A/N: (17 JUL 2018) Hi guys! First of all, thanks for reading! As this is becoming a massive project that is more 'series' than novel, it would be great if I can get some reviews and feedback concerning... Anything really. The direction, overall tone and motif, character, etc. Let me know how this fanfic is doing, and if you have any suggestions, tell me about it.

Chapter 22: Governor

The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.

7 DEC 1988. 0924.

"You may speak freely. We've secured this line against outside intrusion."

"Yes sir, Utonium is severely compromised," Agent Blake said into the phone of the comms device, which the communications officer of the PTF had loaned to him.

"How bad?" the voice on the other end asked. A gravelly voice that wouldn't be out of place in a mass grave.

"The medic had a look at him. High fever, possibly caused by severe dehydration, weight loss, possibly caused by malnutrition. He appears to be having the beginnings of some sort of flu. The medic reported liquid congestion in his airway. The high fever could also be the result of some disease." Agent Blake reported.

"Can you be more specific with the diagnosis?" the disembodied voice asked.

"No, sir. Our medic's good for only first aid. We need a real doctor," Agent Blake said. "And the only one in The House is the patient."

"I'll send someone over. Has your medic done anything to treat Agent Utonium?" the voice on the other end inquired. "He's a critical asset even if he's stubborn and too idealistic for his own good."

The airlock doors of the lab had just opened the moment the man on the other end of the line had asked that question. Corporal Zach and another PTF soldier was just carrying Professor Utonium by the arms over their shoulders. They were shuttling him out of the airlock, then across the living room. He was half-naked and completely wet. He was also completely out of it, mumbling incoherently in his time in the void.

Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup were seated on the sofa, guarded by most of the security force mustered at The House. Three PTF soldiers, ominously black with their bodies crowded with equipment, deadly or accessories to murder, stood guard in front of them. The two single-seaters on either side of the Girls' sofa was occupied by suits, one of them with a shotgun. The rest of the plainclothes were in the kitchen. Only the K-9 handler and one security officer was outside, guarding the main entrance to the house.

The Girls were gazing at the professor with great sadness and worry in their eyes. Bubbles, for want of comfort, lied down in Blossom's lap, and Blossom held her. Buttercup folded her arms, seemingly stoic, frowning at the adults in black standing before her. Agent Blake studied them with interest, noting that they each had grown and developed their own personalities remarkably quickly.

"Yes sir, the medic has given Utonium a shower at the decontamination shower in the lab to bring his temperature down. He's going to hook him up on IV to rehydrate him that way," Agent Blake reported, while still keeping an eye on the Girls. He had kept his voice down - he wasn't sure how much they could understand his chatter, and he didn't want to agitate them any further.

"Good. I'll keep you posted on the 'real doctor', but I'll likely send over a full medical team to assist," the gravelly voice on the other end promised. Agent Blake listened but continued to observe the Girls. 'Are they wearing the same dress as yesterday?' he realized, and managed to put two and two together. With the professor incapacitated, B-47, B-48 and B-49 will no longer have a dedicated caretaker to cater to their every need. To his security-trained mind, it meant that there would no longer be someone there to pacify them, which meant that they might go out of control, possibly resulting in a Meltdown and thus Tantrum event, resulting in a Run Away and casualties, likely catastrophic. "Is there anything else?"

"Sir," Agent Blake's mind raced as he tried to figure out how to phrase his concern. His voice took on an alarmed tone that he could not help. It was like standing in front of a nuclear bomb counting down from a few minutes. "I insist that you send in a replacement for Agent Utonium immediately. They look like they've been neglected since yesterday, and if this goes on long enough, there could be consequences."

"Oh," the voice on the other end sounded just as concerned. "Well, we hadn't thought of a replacement for him. I'll escalate this to the Head of Psychiatry and Social Services, Alice. She'll know what to do. Knowing how things go, it'd be a few days before we can send someone down. She's always meticulous about matters concerning welfare."

"That's good to hear, but sir," Agent Blake said. His throat had become dry. "What about now? What about the few days while we wait on the ETA of the new caretaker?"

"I'm afraid you're it, officer," the gravelly voice on the other end said gravely. Then, nothing more. It was like getting hit by a truck.

Agent Blake turned his head to regard B-47, B-48 and B-49 once more. Blossom had taken to staring at him blankly with Bubbles in her lap, who had gone back to crying. Buttercup looked like an outright brat at this point, but she wasn't just any brat – she's one with thousands of pounds of firepower at her fingertips – and she looked like she was in a terrible mood, probably because she had nothing to eat or drink for two hours ever since waking up. She gave him a scowl with her arms folded when their eyes met. Agent Blake broke eye contact right away.

"Sir, I'm begging you. Send someone immediately, please!" Agent Blake pleaded. "You can't do this to me!"

"Actually, I can. Says here on my vest that I'm the Chief of Security. Sorry, Agent Blake," the voice said dispassionately. "You have your orders. Just hold out for a few days until we sort this out. Keep your fingers crossed for Agent Utonium. Maybe he'd be all better in a couple of days. Maybe."

"Sir, I'm a soldier and a security officer. I'm trained to deal with enemy combatants and criminals and-" Agent Blake was on full-on panic mode. "Look, I'm not qualified to deal with children, especially… Them."

"What, you can't beat a geek?" his contact, who was actually Chief of Security Blackwater, mocked. "Just do as you're told, Agent Blake. You've got two squads of personnel with you where Agent Utonium was alone. Over and out."

"Sir, wait! Please!" Agent Blake tried to get his contact back, but he was already gone. "Shit." There was a lot of thumping on the stairs to the second floor. They had just managed to get the professor up to the second floor and into his bedroom.

He turned to look at his new responsibilities - Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup, as they were named. He tried smiling at them, but they didn't smile back - probably because they were utterly miserable. Failing that, Agent Blake did not even know where to start. Walking up to them, he sat down on the coffee table, in front of them. They stared at each other silently for a few seconds. The soldiers and officers around him stiffened up, always ready, always worried that the shit would hit the fan.

"So, how are the three of you doing?" Blake opened up, but immediately regretted his opening line.

"I'm worried, really worried, Mr. Blake. What if Daddy dies?" Blossom said grimly, immediately calling to attention her grasp of concepts that a five-year-old should know… Except that she was little more than a two-week-old.

"I don't want to do anything until Daddy gets better," Bubbles, who was still lying on Blossom's lap, sulked.

"Are you going to do something to Dad?" Buttercup said. Agent Blake couldn't decide if it was an accusation or a simple question as to how they were going to help.

"Your father will be fine. He's in the care of Corporal Zach-" Agent Blake explained, but was cut off by Bubbles.

"I don't like him," she had said. To Agent Blake, it was a red flag, like a worm infestation ready to burst out of a gangrenous wound. He had to fix it, but how? How does one speak to a child without getting her all worked up? He had literally zero experience with such things.

"He may be gruff, but his heart is in the right place," Agent Blake explained, then decided that they might not understand. "He cares, just that he doesn't show it. Like you, Buttercup."

Buttercup's brows were arched, her arms still crossed.

"Hmph! No I'm not! I'm nothing like Zach! I just want Daddy!" Buttercup said, proving his point thoroughly. The raven-haired, green-eyed girl's mannerisms was always putting the entire room on edge. 'Need to pacify them…' Agent Blake was always thinking. However, in the back of his mind, something else was motivating him. Before, he had always told himself that these three 'girls' were merely soul-less creatures. Now, they seemed so alive, so full of spirit. So human. So much like three little girls.

"What if I promise you that you'll get your father back? It's just going to take some time," Agent Blake offered.

"Promise?" Blossom said, not quite convinced.

"Promise," Agent Blake reaffirmed his vow.

"But how long will it take?" Bubbles and Buttercup said in unison, but Buttercup stared at her emotional sister after that, hating the idea of being lumped together with the weakling.

"Oh I don't know… A few days, maybe?" Agent Blake guessed honestly. He'd come to regret his decision on it again.

"But… what are we going to do?" Bubbles cried, tears spilling out again. "I can't wait a few days…"

"The three of you will have to keep going without him in the meantime," Agent Blake told them, unsure what the effects of his words would be. He simply had no clue - having very little experience with children. "Wouldn't that be what he wants?"

"But… Daddy helps us with everything… H-he teaches us something everyday, helps us with brushing our teeth and bathing and… everything…" Blossom said, sadness clearly seeping into her words from an unending source.

"Well, I've got some news," Agent Blake said, unsure if what he was going to say next would make things better or worse. When it came to matters of security, he could always predict with a reasonable margin of error what was going to happen next. But with this… "I'm going to have to take care of the three of you in the meantime. I'm your-" Agent Blake brainstormed for the right word. He was about to say that he was their new Dad, but thought better of it. Babysitter? No, that would be too demeaning for himself and them. Caretaker? No, that might blow his cover. "erm… governor now."

"Gover-what?" Buttercup exclaimed, confused. It was clearly a word they had never encountered before.

"Go-Ver-Nor," Agent Blake explained, at the same time wondering if he had made a mistake with his word choice, but he didn't let it show. "I'm now your governor. It means that I'll be taking care of you until your father's strong enough to go back to being your father."

Behind Agent Blake, his subordinates were all exchanging either confused or amused looks. He knew how it sounded. It was just a few letters short of calling himself a 'governess', and he didn't quite staying true to the definition of the word, but it would have to do.

"But…" Bubbles wanted to object, but kept quiet in the end. Things had taken a turn for the unexpected such that it managed to get her off Blossom's lap.

"Okay…" Blossom relented. "What do we do now?"

"First thing's first…" Agent Blake raked his brain for answers, unsure of the exact needs and wants of a child. He inevitably went back to his training as a soldier and security officer, and found the answers there. The basic needs of a soldier were essentially the same. Soldiers march on their stomachs, as Napoleon would say. Similarly, they would need water, lots of it, especially on the march and in the modern age, on complex operations. So… water and rations. "Have the three of you had your rations- I mean, breakfast?"

"No…" Blossom answered shyly.

"We've been starving since forever because Dad was sick!" Buttercup complained impatiently.

"Okay, great! I mean, then we'll solve that problem right away, and-" Agent Blake said excitedly, thinking that he had made progress, only to feel a roadblock not even a yard before him. The problem was… He hardly knew how to cook for himself, much less cater to the demanding taste buds of children. Again, he fell back to his military and security theory for answers. In the event of an emergency, an unsolvable crisis, what should one do? Consult command. Assign the right specialists to the right tasks. "Say, when was the last time the three of you took a bath?"

"Oh… Yesterday?" Bubbles answered, sounding as if she was answering a trick question.

"Yesterday afternoon…" Blossom corrected. "We stink."

"Who cares about a bath anyway?" Buttercup countered, and received only stares from both Blossom and Bubbles as though she was crazy.

"Then that's settled," Agent Blake the governor said, a triumphant smile on his face. The puzzle pieces were all clicking in the right place. "How about the three of you go to your room and pick up some fresh underwear and dresses? I'll be up with you in a minute - I just need to speak to my… friends."

"But what about breakfast!?" Buttercup complained again.

"After a bath, Buttercup," Agent Blake insisted firmly, at the same time with his heart racing. He knew that there was risk involved whenever he tried to put his foot firmly down.

"Yes, Mr. Blake," Blossom said obediently before hopping off the sofa, if still very much down. Bubbles followed, then Buttercup, once she realised again that she would be alone with a large group of strangers around her.

When they were out of earshot, Agent Blake called for a briefing in the living room, with all six PTF soldiers and seven of his officers attending.

"Sir, what's with this 'governor' business?" one of the soldiers asked.

"Chief of Security Blackwater has appointed me to take care of the girls temporarily," Agent Blake explained. "Look, we don't have time to waste. We need to decide on things immediately. What's the status of Agent Utonium?"

"He's still out of it, and I don't think anything's going to change for a while even with the meds I've been giving him. His fever needs to go down more before we can talk about lucidity," Corporal Zach reported.

"ETA on his recovery?" Agent Blake asked, hoping.

"Hard to say. Could be a couple of days or more, but if it's something to do with Chemical X, then I wouldn't know. Maybe even never," the medic said. It wasn't what Agent Blake wanted to hear. "We'll need a doctor to be sure."

"Fine. We'll need to change our operational parameters. I'm going to be stuck in The House, taking care of the girls-" Agent Blake went on, but was interrupted.

"Why are you calling them 'girls' all of a sudden?" one of the PTF soldiers asked.

"They just are, alright? I don't have time to discuss semantics with you. Now, operational parameters. I can't do this alone, so I might need a couple of you around. That means a few of us in the house. That, too, means we're going to be exposed. We'll need backup in the Play Area to guard us. I'm thinking we should all just shift our operations into The House entirely," Agent Blake said. "Objections?"

Silence.

"Good. We'll use the living room as our command centre and camp site. First order of business… Breakfast for the girls. Who here knows how to cook? And I don't mean shit like microwave food that's probably going to get us all killed if the girls hate it too much. I'm talking proper breakfasts. Well, anyone?"

Silence.

"Are you serious, sir?" his partner, Agent Fields, questioned.

"Yes, I'm God-damn serious. Pancakes or waffles or whatever - anyone?" Agent Blake was almost pleading. If no one knew how to turn a freaking pancake on a pan, he swore he was going to have a fit.

"Yeah… I'll do it," one of the PTF soldiers put up his free hand, volunteering. For some reason, Agent Blake thought the soldier looked ridiculous, the way he did it - a grown man, a big man in black tactical gear, putting up his hand shyly like a grade school kid. "Used to help in my pop's diner. I cooked lots of breakfast in my time."

"Any idea what you're going to make?" Agent Blake asked.

"This is ridiculous," another of the agents commented.

"Shut the fuck up! The breakfast could be a matter of life and death!" Agent Blake reprimanded the officer, then turned back to the PTF soldier volunteering to be chef. "Well?"

"I'm a little rusty, but If I got the right stuff, I can make eggs benedict," the soldier said.

"ETA?" Agent Blake asked.

"Give me 20 minutes and I'll figure it out," the soldier estimated.

"Alright, get right on it, finish it ASAP!" Agent Blake ordered. The PTF soldier scrambled into the kitchen. Then, he turned to the only female officer around. "And you, I'm going to need you to come with me."

"What for, sir?" the female officer inquired, genuinely concerned and confused. And afraid. They had never operated this closely with B-47, B-48 and B-49 before, and neither had they ever been required to stay in close proximity to them for days on end. "Why me?"

"The kids are taking a bath, I thought it'd be proper to have a lady accompany the girls instead of… You know, a guy like me," Agent Blake explained.

"Why not? Professor Utonium did. They're just lab rats, and even if they were girls, you're not a pedophile, right?" the female officer argued.

"Of course not!" Agent Blake retorted before sighing. This was all so much harder than conducting a security patrol or staking out, or guarding a place. Or fighting in the jungles of Vietnam - at least back then, it all felt natural to him, and he had fought on instincts first and training second. Here, he felt like he was floundering at sea, struggling just to keep from drowning. "Look, it's just- The fact is- I'm just saying- God damn it! Fine! You'll accompany me as escort, along with you, you and you." He picked out two other PTF soldiers and another plainclothes officer.

Agent Blake then started towards the stairs, along with his escorts. But before he ascended the stairs, he remembered that he had forgotten to give the rest of them orders. The whole thing was confounding him, totally. "And the rest of you… Help Sergeant Holliday with breakfast or just… guard the place."

'This is hell,' Agent Blake thought, as he went up the stairs.