CHAPTER 33: EMOTIONALLY-DRIVEN WOLVES

ME: Guess what this chapter holds, everyone?

BUTTERCUP: Stupidity?

ME: What...? No! Or...maybe—if that's the readers' opinions—

BUTCH: Yeah, yeah. So what does it hold?

ME: *jazz hands* Romance!

BRICK: *gags* Don't we have enough of that already?

ME: ...No. Fans are asking for more. You're just jealous because your amnesia in the story prevents you from having a moment with Blossom.

BRICK: What!? No way!

BLOSSOM: Umm... *blushes*

ME: Don't worry, Brick. You'll have your time to shine with Bloss someday.

BRICK: *yelling* Kuku!

ME: *not listening* I don't own PPG; they belong to Cartoon Network and Craig McCracken! I just own my OC's and the story. *pats Ross on the head* This guy shows up!

ROSS: Umm...yay...?

BLASTER: Leave a review, please!

BRICK: Kuku, take that back! Take back your stupid words!

Chapter 33: Emotionally-Driven Wolves

If there was one thing Butch was sure about at the moment, it was that no matter what was happening, school was still boring. War was looming over his head, his brother had amnesia, his friendships were at risk, and he had conflicting emotions about what Ross had said to him before. Yet that didn't change the fact that shook still failed to catch his attention.

At the moment, he and Buttercup were in detention. Neither had really spoken, thanks to what had happened when Butch grabbed her hands during the weekend and what he had said*. That seemed to be a good thing though, because they had been productive throughout detention and Mr. Fickleson seemed pleased.

Butch wrote down one more thing for their project, and then he turned to stare at the clock. It struck 5:00 and he let out a silent cheer, jumping up eagerly.

"You're dismissed," Mr. Fickleson called, not even looking up from his paper.

Butch packed quickly and dashed toward the door, but hung back and waited for Buttercup to catch up. She seemed to notice this, because she took her time packing up her bag. Butch tapped his foot impatiently, but he forced himself to wait.

When she couldn't hold going to the door off any further, she sighed and walked toward him. Butch stood up straighter and blocked her way. "Buttercup," he began.

"What is it?" She looked up, not with wary eyes, but tired ones.

"I think our last conversion was a little awkward, and our last few conversations were pretty dramatic."

"Yeah, it's not like I didn't notice," she mumble back, shifting her bag.

Butch sighed. Buttercup was making this harder than it needed to be. "Well, maybe we can just hang out today. And talk about some casual stuff. We won't talk about secrets, our project, the past, love, or debate things, or talk slash worry about Brick's amnesia. We'll just stroll around and get caught up. How's about it?"

Buttercup looked up in surprise. She stared into his green eyes and seemed to notice the sincerity, because she nodded. "Sure."

"Cool." Butch zipped up his coat. "I'm going to my locker, and I'm guessing you'll go to yours. Meet me at the front of the school in a couple of minutes."

"'Kay, see ya." Buttercup waved, watching him fly off. Then she sighed and flew to her own locker.

Butch gathered his things in three minutes and flew back to the front of the school. Buttercup appeared a few seconds after him. When she showed up, he asked, "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know." Buttercup shrugged. "Like, the park, maybe?"

"Sure." Butch kept himself from feeling frustrated at her unenthusiastic tone. He knew she was dealing with a lot of stress, and so was he. All Butch wanted was to be able to rewind for the day.

They flew into the sky and towards the park, which didn't take too long. Townsville Park, the city's largest park, wasn't too far from Pokey Oaks High. It took them only a minute or two, especially thanks to their super-speed.

Butch landed and gazed around. Couples, families, and friends hung around the area. "Anything specific you want to do?" he asked.

Buttercup shook her head. "I just wanted to feel some fresh air. I guess we can take a walk."

"Alright." Butch started walking. He glanced back and suggested, "Maybe we can go see the duck pond."

"Sure." Buttercup smiled slightly. "There's a donut and drink shop near the pond. We could stop for a snack."

Butch relaxed, relieved to see that the green Puff wouldn't be emotionless for the entire walk. "Race ya there," he said, grinning. "Loser buys the winner donuts and a drink. Bet I can beat you!" He floated into the air, before blasting off.

"Oh, you wish!" Buttercup exclaimed, zooming up close to him. The two pushed each other for fun, trying to nudge their way forward. In the end, Buttercup won.

As she boasted, Butch rolled his eyes and smirked, "I just let you win 'cause you were in such a funk."

"Whatever makes you feel better, Mr. Macho," Buttercup responded, poking Butch in the chest. "You owe me donuts, and a drink."

"Alright, alright." Butch pulled out his wallet and fished through it. He pulled out a wad of crumpled bills. "We'll check out the ducks after this."

"Okay." Buttercup whistled as she watched Butch approach the line, a satisfied smirk on her face.

Butch normally would've wanted to wipe that boastful smirk off, but just for today he didn't mind. He stuck his tongue out at her good-naturedly, and was about to step into line when he crashed into somebody. "Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing his sore forehead.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't see you there."

Butch opened his eyes, lowering his hand. "Ross...?" he said in surprise.

"Butch!" the boy greeted cheerfully. "I didn't realize it was you! Here, you can go in line in front of me. It was probably my fault anyway; I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Oh, uhh...sure; thanks." Butch stepped into line in front of Ross, surprised at how casual the teen sounded despite all that had happened during the weekend.

Buttercup caught up to Butch. "Hey, what was all that noise about?" she asked. "You didn't budge, did you?"

"Hey, Butters," greeted Ross.

Buttercup stopped talking and turned around in surprise. "R-Ross...!"

"I didn't realize either of you would be here," Ross replied, smiling as he stuck his hands into his coat pockets. "I came out here because Shamus was busy with a...business meeting, and I was bored. I wanted some fresh air. It's been hard the past couple of days, and I wanted to relax. Rewind, y'know?"

"No, we get it. We're here for the same reason," Butch mumbled.

"Oh, I see. So a date, right?"

As soon as Ross said that, both greens choked on thin air. They started talking at once:

"What? On a date? With her? No, no, no."

"I'm not dating this buffoon! We're just hanging out."

Ross chuckled. "You guys never fail to make me laugh. Alright, I get it. You're not on a date." He glanced at Butch, who looked away. "Too bad though," he added more quietly.

"What?" asked Buttercup, raising an eyebrow.

Ross shook his head. "Nothing; sorry. I was just thinking about something else."

"Okay..." Buttercup frowned.

Butch kept his eyes trained on the person in front of him in line.

"Want a drink? It's on me," Ross offered, winking as he smiled.

"S-Sure," Buttercup replied, feeling her cheeks warm up despite the cold.

Butch frowned on the other hand, raising an eyebrow.

Ross just smiled back at him.

"I was supposed to buy her something, but okay." Butch looked down.

"Oh, sorry—if you want to—"

"No, no—you can treat us if you want. I mean, I'm more than willing to treat all three of us; it was just a silly bet and I lost so I had to treat her. If you buy the drinks and I buy the donuts, that actually helps my wallet," Butch babbled.

"Oh, sure," Ross agreed. "I really like the donuts here."

"Me too," Buttercup added, after giving Butch a questioning look for his strange behaviour. "For a small vendor, they sure make some good ones."

Butch bit his lip. He didn't know why he was feeling so weird. Ross was his friend; there shouldn't be any reason for Butch to feel the need to make sarcastic jabs or hinting gestures at him. Yet, he was doing exactly that. Probably because he couldn't stop thinking about the weekend and his conversation with Ross.*

Butch shook his head to clear it. The next thing he knew, they were already at the front of the stand.

"Three medium-sized drinks, please," Ross ordered.

"And a pack of donuts, if you will," Butch added. "We're dividing the cost between us."

"How nice," the man behind the stand said, flashing a toothy grin, "two young men treating one young maiden?"

Butch flushed red and so did Buttercup. Ross' looked flustered, but he didn't appear too bothered by the remark. "Don't embarrass me, Rufus," he mumbled.

"Of course," the man answered, before disappearing behind the stand to prepare the food.

"You know that guy?" asked Buttercup.

"He's one of Shamus' colleagues," Ross answered. "He makes...really good food that we happen to enjoy."

Butch raised an eyebrow but didn't comment further. "Rufus" had just emerged and was giving them their good. "That'll be $10, please."

Butch handed him $6 for the donuts. Ross gave him $6 for the three medium-sized drinks. Rufus took the money and gave them the food.

As they walked away, Ross sighed, carrying a tray of drinks. He glanced down at his wallet. "I forget how expensive the drinks are."

"What did you order for us?" Buttercup questioned. "Juice is just $0.50, right?"

"I got you guys smoothies." Ross smiled sheepishly. "I didn't want to spend less money than Butch. That'd be unfair. So I got the medium smoothies, which is $2 each."

"Oh...thanks," Butch said. His 12-pack of donuts was $6 too. Ross is always so considerate.

Buttercup smiled. "Wow, that was nice of you."

"Eh, no problem," Ross answered, shrugging nonchalantly. He looked up and pointed at a bench near the pond, where ducks were swimming. "Let's sit and eat over there!"

"Hey, wait up!" Butch ran after him, with Buttercup right behind him.

When they caught up, they saw that Ross had set the tray of drinks down on the bench. He was busy gazing the ducks, crouched down on the ground. A male mallard duck honked loudly at him before diving down into the water. He emerged a few seconds later onto the shore, shaking water from its feathers.

"Aww, the babies are cute," Buttercup commented. She glanced at a heron standing still across the pond. "And that thing is freaky."

Ross' head snapped up, a weird look to his eyes. His eyes seemed just slightly blank as he stared at the bird.

"Ross...? You okay?" Butch called.

Snapping out of his trance, Ross nodded. "Sorry; those birds sometimes make me want to compete with them in being freakishly still," he explained sheepishly.

Butch raised an eyebrow but didn't press further, sitting down on the bench. "Let's eat," he suggested.

"All you ever think about is food," Buttercup teased, sitting down beside him and taking a donut.

Ross laughed as he sat down beside her. "Pass me the donut with red filling and icing, will you, Butch?"

Butch did as he was told, wrinkling his nose just slightly at the sudden strong scent. He quickly brushed it off and focused on chewing his own donut.

Buttercup sipped at her smoothie, kicking her legs out. "This is nice," she remarked, "hanging out with my friends without having to think about all the bad shit."

"That's the whole reason why I invited you out here." Butch nudged her. "See? It wasn't such a bad idea after all."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I know."

Ross glanced at them. "Oh, so that's why you guys came out here." He paused. "...Sorry."

"What for? None of the crap happening is your fault," Buttercup answered.

Butch and Ross shared looks. She doesn't know about Damon or Danes or the fact that there's more Vix than just an enemy of the Ruffs. And we want to keep it that way.

"Heh...I guess you're right. I just feel bad about all of the things happening right now. Like, Brick's amnesia," Ross replied.

Butch winced inwardly. It was the same lie he had told Ross when he said he was sorry about Tyrone's death without saying that he knew Damon.**

"That's nice of you," Buttercup said, "but there's really no need."

Ross looked away. He quickly changed the subject: "You look pretty today, Buttercup. Is that a new jacket? It really brings out your eyes."

"Oh...yeah, it is." Buttercup blushed, fingering the material. "Bubbles got it for me; she got all of us new clothes to 'cheer us up'. I thought it was kinda dumb, but..." She trailed off.

I hadn't even noticed, Butch thought.

"It suits you." Ross smiled warmly at her.

Buttercup shivered, her face reddening.

Butch folded his arms. "Are you shaking?"

Concern for Buttercup pushed away Ross' thoughts of the past. "Sorry, did I offend you?"

"No, it's not that..." Buttercup shook her head.

"Are you cold? You can have my scarf." Ross pulled his scarf off. He then reached over and wrapped the green material around Buttercup's neck. "There. Warmer now?"

Buttercup only nodded. She felt more than warm. She wasn't sure her shivers were from the cold...

Ross smiled and patted Buttercup's hand. "Glad to see that you're not cold anymore. We wouldn't want you to get sick."

Butch felt his own face heat up, but in a different emotion. A more burning emotion that he didn't want to feel. He coughed loudly.

"Sorry I don't have a scarf for you, man. You can have my coat," Ross replied, half-joking.

"Nah, it's fine." Butch shook his head in embarrassment. He knew Ross meant well, yet the words he'd said during the weekend still lingered in Butch's brain... Somehow they had sounded just a little like a warning, and it seemed like Ross was carrying out that warning.* But I don't have feelings for Buttercup, he reminded himself, so I shouldn't be worried about this. Ross is just mistaken.

...So why is it I feel so weird?

Maybe I'm just uncomfortable about being a third wheel and having to watch them act this way. Yeah, that's probably it. It's just awkward, that's all.

As Butch was thinking, he didn't even hear Ross call his name. It wasn't until the other boy grabbed Butch by the shoulder that the green Ruff snapped out of it. "Huh?" he said.

"I was just asking if you were okay; you looked like you were spacing out," Ross explained.

"Oh...I'm fine." Butch felt his face redden as he looked into Ross' concerned eyes. He glanced at Buttercup, who raised an eyebrow. "I just...got distracted," he finished lamely, "by the ducks."

Ross sat back, still frowning. "Okay, if you say so. But if there's anything wrong—"

"Nothing's wrong," Butch replied quickly, his fingers tightening into fists in his urgency.

"...Okay."

Buttercup leaned forward and stared Butch in the eye. "You aren't hiding anything from us, are you?"

Butch took a deep breath and met her eyes. He held his gaze as he answered firmly, "No."

"Umm, am I missing something here?" inquired Ross, looking confused. He looked at Butch.

Butch shook his head, memories of Ross telling him that he wanted Buttercup to be kept out of the situation floating in his brain.

"I just wanted to ask you a question," Buttercup began, turning to Ross.

Oh shit. She's going to ask him about what we were talking about and see if he'll tell her! Butch decided to act quickly, standing up. "Oh, look at that! There's a gum wrapper in my pocket. I'll just go throw it out." As he started walking, he "accidentally" tripped and fell forward, grabbing Ross' scarf.

"Hey!" exclaimed Buttercup, holding on tightly to the unravelling scarf.

Ross watched with wide eyes. Butch ended up landing draped across Ross and Buttercup's knees, his head right beneath BC's chest. The green Ruff felt his face heat up as he looked up and saw Buttercup's chest, before he met eyes with her disapproving face. Oh shit. Not how I planned it to go, he panicked inwardly.

Buttercup yanked Ross' scarf out of his hands and carefully draped it over her neck again. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Butch was surprised she was taking the situation so well, but his surprise did not last long. Before he could apologize, Buttercup opened her eyes and screamed at him, "BUTCH, GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!"

"Okay, jeez! Sorry," Butch muttered, scrambling upwards and reseating himself on his side. The gum wrapper floated down to the ground, forgotten.

"What the hell was that, anyway!?" Seething, Buttercup glared at Butch.

"I tripped, okay!?"

"You're such a clumsy idiot!"

"Hey, it was just one accident!"

"And your landing position!"

"I'm sorry I saw your boobs up close, okay!?"

"No you're not!" Buttercup reached over and hit Butch.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing his arm. He grumbled under his breath, "There wasn't much to see anyway."

"EXCUSE ME!?" Buttercup stood up and her eyes glowed red as she shot laser beams at Butch.

He let out a yelp of surprise, jumping up into the air just in time. The wooden bench was left sizzling just slightly, and conveniently warmed the remaining donuts up again despite the cold. Butch stayed floating in the air, staring in shock at the smoke. Then he spun around to glare at Buttercup. "The fuck was that for!?" he demanded.

"You are terrible at apologies!" Buttercup yelled, her face flushed red. "You just said a bunch of fucking bullshit and expect me to accept that and forget this whole thing!? This is not okay!"

By now people were staring, but no one did anything. The most temperamental two of the PPG and RRB weren't exactly two people anyone wanted to deal with. Anyone, that is, except Ross.

"Guys," he tried. But they continued bickering.

"Flat chest!"

"Fat head!"

"Guys!" he repeated. Nothing changed.

"Bitch!"

"Dick!"

"Oh yeah I bet you want my dick; that's probably why you're so embarrassed!" Butch crowed loudly, now angry enough to have given up on apologizing. All he wanted to do was piss Buttercup off.

"You are such a freaking pervert! You're disgusting and—!"

"GUYS!" screeched Ross, his voice rising so that it slammed into the two greens' eardrums. The other people around them covered their ears. When the silence had stretched on for a couple of seconds and Ross was satisfied they wouldn't continue, he stood up. "Look at you two, arguing in the middle of public and not giving a shit who sees you! Come on, you guys—you're friends, aren't you?"

"I'm not friends with this asshole," Buttercup growled.

"Same goes to you, small tits," Butch snapped back.

"Hey—!"

"Enough!" Ross exclaimed. "You two need to stop arguing! Arguing as friends mean you have a lot of chemistry together, but you two are clearly holding back the fact that you two are indeed friends! How long have you known each other? How much crap have you gone through together? How much more crap will you go through together? How many times have you been glad to be friends rather than angry? You gotta ask yourself these questions and remember that you're friends now, not enemies."

"You're right, Ross. I'm s—" Butch tried to say something, but Ross interrupted.

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to her." He nodded toward Buttercup.

Butch sighed, rubbing his arm sheepishly. "I'm sorry, BC. I shouldn't have gotten so mad about the fact that you were just upset with me invading your personal space. But that was an accident; I swear." Mostly, anyway.

Buttercup flushed red. "Okay, and I'm sorry too...I guess. I mean, you were so bad with the apology and you said a bunch of stupid stuff that just pissed me off more."

"I only said it because you were being such a bitch about it." This time though, Butch said it with a teasing smile.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, but she couldn't hold back her own small smile. "Fine, I'll give you that. But it was only because you were such an ass."

Butch laughed, "Agreed."

Ross smiled. "You see? I told you guys were friends." He stood up, reaching down and picking up the forgotten gum wrapper. "I'll throw this out."

"Who would've thought that shy Ross could be so outgoing?" Butch teased.

"I'm not that shy," Ross answered just as teasingly, waving as he walked off.

As he got further and further away, Buttercup turned to Butch. "It wasn't entirely an accident, was it? You didn't want me to ask Ross my question."

Butch felt shock at the fact that Buttercup had figured it out. He looked away. "That's not—"

"...No, I get it."

Before he could say anything more, Ross had returned. He sat back down, holding up the now warm box of donuts. "Wow, you guys sure are lucky! You have like, eyes that can act as mini-ovens!" Grinning, Ross opened the box. "Who wants a donut?"

"Me," Buttercup called.

Ross smiled and placed the item gently in her hand. "Here you go."

She blushed.

Butch coughed. "I'd like one too."

Ross passed it to Butch. "Here you go."

"Thanks." Butch bit into it, watching as Ross told a joke and Buttercup laughed. And it wasn't her sarcastic or her usual laugh; this one was much gentler and tinkled gently like chimes. She doesn't laugh like that with me. Then again, I usually tease her or tell her stupid jokes.

But as he continued to talk with them, Butch realized a couple of things. Buttercup smiles and laughs and talks and even acts differently when she's with Ross. Why? What does it mean?

Butch set his last donut down from his lips. And why do I feel so weird about this? Is it really that awkward to be a third wheel?

His shout echoed within the forest as his fist met with the tree. The tree snapped into a bunch of splintered pieces, smashing down to the ground. Breathing heavily, he sank down and closed his eyes. He felt slightly bad about the fallen tree, but it had helped his frustration...

He still had so much frustration that he wanted to get rid of, despite his aching body. If it was any other day, he would've been home working on a drawing, maybe, or saving the city from criminals.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled the device out. "'Where are you?'" The text was from Bandit.

"'I'm at our hunting grounds'", he typed back.

"'What are you doing there?'"

"'Letting off some steam.'"

"'Alright, but be careful, Boomer. You know what's lurking out there.'"

"'...I know.'"

Boomer sighed and turned his phone off, closing his eyes and falling back on the grass. He lay there for a little while, letting his chest rise and fall. I hope Brick is okay. And Butch should've been out of detention by now. I wonder where he is?

In about four minutes, he was back up and dusting the grass off of his clothing. He stretched, enjoying the pop in his muscles. Boomer felt like going somewhere, but he wasn't entirely sure where. Maybe Damon's old cabin. He was about to start flying there when a rustling noise sounded.

Curious, the blue Ruff followed the noise until he had reached the end of the hunting grounds and was nearing a field. Boomer stopped and stared at the centre of the field, where a girl wearing a small white hat was sitting. Boomer squinted; it looked like she was picking flowers. Underneath the sun hat, he could make out luscious blond hair that fell down the girl's shoulders. And when she turned around, Boomer realized that her eyes were—

—Blue.

Pausing, Boomer recognized her and he quickly dropped down behind some bushes before she spotted him. It was Bubbles!

Bubbles was wearing a flowing white skirt with a sparkly blue top, and her usual pigtails were down. That was why Boomer hadn't recognized her immediately. She seemed unaware that she was being watched. He was surprised to see her picking flowers, when that seemed like something a child would do.

Using his super-hearing, he tuned in to listen to what she was possibly saying. Instead he heard a soft melodic sound, and he realized that she was singing. The music made Boomer relax, and he closed his eyes. For a few minutes, all he could hear was the song that she was humming.

But then it stopped. Opening his eyes, Boomer scanned the area. Bubbles was still there, but now she was tying the flowers together and speaking softly to herself. She held flowers the colours of the rainbow: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. "There we go. After I make these flowers into pretty wreaths and press them, I'll give them to my sisters. Hopefully that'll cheer them up." She paused. "And maybe I could give these red ones to Brick."

Boomer looked up from his hiding place. She was staring forlornly at a bunch of red flowers, which seemed to fit Brick perfectly. Boomer sighed inwardly. He knew that the Puffs were worried about Brick too. The blue Rowdyruff Boy stood up, wanting to greet Bubbles. Before he could though, someone else did.

"Bubbles; I didn't expect to see you here!" a soft voice rang out over the field, and Boomer cringed.

He'd recognize that voice from anywhere. Sidney, he thought.

"Oh hi, Sidney! I didn't expect you here either!" Bubbles answered, smiling warmly at him.

The shy male smiled back, albeit less confidently. "This is my quiet place," he explained. "I don't get to come here very often though."

Boomer froze. His "quiet place" is so close to our new hunting grounds! It's a wonder he hasn't caught us yet.

"I only just recently found this place. I'm sorry, am I intruding?" asked Bubbles.

"What?" Sidney blinked before blushing. "No, no! I don't own this property or anything. You have every right to be here, and I honestly don't mind!"

"Are you sure? If you came here for some quiet—"

"Bubbles," Sidney said softly but firmly, "it's fine, really. I happen to really enjoy your company and you make me feel already at peace—and happy. This is just a place. Feel free to come here whenever you want; I could use a little company." He blushed. "I'm sorry, that was w—"

"No, no, not at all!" Bubbles' eyes which had originally been wide, were now shining brightly as she jumped up and smiled. "Wow, that means a lot to me! Thanks, Sid."

"You're welcome, Bubbles. Now...could I ask you what you're going to do with all those flowers?" Sidney asked.

"Oh, I was going to make them into pressed wreaths to give to my sisters. They've been a little upset lately," Bubbles explained.

"I'm going to guess they're colour-coordinated?" He paused. "But umm...who is the red one for?"

Bubbles blushed. "It's for umm...Brick," she mumbled.

Sidney seemed surprised. "Do you like him, Bubbles?"

"No, no! Not in that way! To be perfectly honest, he's not my type," Bubbles said quickly, her face red.

"Oh, my mistake." Sidney reached over and felt her forehead. "Are you okay? Your face is red..."

"I-I'm fine!" stammered Bubbles.

Boomer watched, frowning. Something about this just made him feel...weird.

"Oh! I almost forgot." Bubbles walked over to a group of flowers and picked a couple of pink-yellow peonies. She hurriedly tied them together into a ringlet and shyly handed them to Sidney. "Here you go," she mumbled, "peonies—"

Sidney's surprised expression faded into a smile as he took the flowers. "Thank you, Bubbles. Peonies symbolize shyness, don't they?" He chuckled lightly. "Sort of like me."

"That's what I thought too," she giggled back. "But hey, at least they also symbolize royalty...in China. I learned that from Blossom~"

He smiled at her. "Do you want to come with me to my house? I could show you around. It's nothing as fancy as my friend Michael's place, but it's cozy. We could press these flowers there. It looks like a gingerbread house! So are you—?"

"Yes!" she gasped gleefully, grinning. "Thanks, Sidney! That's so nice of you."

Boomer decided that he had had enough. He still wanted to go snooping at Damon's place, and he didn't feel like sticking around here any longer. I'm not needed here, he told himself. I shouldn't even be here. I shouldn't have thought to say hi.

As he turned and got ready to walk away, he missed Bubbles turning around. She spotted him just as he was leaving, and her eyes widened in surprise.

But he was already gone.

Bandit turned his phone off, relieved to see that Boomer was safe. He knew where Butch was (detention—although detention was taking much longer than it should've...), but he had been unaware of Boomer's whereabouts.

Now that Brick had amnesia despite waking up, and the fact that war was lingering just beyond the horizon, Bandit's confidence had dropped. He groaned and let his head fall to his desk. He was still the leader, even though Brick was no longer unconscious. In Brick's current situation, he was in no condition to lead a team he hardly understood. Hell, he doesn't even know about his superpowers yet! Bandit groaned again.

"I'm going to go crazy if this keeps up," he said to himself. "...Maybe I already am; I'm speaking to myself goddammit," he added afterwards.

Sighing, Bandit leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. Everything he knew was changing. He and the Ruffs had been protesting Danes ever since the fire incident with Damon and Vix, but now this approaching war was serious. It was real.

Bandit pushed his chair back and stood up, ruffling his shaggy brown hair and yelling. When he stopped, his shoulders slumped. The yelling had helped release some of the frustration.

The purple Ruff turned to his full-body mirror, frowning at his long, messy hair. Bandit reached over and grabbed a purple shirt, taking off the tight, black no-sleeve he was wearing. After putting the shirt on, he tied his hair back in its usual small ponytail and headed to the window.

He wanted to fly. He didn't know where; he just knew that he wanted to go somewhere for awhile away from home... And away from his responsibilities.

Bandit didn't know how Brick did it. Everyday, Brick faced the challenges of a leader and carried a burden on his shoulders. He tried to always choose what was best for his team. Bandit had thought he understood leadership, thanks to the couple of times he'd filled in for Brick—but now Bandit realized that he'd been wrong. His grasp of leadership had been small.

It wasn't just about leading a person or a team toward victory and keeping them safe, although that was the basic definition. No, it was also a sign of responsibility, caring, and meticulous planning. There were so many factors in leadership—so many that they weighed heavily on Bandit's back, seeing as they had been relieved from Brick's back.

"I hope I don't fuck this up," Bandit muttered, landing in a clearing. It was the Ruffs' new hunting grounds. He spotted a fallen tree, which hadn't been there before. Bandit grabbed hold of it and lifted it up, before placing it back on it's stump. He began singing.

The melody manifested in the air and wrapped itself around the tree until the tree was whole again. Bandit stepped back to admire his handiwork, also to contemplate why the tree had fallen over. I guess that's what Boomer meant when he said he was getting rid of some steam... That's right, isn't Boomer supposed to be here? Where is the big bozo, anyway? Bandit wondered.

"Impressive," a voice called. It was oddly scratchy and cut the air like a heavy knife, but at the same time it was smooth and flowed like swirling black water.

Bandit spun around. "Who's there?" he demanded.

At first, there was no answer—at least not verbally. Instead, someone landed in the shadows with a thump, before standing up. They were hidden by their black coat.

"Show yourself," Bandit ordered, trying to remain calm.

"Hello." The person stepped forward into the light and removed their coat, revealing pale skin and a black top. He had dark-blue eyes.

"...Darkai," Bandit muttered, turning away to look up at the sky. "What do you want?"

"Nothing."

"You should use more words in your sentences."

"Fine."

Bandit turned and raised an expectant eyebrow, so Darkai cleared his throat quietly.

"I just wasn't expecting you here," he said, still in his smoothly scratchy voice.

"Yeah, well it's not like this place is off-limits," retorted Bandit.

"No." Darkai paused, before adding in agreement, "It's not."

"The world's not fair," Bandit muttered bitterly.

Darkai paused. "Why not?"

"You wouldn't understand, would you? You're just one of Danes' lackeys."

With that, Bandit for uppercutted and was thrown into the air. When Bandit regained his balance on the ground, Darkai was standing in his original spot, his usually emotionless eyes dark. "I am not Danes' lackey," he snarled.

"Yeah, well it sure feels like it," Bandit shot back, crouching there and rubbing his sore chin. "Fuck," he muttered, folding his arms. "So now what? Are you here to tease me or something?"

"I don't tease," Darkai answered.

"No, but you fight." Bandit lunged and swung his arm out. "This is for attacking me!"

Darkai grabbed it easily and pulled it forward so much that a cracking noise sounded. Bandit gritted his teeth in pain as his arm twisted.

Stumbling backwards, the purple Ruff rubbed his arm to soothe the pain. "You sure play rough," he muttered.

"I am not the one who thoughtlessly attacked."

"I wasn't the one who first attacked, and I certainly didn't do it thoughtlessly." Bandit wrung his hands out, especially the one attached to his injured arm. He growled lowly.

"You're bleeding," Darkai pointed out, ignoring Bandit's words as he spotted a big cut on the Ruff's knee.

Bandit stumbled upwards and punched Darkai. "That won't stop me from winning!"

Darkai easily caught Bandit's fist, considering how clumsy the punch was. "You're better than this," he claimed, grabbing the purple Ruff's other arm. He bent it the wrong way again, and another snapping sound sounded.

Bandit let out a howl of pain, dropping down and feebly clutching at his now throbbing arm. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"You're not focusing," Darkai said, placing his foot on Bandit's front to keep him down. "Focus."

"I'll show you focus!" Bandit grabbed Darkai's foot and swung him easily away. Then he jumped up and kicked Darkai—hard. He was sent smashing into a tree.

The teen sat up. "Channeling all of your anger at me, I see."

"For someone who doesn't talk a lot, you're really annoying when you do talk," panted Bandit, his eyes flashing red as he shot laser beams at Darkai.

"You asked me to talk."

Bandit didn't answer, starting to sing. The pain vanished from his arms as he used his healing powers. They weren't as strong as Blaster or Boomer's or even Vix's, but they helped every now and then. He rushed forward and grabbed Darkai by the collar, smashing him into the same tree again.

Darkai stared back at Bandit calmly. "I'm not who you're mad at."

Bandit paused, suddenly realizing that Darkai had a point. He dropped the teen's collar. "...You're right," he muttered, voicing his thoughts out loud.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh I totally just said, 'screw you'!" he shot back sarcastically. Rolling his eyes, Bandit folded his arms and deadpanned, "What do you think I said, smartass?"

"I know what you said, and you do too. I'm just surprised you said it." Darkai calmly fixed his collar and his hair. Then he met Bandit's gaze. "I can tell that you're angry about something going on in your life, but I do believe I have nothing to do with it. Even if I am on Danes' side, I am not involved in everything he does."

"I know. You can shut up now." Bandit glared at a tree. "That's the most words you've said to me in awhile."

"...True."

Bandit glanced back at Darkai as the silence stretched on. It seemed that Darkai had taken his words to heart and wasn't speaking much again. Bandit cleared his throat awkwardly. "Why did you try to break my arms?"

"You said to—"

"Shut up and answer the question."

"...Very well. I didn't actually break them, which I'm sure you noticed. I just wanted to inflict enough pain on you so that you would come to your senses. Besides...it was slightly entertaining."

"I couldn't tell. You never smiled or showed any sign of amusement," he replied sarcastically.

"I don't smile."

Bandit rolled his eyes again. "I noticed."

Darkai calmly stood up and began to leave. "There are many hunters that stalk the wolves for prey," he called over his shoulder, "whether it be for sport, fun, fur, prey, or for revenge. Either way, you should be careful."

"What do you care?" Bandit called after him. He was cut off as a bullet of some sort whizzed through the air and sliced through a tree. Swallowing, Bandit glanced back at the tree now with a small hole in it.

"...That's why," Darkai answered, referring to the hole. "Because I am one of the hunters and you are my prey, and I do not want my prey making the game too easy for me."

"Why do you hunt me?"

"You know why. Farewell." Then Darkai disappeared.

Bandit watched him go, before walking to the tree behind him and pulling out the bullet. He looked it over. It was a tranquilizer dart of some kind. It wouldn't have hurt Bandit; probably just knocked him out for awhile. Still, he knew that Darkai wouldn't do anything awful to him even if he had been hit by the dart.

It's too soon for that. Turning the thing over in his hand, Bandit frowned. He missed on purpose...but I doubt he will next time.

*(A/N: Reference to chapter 32!)

**(A/N: Reference to chapter 24!)

ME: Well look at that. The chapter's done. I hope you guys enjoyed the fluff!

BANDIT: Ew. If this chapter focuses on romance, don't tell me Darkai and I are...?

ME: No, no! It's to set up for the future. *winks*

BANDIT: ...That makes me feel so much better.

ME: Obvious sarcasm aside, thanks!

BRICK: KUKU! I TOLD YOU TO TAKE IT BACK!

ME: Take what back, Mr. Temper, Temper?

BRICK: DON'T PLAY DUMB WITH. TAKE BACK WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT ME AND BLOSSOM!

BLOSSOM: "Blossom and I"—

BRICK: I don't care!

ME: Oh come on. I know you care about h—

BRICK: I DON'T CARE ABOUT THAT EITHER SHUT UP.

ME: Fine, fine. I won't take it back though.

BRICK: Kuku!

ME: *shrugs, makes zipping gesture across my lips*

BRICK: *fumes* That's not what I meant by "shut up"!

ME: *shrugs again*

BUBBLES: *sweat-drop* Now's probably a good time to close the Author's Notes. Uh...let us know what you think through a review, please!