What Is It?

Buttercup awoke to her alarm this time. She shut it off quickly but remained in bed for a few moments to let the fog clear.

Almost right away the thoughts started coming back, but she ignored them. Her habits left her little time to get ready for school and her mind was still a little fuzzy, so it was easy enough to keep occupied. Much easier to not think at all.

She threw on a black t-shirt and yesterday's jeans. She gave her hair a little more attention with the brush, ensuring the tangles were undone. She noticed her bare nails and made a mental note to put some polish on tonight.

Buttercup left her room as soon as she slipped on her backpack. This time she thundered down the stairs instead of taking flight and even stopped by the kitchen. The professor wasn't usually up to see his girls off, but Blossom was already there, finishing a bowl of cereal and eyeballing the newspaper. She glanced up at her sister. "On time today?"

"Uh huh," Buttercup replied, digging through the cupboards for something to eat on her leisurely flight to school. She grabbed a granola bar just as Bubbles spoke from behind.

"Morning. Toss me a breakfast bar?"

Buttercup complied, tossing Bubbles one of the soft bars with the fruit filling she'd asked for. Maybe Bubbles took more time to care for her appearance, but her breakfast habits were as bad as Buttercup's.

Buttercup ran her eyes down Bubbles. Over white hose she wore a shorter blue skirt today, just above the knees. Under a vest-like blue coat was a ruffled white shirt. She looked good, as always.

And so it kicked off. She didn't show it outwardly, but she was thinking about her unusual affection for her sister again. All the way to school, and for the first part of her class, her mind was somewhere else.

Just yesterday she'd determined to forget about it and get back to normal life. After Bubbles had sat beside her last night, though, she was forced to admit she didn't quite have a handle on things.

Bubbles was beautiful. She hadn't always thought that, but she did now. There was no denying that Buttercup was physically attracted to her sister, even to the point physical closeness couldn't help but stir certain feelings.

If that were all, it would be cut and dry. In her mind, Buttercup would be nothing but a sick freak with a problem to overcome. But that wasn't all.

Buttercup loved her sister and more strongly than she ever had. She trusted her, cared for her, and wanted to see her happy. If that were all it was, it would still be simple. Yesterday she'd convinced herself it was that simple, that it was just a powerful sisterly love. But that wasn't all of it either.

Did that matter? Taken separately, they were simple enough. Should she look at it any differently because she felt both of those things? Is that what love was?

Besides, were those things even connected? Could it be that the love was familial and the rest was, in a word, unrelated?

Buttercup hadn't enjoyed close contact with people. Bubbles had changed that for her (at least where Bubbles herself was concerned). After she'd gotten over the strangeness of it as well as the strangeness of her reaction to it, Buttercup had honestly enjoyed it. Not even in any intimate fashion. She simply enjoyed the hugs, sitting side-by-side, holding hands, letting Bubbles lay her head in her lap, and even Bubbles's quick kisses on the cheek. Buttercup herself had so far been unable to work up the nerve to give Bubbles even a friendly kiss like that.

Buttercup wondered if it was just that she'd never allowed anybody to get that close. Maybe she really was, as Bubbles would put it, the touchy-feely type. Maybe she just didn't know it.

How much of this was Bubbles making her feel that way and how much of it was that nobody else made her feel this way before? Just because no one else had, did that mean no one else would? Or could?

Bubbles was a girl. Buttercup hadn't thought of any other girls as attractive. Sure, she could tell whether another girl looked nice or not, but she'd never felt anything. Even now that wasn't any different. She didn't feel the same way towards the other girls at school, or to Blossom.

There was a question. Could Buttercup ever feel the same way to Blossom?

She didn't think so. Blossom was usually too cold, not to mention preoccupied. Bubbles was kind and warm and did a lot that brought out good things in Buttercup.

There she went again, she noticed. Making Bubbles out to be some untouchable angelic creature. An "Angel in Darkness" indeed. Maybe she and Mike had more in common than they realized. He'd loved Bubbles once. Maybe he still did. Buttercup would have to try talking to him sometime, if she could figure out a roundabout way to approach the subject.

Heck, maybe she'd fall in love with him and could just get over this weirdness with her sister. They already had one thing in common, after all.

As soon as she thought that, a part of her rebelled against the idea. She didn't want anyone else. She didn't want to lose Bubbles.

If that were true, why couldn't she just drop it? If Buttercup told Bubbles how she felt, she might not lose her but things would be different. Bubbles would probably still love her, but she'd become more uncomfortable. She'd love Buttercup, yes, but Buttercup imagined it would be more like pity, like Buttercup was somehow damaged.

Unless, maybe, Buttercup explained it right. Made it clear that she wasn't obsessed with the idea of them together. Perhaps Buttercup could play it down. Make a light conversation out of it somehow, and maybe see if Bubbles felt or could feel the same way. Let her know that Buttercup was happy with what they had.

No, no, no. That would be stupid.

Maybe instead she could ask Bubbles what she thought about love in general. She'd talk about that. Then if it seemed like there was a good opening, Buttercup could work in the idea of...

No, that didn't sound right either.

Maybe...

"Buttercup?"

She looked up. Her English teacher looked like she had been trying repeatedly to get Buttercup's attention.

"Buttercup, are you with us? Are you feeling all right this morning?" Mrs. Jones was one of the nicer teachers. Especially to her hometown heroines.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Just a little distracted."