Author
Author's Note: Contact me at theak472@aol.com
- you might even decide what happens! Gimme opinions. I like 'em. Thanks for all
the reviews, and to Kim-Mei for proofreading. It's going to be confusing from
here onwards, but that's how I like my fics. Hang in there. There's been a
slight change of plans in the ending - and to you smart people who know what
Her's three words meant, congratulations. But, well, everything will make sense
soon.
Maybe I'm Twisted
by Rey
Chapter 10 - His Unwritten
Apology
"You'll be sorry when I'm gone." - Blink 182
Buttercup
came down the stairs for breakfast to find a frowning Professor waiting at the
foot of the stairs. "Have you seen Blossom, Buttercup? I haven't seen her all
morning! Is she still asleep?"
Buttercup
paused, and shook her head. The Professor's frown tilted, with a worried air
surrounding it. "Oh, dear..." He sighed, shaking his head. "I'm
afraid she's gone missing. Buttercup, would you wake the boys up, please? I'm
going to look around the house one more time, and if I can't find her, I'll have
to file another police report."
Buttercup's
forehead crinkled with a frown, as she hovered into the living room, where the
two remaining boys were sprawled out on the couches lazily, snoring loudly. She
settled down on the sleeping Brick's stomach heavily, promptly bringing him back
into a state of consciousness. Hair tousled, he opened an eye slowly to glare at
her. "Oi, girl, shove it. I need my beauty sleep."
"You
ain't that beautiful," She snorted, hitting him with a couch cushion. Brick
sat up, scratching the side of his head with a yawn.
"Well,
I'm not, but you sure are," He snickered, reaching to grab his cap from the
coffee table and jam it onto his head. The troubled expression on Buttercup's face remained, though,
and he tilted his head inquisitively as his laughter quickly died away, studying
her. "What's wrong?"
She did not
deign to reply, instead hovering to the blonde lying on the opposite couch and
shaking him roughly. "Wake up, Boomer."
"...Bee-Cee?" Brick frowned, knowing full well something was wrong.
"What? Is Bubbles..."
"No," she said abruptly, as Boomer sat up, muttering something about
'early morning' and 'stupid girl', "The police couldn't come to a
conclusion about Bubbles. It's... it's Blossom. She's gone."
Him, looking
rather ridiculous in his glowing pink ballerina tutu and toeshoes, balanced
neatly on one foot. He watched his sister, who was stretched out lazily on his
couch. "Aren't you going to do something, dear?" He inquired politely,
though his narrowed eyes would have suggested anything other than courtesy.
"What?" Her consisted of two personalities, just like her sibling, and
presently her more eloquent persona was in charge.
"Well,
I told you about my plan, and really, I think it's foolproof. I expect you've
already figured out the rest, but... it surprises me that you aren't doing anything
about it." Him, arms outstretched, took a flying leap over the couch,
landing on his tiptoes smartly.
"Yes, I
have figured it out. I'm not as stupid as you would've liked me to be,
like mum reminded me all the time when we were younger. Something about you
asking whether I was born retarded and looking rather disappointed when informed
I wasn't."
"That
is not my point!" Him snapped. "What my point is, is that since you
already know what they're going to do, aren't you going to stick your claws in
and twist something to your liking? It's because of you that all my plans
for Townsville have failed!"
"Dad
didn't expect to have two children. Not much I can do about the fact that he
only had one town to pass on. Besides, it's pretty fair, isn't it? You got the
town, I got the people. And another thing: How do you know I haven't done
anything yet?" Her retorted, quite calmly.
Him paused
sharply, sending a glance towards his leather-clad sister. Too much could be
drawn from that one comment. "You've... you've intervened already? Why do I
not already know about this? Don't reply to that," barked Him, noticing his
sister about to make a sarcastic comment. "Ollie! OLLIE! Where are
you, Ollie?"
His sister
simply smirked, kicking out one leg, and smoothing down her leather jacket.
"Don't blow a gasket, now. I haven't done much. You know I don't like
arbitrating with Fate... though it was always Dad and you who were up to
that."
As Her
finished speaking, a small, handy-sized demon with comical little wings
fluttered through the nearest cavernous doorway. "You called, master?"
It squeaked, cowering before Him.
"Fate,
schmate. I never had respect for her and I never - Oh, Ollie! There you are.
Now," he grinned malevolently at the small demon, which trembled nervously,
"Have any reports about her actions come in lately?"
"Err,
well, that is to say, yes, sir! But you, you seemed very very busy, sir, and you
were talking with ma'am, sir, so we thought we'd -"
"You thought?
You THOUGHT?! I'll do the thinking around HERE!" Him screeched, his
body bursting into flames which crackled and popped menacingly.
The winged
demon squealed in fright, fluttering backwards through the door. "Yes sir,
sorry sir, will remember that, sir!" Her shook her head, chuckling, and appearing over the end of the couch.
"You
horrible chap, you've gone and frightened him. And I don't think you should have
said that, Fate has ears that go around -"
"Ears
called Her, perhaps?" Him chuckled nastily at his sister's indignant
expression. "You like to be on the good side of everyone, I know at least that
much."
"Perhaps Fate will deal you a wild card," Her shot back. "I'm not
the only reason your plans all failed."
"Don't
rub it in," Him grimaced, while attempting to pirouette gracefully. "Now, if you'll
excuse me," he warbled indistinctly, "I want you to go away now. Shoo! I have more
important things to do."
"Absolutely horrible host, you are," The voice came back shortly. But as Him
turned, intending to shoot fire and/or lightning at her, or at least
set some sort of curse on her, he found nothing. Her always liked to
have the last word...
"Eh?
Whaddaya mean, gone?" Boomer hovered up from the tangle of blankets
on his couch, to plop down on the second couch, next to Brick.
Buttercup
knitted her brow, upset. "She's just gone. I haven't seen her this morning;
not since last night."
Brick
shrugged, tactlessly commenting, "Well, she'll probably turn up sooner or
later. It doesn't really matter right now."
That did it
for Buttercup. Her face turned a peculiar shade of crimson, the blood boiling in
her veins. She managed to hold herself down for a moment or two, as the boys
watched apprehensively, but it bubbled over, and she exploded.
"It
doesn't really matter? She doesn't really matter?!" She
snarled, using a word that she wouldn't normally have used. "What is WRONG
with you?! She's my -" And here she interjected that word again, in
adjective form, " - sister!! Get out! Of! My! House!!"
Normally,
Brick would have stayed to argue, but that look on her face goaded him to do
otherwise. Standing up, his hair still ruffled and his cap on the right way,
Brick hovered to the door, opened it, and left.
Boomer
turned his gaze towards Buttercup, opening his mouth as if he were about to say
something, perhaps something harsh. But it was too late; she'd already left the
room, and, even though the tension in the room dropped indefinitely, Boomer
still had a sick feeling in his stomach. He, too, stood and left the sitting
room, heading towards the laboratory where he sensed the Professor would be.
"Mr.
Utonium? Professor, sir?" Boomer said weakly, hovering down the stairs into
the laboratory. It was full of strange things that he longed to touch, break,
fool with, but he resisted the itching urge. He had a certain respect for the
Professor, and he wasn't quite sure where it had come from.
"Yes, B
-... uhm, B -..."
"Boomer, sir." The blonde hovered up in front of the Professor, arms
outstretched. "Um, sir. Buttercup kind of got into a fight with Brick, and
Brick's, err, left."
The
Professor started, looking up from his calculations. "What? Has she yelled
at our other guest?"
"Um,
well, it wasn't really her fault," he said hastily. "Don't talk to her
about it, but I think she's upset about it, too... You see, um, she..."
Boomer trailed off, turning his gaze to the ceiling.
The
Professor frowned slightly, glancing back towards his work. "Well, I will
respect your wishes and I won't talk to her about it, but will you see that...
that she doesn't get too distressed? It's a very, very hard time for all of
us... I'm so worried for Bubbles, and now Blossom's gone, and I can't do
anything until the police have... well..." He trailed off as well, and
moments later, their eyes met.
Boomer
chuckled nervously. "I.. I will, sir. Thank you."
The
Professor allowed himself a small smile, though the creased lines on his
forehead suggested a different emotion. "You're welcome, B -.. Boomer. Run
along, now."
Boomer left
the laboratory, shutting the door quietly so as not to distract the Professor.
Buttercup,
brushing her teeth in the bathroom, gazed into the mirror. She expected to see
Brick's face again, for some reason, but it was different this time, sorrowful,
but not accusing. It watched her sadly, and she closed her eyes, trying her best
to ignore it.
Exiting the
bathroom, she first noticed the sound of wind rustling. Wind? Secondly, she
noticed the window open. Was she really that careless, to leave the window open
the whole day? But the third thing, the most important thing, was the object
that sat upon the girls' bed. She couldn't ignore it, she couldn't put it out of
her mind. It was there.
Brick's cap
sat upon her bed, slightly grimy. But it was there. He'd been there. But where
was he now?
Rey: Haha. It's Friday!
::beams:: Keep those reviews coming. I live for reviews;
I've realized. Come on! The box is just down there! You waaaaaant to... Oh, and
now do you see why it's under the category suspense? Ha ha, I've been waiting
for this point. BEG for the next chapter, BEG! .... -ahem- Sorry, I'm getting a
little full of myself. Thanks for reading.