A/N: Minor content warning for the Blues being intimate.

The Summer is Calling Your Name

Last-minute assignments. Final tests. Turning in textbooks. Cleaning. Annuals. A farewell assembly. The end of the school year.

Although Boomer never joined Yearbook Club he inadvertently contributed to it during his first-semester Photography class. Several candid pictures he'd taken made it into the annual, including the one of Brick scowling at the camera while drinking his cappuccino during the Homecoming game. Much to Brick's annoyance, that was the photo everyone wanted him to sign. Butch, on the other hand, gladly scribbled his name across whichever snapshot of him people proffered like a celebrity doling out autographs to adoring fans.

Next came the graduation ceremony. Brick wanted to say goodbye to the senior council members he'd grown to respect and Boomer was there with Bubbles as she cheered for Dee Dee and Mimi. The latter was salutatorian and Li Leigh was valedictorian, both delivering poignant speeches about the lasting friendships they had made and learning skills that would help them achieve success in life. Bubbles bawled her eyes out, and when the ceremony ended with the seniors throwing their caps into the air she grabbed two giant bouquets of flowers and brought them to her friends. "Hey, sweetie," Mimi greeted, hugging her tightly, "please don't cry for us. We're going to see you up until the day we leave. That's three whole weeks we still have together." That just made Bubbles cry harder so Dee Dee embraced her as well.

"And it's not like we're gonna be gone forever!" the tall blonde assured. "Our program is less than a year long! We'll probably be back before you graduate!"

"R-really?" Bubbles sniffled. "That'd be… that'd be great."

"And we're still on social media, just in a different timezone. We can chat and give you updates!" Mimi added.

Right, it wasn't like they were dropping off the face of the earth, just undergoing intensive training for a while. They'd complete the program, join a ballet company, and become famous primas; that was Dee Dee and Mimi's shared dream. Bubbles was unsure if she wanted to join them, go to art school, or try being a veterinarian, but she still had time to decide. She knew she should stop thinking so far ahead and focus on the present, appreciating everyone surrounding her with love while she had them. Boomer held her as a mixture of sad and happy tears dampened his shirt, smiling gently. "For what it's worth, I'm not going anywhere."

Bubbles pulled back to wipe her cheeks. "I know, and I'm glad. Mike, Robin, and Julie are sticking around for a while, too. We should all hang out this summer."

"I'll do anything as long as it's with you," Boomer said, which may have been super mushy but it made Bubbles feel better. She clung to him while he sought out his brothers, seeing Brick shake hands with Mimi and then look mildly alarmed when she hugged him. He watched Butch make his way through the crowd to Leigh and give her a single flower. She stood on tiptoes to hug him with one arm, thanking him. Boomer supposed that was as amicable a parting could be between fuck buddies.

June 10th was the actual last day of school for the underclassmen, but the fact that summer break was upon her didn't really hit Blossom until she got up at six o'clock as usual and found the house completely dark and quiet. "Oh…" she murmured, "that's right." She spun on her heel and crawled back into bed with a sigh, groaning when her phone jingled.

You awake? Brick asked.

You too? she replied.

Forgot school was over.

Same. I got so used to the routine.

Since we're both up, want to get breakfast? he offered.

Sure. Where?

Is Café Een okay? They really do make the best coffee in town.

That worked out perfectly because Blossom wanted to talk to her manager about taking on more hours. She left the house stealthily so as not to wake her family members and flew into the metro where Brick was already waiting, feigning a gasp of disbelief. "Brick Lucian wears sweatpants? But that's not a perfectly polished outfit!"

He half-smiled while holding the door for her and said, "I'm not above being comfortable." She was still better dressed than him in leggings and an off-the-shoulder top, and she'd taken the time to tidy her braid whereas he'd hidden his bedhead beneath a baseball hat. The café was busy serving its regulars but they found an empty table in the front corner after ordering drinks, bagels, and fruit parfaits. Blossom preferred black tea in the morning while Brick opted for coffee with one cream. The caffeine worked its magic and they both perked up enough to have a real conversation.

"So…" Blossom laced her fingers atop the table. "Can I interest you in a trip to Mexico at some point this summer?"

Brick sputtered before setting his mug down. "What?"

"I wanted to show you Mexico in exchange for taking me to Seville on your birthday," she elaborated. "I lived there my entire sophomore year but there were a few places I didn't get the chance to visit– Mazatlan, Guadalajara, Oaxaca, and the Yucatan Peninsula."

"That… sounds like more than a day trip."

"It would probably take a week, maybe longer depending on how much culture you want to experience. You said you lived in Oaxaca, though, so we could skip it and go to Baja instead." Blossom tilted her head. "What do you think?"

What did he think? Traveling together was about to become his favorite hobby! "We should do it," Brick said, suppressing his enthusiasm, "but when?"

"Let's tentatively agree on August, before my birthday. I plan on working as much as possible to save up for this excursion."

"You know I can cover all the expenses without issue, Blossom…"

"Then you would be treating me again and I don't want that," she returned. "And don't even think about paying for breakfast. I get the employee discount."

Brick raised his hands in surrender as Blossom went to the front counter, shelling out twelve whole dollars for their impromptu yet productive breakfast date. She then spoke to her manager.

Townsville wasn't a tropical paradise or anything, but it was situated on the Pacific coast and drew its fair share of inland tourists during the summer months. Blossom didn't mind catering to the visitors since a lot of the ones her age left good tips, which Robin also wanted to hoard before her family's trip to Disney World. Three blocks east, Bubbles and Julie accepted more shifts at Heavenly Body, selling copious amounts of sunblock, self tanner, lotions, and hairspray for beachy waves. It helped Bubbles keep her mind off the fact that two of her best friends had gone to another continent, and she genuinely liked interacting with customers while utilizing her product expertise. Buttercup enjoyed having the house all to herself, lounging around until her agency summoned her to the office at the end of June. It seemed the owner of the swimwear company she modeled for last month had friends in high places because she had been invited to walk the runway for a haute couture designer during Paris Fashion Week followed by Miami Swim Week, which could very well catapult her career to new heights. Buttercup packed her bags and jetted off to France.

The Ruffs were significantly less productive than their female counterparts. Boomer kept whining about how he missed seeing Bubbles, Butch played video games in his underwear all day, and Brick couldn't find the motivation to research the final financier Max had hired them to intimidate. Once they got the person to abandon their research group there'd be no more reason to stay in Townsville… no professional reason. Brick wasn't quite ready to acknowledge his personal feelings on the matter. Against his better judgment he had formed attachments to certain aspects of the city and to a certain girl who wanted to take him on an adventure. It'd be stupid to wait around for her for a whole month, right? They could go on mini adventures in the meantime, like the opening of a new museum exhibit or Townsville's yearly tech expo.

Or, because Brick started overthinking how he and Blossom would be perceived in public together like the insecure teenage boy he really was, he could work his way through the list of epic poetry she had recommended beginning with Homer's 'Iliad' and 'Odyssey'. Reading was a much easier way to occupy his time until August, no emotions required.

Independence Day consisted of a barbecue at Robin's house where Mike, the Rowdyruffs, the Professor, and his two daughters enjoyed tasty food and lighting off fireworks. After that, Bubbles' boss forced her to take a week off so she spent her break playing catch-up with her ballet class. Dee Dee and Mimi being gone meant she was now the eldest student and had to set a good example for the younger kids. It also meant she was in the spotlight during an exhibition to recruit new dancers.

Bubbles managed to put a routine together, venturing into more contemporary territory rather than classical or neoclassical. Sinewy arms, dramatic floor work, lots of flashy splits and fan kicks. She set it to fast-paced music and even improvised a bit, just having fun with the choreography, and since it wasn't a big important show she didn't bother telling Blossom. It felt good to dance after being cooped up in the boutique. Someone she hadn't expected to see met her backstage afterward; Boomer presented her with an orange rose this time. "Omigosh, what're you doing here?!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "I didn't tell anyone about this show!"

He grinned. "Firstly, it's open to the public. Secondly, I got notified by your teacher." Bubbles blinked several times at that. "Last year, after your fundraising recital, I made a donation to support the class and I've been getting updates since then."

"You… you donated? How much?"

"Enough to cover a few years," he answered. "You love dancing so I wanted to make sure you could keep doing it."

Bubbles felt her eyes begin to water and swiped at them before joyful tears fell. "That's so… that's so… nice!" She thanked him with a kiss that made his pulse quicken, gazing at him reverently from beneath her golden lashes. "You really are the sweetest boy ever, Boomer."

"Be sweeter if I could get some more sugar from you, Sugar." She smiled at her recently acquired pet name as Boomer buried his nose in her hair. "I know we don't have to be together all the time, but I miss you. Feels like forever since it was just us."

She gripped his shirt while pondering those words. Bubbles was a true extrovert, a people person, a social butterfly who considered herself pretty good at reading others and empathizing with them. She had noticed early on that Boomer exhibited the possessive tendency to place his hands on her while in the presence of other men, which she attributed to having two bigger brothers who could easily take things away from him. His touchiness didn't raise a red flag because he didn't hurt or manipulate her, but he preferred it being just the two of them. Given that they had gone from spending every day at school together to not seeing each other for more than a few hours exactly twice since summer break began, his feelings of neglect were valid. "Let's have a night in," Bubbles suggested. "We'll watch movies and order food. How 'bout it?"

"My place or yours?" he asked.

"You've been in my room a few times already, but I haven't even seen yours yet." Despite all those invitations to come over to browse his scrapbooks and photographs, work on art projects, practice songs, and play the rhythm game he imported from Japan just for her, Bubbles had not set foot in the Rowdyruff Boys' penthouse. Consequently, she was excited when Boomer took her hand and they flew to Evergreen Tower.

"I'm back!" he announced upon opening the front door. "Bubbles is with me!"

"Sup!" Butch greeted from the fridge.

Bubbles giggled and blushed, and Boomer scowled at him. "Put some clothes on. There's a lady present."

Butch glanced down at his boxers. "Like she hasn't seen more than this from doin' ballet with dudes in tights."

"Umm, there's only three guys in my class and they're, like, twelve." Her gaze swept over Butch. He resembled a sculpture of a Greek god come to life, tall and bronze with muscles so prominent he had his own dynamic shading no matter the light source. She didn't understand how Buttercup refrained from throwing herself at him; it seemed obvious to everyone but her that Butch was super into her. Bubbles could tell that Boomer was jealous of his underdressed brother so she squeezed his hand and he led her upstairs to his room, relaxing once they were alone.

"This is it," he gestured. "What do you think?"

"It smells good," she commented. It made sense that Boomer's room would smell like him, a fresh, clean, aquatic scent with notes of mint and lavender. His bed was smaller than hers yet his desk was much larger since it connected to shelves housing his camera, some attachments, art books, and plastic bins full of craft supplies. A Papasan chair sat in the middle of the floor facing a wall-mounted TV. There was a small jewelry holder atop the dresser where his favorite accessories lived, including the leather ring she gave him for Valentine's Day. Every inch of wall space was covered by a poster, painting, or metal sign, many of which appeared vintage. Bubbles went through each of his scrapbooks that doubled as photo albums, finally getting to see some of what he had in each location the Ruffs called home. The book from their time in Venice was huge; Boomer loved the city since it was one of the centers of the Italian Renaissance along with Florence and Rome. He wanted to take Bubbles there at some point so she could walk in his exact footsteps. For now they were content to curl up on the Papasan chair and watch comedies.

They started out sitting beside one another, her legs draped across him, but that soon got uncomfortable so he situated her on his lap. Bubbles was actually into the movies but Boomer was way more interested in her, tugging one of her camisole straps down to nuzzle her shoulder and brushing her hair aside to kiss her neck. She forgot all about the TV as she relaxed into him, unbothered when her cami rode up and his hands splayed across her stomach. He felt every flex of her lithe abdominals responding to his touch, gradually moving down to her hip.

Before they started dating, Boomer overheard a lot of male classmates say that although Bubbles was cute she could never be sexy. She was too thin, her figure too boyish, but Boomer didn't see that. He saw a sylphide girl with slender legs and dainty hands who carried herself gracefully and confidently, and her facial features were much too feminine to ever mistake for a boy's. Maybe if Bubbles wore no makeup and threw her voice she could pass as androgynous, but she liked being a girly girl. It didn't make her weak, not in any sense of the word. Boomer knew how tough she really was beneath that soft, pretty exterior; she fucked his shit up when they fought as kids and still had the ability to do so. Her voice had been shrill enough when she sonic-screamed at him back then. He couldn't imagine how it sounded now that she had learned to control her vocal cords.

Currently, it was at a volume Boomer appreciated as she tittered in response to being felt up. His fingers crept beneath the waistband of her shorts while he kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear, making her shudder and squirm in his lap. "H-hey…" Bubbles tried and failed to sound stern, "you're supposed to be paying attention to this movie."

"I'd rather pay attention to you." His husky tone went straight between her legs. That was the moment she realized there was no valid reason to keep denying their mutual desires. Enough time had passed for Boomer to prove he was emotionally invested in her, not just hoping for an easy lay.

She faced him, wearing a sultry smile and batting her lashes. "Am I even worthy of so much attention?" Boomer only rolled his eyes. He tried distracting her with kisses as his hands sought her breasts, but it was impossible for Bubbles not to notice when his palms buzzed with nervous, excited energy. "You could just take off my bra," she partly suggested, partly requested. She couldn't help but laugh at how swiftly he removed it and her camisole, leaving her upper body exposed to his hungry lips. She sprawled across him, reveling in the blissful sensations elicited by Boomer lavishing her neck and chest with his mouth. "You could take off my shorts, too," she murmured.

Boomer paused to observe her while gathering his bearings. Her pulse was racing, breathing shallow, skin flushed, eyes half-lidded and brimming with want. She had never asked him to remove her clothes before, he just did when she didn't protest. After those shorts came off she'd be mostly naked in his lap, and Boomer knew he would not be able to resist his gorgeous girlfriend if she kept gazing at him like that, with her bedroom eyes. Bubbles bit her lip as he unfastened the button with one hand, sighing when he leaned over to kiss her. It was slow and sensual, successfully claiming her focus as he pulled down the zipper, then she giggled as he finagled the garment off her body with less finesse. "Are you laughing at me?" Boomer questioned, a mock threat in his tone.

"Yeah, you were so smooth up till now." A little moan escaped as he traced the outline of her labia through her panties.

"Still got you wet, though." The fabric was damn-near soaked. "Do you need some attention here?" Bubbles nodded and held her breath as they resumed making out. Her stomach clenched each time his fingers danced along the seams of her panties but he was teasing her, making her ache unbearable. She finally grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand inside, eliciting a smug chuckle. "Anyone ever tell you how hot you are when you're forceful?"

"I'll show you forceful if you don't touch me," Bubbles returned. Boomer thought about it for all of a second before diving in without any more pretense. She was the wettest, warmest, silkiest thing he'd ever felt, but it wasn't the act of fingering her that made his pants painfully restrictive. Her voice affected him in a way he'd never experienced, as if the butterflies in his gut migrated to his head and their fluttering wings made the sounds entering his ear reverberate in a pleasing manner. The higher her moans pitched, the more intense the sensation. So it was that when Boomer brought her to an intense climax, he had an unexpected orgasm as well.

"Holy fuck…" he breathed, shaking like a leaf. "Did you feel that?"

Bubbles needed a minute to come down from her high. "I felt you grinding on me if that's what you mean."

"Not that." Boomer hadn't even been aware of such motions. He blinked a few times to clear his head. "Don't laugh, but I just came from making you come."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't really get why it happened. " His brow furrowed in concentration. Without physical stimulation it had to be purely mental, right? Unless some aspect of her voice had a subconscious effect on his brain.

She hummed and stretched languidly, stroking his cheek with her thumb. "We could see if it happens again."

Boomer looked at her in surprise. "You wanna keep going?"

"Mhm. I want all of you."

The decisiveness of her tone made him giddy. Finally they could romantically express their feelings for one another. They drifted over to his bed where Bubbles liberated him from his clothing in between lengthy lip locks. Boomer's hands refused to stay in one place for too long, roving and groping with abandon. She was more methodical, caressing his shoulders, his chest, his back… He jumped a little when she squeezed his ass, giggling. Boomer found it attractive that Bubbles simply stated her desires and took some initiative since many of the girls he'd had relations with were shrinking violets who expected him to do all the work. It felt nice to be on the receiving end of physical affections for once, especially since that affection came from a fellow superhuman. They didn't have to hold back with each other.

Boomer sat on the edge of the mattress as Bubbles straddled his lap during their ongoing exploration of each other. Once every inch had been mapped and committed to memory, her turned them over so he was on top. Their kisses started out gentle but quickly became desperate to consume all of one another. She broke away to whisper his name and the next instant he was inside her, filling her, pleasure surging through her nerves like an electric current. "Holy fucking Christ…" Boomer groaned, only managing a few strokes before he faltered. "You feel… You feel like…" There was nothing tangible he could compare her to. "You're a goddess, Sugar."

She tittered, amused by his cursing. "And you feel divine." Perfect, even, like they were made to fit together. Bubbles tugged on his lower back to prompt him into action, letting her eyes fall shut as her heart soared. Boomer had her singing his praises in less than five minutes, drowning out his own moans that disappeared into the curve of her neck. He didn't have to add anything else to the mix but he wanted them to finish together, proving he was a veritable magician with his fingers. Bubbles saw so many stars he may as well have sent her into orbit. A string of muttered swear words brought her down to Earth in time to roll her hips with him until he stilled, panting.

"I… I love you," he spoke. "I'm so in love with you, Bubbles."

She donned a cheeky grin. "You're not just saying that 'cause we had sex, right?"

"No way." Boomer shook his head hard enough to discombobulate himself. "I'm serious, I love you. I'll do whatever it takes to prove—"

She silenced him with a kiss. "You already did. We wouldn't have made love unless it was already there." Bubbles booped the tip of his nose. "I love you, too."

That evening Butch heard Bubbles' tinny voice climbing even higher and louder in response to whatever his brother was doing to her. He sighed and drifted downstairs where he'd left his new TV in the living room, claiming the couch opposite Brick. "What happened with your game?" he inquired. "I know you're not interested in the news."

"Got kinda hard to play," Butch replied. "Bubbles is a screamer."

"A… what?" A shrill moan rang out just then and Brick looked at the ceiling in legitimate concern. "Is she okay?"

"She's a screamer," Butch reiterated. "Better get used to hearin' shit like that from now on." His sibling made a face of distaste. "Jeez, you're such a virgin and a prude. Our little bro has sex. He fucks. And apparently he knows what he's doin' unless she's faking. By the way, I'm in love with Buttercup."

It took Brick a moment to process that statement. "No, you're not."

"Yeah, I am," Butch insisted.

"Do you even know what love feels like?"

He nodded solemnly. "It feels like how I feel for her."

"Which is…?"

"Like she's the only girl in the whole world I see. I can't stop thinkin' about her. I tried and I couldn't do it." Butch zoned out, focused inward on his mental images. "I want her so bad. I wanna be with her more than anything. She's so strong and beautiful and amazin'. I love everything about her. I already took Antidote X for her once but I'd do it again. I'd give up my powers to be with her."

Brick stared at him. While far from poignant, Butch's confession made it apparent he harbored intense feelings for Buttercup, but giving up his powers for her? That seemed rather drastic not to mention unrealistic. She no longer took Antidote X before school not because she was rebelling but because she never wanted to in the first place; she only did it to avoid bringing more heat down on her family. The Powerpuff Girls were goddesses among mankind and deserved to be treated as such, undiminished in the slightest. Brick drew in a breath. "Butch… Do you really think you're the right person for her? She can't be another one of your conquests."

He sat forward wearing a serious expression. "It's not like that. I respect the hell outta Buttercup." Not that Butch didn't respect the other girls he had fucked, he just respected her enough to do more giving instead of taking.

"Okay, good. Have you told her that?"

"No, but I think she knows." Brick quirked an eyebrow, the judgy one. "I told her I admire her! That's like the same thing, right?"

"Not really," he refuted, "and if you can't work up the courage to say what you mean, how do you expect her to take you seriously?"

Butch's mouth opened and closed a few times before he got defensive. "Don't go callin' me a coward when you can't admit you got a crush on Blossom!"

"What about my sister?" Bubbles asked from the stairs, both boys spinning toward her. She was the picture of innocence if not for her post-coital glow. Boomer appeared sinfully proud of himself as he embraced her from behind. "You have a crush on Blossom, Brick?" she pressed.

"No, I don't! She's my friend! We're friends! Why is that such a hard concept for you people to grasp?!" He crossed his arms and fumed on the couch.

Bubbles laughed kindly. "If you don't like Blossom at least a little bit, then why're you always staring at her?"

"Great question, Sugar." Boomer rested his chin on her shoulder, smirking. "Why're you always staring at Blossom, Brick?"

"And blushing when you talk to her," she added.

"And blushing!"

"I'm not and I don't," Brick grumbled, then pointed at Butch. "He's hopelessly in love with Buttercup, you know."

Bubbles rolled her eyes. "Duh. You just now realized?"

"Is it that obvious?!" Butch cried.

"Uh-huh." She sat at the kitchen counter to browse their extensive collection of takeout menus, frowning at the fact that half of them were from pizzerias. "You guys eat way too much pizza. Let's get pho."

"Ooh, and sushi."

"Those are two different cuisines, Boomer," Brick commented.

Butch stood up to stretch and groan. "I'm goin' to hang out with the guys. See ya." His brothers hadn't even noticed he was no longer parading around in his underwear, and they were too stunned that he was leaving the house for once to bid him farewell.

"Have fun!" Bubbles waved, receiving one in response. She turned back to Boomer. "So can we get pho? And spring rolls?"

"Get whatever you want, Sugar." He kissed her so hard that she squeaked in surprise. "It won't be as good as you."

Brick retreated to his room before they made his teeth rot.

Butch found the Floyjoydson residence without issue. It stood out for being an ultra-modern amalgamation of glass, steel, and solar panels that had been built by the twins' architect mother and engineer father. Earlier that day, as Butch participated in an online fighting tournament with Floyd and Mitch, Mike popped on to propose they all get together and stream Buttercup's show from Miami Swim Week. It was actually Robin's idea, and initially they were going to gather at her house, but Floyd asserted that his family had the better home theater setup. Butch discovered that to be true when he joined everyone downstairs. There were speakers situated all around the room, recliners to sit in, and a 4K projector. Mitch brought snacks and drinks from the gas station where he worked, distributing them while Lloyd helped Robin connect her laptop to the projector. Once that was accomplished she signed in to access the livestream and claimed a chair next to Mike.

Before the show began they had to listen to some backstory on designer Rani Mishra, her summer collection, and certain models who would appear on the runway that night. Buttercup's name wasn't mentioned and that made Butch anxious. Shouldn't they be talking about her? She was a superhuman, surely a standout from the other girls. "I'm getting nervous," Mike admitted. "Buttercup's never walked before, right? She's only done photoshoots."

"Yeah, what if she falls?" Floyd broached. "I heard that happens sometimes."

Robin waved off their concerns. "She won't fall. She's got this."

They were about to see if that were the case. The announcers quieted, the lights dimmed, and the music faded in. Buttercup was the first model to step out and the sight of her stole Butch's breath away. He could feel the confidence she radiated from the other side of the country. When she reached the end of the catwalk she posed a few times for the cameras before heading back. "Hey…" Mitch rotated to address the others from his front-row seat. "Is it okay if I think her ass looks amazing right now?"

"It totally does," Lloyd agreed. "I think they put oil on it or something."

"Fuck, man. How do I get that job?"

That was the beginning of their running commentary. Robin's contributions typically consisted of "ooh, I like that one!" in regards to particular styles and colors, and she also made sure to mention the shoes. Mike listened attentively, imagining her in designer swimwear and stilettos. Floyd sat in absolute silence but occasionally let slip a hum of approval, usually at the same time Mitch said "she's hot".

"New drinking game," Lloyd declared after a few minutes. "Next time we stream a fashion show, take a shot whenever Mitch calls a model hot."

"We would die," Mike stated.

Mitch snickered. "Yeah you would. They're all hot."

Especially Buttercup; she was the only one Butch had eyes for. She appeared every ten cycles or so, overshadowing the girls she passed with sheer presence alone. She didn't just strut or stride, she marched down the runway as if heading into battle. Whenever she made eye contact with a camera, winking or smirking or lifting her chin, Butch felt as if she were looking directly at him. Taunting, enticing, challenging. "Come and get me," she said to him. By this point in time his lust had dwindled to a little beast tied up in the corner of his heart. Anytime Buttercup smiled or laughed in response to him, that was enough to sate it.

"Oh wow!" Robin exclaimed, pointing at the screen. "She's flying!"

Technically the Powerpuff was just hovering, but the audience still leapt to their feet with phones and cameras out to capture the stunning figure she presented. Buttercup resembled an empress of a bygone era in her outfit, a black monokini reminiscent of ancient armor complete with a single plated sleeve. The gladiator sandals on her feet were her very own. Atop her head was a jeweled diadem and slung about her arms was a flowing robe in blue, black, and green hues with crystal embroidery. Rani Mishra walked with her, beaming and waving. The announcers were mind-blown to see a model floating above the runway and kept repeating the same question into their mics: "Who is she?"

Floyd got up to disconnect the laptop. "Guess the show's over. Was it worth it, Robin?"

She sighed longingly. "Yeah, Buttercup was awesome. But now I really want one of those bikinis. They're so pretty but sooo expensive."

Robin's presumed pipe dream of owning a designer swimsuit came true when Buttercup arrived home the next day, jetlagged as hell but in possession of goodie bags from Paris and Miami. She gave Blossom a bottle of perfume, Bubbles some makeup, and Robin a gift certificate to the Rani Mishra boutique downtown. She promptly called Mike and asked if he wanted to help pick out a bikini, earning an emphatic yes. "If they don't get together after that, I'm out of ideas," Buttercup said. She yawned in the midst of dinner once again.

"I still cannot believe Rani knows Jean-Paul Gaultier and you walked for him at Paris Fashion Week." Bubbles squee'd. "My sister's gonna be famous!"

Blossom nodded in agreement. "All the fashion blogs are dying to figure out who you are. There's been a huge spike in keyword searches related to Miami Swim Week and Rani Mishra." She tilted her head. "Why hasn't your name been made public yet?"

Buttercup sighed. "Rani wants me to exclusively model for her the rest of the year, but my agency doesn't. They'd lose out on money if I'm only doing one long-term job instead of getting hired by multiple clients. It's tough being popular, I tell you." Her phone chimed with a text message and she groaned, then smiled. "The guys want me to come hang out tomorrow night."

"Will Butch be there?" Bubbles asked.

"Yeah. He's one of 'the guys', after all." Buttercup frowned at her sister's conspiratorial snicker. She spent most of the next day getting her sleep schedule back on track, waking up to a barrage of messages from Floyd asking what she wanted to eat and Mitch asking what she wanted to drink. You guys know what I like, she texted back. She then took a long, relaxing shower and got dressed in the most comfortable outfit she'd worn all July. At 17:00 she flew to the Floyjoydson home, spotting Butch's Porsche in the driveway behind the twins' car. Their parents' Tesla was absent meaning Mitch had brought booze. It was going to be a good night. "What's up, guys!" she shouted upon opening the front door.

"Hey, Butters!" Floyd called from the kitchen. "You're right on time! A batch of cookies with your name on them just came out of the oven."

"Sweet, thanks." She grabbed the tray and left him to continue working on dinner, spicy chicken curry it smelled like, heading upstairs where she found the other three boys in Lloyd's room playing video games. "You losers need a new hobby," she teased, grabbing a controller to replace the CPU currently hindering Mitch.

"Butters to the rescue!" he cheered. "You two're fucked now!"

"We'll see about that. Hey, can I have one of your fat cookies?" Buttercup slid the tray toward Lloyd.

"What's a fat cookie?" Butch wondered.

She indicated that he have one as well, and Mitch simply helped himself. "They're called that 'cause they're made with white and brown sugar, cocoa powder, chocolate chips, and shortening. Totally not good for you unless you're trying to gain weight."

"Don't you gotta stay in shape to be a model?" he then questioned.

She shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm fucking starving. You have no idea how crazy the last two weeks were for me."

Obviously they wanted to hear about it. Highlights included meeting Jean-Paul Gaultier for all of ten seconds, rocking a few of his corsets, going to an after-party and getting offered coke, running into her bitchy roommates from her study abroad program, getting hit on by no less than ten other models during the flight to Miami, getting yelled at for eating before Rani's show, and being hounded by press while attempting to fly home.

"There wouldn't happen to be a video of that haute couture segment, would there?" Lloyd inquired.

Buttercup tutted. "Of course there is, it's Gaultier. He always gets coverage." Mitch chuckled, rousing her suspicions. "Why do you ask?"

"I came up with this idea for a new drinking game. Hear me out…" She thought it was brilliant and even added her own rules. One shot if Mitch called a model hot, two shots if they tripped or stumbled, three shots if they fell or had a wardrobe malfunction.

The five friends had the good sense to eat first. Buttercup forgot how good of a cook Floyd was; some girl would be very happy with him in the future. She was also reminded why she'd developed a crush on Lloyd in junior high; he was funny and charming, always the life of the party. As the newest member of the group, Butch had to undergo a rite of passage by swearing to uphold the secret of how Mitch acquired booze, but it didn't involve any daring deeds. He worked at the 24-hour gas station across from the Citiesville bridge, his boss got loaded and fucked up inventory orders all the time, and Mitch appropriated the excess stock. Then Butch had to take a shot of Everclear which he did so straight-faced. "Well that's disturbing," Floyd remarked. "I don't think I'm going to like drinking with you. Also, it should go without saying that you can't tell our folks we get wasted whenever they're out of town. And don't tell Professor U, either."

Butch's lips were sealed. His experience with alcohol was about the same as he had with drugs: very little. He didn't know what he liked, but he knew it'd affect him differently because of his biology. He never pictured Buttercup as the type to imbibe, either. She was a Powerpuff Girl, a morally upstanding paragon of justice! But apparently she had an affinity for tequila and he was curious to see if she'd end up on the floor. Turned out he was partial to whiskey, the same as Mitch. They finished off a half-gallon of Jack Daniels together before the fashion show even ended, but Mitch called every model hot just to get his friends drunk faster. Butch thought Buttercup looked just as fierce in haute couture as she did swimwear. The makeup, the hair, the accessories… There was more artistry involved, but it wasn't really wearable, functional fashion like her monokini. Seeing her in a metallic corset, though… That was a treat.

They found a few more Fashion Week videos to keep the game going. Floyd was the first to throw in the towel since he was a lightweight, and Mitch conked out on the floor next. Lloyd put on a bad movie and fell asleep to it around midnight, but Buttercup and Butch kept nursing their bottles until two in the morning when the former stood up to grab a snack and wobbled precariously. "You feelin' it?" Butch asked. Evidently alcohol didn't affect him in the least, which was kind of disappointing.

"Yep, and it feels goood." She flopped onto the vacant couch in the den, nudging Mitch with her foot as he snored loudly.

Butch eyed her from his chair. "Why'd you wanna drink tonight?"

"You guys really have no clue how stressful my job is," Buttercup answered. "Backstage, behind the runway, it's a complete clusterfuck. People are touching me and bumping into me, stylists keep fucking with my hair and telling me to change out of clothes or shoes I just put on, and some girls talk shit about me for no reason! Like, what the fuck did I do to them?! I don't even know them!"

"They're jealous you're prettier than them," Butch said matter-of-factly.

She only laughed and downed the last few drops from the third bottle of tequila she'd had all to herself, letting it fall to the carpet. A couple minutes later it hit in full force and she groaned as her head began throbbing. Buttercup closed her eyes for however long, then they popped open when something cold and damp landed on her forehead. A washcloth. She had to crane her neck to view Butch kneeling with his elbows on the armrest, his eyes so shadowed she could only discern a hint of their color. How funny… Once upon a time he'd been a tall, dark, and handsome stranger who hit on her at an MMA gym. Now he watched over her as she slowly sank into oblivion. "I'm not gonna be pretty in the morning, I'm gonna look like shit."

"Don't think it's possible for you to look like shit," Butch countered. "You're too beautiful."

Buttercup rolled her eyes at the compliment. "No one's too beautiful. We're all ugly in some way."

"Not you."

"What makes me pretty then, huh?" His mouth opened and she flailed one hand. "Don't say 'everything' again 'cause that's bullshit!"

He scoffed. "Fine. Your hair. I like your undercut."

"Thanks, me too. Anything else?"

The way Butch spoke next made her shiver. His voice was too deep to really whisper, coming out low and gravelly instead. "Your eyes."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And I like your lips. They're so… poofy."

Rani liked her big, full lips as well, saying they made her smirk so effective due to the superiority she conveyed. Buttercup asserted that she didn't consider herself better than anyone, especially normal people, but Rani wanted her to wear the 'Hera' set for the show finale because she thought Buttercup embodied the essence of her collection, the divine feminine made flesh, a supreme queen among gods and mortals. It felt weird to be deified like that. She was just a girl, a girl with superpowers but a regular person nonetheless. She wanted the same things as other girls her age: a loving and supportive family, trustworthy friends, social acceptance, recognition for her talents, and to meet someone she could fall in love with. Buttercup was sometimes self-conscious for not yet having been in a romantic relationship at almost eighteen, but she didn't want to settle for guys who didn't meet her four requirements. Lloyd had been up for consideration numerous times but he was often going out with other girls. Then there was that whole issue of everyone seeing her in a new light after she started modeling. She thought her friends would be happy for her, not suddenly express the desire to sleep with her.

And then… Butch. He confused the hell out of Buttercup. She couldn't determine if his overtly sexual comments meant he wanted her or he was just trying to get a rise out of her. Placing himself between her and Joey had proven he valued her friendship more, but it really seemed like he had ambitions of starting a more-than-friendly relationship with her. It didn't matter how attracted to her Butch was. She didn't want to be another notch on someone's belt, and if he couldn't prove that he cared about more than her outward appearance, she would never consider him boyfriend material.

That's how Buttercup thought when she was sober, but right now the majority of her inhibitions had been banished by hard liquor. She gave Butch what she hoped was a coquettish smile. "You like my lips, huh? You wanna kiss 'em?"

He shook his head once. "I don't mess with drunk chicks."

"Well, permission granted. I consent. Kiss me." He denied her again and her brow knitted. "Why not? Don't you wanna?"

"When I kiss you, I want you to remember it," he said.

She grinned. "I will if it's good. C'mon, do it. I know you wanna." She placed a hand on his neck to try bringing him down to her. "Be my first kiss."

Butch resisted the pull. "I wanna be your first and only, Buttercup."

Ugh, those words put her stomach in knots. She didn't know if it was elated butterflies or the tequila fighting back, and her vision had gotten a lot darker. He was so hard to see but she sensed him there, looking at her with such longing it had to hurt. "Butch," she managed to articulate, "do you even… Are you in…?"

"Am I in love with you?" Her fingers slipped off his neck. "Yeah."

Buttercup didn't catch that last bit since she had fallen unconscious. Butch finally admitted it but he waited until she couldn't hear his confession because he really was a coward like Brick said. Things were better this way. He would rather keep pining for her in secret than lose her as a friend altogether.