away, throwing his hands up in the air as if to say, "I tried my best!" Even Butch stepped back a little bit. He was unsure of what he should be feeling right now.

"When was the last time we fought?" asked Brick.

"When we were kids," Buttercup answered.

"Our families fought each other then. I don't think I ever gave you my undivided attention."

Buttercup smiled, "Same here."

Brick backed away, "I'll see you outside," then he left through a door behind him. Buttercup began walking the same way.

"I wouldn't," said Boomer very suddenly, "You're still hurt, and Brick . . ." he struggled to find the correct words. Eventually he just gave up, "Don't fight Brick."

Buttercup pushed past him without saying anything. Boomer and Butch looked at each other, then ran out too.

It was almost cold outside. The temperature hovered around 70 degrees Fahrenheit, but standing in the sun was incredibly comfortable, especially when you've been trapped inside for so long. She stared out across the green hills, fissures of gray rock bursting through along the way. Ireland, she thought, what a way to be introduced to a country. She breathed in the air, it tasted fresh. They must have been miles away from the nearest city. From the looks of things, they were pretty damn far from all forms of civilization.

Buttercup looked back at the house she walked out of. "House" was a very complimentary way of describing its outside appearance, the door was built directly into the ground. How did the boys find a place like this? She wondered. It blended almost perfectly into the surroundings; it would be almost impossible to find by eye alone.

Brick was standing a ways off, staring at Buttercup with his intense eyes. She gently raised herself into the air and floated towards him. Butch and Boomer ran out to watch whatever would happen next.

Brick brought himself up so that he was flying at the same hight as Buttercup. Storm clouds were gathering in the sky.

"Have you ever read Paradise Lost?" Brick asked.

Buttercup hesitantly shook her head. She was put off byhow out of place the question was, and thought that it might be some sort of bizarre trick.

"After being banished to Hell," he began, "One of the fallen angels says, 'we never would have challenged God if we knew the true extent of his power.'"

Buttercup had nothing to say.

A distant blast of thunder sounded. The two began.

From a distance it only looked like a red and green light repeatedly crashing into one another, But Butch and Boomer could see each punch and every kick. The sounds of their strikes echoed, and made it seem like the storm was already fully upon them.

Butch asked Boomer without taking his eyes off the battle, "Do you think he's gonna kill her?"

"It doesn't really matter what I think," he answered, "I know we can't stop him if he is."

The idea of trying to stop Brick from doing anything seemed ludicrous to Butch. Such thoughts had never formed in his mind before. And then it hit him. That idea that had been living in his subconscious for so long now; the one that he had never dared put words to. A feeling that Boomer would more readily admit, but Butch had felt just as long.

Brick horrified him.

And there was nothing he could ever do to escape that.

The fight had only been going on for five minutes, but Buttercup could already feel the strain on her shoulder. If she wanted to win this fight she would have to do it quickly.

They were about to clash once more. As he came rushing at her, Buttercup twisted her body with his momentum, pushing all his force past her, putting his back to her. She pulled her right arm around his neck, her left elbow collided with his skull. A repeated attempt was blocked.

Then something strange happened. Buttercup could feel something pulling her away from Brick. At first she thought it was one of his brothers interrupting their battle. When she turned her head there was no one there. She didn't know what was going on, but it was getting stronger. Brick dropped his own elbow into her gut, just enough to get her to loosen her grip. The same feeling that was pulling on her suddenly climaxed, and she was flung from his body.

Buttercup bounced off the ground like a ball. She caught herself in the air before crashing again. From a distance she could see a soft red light pushing away from Brick's body. He took in a deep breath, and the light seemed to follow the air into his lungs. He turned fully towards her. His eyes were glowing ever so slightly. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Brick's arm pointed to her, two fingers extended outwards. A red energy began flowing around him. It folded in on itself over his outstretched arm. It took the form of sharp fire.

Hephaestus himself could not have hammered out better lightning than what shot from Brick's fingers. It blinked across the gulf between the two combatants. No thunder followed its trail. Buttercup knew she couldn't dodge, it made normal lightning look sluggish, but still she had time to think.

No. That's not quite true. She wasn't really thinking, thoughts were just swirling around her brain. It was almost like she was remembering something. Not an event, but a feeling, or an idea. Something that wasn't fully created the first time she felt it. It was the same feeling she had during the fight with Gruff.

She could see the answer. The lightning was no longer a threat. Her hands stretched forward, palms out, fingers splayed. The instant she was stuck she felt a change within her body. The light surged into her like a bleed wound in reverse. Brick had breathed in that energy from before, but Buttercup had consumed his lightning. It filled her entirely. She could feel it flowing with her blood, charging her muscles. It was heavy. She was forced to touch back on the ground. It was heavy, but it was hers now.

Brick stared. Buttercup couldn't see it, but his brothers could. It was the first time they had seen Brick look at something with awe in his eyes.

Buttercup's arms spread wide. They came back together in a cacophonous clap that bled a chaotic green light. It cracked the sky with raw power. A thunder like the voice of God blasted as the air became super heated in a flash. Brick was able to raise his arms in defense, but was still shot off back by the force. His feet traced the ground as he skidded to a halt, still standing upright. Before his arms dropped back down to counterattack, Buttercup was behind him. She kicked across his spine, bending him backwards slightly.

Her legs bent, one hand touched the ground. Buttercup burst from the Earth with enough force to carry Brick with her. He floated with his chest exposed to her. The green Powerpuff raised both hands heavenwards, clenched them into a single tight ball, and came down on Brick like pissed off gravity. For Buttercup it was cathartic. For Brick it was painful.

His landing caused a small explosion of dirt. Buttercup didn't waste time waiting for him to get up. She slammed her knees on his shoulders, pinning him to the ditch he had created.

"You were talkin' pretty cocky back there. You must feel silly now that I've got you beat?" Buttercup said.

Brick was pinned, but still had limited movement in his arms. He was able to fold his hands under his head all casual like with Buttercup still on him, "You can't beat someone who isn't fighting."

Buttercup's heart was working overtime to keep her body fueled. That comment made it pump harder, "I can't defeat someone who isn't fighting back, but I can sure as shit beat them!" Her right fist was raised above his head.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Do it! Kill him! He deserves it! Do it! KILL HIM!

Blood was rushing through her veins fast enough for her to feel it. Her skull pulsed. Her thighs and arms seemed heavier. At the same time, though, she felt stronger. Stronger than ever before. Some of that power Brick had fired at her remained. It was inside, threatening to corrupt. Her lips quivered; she wasn't sure why.

Brick moved his arms. He was able to delicately take hold of one of her hands. He laid it round his throat, "I want you–" he said.

DoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitDO IT!

"–to do it!" his voice was very low, but held in it all the intensity of a shout.

Her temperature seemed high. Buttercup held her hand around Brick's neck, her fingers lightly squeezed. Her breathe became heavy despite the fact that she didn't need to breath, "Why'd you save me, Brick? . . . What do you want from me?"

His hands moved, settling on the upper reaches of her thighs, the tips of his fingers pressed lightly on the inner part where thigh met hip, it was reminiscent of when he grabbed her shoulders, "I don't want anything from you."

Her body was hot. She was beginning to sweat. What was he saying? Did the answer even matter? The fight with Brick had got her blood boiling. Being kept in a single room for so long had made her angry. The fight with Gruff had made her feel weak, but now . . . now she felt like a whole new person. Someone better than Buttercup of the Powerpuff Girls. Something greater.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked again.

What are you waiting for?

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his.

At a distance, still waiting at the entrance to their little home, Boomer and Butch saw what was happening.

"Aye aye aye," said Boomer sadly, "how can we be the Three Caballerosfor Halloween this year with a girl hanging around?" Boomer had wanted the words to come out sarcastically, comically, but they only sounded sad. He looked at Butch. Butch seemed confused, he knew what he saw, of course, but he was having trouble understanding why it was happening. Boomer clapped his brother on the back, "Come on, bro. Let's leave 'em alone." The two boys retreated back into the house just as rain started to fall.

The thunderstorm was fully upon them. Brick and Buttercup, embracing, rose into the sky. Into the storm.

A/N: Like I said, straying from what I normally do. Hopefully you guys still find it enjoyable. I wanted to portray the Rowdyruff Boys differently in this than you would see them in most other fics while still making it feel like the Rowdyruff Boys we all know. Let me know what you think. I'll try to answer any questions anyone might have, and comments are always appreciated.