Enjoy
Buttercup saw nothing but orange flames, and then, nothing but orange hair.
"Blossom?" Her tone was humiliating – squeaky and panicked. Buttercup cleared her throat, but then decided on silence. She couldn't be certain her voice wouldn't shake.
Blossom stood with her back to Buttercup in an identical black battle suit. The fluorescent pink lines along her arms shone as the fire barrelled closer. And then Blossom exhaled.
Fire met ice, creating a wave of steam that washed over the entire area. Buttercup tensed as the mist drifted around her. It was hot enough to make her flinch – the pain very close to a scalding burn. She backed away, out of the steam, and wondered how long Blossom could handle the brunt of the burn.
She needed to take out the flamethrower.
She glanced back and Sedusa had started her car.
Buttercup reached for her communication unit, hoping to contact Bubbles, but her ear was empty. "Shit," she muttered. It'd probably been dislodged around the same time her nose had been relocated to the far right of her face.
She had no way of knowing Bubbles' current location, no way of knowing how long Blossom could tolerate the steam, and no idea how long she could exhale without a pause. The flamethrower just needed to press a button, but Blossom would need to take another breath.
The pink puff wasn't in a position to stop.
Buttercup sighed, heavily, and ran back into the vapour. The stream of fire was enough to light and lead her way. She gritted her teeth against the scorch of the steam until she arrived at its source. Launching forward, she struck with a kick. The flamethrower crumpled to the floor and Buttercup landed in a crouch, right in front of a feminine fist.
"Wait, wait," she put her hands up as a head of platinum waves began to peek through the vapour. "It's me Bubbles."
"…Buttercup?"
"Uh huh. This way." She grabbed the blonde's wrist and swiftly steered them out of the steam. Maybe Bubbles would be able to use her sonic scream now. Maybe Sedusa's car had stalled, or a fallen lamppost had crushed the engine, or nails had popped the tires – maybe she wasn't too late.
Buttercup scanned the area.
But the car was gone.
She dropped Bubble's wrist. It felt like the entire day had been a freaking waste of time. She'd pinned so much hope on winning. This fight was going to prove, without a doubt, that she'd made the right choice re-joining missions. Despite wanting this, her presence clearly hadn't made a positive difference.
"What happened to Sedusa?" Bubbles asked. "…Is that blood?"
Buttercup swiped at her upper lip.
"Are you okay?"
"Just perfect." Buttercup glanced towards the road. "I lost Sedusa. She's long gone." Buttercup's skin was beginning to sting. Her face felt tight and tender, apparently due to the steam, Bubbles' face had become red and blotchy too. "We need to get Blossom –"
The pink puff stalked out of the vapour. She gave Bubbles and Buttercup a quick once over before scanning the area. "Sedusa?"
Buttercup felt no desire to answer; it was more of a demand than a question anyway. She lowered herself onto the steps of Townsville bank.
"She… escaped." Bubbles said.
Blossom's lips thinned into a fine line, her eyes darting towards Buttercup.
Like hell this was just her fault. "What? You do realise that Sedusa's escape was a team effort, right?" Blossom was unscathed. Buttercup had expected raw skin, blisters, and burns, but her sister seemed unaffected by the same heat that had stung Buttercup's own skin. Her ice breath must have protected her in some way. "You don't have a single injury. If you were so eager to catch Sedusa, you should have come running. Instead, you were cornered by one guy."
"You say all that, but it sounds like you're also feeling guilty," Blossom said, her lips were chapped and patches of ice were flaking off. "If that's the case, good. We were an embarrassment today – hardly a team. I heard that you chose to face Sedusa alone."
"Yeah. So Bubbles could go and save your ass," Buttercup replied, her chin pitched as high as her eyebrow. She couldn't be faulted for that.
"I don't believe that was your only reason." Blossom's iris' held an eerie intensity, as if she was seeing more than was being revealed. Maybe she knew that Buttercup had been eager to fight Sedusa one on one. Or maybe Blossom was just angry that she'd failed at a task. Either way, Buttercup found those stark pink iris' unnerving. She always had.
She sat up straight. "Okay. Yeah. I wanted to fight Sedusa alone, and I sent Bubbles packing, and I didn't try and call for back up. So what? You made it possible for me to 'screw up' when you vanished."
"I'm well aware that I wasn't around to correct your mistakes. That is my mistake. But you two need to be aware that the objective always comes first. Before me and before yourselves. We're heroes, and if we must sacrifice ourselves then we will. We all knew this going in. There is no argument on this point."
Blossom's righteous tone left Buttercup with an urge to roll her eyes. Hero or not, she wouldn't give her life for a few sacks of money. Nor would she give Bubble's or Butch's, but after today, she might re-think Blossom's. It was clearly what the pink puff had wanted.
"'Correct my mistakes', huh?" She muttered. "Please. You completely missed my point there."
Blossom folded her arms. "And it seems like you missed mine."
"It's okay girls," Bubbles said, flashing a small smile. "We'll just get Sedusa next time. I mean, we all made mistakes today – even the Professor! Our communication units were just so flimsy and inconvenient, so they'll need a huge upgrade if we ever plan to use them again." She glanced at both girls. "So maybe we shouldn't really blame ourselves or each other?"
"I'm not blaming myself," Buttercup retorted. At first it had sounded like Bubbles was supporting her, but no. Bubbles was sitting on the fence, like Bubbles always did; the side with the least conflict.
"Okay then. That's good…I just thought I should say it." Bubbles said.
"Right." Buttercup stood up. "So Blossom, should I just wait around with all this physical pain while you pile on the emotional harm? Or can I go and get treated?"
Blossoms' brow furrowed. "We have all had a long day." Then she turned to Bubbles and the ice in her tone melted. "So we should go home and receive some medical treatment. I'm sure the Professor would be glad to receive extra data on his battle suits."
Buttercup lingered a few feet behind the girls as they began to walk. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, each step lit a flash of pain in her ankle. It was difficult to ignore. In time it muddled together with the throbbing ache in each region of her face.
It occurred to Buttercup, that if she'd had complete control of her super strength, she wouldn't have needed her sisters at all.
The odour of smoke and gasoline still hung in the air. Buttercup had washed her hair twice this morning, using both orange and lemon scented shampoos. But the acrid whiff couldn't be disguised.
She sagged into the couch, and rested her head on the back pillows.
"Buttercup, I think your hair is still a bit damp," Bubbles said, rounding the couch with two letters in hand. She placed them on the table beside her cup of steaming peppermint tea. "Maybe you should dry it?"
It wasn't as if water was dripping down her back. Besides, she'd been feeling a twinge in her ankle since yesterday's mission. She wanted to stay off her feet as much as possible so she could get back to training with Butch. "It's fine Bubbles." Buttercup cringed. The hulking cast across her nose had warped her voice. It sounded particularly unappealing, like she had a chest cold and her nostrils were clogged.
"Alright," Bubbles waited a beat, "but, you know, Blossom doesn't like the couch to get wet. It's a cotton blend, so it'll smell if it's not dried properly…" she pressed. Bubbles seemed worried about another argument erupting. But Buttercup had years of distaste towards Blossom. In her younger years, the Ice Queen wasn't just bossy, but controlling. If some well-spoken words didn't keep Buttercup in place, then the pinch technique would.
And Blossom wasn't much different now. She expected her orders to be followed, if not, she'd just find the right buttons to push. It was Blossom's skill in emotional manipulation that had convinced Buttercup to take part in Townsville Bulletin's interview after all.
So, yeah, there was a high chance that an argument would break out. Buttercup wasn't anyone's puppet. Whether Blossom was mad about the damp chair, or whether Blossom was simply breathing, chances were she'd piss off Buttercup.
"It's fine Bubbles," she said again, dismissing the blonde's worries and snatching up the letters beside the steaming tea. "These for me?" She didn't know anyone who would send her, of all people, a letter, of all things.
The first was an envelope made of decorative board, inside was a glossy A6 sheet made of similar material. It was sprinkled with silver swirls and the message was written in a burnt orange calligraphy, it read:
Celebrate life.
You are hereby invited to our masked ball, hosted on account of our Lady's recent rescue. Join us as we rejoice in honour of her mysterious saviour and her new lease on life.
Princess Persephone Morbucks.
Buttercup snorted. It was just like Princess to milk a bad situation. It had been over a month since the girl had been 'kidnapped' – and Buttercup used that word lightly – Morbucks was unconscious for most of her ordeal, and the Ganggreen gang hadn't even made it to their hideout.
She skimmed the message again. 'Mysterious saviour'. Buttercup's part in the rescue had been all over the news, so there was no way that Princess was referring to her. She must mean Butch.
Buttercup shook her head. It was ridiculous; Princess had no idea that she was throwing a party in honour of a Ruff.
But the longer Buttercup scanned the message, the higher her irritation climbed. She tossed the card aside. It was addressed to the Powerpuff Girls anyway, so she didn't shoulder all the responsibility to give a crap.
Bubbles placed her tea down and glanced between Buttercup and the decorative letter. "Is it something bad?"
She shrugged, asking herself the same question. What, exactly, was bad about this party? Princess didn't know the true identity of her 'mysterious saviour', and no one was forcing Buttercup to attend, so why was she so irritated?
Bubbles' squeal signalled that she'd read the invite. She flipped the card around, scanning the time and date.
"You could probably attend if you butter up Bloss for the next few days," Buttercup said. In truth, Blossom would insist that at least one of them attend, and Buttercup wanted to ensure it wouldn't be her. The red head would view the party as a PR opportunity; a chance to mingle, form connections, and uphold their positive reputations with Townsville's 'best'. Buttercup honestly preferred field missions.
"I have a few new outfits in my wardrobe, and lots of left over material from our last shopping trip…"
Her voice drifted off and so did Buttercup's attention. She picked up the other letter. It was a plain envelope addressed simply to 'B' – which could be any of the girls in this household. Buttercup already found the sender of this letter to be a major pain. She skipped to the bottom, the name 'Bart Madden' was scrawled in black ink with an arrow pointing downwards.
"Maybe you can come?" Bubbles asked, her voice unnecessarily loud.
"What?"
"Princess' masked ball?" Her eyebrows rose. "Maybe… maybe we can have that girls' night?"
Buttercup was certain she'd done nothing to signal that she was even remotely interested in Princess' party. It was moments like these that made her question whether Bubbles had the level of perceptiveness needed to even be a hero.
"No." There was no other way to put it. "Maybe some other time," she added in a mutter. She was partly hoping Bubble's hadn't heard the offer. Buttercup had been delaying their sibling bonding for the better part of a month, and her empty promises were beginning to weigh on her.
Bubbles sipped on her tea a few times, her face unreadable. It was odd, she had never been one to hide or mask her emotions. She was always extremely expressive, to the point of causing second-hand embarrassment in many of Buttercup's experiences, but now, she seemed expressionless.
"No thank you," Bubbles said staring into her mug. "We don't need to." Her tone was miserable. That was when Buttercup realised that expression wasn't empty, it was disappointment. Bubbles had given up.
"…Right." Buttercup didn't know how to fix that. She couldn't give a day or time. There was always something more important than having a playdate with Bubbles—a training session, a mission, a Mitch problem – it wasn't intentional. "Okay then."
She pushed it to the back of her mind and dug through the plain envelope in her hands, following Madden's arrow. Her fingertips grazed against something smooth and soft.
Between her thumb and forefinger she held a lock of dark hair, tied together with a blue string. She made a sound of disgust and pushed it towards Bubbles. "This is definitely for you. Congrats on being his favourite Puff." From the moment Buttercup had seen the Amoeba kid, she'd known he was weird as hell.
Bubbles paused and slowly reached for the letter. "He's just a bit… different." She still hadn't touched his lock of hair.
Buttercup dropped it on the table. He wasn't different. He was downright creepy. Whether the guy was 12 or 24, it was an off-kilter thing to do. Bubbles shouldn't have encouraged him at the mall. And come to think of it, maybe Buttercup shouldn't have sent those –
"Flowers? He's thanking you for the buttercups in his letter." Bubble's face lit up. "You liked my idea? You really sent them?"
"…Yeah. Not a big deal." It was cheesy. Buttercup delivering buttercups. Even so, she'd sent a bouquet once a week, every week, since her interview with Pauline. Now though, she was regretting it.
"It's a goodbye letter," Bubbles said. "He's saying that he'll be out of the hospital soon and will be leaving town. The lock of hair is a keepsake so we won't forget him. The thought is very sweet." But even as Bubble's said that she used her cup to scoot the tuft further away. "Very sweet," she repeated.
Buttercup raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Should I put it in your room for you? Maybe on your bedside table?"
"No." Bubbles squeaked. "Uh, no thank you."
"But you can't throw out a gift from your number one fan," Buttercup pointed out with a smirk; Bubbles had always been too easy to mess with.
When Bubbles went mute, Buttercup reached for the remote and switched on the television. This moment, right here, should count as them hanging out. But Bubbles seemed to prefer something fun and fancy. She had a lot of expectations for someone who just wanted to 'spend time together'.
"Good. You're both here." Blossom's voice drifted down from the stairway.
Buttercup groaned and switched off the TV. It wasn't like she'd be watching anything now.
Blossom arrived and stood directly in front of the screen; surprise, surprise. "We need to…" her gaze drifted over the wet patch on the couch cushions, "talk," she finished, voice dropping an octave. "Butch has been with us for a while now. I'd like to hear your thoughts on him."
Buttercup glanced at Bubbles. It was the same topic they'd discussed six weeks ago. Was Blossom finally on the same page? "He's a decent guy. Why do you ask?"
"I'm rethinking our plans." Blossom glanced between the girls. "Yesterday proved that we're lacking as a unit, but our individual strengths have improved greatly. Enough so, that we can stand on our own. We have no more use for Butch."
"So… what? You're throwing him in jail?" It was their plan from the start; use him then dump him. But it didn't sit right with her.
"Of course," Blossom said. "I'll sort out the details tomorrow morning. I'll be meeting with Townsville Bulletin."
Buttercup got a flash of Pauline's smarmy grin; her skin crawled.
"He can't be imprisoned," Buttercup pointed out, "the Mayor's ban still stands." She felt a small spark of victory in the pit of her stomach. Butch was decent. And this was messed up.
"That's exactly why I'm meeting with the press, instead of the Mayor. We'll warn Townsville that a Rowdyruff is in town and explain that he's a threat, a danger to their families and loved ones." She nodded slowly. Buttercup could tell she was already planning her speech, selecting just the right words to tug at the public's heartstrings. "The Mayor will be forced to abolish his ban on public demand."
Blossom had no reason to back out of this plan. It would work. If Butch even tried to reveal their part in his captivity, it would most likely fall on deaf ears; a criminal's word, against Townsville's heroes. Butch had no leverage he could use against them.
"Um, Blossom," Bubbles began, "Why do we need to do this? I mean, Butch… he hasn't really done anything wrong?"
"He can't be trusted." Blossom said. "I know nothing about him."
"His brother's a freaking monster. And he just wants a fresh start," Buttercup's mouth was moving before her brain could catch up. "I sure as hell trust him." She'd spoken out of irritation: at Blossom for making a decision before their conversation was even over, at Bubbles for making a factual statement into a question, at herself for having a sense of justice strong enough to defend a Rowdyruff.
Blossom watched Buttercup for longer than was comfortable – probably for both of them. "Which means you're vouching for him." She still hadn't blinked. "Any issues that arise because of him will be your responsibility. Because right now, I'm trusting you, Buttercup, not Butch."
Blossom's words placed a burden on her shoulders. Still, she held her head up. "So… he's free?"
"He's whatever he chooses to be."
Buttercup had good news to deliver.
I know, a long wait. But the bright side? Longest chapter till date!