2. Edward Steps In

Five am. Blossom stumbled down the stairs yawning. She knew she should be used to this by now – morning patrols were now always on her schedule – but yesterday had been a long day.

Food would help though. She pushed open the kitchen door, only to find that the lights were on.

"Eddy?" she said surprised.

"What," he said, "can't I make my own wife breakfast?"

"Yes but… but I thought you would be," Blossom tried to think of a tactful way to say it, but she couldn't find one. "I thought you'd be completely wasted."

"I'm fine," he responded indignantly. Blossom grabbed a chair and scraped it on the floor slightly, sending Eddy reaching for his head. "Anyway, I can't let you go to work without a good breakfast," he finished as he popped some aspirin.

"So what's it today," she asked as she sat down. Eddy looked down at the plate he was preparing.

"Err, mainly waffles and syrup. But I've thrown some eggs in. Lots of sugar, it will wake you up." He placed the plate in front of Blossom, who eyed it slightly suspiciously. It was mostly fat, so much so that the eggs were floating on the surface. But it was the thought that counted, she supposed, so she tucked in. It wasn't too bad either. Just about.

Butch rolled over. Something was ringing in his ear. His head absolutely killed. He sat up. Buttercup wasn't in the bed with him, but it was only seven thirty. And the blasted ringing was still going.

It took the hangover ruff a moment to orientate himself, when he realised it was the phone.

"Hello?" he croaked.

"GOOD MORNING!" a familiar voice bellowed down the phone, "THAT IS TO SAY THAT THE EARLIER PART OF THE DAY IS A PREFARBLE SITUTATION, WHICH MEANS TO BE…"

Butch pulled his aching head away until the shouting had stopped.

"You really are evil Mojo," he said quietly, "at least I didn't have a parole office as my guest to the wedding."

"Yes," said the monkey impatiently, "but I got rid of him, that is to say that I…"

Butch got up, realised he was naked, got a towel, a coffee and made some semblance of a recovery by the time Mojo had finished rambling.

"Okay, so you're out of prison, what can I do for you? And stick to the point please."

"I need you to help me back into the super villain loop! What's good and what's bad to be involved with now?"

"Now, 'dad'," Butch said calmly, "I'm a superhero now, I'm not exactly the best person to ask that." He paused so the monkey could snigger. "However," he continued, double checking Buttercup wasn't in the room, "the kidnapping of that Mary Jane Parker girl seems to have us a bit foxed, you could try and get in with that."

"Too late, they sent the ransom note this morning."

"Well, it's the clever crimes like that which are the most successful right now, so you could kidnap some Hollywood superstar, and I could see that the case is miss handled, for a small fee." Butch swung the phone round in his hand like a gun, before catching it.

"Okay, I'll try that." The line went dead, so Butch got up to see if he could find Buttercup.

It didn't take long. "Being sick?" he asked as he pushed open the bathroom door. Buttercup was sitting down, staring straight ahead.

"I wish," she muttered. Butch paused, and glanced over at the bin. A used pregnancy test sat on the top. He didn't even need to read the result though. He walk over too her, and took her hand, squeezing it gently.

"It's okay," he said, "we'll get there one day." She stood up and looked at him, tears in her emerald green eyes.

"I know" she whispered, and Butch held her tight for some precious quite moments.

"MJ GET UP!" Eddy shouted up the stairs. He strode back into the kitchen. It was now 8:15. "What's with that girl at the moment?"

His eldest, Edward, looked up from the last few pieces of his breakfast. "I don't like to gossip," he said mischievously, "but she has claimed to be seeing people with large scythes rather a lot." Eddy blinked.

"I better go talk to her," he said, and left.

Now alone, Edward licked the final morsels of food off his plate, and then sat back for a moment. Calmly, he scooped the plate up, and started to 'use' it as a steering wheel. It wasn't long before he was making appropriate engine noises too (well he is ten.) Unfortunately, he dropped the plate while making an imaginary gear change.

"WHAT WAS THAT?"

"Nothing," Edward said hurriedly, as he tried to clear up the mess. He gave up and left the kitchen to grab his bag, maybe Dad wouldn't find it till he'd gone. MJ stumbled down stairs with Eddy behind her, just as the school bus pulled up.

"Oh Fu…fiddlesticks," Eddy corrected, "no time for breakfast MJ, you should have got up earlier." He thrust her a lunchbox. "Have a good day dear."

MJ merely nodded and left without a word, so as Eddy handed Edward a lunchbox, he whispered to him, "keep an eye on your sister son."

Hence followed a very small tantrum.

8:50. MJ had put it off as long as she could. There was no point hanging around the front of the school for ever, at some point she'd have to go round the corner. And they'd be waiting for her. They always were.

She walked round, as she did every morning, trying not to show fear, like either of her aunts, or their superhero companions would. She wasn't very good at it though. But… maybe, she couldn't see the too bullies, Nick and George, for once. A glimmer of hope leapt through her. Maybe they weren't in…

It was extinguished with a bust of pain. George grabbed her by the hair, and lifted her up by it. MJ screamed in pain, but was quickly silenced by a blow to the gut. Nick laughed, as did his fellow eight year old, (two years older then MJ), before hitting her again. The process repeated, until Nick got bored, and grabbed her lunch box. George continued to hold her up by her hair, which since she was half puff, was not going to break.

If MJ had known that she was half puff, she probably would have been able to escape. Instead she hang their in agony, tears streaming down her face, praying for a miracle, as in front of her a daily ritual took place. Nick striped the box of anything taste, and was in the process of destroying the remaining food (George egging him on all the while) when he came across something strange.

"I thought you didn't like yogurts," he sneered. MJ winced. She didn't. But she knew who did.

Two hands fell gently, one on Nick's shoulder, and one on George's. The two boys looked round in fear. MJ nearly cried with joy (and pain).

"Excuse me," said Edward gently, but menacingly, "but you two miserable, pathetic jerks appear to be holding two things of mine. My lunchbox and my SISTER!"

Sorry if that didn't flow very well. Please review. Thanks.