Put Your Fists into a Fight You'll Never Win

Buttercup stared at her closet for an eon. What were girls supposed to wear on dates? It wasn't like she cared about impressing Butch on the off chance he showed up. Asking her out was nothing more than a joke, but it'd be on him and his stupid friends after she spent the day having fun by herself, or maybe one of the guys would come hang with her. Not like they did anything on the weekends besides play video games, watch movies, or practice a song Mitch had written. Bubbles poked her head into the bathroom as Buttercup did her makeup. "Omigosh, that dress is amazing. Where'd you get it? Please don't say Paris!"

"Paris," Buttercup answered.

"No fair! Can I borrow it sometime?"

"We haven't been the same size since age twelve," she pointed out.

"Then I'm gonna find one like it so we can match!" Bubbles tilted her head. "What're you getting fancy for, anyway?"

"Date."

"A… date? Like a possible relationship with a boy kinda date?" Buttercup grimaced at her wording. "Who're you seeing? Is it Lloyd?"

She snorted. "Why would you assume that?"

"Because he's your type, I think, if you even have one… If it's not him then who?"

"Not telling." She studied her reflection, judging herself good to go.

"You gotta tell me! This is your first date ever, isn't it? Who's the lucky guy?" Bubbles shadowed her while she grabbed her jacket and wallet from her room. "Buttercup, c'mon! Who is it? Who're you seeing?!"

"I'm not telling," she repeated. It didn't matter anyway since he wouldn't be there. She tossed Bubbles a wave and flew out the front door.

Townsville's entertainment center consisted of a movie theater, an arcade, a rotating selection of food trucks, a row of carnival games, and some stores catering to nerdy interests. Buttercup landed at the edge of the main plaza to survey its patrons, genuinely stunned when her eyes landed on Butch. She almost didn't recognize him because he wore dark jeans and a jacket instead of his usual sweats and hoodie combo. He looked nice when not dressed like a gym rat, almost handsome. The clacking of her heels earned his attention. Butch's jaw dropped and Buttercup couldn't help but smirk. "Hey," she greeted, "I didn't think you'd actually show."

"Wasn't sure you would, either," he replied, examining her thrice-over. "You look really pretty." He'd seen her in a dress before, at Homecoming, but this one was an iridescent rainbow mini paired with her black leather jacket and tall black gladiator sandals. And her undercut was back meaning Butch hardly knew what to do with himself. He could stand there admiring her all day.

"Thanks." Buttercup gave their surroundings a cursory sweep. "So what'd you have planned for this date of ours?"

"Uh… whatever you want?"

"Okay then. Boomer tells me you're really good at my favorite fighting game. Let's find a machine so I can kick your ass." Butch dutifully followed her into the arcade wing, but despite a bunch of mutual shit-talking their match ended in a draw. After that they tried a co-op shooter, surviving ten rounds before being overrun by an alien horde. Buttercup winced and rubbed the back of her neck. "Ooh, my shoulders hurt…" He flashed an expression of concern. "From carrying you the entire time."

Butch cracked a grin. They played some VR games, racing games, a couple more shooters and fighters, then wasted the rest of their tokens trying to win a GoPro. "Lame. I swear these things're rigged." Like he couldn't just buy one. He checked the time; an hour had already flown by. "Wanna see a movie?" Buttercup hummed in agreement. It was an action flick containing copious amounts of car chases and a plot about overthrowing patriarchal oppressors, jiving with both of them. As they exited the theater Butch's stomach growled loudly so Buttercup suggested they eat something other than popcorn. "What do you like?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Mexican, Indian, Thai… I don't care as long as it's spicy."

They ordered from a food truck that smelled like it utilized plenty of hot peppers and sat beneath a covered table. "Sooo…" Butch drawled after a few minutes, "you havin' an okay time?"

"I'm still here, aren't I?" He took her snarky response in stride. Buttercup then squinted like she was trying to see through him. "What do you even like about me, really?"

"Everything," he replied without hesitation.

She rolled her eyes. If he couldn't give specifics then he wasn't serious, as expected. "What's the deal with your tattoos?" she queried next. Butch stopped chewing. "I saw them back in August, remember? Do they mean anything?"

He grew rather solemn, taking time to find the right explanation. "I get one after every mission, reminders that I lived to fight another day. I go to a guy in Japan. They're traditional tebori-style, done by hand with a steel needle. Hurts like a bitch but I've felt way worse."

"So they're like your battle scars?" Buttercup flexed her fingers. "I don't scar, either. Chemical X heals them as good as new. It kinda sucks 'cause there were some battles I wanted to commemorate." Butch gave her an intrigued look that she missed. "Anyway, that's pretty neat."

"So is you bein' a model. You gonna stick with it after you graduate?"

"I suppose. My sisters already know which colleges they want to apply to. I have no clue what I'd even study. Bubbles is going to do something artistic and Blossom has her technology, but I'm just trying to survive high school." Which the guys Butch chose to associate with hadn't made any easier. "So yeah, I guess I'll keep modeling until I decide to do something else." Ugh, she sucked at small talk. Did people really do this on dates?

"Cool, cool…" Butch sipped his drink, scanning for other activities. He spotted something in the carnival games prize booth he just had to get for Buttercup. "Let's check out that stuff," he said, and they wandered down the row of shooting galleries, ring tosses, and balloon darts. The prize he wanted required 1000 tickets but earning them proved easy thanks to his exceptional aim. Buttercup played skee ball while he cashed them in, returning with his arms behind his back. "Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

She hesitantly obliged, opening them to find a dragon plushie wearing the stupidest toothy grin. "Wow, thanks a lot," she laughed. Stuffed animals were Bubbles' thing, not hers, but she tucked it under her arm anyway as they moved along the row. Butch didn't say anything for a long while, making her wonder if she'd hurt his feelings by sounding sarcastic. It was a silly toy, sure, but she wasn't going to throw it away. Or did he expect one, too?

"I'm gonna get a funnel cake," Butch announced. Buttercup took the opportunity to whip out her phone and start a group chat.

Guys, Butch stopped talking. He got me a toy and I laughed and he hasn't said anything for like ten minutes! What should I do?

Mitch replied: Whoa, I can't believe you've been with him for three and a half hours! How is it?

Not horrible, I guess. But he's paid for everything. Do I have to pay him back at some point?

Nope! The person who does the asking-out assumes financial responsibility for all date-related expenses.

Floyd replied: Mitch is right even though he hasn't gone out with anyone since freshman year.

I'm on hiatus, okay? The rules haven't changed.

But I don't know what to say to him, you guys. The awkward silence is weirding me out.

Bring up his car, Floyd said. He loves his car, right? That wasn't a bad idea.

Lloyd replied: I'm glad to hear you're all good, Butters, but there's something involving Butch you should probably know about. Ask him what almost happened to you at Princess' Halloween party.

What happened besides you getting shitfaced? Mitch asked.

Not my explanation to give.

Buttercup stowed her phone when Butch returned. "Want some?" he offered. His confection was decorated with powdered sugar, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and strawberries.

"That looks like diabetes on a plate," she remarked, eliciting a chuckle. "Thanks but I'm good." They walked slowly while he ate and she contemplated Lloyd's suggestion. At the end of the aisle she blurted it out. "What almost happened to me at the Halloween party Princess threw?"

Butch simultaneously regarded her in slight horror while failing to swallow the bite he'd just taken. Buttercup waited for him to recover. His face was red when he straightened but it wasn't because he'd almost choked on funnel cake. "How do you know 'bout that? Who told ya?"

"Does it matter?" She crossed her arms, suspicious. "What happened at the party?"

Well, there went his appetite. Butch tossed the plate, shoving his hands into his jean pockets and staring at the ground. "Joey told me to slip you some molly."

"Molly? What the fuck is that?"

"A drug. Ecstasy."

"He told you to drug me?" Buttercup couldn't believe what she was hearing… then again, Joey would probably stoop even lower. "But I only saw you for a second and you didn't give me anything. Why'd you disobey him?"

Butch shrugged. "I didn't wanna help ruin your rep."

"So what'd you do with it?"

"Took it myself, then I met Leigh. I was with her the rest of the night." She said nothing while processing this information. Ten seconds turned into thirty turned into a minute. "Buttercup…" His voice was low, anxious. "Are you mad at me?"

What the hell did he expect her to say? "No, I'm not mad! Thanks for not drugging me instead of getting me molested or raped. Let's be besties now!" If anything she was conflicted. Butch may have thwarted the drug attempt but he still remained complicit in Joey's treatment of her. Yet if he really was such a loyal dog, why had he met her today? Was this a new tactic, an effort to lull her into a false sense of security, as if Buttercup would believe he'd become a good guy like her sisters considered Brick and Boomer to be? No, it took much more than a couple instances of acting like a decent human being to earn her trust, especially after everything she'd dealt with so far.

Buttercup squared her shoulders and met his gaze. "You prevented me from being taken advantage of at that god-awful party, so thanks for that. But whatever this is, this nice guy act, it won't work. I'm not going to let you hurt me."

His countenance dimmed. "I'm not tryin' to—"

"Yes you are," she insisted, "you've been doing it since Homecoming 'cause that's what Joey wants! He told you to ask me out, didn't he? He told you to stand me up, right?" Butch opened his mouth but then closed it, at a loss for words. Attempting to get closer to Buttercup had only succeeded in pushing her further away. She didn't trust him, and why should she when he was best friends with the guy tormenting her? She stepped backward away from him. "We've played all the games worth playing. I'm going home."

Bubbles was on her as soon as she opened the front door. "You're back!" she cheered. "How was it? Where'd you go? What'd you do? Who'd you see?"

"Fine, the entertainment complex, played games, saw a movie." Buttercup made a beeline for her room, annoyed that Blossom trailed her as well.

"Why won't you tell us who you went out with? Are you embarrassed?"

"Hell no. It's none of your business," Buttercup said.

"We just wanna know who was worthy of being your first real date!"

She rounded on them. "It was Butch, okay?! I went out with Butch!" They both gaped. "I thought he wouldn't be there but he was, and it meant nothing. He was just…" She sighed deeply, emotionally drained. He'd just been messing with her on Joey's behalf, as usual.

Blossom recovered first. "Well, I hope you at least had some fun."

"That's a really cute plushie," Bubbles added, then they left her alone.

Buttercup groaned and flopped onto her bed, scrutinizing the dragon with its stupid smile. Why did Butch get it for her? Did he liken her to a reptile, too? Biting, snappy, tough exterior, cold-blooded, terrible at showing affection… She set it beside the stuffed alligator she'd had since childhood. One green, one black. Their colors.

Mike closed his locker and turned around to head to first period, nearly leaping out of his skin when he found Butch standing directly behind him. "Jesus Christ on a bicycle, I didn't even hear you! Why are you giving me a heart attack this early in the morning?" He put a hand on his chest.

"I need your help," Butch stated. "I don't wanna be Joey's friend anymore. I need to break away from him."

"Why are you telling me?"

"You wanna leave too, right? Aren't you sick of his bullshit? You're always speakin' out against him."

Mike glanced up and down the hall before motioning for Butch to follow. They ducked into a classroom that wouldn't be occupied until second period. "I have to be honest with you, Butch. The reason why I hang with the jocks is so they don't pick on me. I'm small, weak, and I'm not great at reading and writing 'cause I have dyslexia so some of my grades suck. It's been working for me since junior high." He gestured to Butch. "You're one of them by nature, and you're a superhuman. They couldn't hurt you if they tried."

"I get that, really, and I'll protect you if you bail with me but I can't do it alone. I don't… know how." Butch nervously shifted his weight. "Me 'n Buttercup went on a real date yesterday." Not that it had ended well.

"Oh…" Mike covered his mouth. "Dude, I didn't think you'd actually listen to me! Fink's going to be livid! He sees Buttercup as his conquest and muscling in on her is the greatest betrayal!" He sighed. "But I said I'd have your back, didn't I? There has to be a way to spin this so it won't seem like you're trying to ditch him. He'd never just let you go, he's too reliant on you. Fink depends on you to get your hands dirty so he doesn't have to."

"Yeah, well, I'm done lettin' him use me. And I want him to leave Buttercup alone, too."

Mike hummed. "That won't be easy, he's completely obsessed with her." A gear clicked and an idea began turning in his mind. "Hang on, she's the key to everything. Fink's revenge quest started because Buttercup emasculated him in front of the whole cafeteria." He regarded Butch appraisingly. "How fragile are you? Would it hurt your pride if you got your ass kicked by a girl?"

"Are you sayin' I should fight Buttercup?" Butch deduced.

"And lose to her in front of Fink." Mike's smile faded. "This plan hinges on getting her to agree. She's not dumb, she won't do anything that'll draw the schoolboard's attention again like what happened with Princess. But Robin tells me she has a ton of pent-up aggression toward us. Maybe you can, like, gently provoke her?"

Butch knew exactly which buttons to press.

Buttercup stormed out of Chemistry as Mitch and Floyd chased after her, making a point not to touch her since she was still damp and partially undressed. An allegedly accidental spill of Schweizer's reagent had reduced her shirt to goop, almost getting her bra as well before she made it to the emergency shower in the lab. Now her jeans were wet and chaffing, her hair was a mess, makeup ruined, and it wasn't exactly the right weather for wearing a cropped hoodie with no layer beneath it. To make matters worse people instantly started whispering in the lunchroom meaning Miss Keane would call her to the office soon to say she'd violated the dress code, as if she wanted everyone gawking at her midsection. That tunic had been one of her favorites, too.

Butch sat and waited for Joey to arrive. The guys who were talking about how hot Buttercup was clamped their mouths shut when he appeared with his off-campus meal of the day, situating himself opposite Butch instead of beside him. He didn't have to wonder how Joey knew he hadn't stood up Buttercup since he had connections all over Townsville; it wasn't a stretch to assume he was acquainted with one or more of the teenage workers at the entertainment complex. "So how was your weekend, buddy?" Joey inquired, his clenched jaw belying his nonchalant tone. "Do anything fun?"

"Guess you could say that," Butch replied just as casually.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Nah."

His eyes narrowed. "Oh, c'mon, tell me how great a time you had with Buttercup. I'm dying to know."

"You went out with her?" a soccer player asked. "But Joey, didn't you tell him to—"

"To not show because he was supposed to be fucking with her? Did I say that? Guess I say a lot of shit that goes in one of his ears and right out the other 'cause he's spacing out all the fucking time." Butch rested his chin in his hand, unfazed. "Why didn't you listen to me, man? I gotta tell you, it kinda seems like you took advantage of that situation to make a move on Buttercup. You don't actually have a thing for her, do you?"

"The only thing I got for her is eight inches long and in my pants," he returned.

Once Joey laughed it was okay for the other guys to do so. "You fucker! You had me going there for a sec." He shook his head at Butch's audacity. "So you were just messing with her, then? Playing nice so she'd let her guard down or something?"

"I hoped the date would get me in but she saw right through me. Now I got another idea to knock her down a few pegs. Just watch." Butch swaggered up behind the Puff, reaching past her shoulder to tilt her juice bottle and empty its contents all over the front of her coat. Buttercup sputtered, swiped at her mouth, and gave him a glare hot enough to melt steel.

"What the fuck, asshole? What was that for?"

"Looks like you're all wet again," he leered. "Better take off that hoodie."

She stood to grab his collar, yanking him down to her eye level. "I knew you threw that shit on me on purpose, you fucking creep. You owe me for that shirt!"

Butch's attention fell to her chest. "Let me snap a few nude pics and I'll give you enough cash to buy the whole store, babe." Nearby students boggled at the fat money clip he waved in her face. "How 'bout it?"

Buttercup wasn't positive what happened next since she experienced the opposite of a blackout, white-hot rage blurring her vision instead, but when she came to her senses Lloyd, Mitch, and Floyd were all pulling her off Butch. He lay on the ground with a bleeding gash across his lower lip, laughing. She wanted to hit him again just for making that noise and lunged forward, her friends struggling to hold her back. "Cool your jets, Butters! He's not worth it!"

"Seriously, do you want to get suspended for fighting?!"

"I don't care!" she shrieked, clawing at whoever's arms were around her waist. "Let me go so I can kill him!"

Butch watched her try fighting them off with a shit-eating grin on his face, his chiming phone ruining the moment. Mike's text read: I said GENTLY provoke her, not make her want to murder you! Guess that was his cue to return.

Joey glanced between Butch and Buttercup, now pacified, and let out a short laugh. "What'd you say to her? I've never seen her that pissed off before."

"Told her I'd pay for nudes. Her outfit's already halfway gone."

"Did you do something in third period?" His head bobbed once, then Joey frowned. "So what's the plan?"

"You'll find out soon," Butch cryptically replied.

Buttercup sat behind him in French class burning a hole in his back until their teacher had everyone choose partners to converse with. She practically teleported to him, scaring away a few other interested students with nothing more than the glint in her eyes. It had the opposite effect on Butch, thrilling him; she had worn that look every time they fought in their youth. "Nice shirt," he commented.

"Thanks, it's Mitch's." His brow furrowed and her lips quirked. "Jealous?"

Butch shamelessly ogled her cleavage. "It'd be better if I could see your abs and your tits."

"I could gouge your fucking eyes out right now, Butch."

"Oh yeah?" Their conspiratorial whispering and the prospect of clashing fists made his fingers twitch. "What else do you wanna do to me?"

Buttercup didn't have to think twice about it. "I want to be the one who permanently scars you. You won't need any more tattoos after what I do to you."

He bit his lower lip to suppress a manic smile. "Should we get outta here?"

"Sure."

"Where to?"

"Anywhere they'll be able to find your corpse." Buttercup examined her nails, imagining them tearing him to pieces. "Not sure if your brothers will be able to identify you, though."

Butch chuckled. "You really think you can kill me?"

"I know so." The manner in which she said this gave him pause for thought. She wasn't being cocky, simply stating a cold, hard fact. "I've changed since we were kids."

"Yeah, you got hot. But you're still crazy."

"Crazy powerful," she corrected, then leaned in and spoke softly. "Do you really want to fight me, Butch?"

"Fuck yeah." He trembled like a leaf but he couldn't tell if it was from inhaling her air, the proximity of her face, or her intense eyes filling his entire field of vision. Probably all three.

"Okay. We'll have a preliminary match to see if you're even worthy of facing me at full strength. That's why I haven't simply beat the shit out of Joey, you know– he'd break too easily. But you're made of the same stuff as me, so I have higher hopes for you." Buttercup tapped her nails on the desk. "Name the time and place. I'll be there."

"Next Friday, Duke's, six o'clock. You 'n me, five rounds."

Buttercup clasped his hand to shake on it. "I'll take you out in three."

Both combatants had the good sense not to tell their siblings what they were doing that weekend. Buttercup was already at Duke's when Butch arrived, standing near the row of lockers in dark violet shorts and a padded bra. She smirked as he approached. "You brought your own cheerleaders? How cute."

Joey, Harry, Mike, and a few other unimportant guys were in tow. "Speak for yourself, bitch. What're they doing here?" Joey jerked his chin at Mitch and Floyd, scowling at Lloyd specifically. Traitor.

"Buttercup is our friend and we're here to support her," Floyd answered simply.

"And we also wanted to watch her beat the shit outta Butch," Mitch added.

Joey sneered. "The only thing you're going to watch is Buttercup getting put in her place."

She planted her hands on her hips and offered him a smile full of teeth. "Sure, and you're sending Butch against me 'cause you're too big of a pussy to face me yourself, unless you'd like to switch with him. What do you say, Rat Fink? Wanna be my warm-up?"

He prepared to fire off a retort but a booming male voice drowned it out. "Leave them alone, B. These guys got nothin' on you." The older owner made snap judgments of Butch and his entourage, scrutinizing him. "I shoulda known you were a super when you waltzed in here with that attitude the first time. Gotta say I ain't keen on letting you destroy my gym with your abilities."

"No worries, Duke. That's why I brought these." Buttercup reached into her bag for two syringes filled with Antidote X.

Butch instinctively backed away. "Hey, hang on a sec, I didn't agree to that."

"Just take it, man," Joey urged. "You don't need your powers to beat her."

Buttercup dosed herself and then regarded Butch slyly. "This is the only way I'm fighting you right now. I don't want to risk demolishing Townsville or seeing bystanders get hurt. Give me your arm." He proffered it, cringing as she injected a vein with practiced ease. In moments he could feel his strength ebbing away, making him shudder. Butch was good at repressing his power in order to play sports like a normal person, but the sensation of no longer having access to it at all was extremely off-putting. He felt feeble, the weight of his shirt even getting to him. He hastily removed it.

"Alright, now that that's taken care of there are a few rules to go over." Duke focused on Butch since Buttercup already knew the drill. "First, you gotta take out those piercings. You'll wear a mouthguard, instep guards and gloves, and you'll have five minutes per round to either KO your opponent or get them to submit. If you can't escape a hold, tap out before you pass out. I see too much blood or a possible concussion, I stop the fight. No biting, crotch shots, fingers in orifices, rabbit punches, or knees and elbows to the face. And you boys watching better keep your hands outside the fence. Okay?" He received nods from everyone assembled. "Okay. Go on in."

Buttercup appeared totally relaxed as she went to the far side of the octagon, stretching her arms like she was about to engage in a mild workout. Butch was not as calm, trepidation brewing in his stomach. Suddenly this didn't seem like such a good idea. The point was to lose to her, not get his shit wrecked, yet when Duke blew the whistle and she strutted toward him as if the MMA ring were a catwalk, Butch realized he was way out of his element.

She was agile, he'd already seen that in P.E., but she seemed a lot faster now as she dodged his right cross and countered with a left to his jaw, sending him sideways. He shook his head, already seeing stars, drawing his fists up to protect his face. Buttercup wore a little smile behind her own, faking him out with a few jabs. "Come on, Butch, get her!" someone shouted. Like an idiot he listened, acting without thinking only to end up being taken down and maneuvered into an armbar. He felt ligaments straining, like one little jerk would rip his limb clean off. He flailed with his other hand, hitting Buttercup's hip joint and loosening her legs on reflex. After they both returned to their feet Butch rolled his shoulders and blew out a breath. He had almost no sense of his own capabilities without Chemical X.

Buttercup waited for openings instead of pressing an offense, utilizing three-hit combos embedded into her muscle memory. She lashed out and recoiled like a serpent, taking advantage of every dumb mistake he made. Butch tried to grab her, had a grip on her for a second, but she slipped away and brought him down again. She put him in a chokehold from behind, her legs pinning his lower half to the mat as her vice-like arm gradually cut off his air supply. Butch tapped it twice when he felt his face turning purple and Duke blew the whistle.

Joey smacked the barrier. "Come on, man! You're bigger than her! You're stronger than her! Stop screwing around!"

Butch tried using the more aggressive aspects of his disciplines in the next round but Buttercup met him hit for hit. She was an angry girl, always had been, so once the supply of genetic abominations dried up her family suggested she find an appropriate outlet for her rage. Duke was the only gym owner who told her she could train with him as a pissed-off ten year-old. He was a good mentor, strict yet fair, with salt-and-pepper hair and crinkled denim eyes that had seen some shit during his military service. After Buttercup's first year Duke sent her to study taekwondo with a master in Seoul. Then he sent her to Rio for jiu-jitsu, and before freshman year she had undergone Muay Thai training in its motherland. It was like summer camp for kicking ass and learning to channel all that anger into functional power in the event Chemical X ever failed her.

Or in case she got fed up with Joey and his gang of fuckboys. His taunting grew incessant so she abandoned her attack against Butch to whirl around and launch herself at the fence, nearly delivering a sliding kick to his face through the chain link. Joey spat something, then crowed as Butch enveloped her in a bear hug and dragged her back toward the middle of the ring. Buttercup wound an ankle around his leg to trip him, knocking them both over, then straddled his waist and struck three times before he shoved her off. A thin stream of blood from a cut above his eyebrow trickled into his arch and dripped onto the canvas as they circled one another.

As she rushed him Butch used a judo takedown on her, trapping one of her legs beneath his torso and hooking the other over his shoulder in a useless but not uncomfortable split. He couldn't withhold the thought that formed. "Y'know, Buttercup… there's somethin' else I'd rather be doin' in this position."

"Me too," she agreed, and decked his temple.

Only a few minutes remained of the second round, both combatants bruised and sweaty. Butch moved sluggishly, not as alert after getting punched in the dome multiple times. Buttercup came within range, goaded him into delivering a straight kick, caught his leg and elbowed his knee before letting him limp. The next second Butch felt himself on the receiving end of a roundhouse, her whole body weight behind her shin as it connected with the left side of his head. He hit the floor in a daze, vaguely aware of several guys yelling at him to stand; he couldn't lose to her, he was a Rowdyruff Boy for fuck's sake and she was just a girl. The whistle sounded distant as his eyes fluttered shut.

Joey had a white-knuckle grasp on the fence. "No, Butch, get up! Get up and finish her off! You can do it, come on!" Buttercup received praises from her friends while Duke knelt beside him.

"Your buddy's done, kid," the man relayed, "he's out cold. A kick like that woulda busted my jaw. Miracle he didn't lose any teeth."

"This is fucking bullshit! You're taking her side!"

Duke sighed. "If you think you can do better, feel free to get in here yourself." Joey fumed at the suggestion. "Otherwise quit your whining and go home."

No, no, no. This wasn't over yet. Joey stalked Buttercup to her bag where she grabbed a water bottle, holding up a finger to prevent him from speaking until she'd been adequately hydrated. "What do you want now, Finkelmeyer? You about to bitch and moan and tell me I cheated? You saw the fight with your own eyes."

And Butch had lost. He'd lost pretty damn bad if his dead weight across Harry's shoulders was any indication. "How long does that antidote shit take to wear off?" Joey wanted to know.

"The dose was for an hour."

And it'd only taken her about twelve minutes to KO Butch. That made him even madder when he realized the confidence she radiated was exactly that, not hubris. "So there's still some time left, huh? What if I wanted to take a crack at you, but not here? I don't have the gear."

Buttercup viewed him sidelong. "You realize there's etiquette involved in matches that prevents people from getting fucked up, right? If you wanted to take things outside those rules would no longer apply."

Joey ignored the warning, a malicious smile curving his lips. "That's fine with me."

"Alright, lead the way." They didn't go very far since Duke's gym was already situated on the edge of the metro. Joey and the Floyjoydson twins left their cars in the parking lot as everyone wandered out to a grassy meadow, a wise choice; turf was softer than asphalt. Buttercup now wore a tank top and shoes but no gloves. She hadn't hit anything with her bare knuckles in a long time, flexing her hands while Joey shrugged off his jacket and tossed it to a minion. "You really wanna do this, Finkelmeyer? We could agree to end everything right now, just ignore each other from now on. I'm getting pretty tired of putting you guys in your place."

He exuded a scornful chuckle. "Y'know, I might've said yes if you ditched the attitude. Where is our place, huh? Where's my place supposed to be? Beneath you 'cause you're a superhuman who's better than us in every single way?"

"I don't believe I'm better than anyone else," Buttercup said.

Joey glowered at that. "When I asked you to go with me to Homecoming you said 'I'm definitely too good for you, Rat Fink'. Remember that? You told me no 'cause I wasn't worthy."

"I told you no because you're a player," she corrected. "There's more to me than my body, and I don't wanna be in a relationship with someone who just wants to stake a claim on it." They inched closer together. "You know, if you hadn't groped my ass, I might've said yes to you. I wondered if you'd matured since junior high, but you haven't. You're an entitled prick who's used to getting whatever you want, and you hate that you can't have me." She tapped her cheek. "You can have the first shot, though. Better make it a good one before I show you what it really means to hit like a girl."

Butch awoke to hooting and hollering in addition to an intense headache. Thankfully there weren't any bright lights around to amplify it, but he did see lots of stars overhead. "The fuck 'm I?" he mumbled.

"Hey, you're awake." Mike's visage blotted out the night sky. "Take it slow. Duke says Buttercup gave you a concussion with that last strike." Just replaying it made him wince, but damn if her form hadn't been flawless. He lay on the ground a minute more to gather his bearings, then turned his head sideways to see what was causing the commotion. "Easy, easy!" Mike tried to prevent him from rushing forward but he was too small; however, Harry was large enough to stop Butch from barging into the fight.

"Get off her!" he shouted, trying to break past the lineman. All the aches and pains he'd sustained meant he didn't have the strength just yet.

Joey shot him a scowl full of contempt. "Well if isn't Sleeping Beauty. Enjoy your nap, princess?"

"Get off her…" Butch said again, practically pleading. "C'mon, man, stop it. Look at her."

"I know, isn't it great?" Joey sneered at Buttercup. "Not such a hot model now." She could only glare at him through one eye since the other was swollen shut. The opposite side of her face had been split open by a rock that she had the misfortune to fall on, and her shirt hung in tatters. But she'd done more damage to Joey by breaking both his nose and right shoulder with satisfying crunches. Just before Butch stirred he'd tackled her at the waist and knocked the wind out of her, and he currently had a hand on her throat yet wasn't squeezing. "Guess I should thank you for weakening her for me, Butch." Buttercup scoffed, spitting on him. His fingers tightened. "Got something to say, bitch?"

"Yeah…" She took a deep breath. "You're a coward." Before Joey could strangle her she exhaled and jerked a knee up to his occipital ridge, pushing his unconscious form aside. The onlookers were quiet as Buttercup shakily stood. Fuck, that'd been a lot harder than she anticipated. Somewhere in the rear of her brain was a reminder that Joey's dad was an amateur boxer; the douchebag knew how to throw a decent punch. Lloyd and Floyd supported her between themselves while trudging to their car, Mitch trailing.

Joey recovered before they reached it. "Stop her…" he growled, rising to his hands and knees. "One of you drag her back here now." Harry and another boy obeyed but then halted, and he lifted his head. "Get the fuck outta the way, Butch."

"No." He stood firmly between the two groups. "I'm not gonna let you hurt her anymore." Buttercup heard that and glanced over her shoulder to see what was going on. The boy of no consequence backed off immediately as Harry tried moving around Butch only to be blockaded. "Leave her alone. It's over."

Someone helped Joey to his feet. "It's not over till I say it's over. Move your fucking useless ass out of the way."

"No." Harry stopped trying to sidestep him, shooting his leader an apprehensive look. The defiance in Butch's dark green eyes enraged him more than anything that had happened so far. "If you wanna get to Buttercup, you gotta go through me." That was fine with Joey. Fury fueled his steps and gave him enough strength to approach the Ruff with his functional arm raised in preparation to knock the daylights out of him. Finesse failed him as Butch easily blocked the punch, driving a fist into his solar plexus. Joey collapsed onto the grass, finished. No one budged.

"…Well, that didn't quite go as planned," Mike remarked, disrupting the silence. "But all's well that ends well. Let's go, Butch."

"You guys're just leaving?" Harry hedged. "What about Fink?"

"Fuck him."

By Monday there were no indications that Butch and Buttercup had been embroiled in conflict over the weekend, but Joey had a bandage on his nose and his arm was in a cast and sling. He wore a long-sleeved shirt to hide his other injuries and he didn't say a word to anyone. The tension in Chemistry was thick enough to cut with a knife, slightly alleviated by the experiment taking place outside. Butch lingered as the bell rang, in no rush to head to the cafeteria. He could just skip it altogether and get lunch in the city like Brick did every day, but then he remembered Mike. He flew through the doors in a mild panic, relieved to see that his petite friend was perfectly fine. Butch joined the line behind him. "Hey, look at you," Mike beamed, "not a scratch on you! And look over there…" He inclined his head toward their old table occupied by only Joey. "He's got nobody left. After Harry told the other guys what you did, they all abandoned him."

"But I didn't really do anything," Butch refuted. "It was your plan."

"Not the part where you openly defied Fink and then socked him in the gut. That was all you, dude. You were, like, valiant."

That was a word he never imagined being used to describe him. "I had to stop him…" Butch muttered, "he was actin' crazy." And he'd been defending himself in retrospect.

"Well, I hope he learned his lesson." They loaded their trays, paid, and then surveyed the room together. "Where do we sit now?" Mike mused.

"Outside?" Butch suggested. The weather was certainly nice enough, plus there were trees in the courtyard offering shade. While searching for the perfect spot someone unexpectedly called to them.

"Hey, you two." It was Buttercup, her voice cutting through the din. "Come hang with us." Mitch, Lloyd, and Floyd were more than welcoming but she didn't say anything else while the conversation flowed easily; three of the guys were former teammates who held no grudges against one another. As talk dwindled toward the end of the hour, Buttercup finally spoke again, fixating Butch with an intense stare. "Come with me." She grabbed his wrist and surprised the hell out of him by lifting him from his seat.

"You… you're flyin'." And nearly holding his hand. Was he dreaming?

"Yep. Come on." Butch followed her into the sky until wispy clouds streaked across the aerial view of Townsville High. She hovered with one hand on her hip. "Why'd you do it?" He regarded her blankly. "Why did you stand up for me? Your friends all bailed."

"I still got Mike, 'n Lloyd I think…" His brow furrowed. "Joey wasn't my friend, and neither were most of those guys. We all felt like we owed him somethin'."

Buttercup nodded in acceptance of his answer. "I'm glad you saw his true colors. And I should thank you for putting yourself between me and him. Thanks, Butch."

"Yeah, sure, anytime…" Why did his chest feel hot? It was barely spring, not that warm yet. "Do you still hate me?"

"Nope. Actually, I wanted to ask if you'd like to spar again sometime. Without antidote."

"Really?" he breathed.

"Really," Buttercup said. "And I'm not taking it before school anymore. I don't give a fuck if Princess has a conniption. You know, I doubt any of this would've happened if I'd just solved the initial problem by bruising Joey's ego before things escalated so far. But I was trying to be nice, I didn't want to hurt him. I gave him multiple chances to turn the other cheek. Now he has nothing." And the fact that neither of them sported embarrassing evidence of the climactic battle was like icing on the sweet revenge cake. They could both move forward with their lives now. "So what do you say? Wanna fight again?" Butch opened his mouth to give her a resounding yes but she raised a hand. "Before you agree, I wanna show you something. Make a shield."

"Huh?"

"Make a shield, your toughest one." Butch manipulated his own electromagnetic field into an ionized sphere. Buttercup simply placed her palms on it. Nothing happened at first, but then he felt rather than heard a sort of tingling, buzzing sensation. His shield started to waver, the energy crackling. He focused on maintaining its shape and integrity but an external force radiated into his limbs, shaking it apart. Without warning the sphere failed and the strange vibration subsided.

"The fuck was that?" he asked, wide-eyed. "What'd you do?"

Buttercup appeared quite pleased with herself. "I don't think you know this, but when I was a kid I didn't have a unique ability like my sisters. I was just a little bit 'more' than them, with greater strength, endurance, and speed. Guess I was a late bloomer 'cause I got one when we turned twelve. Magic of puberty." She splayed her fingers. "It's called resonance. Basically, I generate vibrations that harmonize with resonant frequencies. It's easiest with physical objects but I disrupt pretty much anything, even light and sound waves."

There were a lot of big words in there that Butch didn't understand, but the ability to break stuff just by touching it sounded awesome. "Does it work on people?"

"Dunno," she shrugged, "never tried it."

Now he was morbidly curious. "Try it on me."

"I don't think that's a good idea. I might kill you." And it was clear Buttercup didn't want that. She never really did. They descended to campus, landing in their spots at the table.

"Welcome back," Mitch greeted. "How's the weather up there?"

"Pretty nice," the Powerpuff answered. "We'll eat out here for the rest of the year unless it rains." She turned to Butch and Mike. "You guys can sit with us from now on."

Mike was ecstatic but Butch withheld his enthusiasm, waiting until the bell rang. "Are we friends now?" he wondered.

Buttercup partially smiled at him but he could tell it was as sincere as her laughter had been three months ago. "Yeah, you earned it."