Heightened Tensions- Chapter 13

Bubbles always enjoyed Saturdays the best out of every day of the week, and felt like this one was no exception.

She sat on the couch in front of the TV, propped up against one of the armrests as she rested a book in her lap. She'd been sitting there reading for the past hour, periodically checking the clock, and was starting to feel very tired.

Bubbles sat upright and set the book down next to her, leaning her body back into the cushions of the couch. She closed her eyes, and sighed dreamily, wishing that she had time to take a nap. But she didn't. She had to meet Dexter at the library in half and hour to finish a government project.

The professor walked into the room, holding a spray bottle and a cleaning rag in his hands. He was wearing a ridiculous frilly pink apron that Blossom had given him ten years earlier as a gift, but he seemed to not notice that he was wearing something rather feminine as he went about his cleaning.

"Why hello there, stranger," the professor said happily, almost instantly breaking into a fit of whistling. He walked over to the TV and started wiping it down with his rag. "Haven't seen you around here before."

"Ha, very funny professor," Bubbles said casually, bringing her knees up to her chin. She watched the professor for a few minutes as he cleaned the dust off the television, before standing to help him.

"So, what exactly have you been up to? Feels like the only time I ever see you is school, and even then you don't seem like you're really there," the professor asked, frowning as Bubbles grabbed the bottle of cleaner from his hand.

"I've just been preoccupied…" she said, spraying a few squirts onto the shelf the TV was sitting on. The professor sighed, and stood straight, arching his back in a stretch.

"Well, just try not to work yourself to death you know. Homework isn't supposed to kill you," he said quickly, throwing the cleaning towel onto the top of the TV box. Bubbles raised her eyebrows quickly.

"Ummm… yeah…" she said softly, grabbing the towel and turning to face the window. She started spraying it wildly, as if trying to create some sort of a distraction. "You're right, homework shouldn't be hanging over my head so much, should it?"

The professor didn't respond, but started to untie the apron from around his waist. He removed it, and threw it down in a partially folded pile onto the couch.

"Aren't you suppose to be at the library today?" he asked. Bubbles stopped her sporadic cleaning and turned to face the professor.

"Yeah, we need to finish a poster for government class… which reminds me, I need to go get my colored pencils. I should probably go anyway. I don't want to miss the train…" Bubbles said quickly, her words trailing off as she put both the spray bottle and rag onto the couch. She brushed past the professor, and felt his hand pat her back as she passed. The touch made her tense just slightly, but not enough for the professor to notice.

Her back was significantly sore, because a few nights ago she'd been thrown through a brick wall by the very powerful thrust of a solid, metallic hand. She'd looked at her back in the mirror after returning home that night, and had been terrified to find a hideous bruise that covered her back from her shoulders to her waist. Not to mention the fact that her entire torso was stiff and sore. Needless to say, she'd been wearing nothing but substantially large sweaters and turtlenecks since then.

But she'd gotten away, again. How many times was she going to get lucky? And how long was it going to take for that luck to run out?

Bubbles tried not to think about it as she bounded up the stairs, taking them three at a time. She made it up to the landing, and her attention was caught by some sort of movement from the bathroom. She moved closer, and frowned.

Buttercup was standing in front of the mirror, almost completely motionless. She was staring into her own reflection, her hands rubbing at her forearms repeatedly as if she was cleaning them somehow with some sort of programmed motions. Her eyes were very blank, her mouth thin, and her growing-out hair was hanging limply past her shoulders. Buttercup didn't seem to notice that Bubbles was staring at her. She looked deeply occupied in her own thoughts.

Bubbles thought back to what she'd said to Buttercup just two days earlier, and felt the familiar stab of guilt plunge into her heart. She'd tried time and again to apologize to Buttercup, but it was hard to sit and talk to someone who seemed to be avoiding all human contact. Bubbles had at least gone so far as to slip a note under Buttercup's door, to say she was sorry and that she hadn't meant anything that she'd said, and most importantly, that she cared and wanted to help. But, whether or not Buttercup had actually read the letter and had taken the words to heart was a different matter entirely.

Almost as if on cue, Buttercup turned and saw Bubbles staring at her. She quickly put her hands behind her back as if hiding something, and a familiar sneer spread across her face.

"What?"

"I…I was just wondering what you were up to," Bubbles lied. She looked down at the ground, feeling angry at herself and at Buttercup for making any interaction together so damn hard. When did they suddenly grow so far apart?

Buttercup didn't respond, but came out of the bathroom, still wearing her night clothes. She glanced at Bubbles once, then looked down at the floor before quickly returning to her own room. Surprisingly, Buttercup didn't even shut the door, but instead of making things worse, Bubbles admitted her defeat and walked over to her and Blossom's room, where the door was closed.

Bubbles walked up to the door, but stopped abruptly. She heard voices.

She tried to strain her hearing, but only heard Blossom talking… to herself? That was just a little bit strange.

Bubbles kept listening, her fist hesitantly raised to knock on the door, and then she heard something that made her blood run cold. There was a second voice in that room, one that she knew all too well. Shit-

"BLOSSOM!" Bubbles burst into the room, not even bothering to knock, throwing the door open as she fell into the bright, pink of Blossom's half of the bedroom. Bubbles looked around wildly, her hands balled up in fists, but stopped suddenly when she realized that Blossom was the only person in the room.

"Bubbles?" Blossom croaked weakly. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, dressed in her favorite pink sweater and pleated skirt, her face wide with terror as if Bubbles's sudden entrance had given her quite a start.

Bubbles stomped into the room, looking around quickly. She moved over to where the curtain separated the room and threw it open, as if expecting some sort of monster to be hiding behind it.

"Bubbles… are you okay?" Blossom said meekly, moving so that she was now standing on her hands and knees on the bed. She was watching Bubbles anxiously.

"I heard voices in here!" Bubbles cried, turning to Blossom quickly. They met eyes for a second, and Blossom's face suddenly broke into a sly grin.

"Oh… that was me… I was listening to the radio…" she said casually, plopping herself down onto her bed so that she was now lying on her stomach. Bubbles's face erupted into a viciously incredulous expression of mistrust.

"You can't be serious… I heard you talking!"

"No just the radio…" and Blossom motioned to her small portable stereo that was in fact sitting right next to her on the bed. Bubbles straightened, feeling the sudden adrenaline drain from her system. She had been so sure she'd heard Him's voice coming from the bedroom… something seemed weird.

"Well… all right then…" Bubbles said tonelessly, watching Blossom with eyebrows raised. "I just came to grab my pencils."

"Be my guest," Blossom said casually, stretching her arms in front of her as if she was examining her hands. "You know where they are."

Bubbles walked past the curtain and moved over to her desk, where she threw open the top drawer carelessly. It came flying out violently, and she spilled everything onto the floor. She cursed under her breath, muttering angrily, and bent down to pick up her box of colored pencils that had nearly dumped its contents along with the rest of the mess. She grabbed her purse from her bed, stuffed the box of pencils inside, and then tore past the curtain.

"I'll be back later," Bubbles mumbled incoherently, and Blossom murmured her own goodbye as Bubbles left the room in a hurry.

She raced down the stairs once again, and made a dashing leap for the front door, but the professor stopped her before she could throw it open.

"Oh, and Bubbles…" he said, his voice melodious as it floated out from somewhere else in the house. Bubbles scoffed angrily and turned, slapping her arms down at her sides.

"What?!" she cried, harassed. This went unnoticed by the professor.

"Don't be home too late-"

"Yeah, yeah," and she threw open the door, walked out, and slammed it shut before the professor could say another word.

She walked down the street towards a larger section of the Pokey Oaks suburb, where the train station would take her downtown. As she walked, she couldn't help but keep checking behind her, despite the fact that it was broad daylight, and she'd instantly know if something was following her. It had become more of a habit to be constantly wary about her surroundings, which was probably a good thing to have, except for the fact that it made her seem overly paranoid.

She passed a row of bikes as she entered the vicinity of the train station. She walked to the stairway that would take her to the ticket center, and ran up them two at a time. She hurried passed the crowds of commuters, ignoring their incessant stares as she pushed past them. She bought her ticket at the machines that lined the walls, and went to stand on the platform, hurrying through the ticket gates.

Bubbles stepped on the train and found a spot next to a window at the end of the car. She didn't feel like entertaining curious Townies today. The whole episode with Buttercup and Blossom had put her in a foul mood, and she just wanted to be alone. Something was going on with Blossom too, and what pissed Bubbles off even more, was the fact that she seemed to find something funny about her strange behavior.

Whatever. Bubbles didn't care anymore. They could both wallow in their own self-pity and problems for all she cared. If they didn't want to talk to someone and straighten it out… then who needed them anyway. They deserved to stay depressed.

A few minutes later the train pulled to a stop, and she heard the voice of the conductor over the intercom.

"Downtown Townsville…"

Bubbles stood, ignoring the curious stares as she hurried to the train door, and waited anxiously for it to open. There was a burst of cool air as the door slid away, revealing the new train platform at Downtown Townsville station.

Bubbles stepped off the train, readjusting her purse on her shoulder, and she looked around quickly. Dexter was supposed to meet her there. Checking her watch, she realized that she was early, so she walked forward and found a bench to sit on and wait.

The Downtown Station was much busier than the Pokey Oaks stop, being a larger, busier part of town. The entire station itself was much larger, and even went so far as to be considered a mini mall. Inside the multiple-storied station itself, the walls were lined with small shops and restaurants, along with small carts that sold various items from newspapers to gifts. In fact, this particular station was pretty much the center for a lot of commuters, and nearly every train that went anywhere, stopped somewhere at the Downtown Station. Even large, vacationer trains stopped here on their way to various parts of the state, and even country.

It was a nice place, and for some reason made Bubbles feel comfortable. Maybe it was just the fact that there were so many people; business people in fine clothing, teenagers on their way to days of shopping, or even various commuters just trying to get somewhere in Townsville. Or maybe it was the fact that Bubbles had always liked the trains. She'd always enjoyed riding them, and it had started years ago when the professor would sometimes take her and her sisters way out into the outskirts of Townsville for picnics. She just liked the way they looked, and the way they sounded when they moved, and she liked the idea of being high above everything, gliding on raised tracks above the city like the trains themselves were flying. It made her just slightly nostalgic.

Bubbles sighed, trying hard not to think of the times when she'd been able to fly. Hell, if she could still fly… she could easily get rid of X… but things just weren't that simple anymore. Growing up was a bitch.

Bubbles put her face in her hands and closed her eyes wearily. Thinking about the past was hard, and it just made her feel even more scared to leave the past further and further behind. Someday she'd have to grow up and leave the nest… but she wasn't sure if she was ready for that… at least not yet. That is to say… if she made it through the school year alive.

"Bubbles!" her name was called from somewhere off to her left, and for a split second Bubbles just thought it was another stupid Townsville fan. She lifted her face to the direction of the voice, her expression one of utter annoyance, but she instantly softened.

"Dexter!" She cried, jumping to a stand. She felt a fluttering in her stomach, and for a second she momentarily lost her balance as some sort of strange emotion came over her. A warm, fuzzy feeling suddenly bloomed inside of her breast as she broke into a smile.

Dexter stumbled towards her, his brown wool jacket hanging limply over his shoulders as he fumbled with his side bag. He looked worn, and almost like he'd been running, his clothes all askew.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to ::pant:: make you wait for me!" he cried desperately, stumbling to a stop just in front of her, nearly crashing into her before she managed to catch him with her hands.

"No! I was actually here early…" she said lazily, her hands clumsy as she attempted to readjust the scarf he was wearing. She wasn't exactly aware of what she was doing, but suddenly froze in alarm as she realized that she'd been trying to straighten out his black shirt.

"Sorry… it was sorta messy.." she said, blushing furiously. She'd found that she'd started blushing a lot when around Dexter, and wasn't entirely sure as to what it meant. She patted his wool jacket and tried to smile, but found that everything she tried to do came out clumsy as a result of her furiously beating heart. Dexter seemed nonplussed, and almost oblivious to Bubbles's awkward reactions. He smiled at her and shrugged.

"I want to get this done quickly, because… I have a lot of work to do at home…" he said, and they both started walking towards the stairway that would lead them down onto the street. They moved through the last line of ticket gates, and started down the stairs.

"Me too… but I just want to get it done. I was going to hang around town for a while. You can come with me if you want… that is… unless you-" Bubbles started to say, but stopped and turned to look at Dexter, who had stopped on a step behind her. He was looking at her anxiously.

"Well… erm- it can wait…" he said lightly, brushing a strand of hair past his face. "I suppose if you want me too-"

"Of course I do! We can get lunch! Come on!" Bubbles cried, and without even realizing what she was doing, she latched onto his hand and started pulling him down the stairs. She looked back at him again, and he had the strangest expression on his face, and she almost thought that he too was blushing.

They both landed with a thump on the pavement below the stairs, and Bubbles instinctively let go of his hand, suddenly realizing that only boyfriend and girlfriend do that sort of thing. She felt just slightly embarrassed, but by his expression he didn't seem to have minded.

"Hey, Bubbles," Dexter started as they began walking down the sidewalk, dodging a group of children on bikes. Bubbles looked over at him, and was surprised to find him staring into her face. For a second she was taken aback.

"What… is there something wrong with my-"

"Huh?! No… I just noticed that you had your hair down today…" he said quietly, his eyes darting onto the road in front of them. Bubbles too looked away, and looked down at the ground. What an odd thing to notice…

"Oh… well I… I guess it was time for a change…" she said sheepishly, trying to come up for an explanation as if she'd done something wrong. Dexter looked back at her immediately, almost panic drive. He raised his hands and started waving them madly in the air.

"Ah! No, I didn't mean that it didn't look good… because… well.. I just thought you looked especially nice today, is all…" he said quietly, his voice so soft it almost seemed as if he was purposely keeping her from hearing. Bubbles once again felt her face growing red, and she tried to avoid his gaze, because she knew she was blushing. Just what in the hell is going on today?

She'd never really spent time with him outside of school, but for some reason this seemed overly strange to her. Bubbles had noticed that she'd grown rather attached to her new friend, and it was almost like he'd felt the same way. She'd always had the impression that he'd never had many girls as friends, and Bubbles always wondered why. Dexter was so genuine, and he had such a good heart… and he just seemed as if his intentions were in the right place. He was the first boy she'd ever met that had looked past her image as a Powerpuff Girl, and genuinely enjoyed her company as a real human being. Maybe that was why she almost felt… a little bit smitten.

And it was starting to get stronger with each passing week. Every time she saw him, she was always overcome with this overwhelming sense of happiness, and safety. She just felt so secure around him, and felt like she could easily tell him anything. He was her best friend… but lately… she'd started to feel like she wanted him to be even closer to her. What she really wanted was to be comforted, and to be told everything was alright, because her life was in so much chaos. She just wanted help, from someone outside of her battered family, and she wanted someone to be there as a pillar for her. To keep her stable and sane. Someone to protect her.

But perhaps that was ludicrous. Perhaps if by some miraculous chance he had some secret laboratory somewhere filled with giant robots and weapons, he'd be able to protect her from X. But that wasn't going to happen. That kind of thing happened in cartoons, not in real life.

She didn't even know if he felt the same way about her, and she was afraid to ask for fear of destroying the already wonderful relationship they had. Yet, a sense of awkward tension was growing between them that she didn't really like, but she had to wonder if it was because he was perhaps developing feelings for her too. Her friend Robyn was already teasing her… and perhaps if she saw something… then just maybe…

They were silent together, and Bubbles looked over at Dexter, whose face seemed very closed and strained. She sensed something in him, some sort of mystery that was just waiting to be uncovered. Maybe that was another reason why she had become infatuated with him. He was so mysterious, and he came off as being a boy who was very hardened, like he'd had to endure countless horrors in his past. Bubbles wanted to ask him, to talk to him, to learn about his past and to comfort him if needed, but she was always afraid to ask. Perhaps, some day, he'd tell her about his own life.

But now, she'd have to settle for wondering about the boy who was walking next to her, the handsome boy-genius who was hiding some sort of secret deep inside of him.