Enjoy

The click of heels was a faint but consistent sound in the chaos surrounding them. Buttercup's heart thumped to an irregular beat as she struggled to suck in enough air. She choked on the smoke wafting towards her and retreated deeper into the alley.

Sedusa was just ten feet away, parading in front of Townsville Bank like she was a model and the sidewalk was her runway. She flaunted a mane of wild dark hair, wore a plunging red jumpsuit, and ordered her men around with the flick of a well-manicured nail. It was both irritating and insulting that she'd come dressed to impress. As if a bank robbery was just another celebratory social event. As if she didn't intend to fight. As if the Puffs would never get close.

Buttercup stilled her trembling hands and inched forward, clinging to the alley walls. This was her first mission since announcing her active return to the Puffs a month ago. She'd trained, for longer than her muscles could handle, and still there was a voice in her mind announcing her inadequacy.

She peered out from her hiding spot. There were four men in total: two hauling the money into a car, and two keeping the Puffs at bay.

Buttercup took a slow step forward, but flung herself back when a column of flames struck her hiding spot. Her eyes filled up and she pressed her fist into her mouth. It did little to muffle her groans – her knuckles were singed.

That.

That was why Buttercup still doubted herself. What could she do against men with flamethrowers? How could she fight against fire?

"Buttercup! Buttercup! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Buttercup rasped in reply to Bubble's cries. "You can see me? Where are you?" she asked into their communication unit, squinting, but the smoke was now too thick.

Buttercup couldn't stay here; her view was cut off. If Sedusa's men came near, she wouldn't know until she'd been lit on fire. "Never mind. I'll find you." Buttercup glanced around the alley. There wasn't much of an option when it came to escape, it was either out or up.

She jogged towards the nearest bin and scrambled onto its lid. On her tiptoes, she was able to reach the windowsill and hauled herself up. Buttercup struggled to find purchase as she continued to climb, clinging onto rusting pipes and digging her fingers into the eroding cracks between bricks.

By the time she reached the roof, her hands were scuffed, bleeding, and singed. Buttercup was grateful for her battle suit, which had at least protected her body from cuts and scrapes. The Professor had prepared some sort of high-density polymerised kevlar for easy mobility and increased protection. Bubbles had revealed that the suit was capable of withstanding a lot, especially when it came to blunt force trauma, but Buttercup wasn't too clear on what 'a lot' meant — she'd never tested it herself.

"I see you Bubbles," Buttercup inched towards the edge of the roof. The blue puff was hunched behind a black Volvo across the street from Buttercup's alley. She practically blended into the darkness with her battle suit and soot covered curls. If it weren't for the flash of a near fluorescent blue line along her arms, Buttercup would have missed her. "That's really not the best hiding spot. Can't you find anything less flammable than a car with a tank full of gas?"

"I can't leave." Bubbles replied. Her voice sounded raw and strained; she'd probably damaged her throat hacking on the gathering smoke. Buttercup guessed she wasn't able to use her sonic scream in that condition. "I can't see where I'm going. What if they're waiting for me?"

Buttercup scanned the area. The flamethrower was focused on her alleyway. "It's all clear." Buttercup noticed that Sedusa's men were gathering the last of their duffel bags. This was her first mission; it couldn't end without her even getting close. "Sedusa is packing up. We need to go now."

"Alright. Okay." Bubbles refused to budge from her crouch. "Just…are you sure it's all clear? I really can't see more than a few steps in front of –"

"Get a grip." Buttercup snapped. "I said it's clear, so it's clear. The flame thrower is in the alley beside me – you're fine."

There was silence on the line, and then, "…where's the other one?"

Buttercup froze. There were two flamethrowers. There were two. She swept the area. Where was the other one? And where, exactly, was Blossom?

"Are you there Blossom?" Silence. "I've been calling the shots for the past few minutes," Buttercup continued, "aren't you going to point out what I'm doing wrong?"

The silence spread across seconds, until Buttercup's concern darkened to dread. Exactly how long had Blossom been offline? Why hadn't she noticed sooner?

"When the flamethrowers attacked, Blossom and I split up. We just… I don't know, we just ran in opposite directions!" Bubbles was beginning to sound frantic. If she spoke any louder, she'd draw the flamethrower's attention. "Maybe… maybe he followed her. Buttercup, maybe that's why the second man's missing. He went after Blossom!"

"Yeah. I figured. Keep it down," she hissed. Bubbles was still hiding behind that freaking car; Buttercup wouldn't be of any help if the thing exploded.

She took a deep breath and scanned the area again, slowly. If Bubbles and Blossom had run in opposite directions, then Blossom would have gone… towards the park.

Buttercup stood, tiptoed, and craned her neck, but leaves obstructed her view and the angle was skewed —she couldn't see anything beyond the oak trees. "Okay… so we can't contact her. But we can't assume anything either, good or bad." She couldn't let Sedusa escape just because Blossom went AWOL; the pink puff could handle herself even on a bad day. "It's probably nothing," Buttercup added. She felt like it had to be said aloud.

"…You're not thinking of leaving her? Right Buttercup?"

Bubble's tone was one that she'd never heard before; a mixture of suspicion and caution.

Maybe Buttercup's plan was a bit harsh after all. Possibly too harsh. "No way. I meant that you should go and back her up. Search the park. I'll handle things here."

"Alright." Bubbles replied. "But are you, you know, sure you can really fight all of them alone?"

Buttercup stepped onto the edge of the roof and peered down into her alley. The smoke had mostly dissipated and the flamethrower was finally beginning to realise that no one was wedged behind the dumpsters.

"It's just two henchmen and a dude with a glorified lighter." She didn't count Sedusa as a threat. The woman might be able to compel men to do her bidding, but even if Buttercup magically transformed into a guy, she'd never be drawn to Sedusa's bare-all fashion style.

Buttercup dropped onto the wheelie bin. The clash was more powerful than she'd anticipated, and so was the pain. What had seemed like a few feet climbing up, had clearly been a few meters. Her ankle twinged at the impact.

The shuffle of feet caught her attention, and Buttercup snapped her head up. It looked like the flamethrower had taken the bait. "I've got this. Go when it's clear."

And then she ran.

Buttercup bolted down the center of the road, keeping away from Bubble's black Volvo. Her feet smacked against the pavement, and she pumped her arms hard, pushing through the flares of pain that sparked in her ankle. Shaky breaths ripped from her throat and all she could hear was the thumping of her own heart; in front of her was Sedusa, behind her was a searing heat.

She couldn't quite place what she was feeling. Was it fear or excitement? Anxiety or adrenaline? Buttercup only knew that she'd missed this sensation. She felt the most alive when a threat was on her heels.

The flamethrower was slowing down; Buttercup could no longer hear the harsh, incessant clank of the metal tanks strapped to his back. Instead, it was a dull thud. She glanced around. The flamethrower had slowed to a jog, and Bubbles was entering the park at a sprint.

Buttercup slowed her pace.

She hardly needed a plan for Sedusa's level of criminal. Although the flamethrower would be difficult to attack, she firmly believed she could win this battle without an over-complicated, long-winded strategy. She had to get Sedusa. So her 'plan'?

Charge.

Buttercup picked up her pace, running past a shop with tinted windows. She saw the fire before she felt the heat. Reflected in the windows was a stream of flames. The heat prickled the back of her neck, but she pushed harder; she was at least 30 meters away, she was fast, she was far, she was fine.

But the stream wasn't weakening, it didn't slow or wane, instead it seemed to inflate into a tunnel of flames. Buttercup lunged sideways. She hit the ground in a hard roll, and scrambled to hide behind the nearest car.

Buttercup sucked in deep breaths and silently thanked the Professor. Normally, that landing would have left her with a bruised hip and multiple grazes. And right now, she couldn't allow anything to slow her down. Buttercup's chest heaved and she choked on the now smoke filled air. She didn't have the time to fight this guy.

The flamethrower didn't pause. He sprayed a continuous stream in all directions, leaving small dwindling fires scattered across the road. Buttercup rose to a crouch and swiped her sweaty bangs aside. She smacked her fist against the car, but the thud was too low, he hadn't heard over the roar of his weapon.

She needed an explosion, something loud and flashy enough to cover her exit. She didn't want to risk a run at the moment and get caught in fire. Buttercup smacked the car again, harder, and the alarm blared. The flame thrower spun around and a column of flames hit the car. Buttercup skittered back. Seconds later it exploded.

She bolted. She wanted to turn around and see if he'd been caught in the explosion, but she couldn't slow her pace, Sedusa wouldn't wait patiently for her to arrive and kick her butt. Instead, Buttercup strained her ears, but couldn't hear anything other than a roaring fire.

She wasn't comfortable with the uncertainty. But still, she faced forwards. At least now she had time to deal with Sedusa.