10. Butch's Mistake

The Katharine dropped out of the starlit sky on to the snowy ground and skated to a stop. Eventually. If she'd been solid, a couple of dustbins would have gone flying.

"Ha, not so smug now," said Brick – it was clear that he didn't get the better of his horse often. His was also not to be one of those times, as Katharine calmly rocked him and Butch off in to the snow, before trotting off to find some sugar cubes.

Butch picked himself up out of the snow, shivering.

"It-t-t-ts c-c-col-l-d h-er-re-e" he said. Brick did not seem to be suffering at all.

"Should get a robe like mine. What, you thought it was just for fashion?"

"Wh-ha-t are w-we-we he-ea-ar for?"

"Don't you recognise where 'here' is?"

Butch looked around. It took him a while to realise where he was. It looked so different in the snow and with the futuristic vehicles and buildings on the horizon. But he got it eventually.

"That's my house!" he said. Brick nodded.

"Shall we take a look?"

They pressed themselves up against the window. Inside it was dark and dull. Butch could see himself sitting on the floor, but that was about it. It very dingy and quite inside, but Butch seemed to be concentrating hard on something. Outside, Butch sighed.

"Oh great!" he said, "The cheerful one is the one when I've gone mad, and spend all my time doing puzzles in the dark!"

"Really," said Brick with an air of smugness, "you must be able to see better than me then."

"Why."

"You'll se…"

Suddenly lights came on everywhere. Sparkling, multicoloured and slightly cheap Christmas lights, (well, tis the season…) flashed up all over the house, inside and outside.

"YES!" shouted the Butch inside. "I DID IT!"

Buttercup appeared from upstairs. She glanced around the dazzling array of coloured lights.

"You found the broken one?" she asked.

"Yep, it was in only the 50th one I tried! What were the chances of that?"

"Humm, out of 50,000 lights, about one thousand to one," Buttercup murmured as she wondered over to him. Butch stuck his arm out and took her in holding her against his chest.

"We seem to be pretty good with that probability," he chuckled, looking straight in too her deep green eyes. She smiled slightly, but it wasn't really necessary. He knew what she was thinking.

The embrace was cut off abruptly by the sound of crying. Buttercup pushed Butch away.

"Sorry," she said and she retreated back upstairs.

"Don't be, it's fifty percent my fault!" he called after her, before turning back to his Christmas lights. "This is brilliant, for the first time, I have my lights up before that smug bastard of a neighbour! Still, we don't usually get snow in February. "

The sound of crying came down stares with Buttercup. In her arms, the little ball, complete with huge green round eyes, was screaming for all it was worth. However cute his son was, Butch still found himself putting his hands over his ears.

"He needs food!" Buttercup shouted over the din.

"Okay!" Butch glanced at his watch, "Hey the Superbowl will be starting in a moment, do you want me to put it on?"

"What?" Buttercup plugged the bottle into the baby's mouth, and took her ear plugs out.

"I said, Hey the Superbowl will be starting in a moment, do you want me to put it on?"

"Sure!" this was the expected response, when did Buttercup ever refuse the chance to see some mindless violence. Butch grabbed the flicker to turn the T.V on, and before they knew it, Brick and Butch were back in the alley.

"Hey, I was enjoying that!" moaned Butch. His brother shrugged.

"Sorry, but I can't show you anything you can bet on."

"Oh." Butch looked rather perplexed; it was difficult to know what to say next. "What happens now?" he asked. Brick wondered over to Katharine, who had returned with sugar cubes.

"That's your choice. I'd suggest that you go back to Buttercup. She really loves you, and I know you love her. Just remember what you saw, okay. And I'll see you again, eventually." He mounted his white steed.

"Err, won't you get rather lonely till then," asked Butch. Brick paused.

"I managed fifteen years, I can manage another three." He caught Butch's expression, and started laughing again. Butch was not happy.

"Are the "you're going to die" jokes the only ones you can manage?"

"Sorry. No, I'll be fine. Death gave me something to help me get by." He opened up a saddle bag, and pulled something out. "I hope you don't mind," he said.

Butch just stared at the gurgling spirit of his first, unbornchild. Brick watched him. "Do you want to hold her?" he asked. Butch stuck out his hands, but drew them back again.

"No. I'd never be able to let go," he said. Then he looked at his brother. "You're going to look after her?" he asked.

"If that's okay with you."

"Nothing would make me happier bro."

Brick filled the awkward male silence by putting the baby back into the saddle bag.

"Tell Boomer I said hi, and that I'll be at his wedding," Brick managed a little laugh, although he didn't really feel like it.

"I will. What do you want me to tell Blossom?"

Brick paused for a long time. He now looked in pain.

"If you must tell her something,tell her I forgive her," he said eventually, chocking something back. Then he smiled weakly, before snapping the reigns. Before Butch knew it, his brother, and this first baby, had gone.

Butch awoke sometime latter. He hadn't moved an inch from where he'd been when the bartender had chucked him out. The green ruff was very stiff when he tried to move.

What a strange dream, he reflected, as he staggered to his feet. Still, it had had an important message in it, even if it had been a figment of his imagination. Also, he was feeling fairly sober, so it was time to go back to Buttercup. He just hoped she'd had a revelation like he had.

Butch had barely stepped out of the alley however, and just got a sense of his bearings, when he was hit by a blast in the side of the head. He was sent barrelling through a crowd of people, and slid to a stop in a heap against a wall. Butch picked himself up to see who'd done it. Some how, it didn't totally surprise him.

"Listen you, I'm far to busy for this," He said. Princess shrugged.

"I don't care about that, YOU have to try and arrest me!" she said smugly.

"Wha…"

"I did something original, something cunning. So you have to arrest me, if you can, as you said you would this morning. Mind you," she continued, "it isn't as satisfying to blow those puffs up with antidote X as it is to beat them to a pulp, but it did put two of them in hospital, so…"

She got no further. Butch's left hand went flying into her stomach, winding her completely, before his left hand grasped her by the neck, and smashed her up against the wall. He kept a very tight grip.

"You did what!" he hissed. Princess struggled.

"Your… chocking… me…" A large crowd had stopped to watch by now.

"YOU KILLED MY BABY!" Butch was sieving with anger. Green bolts of energy where beginning to leap off his hands and his eyeswere burning with rage. But Princess wasn't to be beaten that easily.

"Well, you should have done your job properly this morning and arrested me! Then your unborn kid would still be unborn, rather than never born!"

The words hit him like a dagger to the heart. She was right. It was his fault. He'd failed his child, by trying to be lazy and smug. And he'd failed Buttercup. Twice in one day. Still, he had his hand round the murders neck.

"You little freak! Why I ort to…"

What? What ort he do? Kill her? That was a quick way to get himself executed, especially considering the lawyers Princess's farther could hire. He could blame himself, but that would only lead down the worst route. The one with the bridge… So he decided to learn from his mistake.

"…I ort to inform you that you have the right to remain silent," Butch finished through gritted teeth, "your under arrest for arson and the attempted murders of Buttercup Jojo and Bubbles Utonium."

Right, you know the drill. Please review. Oh yes, and don't forget to answer my question from the previous chapter. There is only one more to go…