THE MORAL COMMITTEE ::: CHAPTER TWO ::: HOME, WEIRD HOME !

It's late. Well— actually, it's only six o'clock pm, but that alone is far too late for the three sisters to be out and about on a school night. At least, in his mind it was. Perhaps he'd been too overprotective, they are teen girls, and they've got cellphones. And besides, Blossom has already called to inform him on their whereabouts once.

Three hours ago.

He's sitting on the living room sofa, chewing anxiously at the nubs of his nails and tapping his feet on the ground. Never in his days had he felt this in distress— not since the time Buttercup had broken her arm in the third grade one day, while they were all at the park and under his supervision.

Oh God.

What if something bad has happened to them? The thought of something terrible occurring and involving his little girls both terrified and paralyzed him. What if they wandered off with a group of boys?

I have to trust them, says the lonely professor, in his mind. He drops his hands to his knees, gripping them firmly while he tries to collectively organize the rampaging thoughts in his mind. His girls are way too good for just any boys. Blossom is far too smart to fall under the spell of any delinquent, Bubbles is entirely too kind and overall intelligent to succumb to just any teenage boy's charm. Buttercup is also very smart. Struggling a bit in a class or two, due to her just sheer uninterest in the lessons, but she's by far the strongest physically, and least likely to have anyone— boy, man, girl, woman, or beast— talk to her any kind of way. Nope, not Buttercup.

But teenage girls!

The professor tore at his short locks of thick salt and pepper mixed hair in inner agony.

Hormones, and peer pressure! What if...what if one of them isn't still untouched— but which one!?

Of course, he would never judge his girls in such a way that would mean demeaning them in any way, shape, or form. But still, the question remained, with only more following suit—

If one of the girls are sexually active...wouldn't that mean...I would have to put them on birth control!? Oh my God— what if they're all sexually active!? Oh God— how would I get them to tell me if they were? They're like a pact, any secrets they have or know about each other...they would never tell me! Would they!? Oh my God, I haven't even had "the talk" with them yet! They're full grown teenagers! Do they know what contraceptives are!?

Of course they know what contraceptives are! Leave it to the school system to teach them about safe sex...better them than they're father...right?

He released a low, grim groan, and buried his head between his knees to mutter softly, "I'm a failure as a father...I'm sorry honey..."

In the midst of his sorrow, the professor failed to catch the sound of the lock being activated, and the giddy laughter of his daughters as they entered their home. Blossom, who lead the trio inside, stood frozen behind the couch. Inquisitive on their father's state of emotional state, and perhaps, even the entirety of his mental being at this point. "Professor?" She finally announced her the girls' presence, and it became apparent that he was no longer alone in his wallowing.

He snapped his back erect, straight so that he'd sit high with his chest puffed out— a cover up for his inner grim, "Girls! You're back! I was starting to worry a bit!"

A bit meaning, more than the necessary amount.

"What's wrong? I called you and told you where we were, where we were headed," Blossom blinked curiously, "Bubbles even called you to tell you we were on our way home."

But alas, the man in all of his distraught had left his cellular device unnoticed on the pillow of his king size bed in the master bedroom several feet away. Had he heard it's vibration, he would've surely gone to see who it was trying to reach him. But...

"Jeez, Professor," Buttercup huffed in irritation. She entered further, dropping her black leather book bag covered in decorative pins of all sorts to the ground, and replacing her hand on her hip. "You gotta quit worryin' so much. You're gonna lose all your hair before it all gets the chance to turn gray."

"Yeah," Bubbles protested, "we're old enough now! We can take care of ourselves! Plus, there's three of us, and we all look out for each other, so..."

We all look out for each other. He remained frozen where he stood, staring lifelessly at the forms of his daughters before him. Standing together in order, from Blossom, to Bubbles, to Buttercup— he can imagine them when they were younger. And he remembers, they've always been this way. Nothing has changed. Not even to this day have they grown apart, or shifted even a tad, a bond that can never be broken— as precious as theirs, is one that he's never seen before.

Together they were unstoppable, unbeatable. Together, they were the Powerpuff girls.

Powerpuff girls. A smile would stretch upon his weary face whenever he'd think back to the days they'd called themselves that, as children. Perhaps they still do, but not in his presence? This thought too, made him smile. The hopeless and dreading man livened up, in realizing that he, singlehandedly, raised a set of perfect little girls into teenagers, perfect in his eyes.

What a damn good job.

Perhaps, he'd been staring. Perhaps the look on his face was baffling if not, humorous, for the reactions of his girls from looking straight back at him had varied from expressions of giddiness, to that of intrigue. "O—kay," Blossom hummed softly, she tightened her grip on the strap of her satchel and slowly, made a footing towards the stairs, "I'm...gonna go take a bath..."

"Oh, you little sneak—" Buttercup hissed. And suddenly, Blossom made a mad dash towards and up the stair case, with Buttercup chasing behind her and shouting, "You did that on purpose! C'mon Blossom, you always take forever in the bathroom—!"

"I'm tense from our little run today," Blossom blurted back in "cryptic code" to keep their father's curiosity at a low, "—and I've got tennis tomorrow! I need a relaxing bath!"

"Well— you're not the only one that ran today sister— and I've got cross country practice tomorrow! What makes you so special!?"

"I was born first," Blossom cried from around the corner, barely audible due to the distance she'd made between her and everyone else— except Buttercup who remained hot on her trail, in the pursuit of a relaxing bath. Bubbles remained on the bottom floor, a smile wrapped around her face, "Okay." She yawned softly, molding her palm to her mouth as she did, to hide her stretching face and distorted look.

"I'm going to my room," she said, "can I take a shower in your bathroom, Professor?"

"Don't you everyday?" He replied, and they both rippled in small laughter. Bubbles, removing her shoes on the first floor and taking them in her hand, finally followed suit behind her sisters up the stairs— slowly. She tucked inside the sanctuary of her bedroom, pushing the door halfway closed with her foot as she continued in a straight path for her bed—

"The bathroom is mine!" She heard Blossom scream, and the rampaging stampeding of two pairs of feet racing down the hall shortly afterwards. Exhausted, she flopped down to the plushness of her mattress and sank in it's comfort, releasing a long, heavy sigh. And she closed her eyes for a short time only, recollecting on today's events in slow motion, before she stood and collected her bath items— to sneak downstairs undetected.

XXX

Dear Diary—

Bubbles yawned, she breathed through her nostrils, lying flat on her abdomen in her bed and beneath her covers. Another night in a row, using her cellphone as her source of light to fill in, today's entry:

I feel so tired. Today was just awful! Buttercup, Blossom, and I all chased down those stupid boys today for smoking in the school. I mean, who does that!?

Anyway, we didn't catch them in the end, and I can't help but feel like it was all my fault for getting caught off guard like that...on another note, smoke really burns. My eyes were stinging like crazy after one of those idiots blew smoke in my face! And it even made my throat really scratchy and it was hard to breathe...it was just awful.

How do people even do that? I could never get into that.

Blossom is going crazy trying to figure out a way to get Boomer and his brothers expelled. Buttercup and I just really see no point to it, yeah they're jerks, and complete control freaks— and inconsiderate morons, but expulsion could really mess up a person's life. I don't like them, but I don't dislike them so much that I'd actually work to destroy their futures.

I just think they need a little bit of an attitude readjustment. Boomer is the only one that I can really see is actually trying to make good grades and come to class. To be honest, I really don't mind helping him with his homework! He's so quiet and shy when he's not around his brothers, I wonder if they're all like that when you get them alone.

Maybe I'll find out someday.

I think there's some good in those boys. Somewhere.

I don't trust Brick though. I might have to break his arms and legs if there was ever a time we'd be alone together. But you wanna know something?

I think Blossom totally has a crush on him.