author's note: I made it! (for my timezone anyway). Song rec this time is Night Falls Down by vbnd, ft. Tola
Friday, Feb. 12
The Universe had a funny way of balancing things out.
If the scales were tipped too far in one direction, more often than not things would tip back and return to their even level.
Sometimes, the weight on one side was seemingly permanently altered to give favor, but even then, over time- no matter how long- the scales of the universe would right the wrongs, remove the weights and return things to normal.
Sometimes, it had the tendency to overcorrect.
But when the pendulum swings one way it will, certainly, swing the other.
Even when it doesn't seem like it.
Bubbles was woken up in the middle of the night to her phone ringing just beside her pillow. The alarm clock on her bedside table declared in too bright pixels that it was three in the morning. She hoped that whoever had woken her up would soon suffer the worst case of diarrhea they'd ever had. She squinted at the bright light, the name on the screen both surprising and irritating her. She answered and pressed her phone to her cheek.
"Butch, it is three a.m."
"Please just open up, Sweetcheeks, it's snowing out here."
Her brows furrowed and she slowly sat up in bed. "Excuse me?"
"I'm outside," he whispered into the speaker. "I don't know where your spare key is, Boom won't tell me. Open up, I don't wanna wake your neighbors."
"Why are you outside my apartment at three in the morning when we both have a morning class tomorrow?" She tossed the covers off of her with an irritated sigh, brushing tangled curls out of her face as she floated out of bed. Tomorrow (or, rather, later today) her makeshift cast would finally be removed, but until then she still had to use her powers to do most of her moving. On campus, she used the crutches that were currently ditched by her doorway, but there was no use for them outside of a flimsy coat rack while in her apartment.
There was a shuffling sound on the other end. "Listen, you're the only one who can help me right now. Are you gonna open up or not?"
Squeak!
The sound on the other end made her pause. "…you have a cat?" He sighed, but she kept going, her movements now faster than they were before. "I'm putting my bathrobe on right now, give me a second."
"Oooh, she sleeps naked?"
"Not even remotely," she snorted, rolling her eyes. She slept in her underwear, thank you very much, not that he ever needed to know that. She quickly slipped on a pair of fuzzy, sky blue pajama bottoms dappled with white polka dots, along with a pair of azure bunny slippers, lovingly worn with age. Butch muttered something under his breath about tits and lightsabers and the cold, then whined again for her to 'please hurry the fuck up'. With another snort she tied her white bathrobe tightly around her waist, a fond smile quirking the corner of her mouth despite herself. "Alright, alright, you big baby. I'm heading to the door, hanging up now."
She hung up the call before he could protest.
Her phone was dropped off at the coffee table in front of her couch just before she got to the door, and when she opened it she hardly noticed the cold blasting into her apartment, threatening to seep into her tired bones.
Two kittens sat in his hands, curled into little balls that purred and nuzzled into the heat of his scarred palms. One was pure black and sat perched in his right hand, the other mostly white with little black socks and a black tail swished lazily in his left.
"Warm. Safe," their purrs said.
Her heart melted as she looked up at Butch with wide, ever blue eyes. She had never expected him to invite such little peanuts in enough for them to feel so content and safe around him. "Where did you find them? They're so small," she whispered as she stepped out of the way so he could come in. The time no longer mattered to her, the two little loaves in his hands infinitely more important than the lecture she had to attend in just a few short hours. He came in and she shut the door behind him, startled at how out of it he seemed. He was a shivering mess, frost and snow clinging to the sleeves of his leather jacket and pants. His tank top was coated in grease, oil and sweat under his jacket, and his hair looked like he had been snatched up by a wind turbine.
"I found them on the way home from the shop."
Carefully, tenderly Bubbles lifted the black cat out of his hand when he held it out to her, cradling the tiny thing to her breasts. The kitten's bright green eyes opened, wide and curious, and a squeaky meow that reminded her of a childhood toy was her greeting.
"Well hello to you too," she said, her nose wrinkling as she smiled. "Are you hurt anywhere?"
The kitten meowed again and she hummed.
Butch looked at her expectantly, now able to take his jacket off easier with one of his hands freed. It still wasn't easy, and he had to maneuver the white kitten back and forth a bit, but he was able to get more relaxed all the same.
"He's too young to fully understand me. They're barely a month old, maybe five weeks, if I had to wager a guess. They'll probably need milk or formula," she said. Her brows furrowed then, her head tilting to the side. "Can I ask why you were at the shop at two in the morning?"
"Am I allowed to leave it at 'I couldn't sleep'?" he asked back, his tone a little defensive.
The blonde nodded without a moment's hesitation. He didn't want to talk about it and she wasn't going to force it. "You are. Let's get these two in the kitchen sink for a bath. They're cold and wet and smell like salty river water and fish."
"Well someone had them in a bag by the river, so that would be why."
His tone was murderous, and she couldn't blame him. Her heart ached for the kittens. "Poor babies… I'll take them into the clinic tomorrow after class and get some tests run." Her eyes started glowing blue as she checked over the little one curled to her chest. She pulled him away, holding him by his armpits while she checked for any breaks, bruising or abnormalities in his system. "His x-rays are gonna come back clean, at least."
"And this one?" he asked as he held the white one out to her.
Its eyes opened and shone a tealish blue, reminding her of sparkling mint ice cream on a warm summer's day. "Oh, she's got such pretty eyes." Butch carefully lifted the black kitten out of her hands, placing the white one in her eagerly waiting palms so she could look her over as well. He sighed through his nose, desperately trying to murder the urge to tap his foot impatiently. Panic had skittered along his spine when he had checked the two infants over after freeing them from their would-be graves, their skeletons misshapen and entirely foreign to his eyes. He had decimated a huge chunk of concrete and earth taking off to get here, terrified that he had been too late, that they were dying in his arms and he would be the very last thing they ever saw. The tension melted from his body when he saw the warm smile curling Bubbles' lips, and his shoulders sagging as if a great weight had been lifted. Thank the fucking gods they were okay. "Thank goodness she's also got clean x-rays. No broken bones or anything like that."
The kitten mewled and snuggled against the blonde's chest, her purrs reminding him of the engine of a kiddie toy bike he'd gotten in a kids meal once.
"She getting sassy?" Butch asked, raising an eyebrow.
Bubbles shook her head and smiled. "No, she just wants to nap. Will you hold both of them while I start a bath for them and grab my soaps?"
He nodded and took the kitten back from her, following after her as she bounded into the kitchen. He watched her as she carefully searched for the proper water temperature, his heart doing a funny little jump when she exclaimed 'a-ha!' with a tiny clap of joy before placing the stopper in the sink. The boy, still awake and alert and not as tired as his sister, mewled in protest when the blonde bounced out of the room, distraught that she was suddenly out of sight and he wasn't allowed to follow.
"I'll be right back!" she called back after the kitten who, again, mewled in protest.
The lass made quick work of checking the cabinet beneath her bathroom sink for the bottles of sensitive skin, medical grade wash that she'd taken home from the clinic. They had had more than enough surplus, and though it was prohibited, she had managed to convince them it was necessary for her to have them. As a part-time hero, she had said (her hands clenched into trembling, determined fists, her eyes pleading with them to understand) she could end up bringing any number of animals home in the dead of night when the office doors weren't open. She thanked her lucky stars every day that Doctor Iyasu was ever compassionate towards animals (even if he was a little cold towards people), otherwise he might not have agreed.
She grabbed two towels and jogged back into the kitchen, smiling at the antsy little guy in Butch's hand. "I'm back, I'm back, stop causing trouble."
Meeew!
"You're a little troublemaker." She laughed quietly, stopping the water.
Noticing the odd silence of her more human companion, Bubbles looked up at his face curiously. His eyes were on her- intense. Searching, yet again, for something she didn't know if he would ever find. "…Butch?"
He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. What do I need to do, for now?"
Her brows pinched in worry. "…at least tell me if it involves me? Or if I can do anything to help?"
His eyes averted to the two kittens in his hands. "There's nothing you can do right now, but I'll let you know if that changes."
It did involve her.
She exhaled slowly but dropped it. She respected him and his privacy too much. She also knew how much it fucking sucked to be pushed into talking about something that she wasn't ready to talk about. "I'm here if you think of something I can do. Right now, hand them to me. I'll wash them. You can go settle into the guest room, if you need. If not, I'll need my blow dryer out of the bathroom to help get them fully dry once they're done."
"I honestly don't think I'll be getting any sleep tonight, but thank you for the offer."
It was painfully formal.
"It's there just in case. Boomer left some of his stuff behind in the bottom drawers of the dresser," she continued as she took the two from his hands again. "I figure too-small-tight shorts or tight sweatpants are better than soaked jeans, at least."
He was silent as he turned around and went to the room, concern gnawing viciously away at her insides as she listened to his retreating, muffled steps. He had been nothing but respectful to her and her boundaries when she had made them known, she reminded herself, resisting the urge to chase after him—she would give him that same respect. It was the very least that she could do. It wouldn't stop her from worrying about him, about... whatever it was that was going on. It wasn't often that the green Ruff looked so stern about anything anymore, preferring instead to laugh his way through seemingly anything, letting life's concerns roll off his back.
Seemingly…
Mew!
Startled, her attention snapped back to the kits when the little girl meowed up at her, indignant and downright offended at being ignored, however briefly. It was enough to make Bubbles smile, though just a little. "Alright, alright, you have my full attention now. Let's get this nasty water off of you and get you nice and clean, okay?"
There was an angry meow, accompanied by vengeful hissing when she put the white kitten into the water.
"Okay, okay, you don't like it. You don't have to," she rushed out, carefully testing her luck by placing the boy in the water. Like their personalities had shifted, he laid down in the warm water with that signature cat loaf, purring like an engine. The feeling of comfort rolled off of him in waves, the warm water and her presence soothing him. The blonde sighed and looked between the two. "Why can't you be like your brother and just like the water?"
Mew!
"I know, fussypants." She scooped the warm and clean water up with one hand, rubbing it into her fur as she quickly grabbed the shampoo bottle. "You aren't happy, I know."
Mew! Mew! MeEeEEEW!
"He's not gonna help you." She laughed breathlessly, watching the way the young kit tried to climb the wall of the sink after Butch, despite him having left from sight about five minutes ago now. "You're at my mercy now" She squirted some of the shampoo into the palm of her hands dramatically, laughing evilly all the while. The kitten hissed, but she ignored the little warning and started massaging the shampoo into her fur. Despite her grumbling little growls, she soon found herself leaning into Bubbles' palms, purring softly as she was massaged.
"See? It's not so bad."
If the kitten could understand her, Bubbles was sure that she would scoff. She was far from being happy about the water, and made that clear.
Mrrrrrrr.
"Your brother looks just fine, you know." That earned her an upset meow in response. "Yes he does. See? Not meowing, not hissing, he's being a good boy."
Mew! came his little, happy, agreeing meow.
Bubbles then shampooed the boy, causing his purrs to increase dramatically in volume. She was genuinely surprised that such a tiny thing could be so loud. "You're a weird one, huh. Not many kitties like baths this much, you know. You're awfully cute, though."
Meow!
She giggled and finished lathering him up. By the time he was done, she was ready to come back to his simmering sister and started working the lather out of her fur, rinsing her off with a cup of water. She loathed this, and her yowl of protest startled even Bubbles. "I've got to rinse you! You're acting like I just dropped you in acid!"
The kitten yowled again, and Bubbles was half-convinced by the glare that was tossed her way that her demise was being plotted.
One thing that stood out to the blonde was how the kitten wiggled and yowled but never once struck out at her or used her claws to force her to stop. It amused her to no end, how much this tiny thing reminded her of Brick; complaining, griping, screaming all the while but doing it anyway because she knew it needed to be done.
"Is she torturing you, Candy?"
"Candy?" Bubbles asked, looking over her shoulder at Butch as he came around the corner, her unplugged blowdryer in hand. He was a large man and did very well to hide his footsteps when he wasn't lost within his own mind. She had been easily alerted to his approach, and when her gut twisted at the thought she shook her head, taking a deep breath through her nose. No. She wouldn't think about that now, she told herself, forcing a smile to her mouth. Later… later, when she had the time.
Butch stepped closer, running a hand through his damp hair. He was shirtless, sporting a pair of Boomer's black sweatpants that he'd rolled up to the halfway point of his calves. A pair of faded black socks and the piercings in his ears were the only other things that he had on, and Bubbles swallowed thickly, her mouth going desert dry. Keep it together, you dummy! You've seen him shirtless before! "You're naming her Candy?"
"She looks like white cotton candy to me with that wispy fur of hers." He leaned over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "...well, it was wispy. By the way, I tossed my clothes in your washer. Don't know what else was in there, but I added mine to it and started it."
Bubbles laughed and quickly looked back at the kitten to finish rinsing her off, refusing to even acknowledge how difficult it was to keep her eyes up top. "That's fine. I can always send Boomer a text to show up in the morning with extra clothes, if you need?"
"I already told him to bring me a change of clothes in the morning. Thanks for the offer, though."
She smiled. "Put that on the counter there and just grab one of those towels. Get her as dry as you can, and then I'll finish up with my blow dryer."
"Wouldn't that be too hot for their skin?"
His voice was soft, tinged with care, and it tugged at her heartstrings. "Nah, don't worry, there's a cool air option on it. I just gotta turn off the heat."
He smirked at her when he picked up the towel as per instructions. "You're starting to talk like me."
"Groooooss, you're rubbing off on me?" She made a fake, disgusted face and stuck her tongue out.
"You know you love it." He made a kissy face at her, doing his best to make his lips as cartoonishly big as possible.
She rolled her eyes, a devilish glint in her eyes when an idea popped into her head. He looked more than a tad wary when a Grinch-like smile curled her mouth and she shook her head, lifting the soaking wet kitten for him to take. "Take this wet pussy."
"Utonium," he balked, his forest eyes wide and shocked, his cheeks blooming bright pink. "Fuckin… language."
He was more startled that it had come from her than he was about the actual words themselves.
Bubbles laughed brightly, snorting on her inhale as he took Candy from her hands. It took her a moment to stop laughing, but she went back to rinsing off the other kitten. "Fine, Blossom. I guess I can't have fun with my wet pussy."
"Bubbles Fucking Utonium," Butch whisper-scolded, his tone just as playful as hers.
The blonde couldn't take him very seriously when his lopsided smirk had made its way back to his face. Without thinking, she hummed happily and said, "I'm glad you're smiling again."
His flush got a bit darker, and though his smirk wavered a bit, it ultimately stayed.
That was more than enough for her.
That smirk of his soon grew devious. "I'll always smile when you talk about your wet pussy to me."
He waggled his brows and she laughed brightly again, turning back to finish rinsing up the little boy. "Have you picked a name for him?"
"I can't keep both of them." All traces of deviousness were gone in the blink of an eye, his brows pinching together as he frowned. "I don't have the time to take care of both of them, and my landlord wouldn't allow it. I'd love to keep them together, but I—"
"Coffee," she said, cutting him off. "I'll take him, if you take her. We can keep them somewhat together that way."
He looked over at her and smiled softly. "…Coffee, huh?"
"He reminds me of black coffee, duh," she scoffed with a roll of her eyes. She didn't want to admit that the only two that drank straight black coffee were the two of them, and that was only because she drank it that way to wake up or get caffeine. It was a means to an end, never for the pleasure of it. With the amount of sugars and flavors she puts in her midday fraps and lattes, she didn't think they really counted as coffee anymore. That and, when the little guy looked up at her with his bright green eyes, she didn't think she could name him anything that didn't remind her of Butch.
Not that she was ever going to say that out loud.
He chuckled. "Coffee and Candy it is, then. Like I was saying, earlier, I'd keep them both if my landlord let me have more than one pet at a time."
Bubbles smiled and pulled the water stopper out of the drain. Coffee batted at the water as it swirled away, as though that would stop it from leaving. His one-sided fight to keep the water in the sink was cut short when she lifted him from it and wrapped him in the second towel. "You can bring her over anytime, though, and vice versa. Your landlord can't be mad if it's just a playdate, right?"
His laugh warmed her heart. "I mean, you're not wrong, I guess."
"If you're not gonna sleep tonight, how do you feel about watching one of my movies?" she asked, carrying both Coffee and the hair dryer to the living room. She'd have to sit on the floor to be by an outlet, but it was better than doing it on the counter where with one wrong move, they could squirm away, jump off and hurt themselves.
He seemed hesitant as he followed her. "…that depends. What is it?"
"Let me guess, no romance movies?"
"I'm not that much of an asshole," he scoffed. "I just wanna know what it is first."
"I'm thinking about Grease."
He raised his eyebrows, snorting in amusement. "You're thinking about Grease because I'm a mechanic and you're Sandra Dee."
Her eyes sparkled in the artificial lights. "That's not the reason why, but if it flatters you to think that then I won't fight back."
"Damn." He put a hand over his chest in mock-hurt, stumbling back a couple steps as if he'd been struck. His lower lip jutted out, trembling, and when she mimicked him he broke down into laughter, his shoulders shaking as he moved to sit next to her. Ever the drama queen, the big butthole.
He picked up the extra towel, wondering why it was an easier time fighting off monsters than it was toweling off this snippy little shit. "You don't wanna go to the fair with me?"
"Oh, I'd actually really love to," she answered honestly. "I just really love Grease. I've wanted a Thunderbird for years now because of that movie."
He shook his head at that. "Why am I not surprised?"
"Don't judge me."
"You judged me for liking the Fast and Furious movies."
"And I learned my lesson because I changed my mind about them," she offered with a cheeky grin. "Though, if you really have a problem with Grease, we could watch some really bad Christmas movies instead?"
His eyes seemed to sparkle at that. "I don't actually have a problem with Grease, let me make that clear, but bad Christmas movies, you say? Is there such a thing?"
She nodded solemnly, her expression becoming grave. "Oh yes, yes there are. I'd honestly argue that most Christmas movies are bad, considering how many there are."
"I highly doubt it."
"I can think of one where Santa deflates when he dies, one where a woman's long lost twin comes back and steals her man, one where—"
"Santa deflates?!" He laughed out loud. "That sounds awesome, what are you talking about bad?!"
They continued their lighthearted bickering about bad films as she finished blow drying the kittens. The cheesiest Christmas movies were some of the worst—now that much they agreed on.
Some were too cookie cutter, but some had such weird plots and characters that they forced you to pay attention to them. In the end they decided on one about an Athurian knight, traveling into the far future to search for his one true love with an old forest witch's blessing. There was a time limit—because of course there was—a mere seven days before he would be brought back home forever, losing any chance of happiness. Though as crazy (and stupid as hell) as all that was, they both agreed it was way more fucking realistic than his future lady love owning her own house and a getaway log cabin in the mountains on a high school science teacher's salary.
"I hate everything about this. Fuck the both of 'em." Butch scowled at the happy, soon-to-be couple as they decorated the giant ass Christmas tree in the living room of her log cabin, the two of them laughing as the knight somehow managed to hopelessly tangle himself up in the colorful, blinking lights. "Owning a house is a fucking luxury you gotta earn. It'd be great to finally get in one 'cause then I wouldn't have to listen to my neighbors loudly fuck at five in the morning."
Bubbles snorted loudly, startling Coffee, who had finally begun dozing off. She rubbed his back in a silent apology, earning her a tiny sneeze and a pleased mewl. "Trust me, I know what you mean. My neighbors like to argue about taxes and hideous tie collections." It was the last time that night she heard him laugh—as the movie rolled on he grew quieter, his complaints about how terrible the entire thing was becoming less frequent, until finally they simply stopped altogether.
For the rest of the night, as terrible Christmas movie after terrible Christmas movie played, the quiet sound of his breathing was the only noise he ever made. She could feel it when he gave up watching them entirely in favor of looking at her, the deep forests of his eyes weighing on her like a second gravity as they followed her every movement. They studied her like she was some sort of intricate puzzle, and at one point she chanced a look out of the corner of her eye, her heart sputtering at how dark and lost they looked—how desperate and hopeful and confused. It made her throat clog with some unknown emotion, her fingers slightly trembling as she buried them in Coffee's fur. She didn't know what to make of that... of any of this, really, and so she simply pretended that she was oblivious to everything, pushing it all back into the far, far corners of her mind.
It was fine. Everything was fine.
What proved to be the final movie of the night found her laughing too often, too forcefully at the ridiculousness of an entire country's culture and economy being based on one holiday, and while the main girl lied to the prince about being his younger sister's new tutor they moved from the floor to the couch, making themselves comfortable with the kittens nestled snugly between them.
Bubbles didn't know when they'd passed out during it, honestly—all she knew for certain was that she was woken up way too damn soon by Boomer nudging her shoulder gently the next morning.
Her eyes opened in time to catch their positions.
She was leaning against the arm of the couch, her head and shoulders on the arm itself while the rest of her body sprawled across the cushions. On her chest lay Coffee, a loudly purring ball of black fur. Just past him was Butch, his head against her stomach, his arms around her torso and his legs curled awkwardly at the end of the couch. On his back, between his shoulder blades, was Candy.
He was drooling on her.
Her eyes turned to Boomer, who looked just as confused as she did.
"Boomie?"
"...everything good?" he asked quietly, his brows pinched in concern.
She lifted her hands to rub her eyes sleepily. Her television was still playing through one of the cheesy Christmas movies that it'd managed to automatically roll into. "Yeah? What time is it?"
"Almost six thirty."
"Shit. Butch." She reached down to nudge his shoulder, gentle despite her urgency. Candy meowed in protest at the motion, and it was enough to make him jerk his head up. "I've got thirty minutes to get to my class, get off me."
"What?" he mumbled. He looked down, his chin wet with drool, then immediately sat up when he realized what was going on. "Sorry 'bout that. Fuck, what time is it?"
"Almost six thirty," Boomer said, his tone a little darker.
Butch looked up to see the blond there, holding his clothes in hand. Butch had an hour to get ready to leave, unlike Bubbles. His first class—his only class today—was at eight. "What time do you get out?"
"Oh, I get out at eight-thirty. I'll probably be back here by nine thirty to ten-ish? I've gotta swing by Dad's to get him to take my cast off," Bubbles called out to him as she hurried to her room, shutting the door. She sounded breathless as she rushed, trying about to get ready. "How long will they be here alone?"
"About two hours or so, then. I gotta leave at seven thirty to make my eight o'clock."
"I have to leave five minutes ago," Bubbles grumbled loud enough for them to hear.
"Is anyone gonna tell me what the hell is going on?" Boomer asked, exasperated.
Butch picked up the two kittens, neither sounding too happy about being moved around so much so soon after waking. "Found these two last night. Brought them over here so she could help make sure they were fine."
Boomer narrowed his eyes further, squaring his shoulders. He opened his mouth, then quickly snapped it shut with a painful click of teeth as Bubbles bounded out of her room, floating the whole way. She grabbed her keys, then reached up to place a large kiss on Boomer's cheek—an act of affection that was only ever given to him, her sisters and dad. "I'll be back after I get Dad to take this splint off. Whoever leaves last, lock up. If you don't, I'm gutting both of you."
Butch narrowed his eyes back at his brother. "I'll make sure it gets locked up."
"If I decide to leave," the blond countered. "I might stick around. These two need a babysitter, no?"
"Just don't fight and blow up my stuff, or I really will gut you both!"
