I do not own the Power Puff Girls or the Rowdy Ruff Boys.

Chapter Five: Dark Paradise

Buttercup stared at her phone and sighed as she saw the growing number of missed calls from her friends and family. She had yet to respond to any of them as she wasn't sure what to say. Least of all to her father. He already didn't care too much for Butch. Their latest stunt wasn't sure to gain him any points. As the green Power Puff closed out of her phone and turned it face down, she caught sight of the ring adorning her left finger. Her wedding ring. It was gorgeous—she couldn't deny that—but it felt wrong. She'd married Butch under the influence of booze and narcotics.

Thinking about it now, she remembered how aware she was of everything, but at the same time in a fog. It was an out of body experience—especially the wedding night. The swingers couple they'd encountered somehow convinced them to have a shared night of intimacy. She shivered just thinking about it.

"What is it?" Butch asked from his place beside her, reclined on the sand with his hands behind his back.

Buttercup turned to look at her husband and failed to repress the moan of frustration. "What in the fuck is the matter with us?"

"Be more specific about what you mean by that." He asked was he moved only his emerald eyes to look at her.

Rubbing her hands over her face, Buttercup looked through her fingers at Butch. "We're married. You spent ten thousand dollars on a ring. We had a foursome. What about any of this has you so calm after only a week?"

"Who says I'm calm?" Butch said as he sat up beside Buttercup looking her intensely in the eye. "I'm furious."

Buttercup eyed him critically, looking for any sign that he was lying. His eyes were a blazing green that she feared would singe her to the bone. "Could've fooled me." She dared to say.

"We got swept up by a couple of swingers, who gave us booze spiked with ecstasy. We wound up getting married after I dropped ten grand on the ring that's on your finger. And to top it all off, our 'wedding night' was spent with said swingers." Butch's hand was clenched into a fist so tight, Buttercup was sure his knuckles would break the skin. "I still can't believe I let another man touch you, or that I touched another woman."

Buttercup felt mixed feelings about that statement and wasn't sure how to respond. As she tried to think of what to say, Butch continued on turning his face away from her so he wouldn't have to see her reaction to his words.

"What's worst is that in the moment, I didn't care." He then slammed his fist into the ground, causing a cloud of sand to rise up. His hand then ground the sand behind his fist into powder. "I felt good, and I saw you feel good with him touching you. And because we were both feeling good, it felt like it didn't matter that we weren't the ones giving each other pleasure."

A gasp broke from between Buttercup's lips. She hadn't realized that Butch felt similarly to her about what happened. The pleasure she'd felt while with that other guy shouldn't have been comparable in any way to what she had with Butch. It made her chest tight just thinking that what she has with Butch isn't as special as she'd liked to think. Her hand found its way to her chest and clenched her shirt over where her heart was. "What does that mean for us then?"

Butch glanced at Buttercup, brow furrowed. "What about us? Everything's that happened is over and done with."

"So we just pretend that this doesn't change anything?" she asked with her eyes welling up with tears.

"What are you talking about? What's changed?" he asked.

"Everything!" She screamed while standing up and walking down toward the surf that was brushing against the shore. The tears she had been trying to hold at bay slipped down her face in hot streams down her cheeks.

From his place in the shade, Butch watched her have the beginnings of a freak out. Groaning out loud, he stood up and dusted the same off his black cargo shorts. "Buttercup!" He walked up to her and tried to reach out to her. The moment she felt him touch her, she swung her arm out and smacked his hand away. "Buttercup!"

Her face was a mess with the red blotches on her cheeks, nose pinkened, lips trembling from repressed sobs. "How can you say nothing's changed, when everything's changed?" she screamed at him.

"Why am I not surprised that you're freaking out about this?" he started. "I just knew you were going to blow up about that. Damn it, if I were to see those two bastards again!"

"If you fucking knew how I'd feel then why haven't you said anything?" she screamed while throwing a punch at him, which he easily blocked.

Butch then charged Buttercup and using her startled state, managed to wrestle her the ground and pin her. His legs held her down while his hands held her wrists prostrate. Buttercup continued to struggle before Butch pressed his lips to hers. He only pulled back when he felt a sharp pain on his lower lip. She'd bitten him and then spat in his face. "Cut it out!"

"It didn't matter to you, did it? It was easy to have others be let in on what was only supposed to be between us, wasn't it? How could you not care?" she screamed at him. "Get off me!"

"Not until you listen to me, damn it!" he yelled back at her. "It doesn't matter, because it doesn't change how I feel about you. That is the only thing that matters."

Buttercup's head fell back onto the sand and she turned away from him. "We felt good with other people, Butch."

"We were on ecstasy, on top of being drunk."

"That has nothing to do with this." Buttercup said glancing back at him. "If we love each other as much as we say we do—."

"What the fuck do you mean 'if'? We do love each other." Butch said, not liking where he could see her thoughts going. When Buttercup continued to look away from him, his worry grew. "Buttercup?"

"Get off me." She said before turning back to look at him. "Get off me now." Her struggles started up again and with Butch's heart falling to pieces in his chest, she was easily able to throw him off her. He landed with a thud in the sand and watched silently as Buttercup sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees.

Butch couldn't believe this. Here they were in one of the most beautiful places in the world, sitting on the beach with the sun glistening over the crystal waters, and he was fighting with the girl he thought loved him. It tore his heart to shreds to realize that she didn't love him nearly as much as he loved her. He could handle a monster three thousand times his size. He could handle a battle with H.I.M. He could handle Mojo freezing his account and making them slum it on the beaches of this paradise. What he couldn't handle was Buttercup not believing that they loved each other—that he is in love with her. As he sat across from her, his hurt quickly turned into rage and he couldn't help what he did next.

"Fuck you, Buttercup!" he yelled.

Buttercup looked up at Butch as he stood and made his way to his duffle bag still in the shade of the palm trees.

He was about to grab his bag when he ran his hands over his hair and then spun to face her. "Were you just forcing yourself these past couple of months?"

"Forcing?" she asked while turning to face him.

"You just implied that we don't love each other!" He screamed at her. "If we don't love each other, then why—why would I fight so hard against my parents for you? Go to hell and back for you? Take you to prom? Take you to Hawaii? Take you to see the fucking world, because I wanted to give you the world?!"

Buttercup stood up and charged at him. "You're saying all this, but you still haven't told me how."

"How what?"

"How could either of us could stand to fuck another person in front of each other and in that moment and not even think twice about it?" she screamed once she was within arms' reach of him. "Tell me how it felt just as good being with them as it was with each other."

"How many times do I have to say it? Damn it, we were on ecstasy! A crazy amount of ecstasy. The only way I'd have stopped in that moment is if you were hurt, which you weren't; If I was hurt, which I wasn't; or if it was Mitch Mitchelson who had his slimy hands all over you; which for damn sure wasn't. Also, in case you forgot, we fucked that night too. Right after we finished with them, we were all over each other. Those hickeys are mine."

Buttercup put her hand up over the almost faded kiss marks that Butch had left over her shoulders and neck.

"We also didn't stop until exhaustion took over. You fell asleep naked in my arms." Butch whispered lowly as he stepped closer to Buttercup. "I woke up with you in my arms."

Buttercup rightfully looked ashamed of herself for hurting Butch with her words. She didn't mean to say that she didn't love him. She did; she just couldn't believe that she'd still have sex with someone that wasn't Butch; under the influence of ecstasy or not. The words she needed to express how this was killing her were lost amongst the tempest of emotions. The tears that ran down her face were a minor release from the pain in her heart. Her arms found themselves wrapping around her as she turned away from Butch and stared at the mid afternoon bathed in cheery sunlight.

"Would you at least say something?" Butch demanded, hating that she was closing herself off from him.

Buttercup barely turned her head for face him, before refocusing on the sun and surf. "I—I need to be alone."

"No!"

"Butch." She pled closing her eyes and running and a hand over her face. "Please."

Butch glared at the side of her face, wet from tears and was torn between trying to comfort her and wanting to scream at her. She'd didn't look capable of screaming back at him, nor would she be welcome to his touch right now. He wasn't sure which scenario was more painful, so to spare him the chance of finding out, he grabbed his duffle bag and began walking to the more populated area of the island. Maybe getting lost in the crowd would ease his insignificance as strange or ironic as that sounded. As he lifted his duffle from the sand, he caught sight of his own wedding ring. A solid black gold ring with green accents that didn't feel nearly as odd being on his finger as he thought. Seeing as it was not nearly the time to mention how he almost liked the idea of being with her more permanently, he remained quiet and hefted his bag over his shoulder and started to make his way towards civilization.

"Give your sisters a call, would you? Brick and Boomer keep bugging me about how they haven't heard from you." He threw over his shoulder as a parting remark.

Buttercup waited until his steps were faint for even her super hearing before risking a glance in his direction. She sighed heavily and then sat on the sand as she turned to her discarded phone and did as Butch asked. One of the reasons she'd put it off her so long, was she didn't want to hear any judgement in her sisters' voices. From the pictures of her and Butch both sporting rings with eyes glazed over with whatever concoction of booze and drugs they were given, there would be plenty. That and she herself was too embarrassed and upset about how things happened. A heavily under the influence wedding ceremony by a man dressed as Elvis—one that wasn't part of the group Butch threatened earlier that night—and a swingers wedding night were not what she wanted. Hell, it wasn't until it happened in this horrendous way that she even thought about how she'd really want her wedding to be. Anything, anything, would've been better than this.

Taking a deep breath, Buttercup closed her eyes and pressed the call button for Blossom. Bringing the phone to her ear, she heard it rings once before the call was picked up. "Buttercup!"

"Hey." Her voice cracked and she forcibly cleared it before speaking again. "Hey."

"'Hey'? All I get is a 'hey' after not hearing from you for a week? We've all called you dozens of times left messages. The professor is worried sick. He's not about castrating him at this point. I hope you know that. Also are you even in Hawaii right now? Where are you?"

Buttercup tried and failed to swallow the remaining lump in her throat. "In Hawaii. I don't know which island. We landed as soon as we saw land and then walked around for a few days."

There was silence on the other side of phone for a beat. "Buttercup, is everything okay?"

"Why wouldn't they be?" she asked immediately going on the defensive. "I'm in Hawaii."

"You're married." Blossom stated plainly.

"Yeah, so? People get married all the time." She deflected.

"Buttercup this is serious." Blossom sighed, not liking how her sister was evading.

Buttercup sniffled and then cursed herself for not being quieter. "It's no big deal."

"This is a big deal, Buttercup. What happened?" her sister's tone demanded an answer. "Eloping is not something that you would do."

Anger surged through Buttercup and it took everything she had to not crush her phone. "And getting pregnant at seventeen and having a baby at eighteen is not something you would do, but we're all supporting you, aren't we?"

There was another silence, only this time this was met with the sharp exhale and the soft crackling that could only be ice covering the mouthpiece. There was a thudding sound and then Blossom's voice came through colder than the ice she just blew. "No, I didn't ask to be pregnant. However, my getting pregnant and you getting married in Vegas are two different things, Buttercup."

The laugh that broke through her lips was mirthless and cruel as more tears ran down her face. "Actually, they're not. The only different is that you don't remember the night your life changed. I do. I remember being giving beer. I remember getting hot all over my body. I remember witnessing the wedding of the two assholes that got Butch and me into this mess. I remember saying my vows with Butch. I remember the share we shared once we were declared man and wife. I remember spending my wedding night with the couple we witnessed for and having sex with them. The only thing I don't remember is whether of not we used protection. I haven't been able to stand the thought of having sex with Butch since that night."

"Then had both better take that shot up the ass of penicillin." Blossom told her. "Also, no matter how pissed the fuck off you are at your fucking self, are you ever to use my child as an example for your bullshit!"

Buttercup realized her mistake and wanted to kick herself. "Blossom, I—I didn't mean to say—."

"You did mean to say it." Blossom cut her off, now pissed off more than she ever thought she'd be. "I have my own problems to face Buttercup. Be the Power Puff Girl you are and face yours."

The call ended and Buttercup wasn't surprised to realize that she didn't feel any better. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she rested her chin on top and exhaled heavily through her nose. She knew what she said to Blossom was wrong. What she said to Butch was hurtful. Even when she wasn't meaning to make a hurtful blow, she dealt one and struck those who meant the most to her.

Blossom shoved her phone into her pocket and ran her hands over her face, before screaming into them. Beside her Brick rose a brow and waited for her to come down from her fit of anger to speak. He learned when it came to her sisters, she was better left alone. Add that to her pregnancy hormones and mood swings, and he knew well to steer clear.

"I can't believe her." Blossom started as she continued pushing the basket. They were shopping not only for groceries but things for the baby—diapers, baby wipes, powder, and a red cap. Brick said the cap was a must since none of Blossom's friends got one for the baby shower. A soft red cap that Brick couldn't wait to put on his son's head the minute he was born.

"What?" he asked, despite having heard the entire conversation with his super hearing.

"Buttercup. Comparing her Vegas marriage to what happened to us." She hissed. "I mean, okay we were both under the influence, but—."

"But?"

Blossom looked to Brick before turning her attention downward. "This blazing coal is not something to regret. Her marriage to your brother can be if she so chooses."

Brick and Blossom walked down the aisle for groceries in silence, their minds going to their similar yet different siblings. Butch and Buttercup were similar in that their emotions manifested in more physical ways. The difference was that Butch's manifestations pushed him closer to what he wanted or needed. Buttercup's held her at a distance as a way of protecting herself. "Butch has always known what he's wanted. He's simple like that."

Blossom glanced at him with confusion etched into her features. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Brick shrugged. "It has to do with the fact that he's married. If he actually married Buttercup, then it must've been because he wanted to. Under the influence or not."

Blossom considered this for a second, before pity started to settle in. Buttercup did not sound like she wanted to be married, or married in the way that she was. Blossom could understand that to an extent. However, she would not stand for Buttercup to take her anger out on her child. For all their nonsense, he was innocent. Still, Buttercup's doubt, much like before would only drive them apart. But also like before, it would also bring them closer together…just after a growing period. A painful, trying growing period.

"Don't think too hard about it. They'll figure it out." Brick said as he wrapped an arm around Blossom's waist.

"Yeah, I know. I just wonder if that'll happen before or after Mojo and the professor find out." She worried. "I think they'll both be in agreement that this was the craziest thing they've ever done."

"Mojo froze Butch's account." The young father to be informed his girlfriend, thinking that he was right to move his money when he decided to move out. "I don't know how much money he has in cash, but he sounded like he was fine. 'We're slumming it,' he said."

"What does that mean?" she said getting worried about the well being of her sister. Angry as she may be with her for her careless words, she'd never stop worrying about her.

Brick shrugged his shoulder as he reached up to pull a jar of baby food off the shelf. "We spent a few weeks in the bowels of hell with H.I.M without any earthly necessities. They'll be fine on a beach for a few days. Chicken and veggie dinner? This looks so gross. We can't feed our kid this."

"We won't. At least not for five or six months. He'll be breast fed until then." Blossom said, before growing pensive. "If I can lactate."

"I don't think you have to worry about that," Brick smirked as he gave an appreciative glance to Blossom's breasts. "Your tits are definitely filling up."

Blossom noticed Brick's eyeline and smacked his arm. "What is with your obsession with my breasts?"

"I'm a guy. Tits—especially yours—make me happy. I'm actually a bit jealous." Brick said before continuing. "He's going to get more boob action than me."

"He'll be eating, not performing foreplay, Peach fuzz."

"Okay Cherry Pie. Just letting you know that every time you breast feed, I'll be more than happy to watch." Brick said.

Blossom smiled, before she gasped and placed a hand on her belly. "Whoa, hot flash. Someone's awake."

"Is he kicking?"

"No." Blossom gasped again. "Yes. Hard and into…my…bladder. Bathroom!"

Blossom waddled with her super speed to the bathroom with Brick laughing behind her. "Don't wet yourself."

Boomer looked around Bubbles' room, glad that she had her own room with a door and a lock. She'd only been here a few days, but she'd already made it her own space. Baby blue, yellow and white desk accessories made for a cute workstation while her bed was a cloud of soft grey with purple and white pillows. The sink she claimed in the bathroom was already organized with her basic necessities in clear tubs and cups with ducklings on them.

"Ready for this to be home for the next year?" Boomer asked as Bubbles organized the small shelf with her rented books for class.

Looking over her should with a smile she nodded. "Yep, with almost all the comforts of home."

"Almost?"

"Well, I won't have the place shaking or rumbling from any failed experiments the professor has done." Bubbles chuckled, before the ceiling rumbled with the knocking around of the what could only be college boys. They were no doubt getting their last summer party in before classes started the following day. "I stand corrected."

"Hmmm." Boomer frowned. "There are only girls on this floor, right?"

"Jealous already?"

The scowl that marred Boomer's face was answer enough. "I don't see why you're making fun of me when you already promised to fight any girl that looks my way."

The bite in his tone drew Bubbles' attention from her bookshelf as turned to look at his tense frame as he leaned against the door frame. "Boomer, are you all right?"

Cobalt blue eyes turned to his girlfriend before flickering away. He wasn't sure how to bring up the weird oral sex thing between them. It had been well over a week, but the awkwardness was still there. The two hadn't done much aside from kiss and cuddle and that was before their fight. Aside from a couple of pecks and few light hugs, he hadn't touched her much—and that was something that bothered Boomer a lot. "Yeah, just wondering what I'm going to do all day while everyone's away."

"You could get a job." Bubbles suggested.

Boomer ran a hand through his hair as he shifted against the doorframe. "I guess. It's not like I need the money."

"It'll stave off your boredom, and hey, you might find your calling." Bubbles said with a smile.

Seeing Bubbles smile at him was a small comfort and eased some of his stress. He smiled wanly back and delighted when she smiled wider. "Yeah, maybe."

Bubbles wasn't sure what it was that told her, but she just knew that there was something weighing on Boomer's mind. He didn't want to talk about it, but he eventually he did. For now, she'd comfort him in the only way she knew how. With the only solution she could think of coming to mind, she stood from the bookcase and went over to him. She took his hand and rubbed her thumb over the back of it. The small gesture spoke volumes as Boomer looked between their joined hands and up into her clear open eyes. Bubbles watched as Boomer's own eyes darkened as he stepped forward, reaching behind him to close and lock the door behind him.

Together they walked towards her bed, Bubbles falling back first with Boomer quick to follow. Once he was on top of her, they shift to the middle of the narrower bed and just took a moment to touch each other. Boomer ran his hands through her hair with one hand as he caressed her face with the other. Bubbles' own hands were moving over the muscles in his arms that much like her own didn't show how truly strong her was. When her hands went over his back and latched onto his shoulders, she reached up with her lips for Boomer. The reach was short as Boomer came down to meet her, his slightly chapped lips taking her soft, lightly glossed ones into a slow burn kiss.

As always when she was with Boomer, Bubbles felt herself naturally finding the perfect way to receive Boomer's advances. Her legs that were exposed from the shorts were quick to wrap around his waist as he pushed himself between them. His growing erection drew a moaned giggle out of Bubbles before she reached up to kiss him. Lips easily parted as their tongues reached for each other and tangled together.

When her hands reached for his belt, he reached to help her when his phone started to ring. Boomer let it ring choosing to focus on Bubbles, much to her delight. When it rang immediately after, indicating another call, Boomer glanced over his shoulder to glance at the offending object before reaching for it. He glanced to see who it was and scowled viciously when he saw that it was Butch.

"Who is it?"

"The asshole." Boomer answered before he began to put his phone on silent. Just as he was about to do lay his phone down a message appeared.

Anherr the dumn phobv. I wooll sarisly blow up yo shell iv you domb.

"What the hell?" Boomer grumbled before five texts appeared.

Boveer!

Bummer!

BOOMER!

Ruby Tuff Ducky!

VANILLA BEAN!

Out of all the incoherent texting, that last one was the only one that made any real sense and it served its purpose of pissing Boomer off. A loud growl broke through Boomer's lips as he unlocked his phone and called his brother who immediately answered. "You are the biggest, most annoying cockblocking brother, you fucking asshole!" He then pulled away from Bubbles and turned away from her rubbing a hand over his face. "What the fuck is it that you have to ask me and not Brick?"

"Does Mojo know…that I'm married?"

"Are you fucking serious?" Boomer looked over to Bubbles and groaned as he stood up and left the room, barely having enough sense in his anger to unlock the door before he wrenched it open. The slam was still riddled with more anger than sense as the wall shook and caused sheetrock from the ceiling to rain down onto the floor.

Bubbles ran a hand through her own hair as she sat up. "So much for making him feel better."

Outside in the hallways of the dorms, Boomer was listening to his brother's explanation. "He must know."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because I've tried…" a loud belch was heard over the phone, making Boomer grimace in disgust. "Tried to call him a-and he's not…hic…answering." Butch exhaled through the phone. "N-no matter how angry he's been…he always answers the phone."

"Are you drunk?" Boomer asked him, finding what semblance of patience he might have had evaporating.

His three sheets to the wind brother completely ignored—or simply didn't hear—and kept pressing for information. "Nothing happened to him, did it?"

"We'd call you if something had happened to him. He's fine, just more than a little pissed that you spent ten thousand dollars at a jewelry store, on top of leaving to galivant around the world with Buttercup. Plus, he's also still steaming about Brick knocking and shacking up with Blossom. Maybe he's trying not to have a heart attack." Boomer snapped at him while clenching his fist and fighting the urge to slam it into the wall.

There was silence on the other end of the phone, aside from what could only be the clinking of glasses. "What…what are you p-pissed at me for?"

The question made Boomer's back ramrod straight as his eyes widened. "You must be kidding. Did you miss the part where I called you a cockblocker?!"

"If It was that easy for me to thwart whatever you and Angel Food were up to, then you really are vanilla." Butch chuckled without humor. How he managed to get that would without stuttering was mystery.

Boomer's teeth ground in frustration. "You're a fucking asshole!"

"And you're pissy…when you've got blue balls." He was quiet for a spell and then he started laughing. "Blue balls. You're…you're the blue Rowdy Ruff Boy with literal…literal blue balls."

The sudden thudding of his heart showed only heightened the rising of his blood as it boiled in his veins. "Go fuck yourself, Butch."

"I already did." Butch told him, suddenly sounding mournful. If his younger brother wasn't so pissed at him, he might've held a smidgen of sympathy for him. "Dude, can you tell me what t-the Mojonkey is planning or not?"

"You can go and ask him your fucking self!" Boomer snapped before ending the call and backing into the wall of the hall and sliding down. Once he was sitting down, he held his head in his hands. "Fucking asshole." He muttered under his breath.

"Boomer?"

When he turned his head, he saw Bubbles standing beside him with her arms held in front her. "It was just Butch."

"Is everything okay?" she asked as she sat beside him.

Boomer wasn't sure how to answer that question. He just leaned his head back against the wall and stared at her. "I just really hate my brother right now."

"What's he done now?"

"Other than just be an asshole?" Boomer said. "I mean, he stole the condom out of my wallet. This call right fucking now."

Bubbles couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. "You're sexually frustrated."

"That's part of it." Boomer sighed.

Shifting closer to Boomer, Bubbles placed a kiss on his cheek. "Hey, don't worry about the sex. I still love you."

A small smile crossed Boomer's face before he sighed. "Yeah, we both know we're not together just for the sex."

"The sex is nice."

"Just nice?" Boomer mused, sounding really unhappy.

"Yeah, what's wrong with nice?" Bubbles asked, sensing his mood shift, but not really knowing why. "I like that you're the sweet one."

Sweet? Nice? Those were just words for vanilla. It was one thing to hear his sex life be called vanilla by his brothers. It felt entirely different to hear Bubbles say them. His frown deepened as he got lost in his thoughts about the more physical side of his relationship with Bubbles.

"You know, we still have time before the RA has to kick you out." Bubbles told him with a soft smile. "Come back to my dorm and let's hang out. Whatever happens happens, okay?"

To be honest, Boomer didn't really feel up to anything at the moment. His frustration—sexual or otherwise—in that moment just left him exhausted. Lying down seemed like a good thing right now, especially if he was going to lie beside Bubbles. So when she stood and offered her hand to him, without hesitation he reached and entwined their fingers. He allowed her to pull him up and lead them back to her dorm room. Once inside, Boomer immediately sprawled in the bed before rolling over and opening his arms for Bubbles. She easily found the perfect spot to be cradled in his arms and sighed contentedly against his chest. Boomer's own face was pressed into her hair as he closed his eyes and breathed in her comforting scent of sugar and all things sweet. As he started to doze off, only one thought came to mind.

This is nice.

Butch stared through blurry eyes at the screen of his phone and sighed. So much for getting Mojo to unfreeze my account or getting Boomer to convince him, he thought. Beside him were three bottles of bourbon, two of which were empty. He was currently nursing the third. After he'd stormed off after finding out the Buttercup didn't love him—or believing she didn't—he'd found the closest liquor store and using his fake ID purchase the three bottles, using the last of his cash. His debit card was rendered useless until Mojo A normal human would only need the one bottle to get fully drunk. Barely into his third and he was just brushing the surface of intoxication. Sometime while paying for his liquor with cash, he thought of why he hadn't heard from his normally irate chimp father.

Found his place on the beach amongst the many other bums and tourists, he'd sat watching the other couples and families enjoy their time together. It was when his gaze lingered on the couples that he took deeper pulls from the bottle. The burn of the hard liquor down his throat and into his chest was a temporary fix to the pain his heart was undergoing. Even in his state of semi-numbness, he still felt betrayed by Buttercup. How could she think she didn't love him? How could she think he didn't love her?

He didn't pay much attention to the time, but he did notice the shifting of the shadows and the yellow shine of the sun turn orange. He'd been in the same spot well into the afternoon and in between glaring at the bottom of the bottle, he looked out enviously at those who were much happier around him. It was while he was glaring and finishing the last of the bottle that Buttercup found him. She was holding two white paper bags that smelled of spices and grease when she approached. Whatever she got smelled good, but Butch was still too heart hurt to even consider eating.

"Not hungry. Though I appreciate you pretending to care." He said without looking at her. From the side of his eye, he could see her pause and bristle at his words. "You make a perfect wife."

Hearing the malice and venom as well as the slight slurring of his tone told Buttercup that he wasn't in his right mind. Not that she could blame him, but it wouldn't help anything. "Don't be an ass." She muttered, before handing him the bag of pork pita wraps. "Here."

"I said I wasn't hungry." Butch snapped before taking another drink from the bottle.

Buttercup reached for the bottle, and managed to wrestle it from him, using her sober state to her advantage. "Don't you think you've done enough drinking? It's how we got here in the first place."

"Don't treat me like I'm an alcoholic." Butch snapped at her.

"I'm treating you like the stupid, drunk boyfriend that you are." Buttercup snapped back as she sat beside him.

"Husband. I'm your husband, remember?" he said while waving his left hand up at her showing the ring that adorned her finger.

"Don't remind me." Buttercup muttered as she looked forward. "You know, before we were in opposite places."

"What do you mean by that?" Butch asked.

Buttercup took a deep breath before she explained. "I really believed that I liked you and you just thought it was the tingles that were drawing us together. Now I think it was just the tingles and you believe that you really like me."

"I don't like you Buttercup. I love you. And I don't believe I love you, I know I love you." The conviction in which he spoke was strong enough to have Buttercup turning her head to look at him. He was staring at her with eyes glassy from the drinking. "I may have thought differently before, but I was just trying to not get myself attached in case it was true. What we have turned out to not be a byproduct of H.I.M's voodoo magic or whatever DNA bullshit. It was real."

"How do you know for a fact Butch?" Buttercup plead with him. "How are you so sure even after what we did in Vegas?"

Butch scoffed and brought a hand up to Buttercup's face. It was a bit gritty from the sand, but Buttercup was more concerned with the intense look in his eyes. He then pressed his forehead against hers and exhaled softly, but with the strong scent of liquor. "I'm sure because it wouldn't hurt this bad if I wasn't." He then roughly pushed her back and stood on slightly wobbly legs.

Buttercup turned her head away and dug her clenched her hands so tight, that her nails dug into her palms. The professor had said those very same words to her only months ago after the incident. It proved true then, and was slowly proving itself now. However, she couldn't get over the fact that she'd been with someone that wasn't Butch. It felt like the biggest betrayal. Earlier after Blossom had abruptly ended the call with her, she stared at her screen wondering if she should talk to her dad. He seemed to be the only one to really understand her when it came to her relationship with Butch. Unfortunately, she was more than a little ashamed to tell him about the debauchery she'd participated in. He'd have to know eventually, just she found that now was not a good time. Not until she came to out down from the tornado of emotions swirling in her.

A loud groan of misery from Butch drew Buttercup's attention. Her husband—it even made her cringe to think the word—was rubbing his hands over his face. "Holy fuck. My life seriously sucks right now." He then turned to Buttercup with shining eyes. "I've married to the girl I love, and she hates me. You hate me."

"I don't hate you Butch." Buttercup told him honestly.

"You don't love me," he said again. "Or at least you don't think you do because we fucked other people. It's a completely fucking bullshit reason to suddenly start thinking that."

"Is it?" she asked, in a challenging tone.

"Yeah, it is. We're not the first or the last people to say they loved each other and then go screw someone else. We're also not the first to get totally wasted and have that as a reason for fucking around, if you believe it or not." He grumbled. "Superhuman or not, we're still human and we fuck up sometimes."

"This is a major fuck up, Butch! We're married."

"Doesn't bother me."

"Apparently neither does fucking someone else!" she shouted at him.

Butch's eyes flashed in a way that reminded Buttercup of when they were little. It showed danger and promised pain. When he started charging toward her, she quickly stood up and raised her hands, ready to stop him at a moment's notice. When he reached her, he somehow drew her into his arms and roughly kissed her—a mess of tongue, lips, and teeth that Buttercup found most unwelcome with the tension. The sensation was worsened by the bitter taste of liquor that did nothing but remind her of that drug ridden, drunken night in Vegas.

As he pulled back from her, he held tight so that she wouldn't pull away from him. "Is that what you want Buttercup? For me to only fuck you? Because I will, for as long as we're together. I'll fuck you anyway you want, just tell me how you want it, when you want it."

Suddenly the world was spinning and there was the distinct crunch of glass with a flurry of sand. His breath left him and his stomach lurched from the sudden sloshing of bourbon in his system. He closed his eyes and waited for the spinning, both himself and the world, to stop. When the world righted itself, Butch looked up to see Buttercup's face framed by the fading light that reflected off the tears that were running down her face in streams. The sob that broke from her lips as she spun on her heels and took to the air sobered Butch.

"Buttercup, wait!"

Her green streak of light was swallowed by the sun as she disappeared. Butch stumbled to his feet and tried to take flight, before his stomach lurched again and he couldn't stop himself from vomiting. When the liquid contents of his stomach were all over the sand, he braced himself on his knees and breathed deeply. By the time he raised his head, there was no sign of where Buttercup could've gone.

"Damn it." He only hoped she didn't go far, while his account was frozen, hers wasn't but he knew she didn't have nearly enough to cover a hotel room—and if she did it'd probably be some seedy little place that he was not comfortable with her staying in. Deciding he needed to sober up, he trudged over to the ocean and proceeded to submerge himself the mild fogginess in his head was gone. Maybe then he could pull his head out of his ass and talk to Buttercup, his own feelings aside.

They needed to talk.

Hours—Buttercup wasn't sure how many—later, the green Power Puff girl found herself laying on her side in a small bed and breakfast watching cheesy, but much appreciated Hallmark romantic comedies. Her tears from the night before had left her eyes red and puffy, her nose an almost permanent shade of pink. In the back of her mind, she was a bit upset that Butch hadn't located her yet, but she had to remember he was as out of his fucking mind. She understood that he was hurt by what she'd said and done, but he didn't seem to fully understand how she was feeling. Add that to the crude and taunting words about fucking her, and she was in no mood to be in his company.

She must've fallen asleep, because one minute she was watching a couple stumble through their awkward meet cute moment, the next she was sitting up startled awake from the ringing of her phone that was one the stand beside the bed. Turning on the bed, she crawled her way over and answered without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?" She prayed it wasn't Butch. She really did not want to talk to him.

"Buttercup Utonium." The professor's hard tone woke Buttercup up completely and she straightened so she was sitting on her knees.

"Daddy." She said while wiping the remnants of tears from her face. "Hi, I was going to call soon, I—."

"It's been a little more than a week, since I last heard from you. What is going on?" he asked cutting straight the heart of the matter.

While it was easy to ask, it was more difficult to answer. Buttercup wasn't sure how to answer without revealing everything that had gone horribly wrong. "Butch and I had a fight."

"Was this before or after ten thousand dollars was spent in Vegas?" he cut to, barely containing his anger.

"How—?"

"Mojo called to inform that thanks to my daughter his son had spent or lost ten thousand dollars of his money. I thought you were going to Hawaii."

"We were—are—am. I am in Hawaii right now." She said, as the bottom of her stomach dropped out.

"Is that the truth?"

"Yes."

"Then what happened in Las Vegas, and don't tell me nothing." He demanded of her.

Buttercup's eyes watered and she couldn't stop them from spilling if she tried. "We…went to a party?"

"What kind of party?"

This is where the conversation became difficult. There was so much that she couldn't—wouldn't—tell him over the phone. "A wedding reception?" she hedged, hoping that didn't give too much away. "A couple needed Butch and I to witness, so we witnessed and got invited to the…reception." She then sniffed and ran and hand through her hair.

Rather than a question there was silence, and Buttercup worried about what he'd say after hearing more sniffles and tears in her voice. "Buttercup? Is that all that happened?"

"I had a fight with Butch." She answered. "It's nothing."

"It doesn't sound like nothing." He prodded in a concerned fatherly way, than the angry and needs answers way.

Buttercup blew out a breath, when she heard a knock on the door of her room. Rather than get up and alert whoever was at the door that she was there, she used her x-ray vision and grimaced when she saw that it was Butch. He looked exhausted, probably from hunting all over the Hawaiian Islands for her, but more importantly remorseful. It meant something to her, that he'd sobered and tried to find her. It also helped to ease some of her pained confusion.

"It was…the limits of our relationship are being tested is all." She supplied hoping that would suffice.

It didn't, as evident by the professor asking her what that could possibly mean. "Did he cheat on you?" There was a hardness to his voice and that threatened an ass kicking and Antidote X.

"Umm…" there was no right answer for that, because in a way they both had.

The knocking became more insistent on the door, drawing Buttercup's attention. "Buttercup, I can hear you under the sound of the TV. Please open the door, Cupcake."

Cupcake. The nickname that had at first irritated her, then she grew to love, and now felt nauseated by it. The creep in Vegas had called her Cupcake and it just made her skin crawl. She hated that something else was tainted by that night.

"…to kill him." She heard along with some shuffling and clicking of what could only be the chest he kept his power suit in.

"Professor! Dad, no! You don't have to kick his ass!" She sighed and rubbed at her eyes. "I already laid him out for being a dick."

The professor grumbled unintelligibly on the other end of the phone with a resounding slam of what could only be a door. "If you say so, but if I find out that he hurt you—."

"You have my permission." She let out a watery chuckle. She heard a thump and saw through the door that Butch had laid his forehead against the wooden door.

"Buttercup, please." He plead. "I don't want this to be the thing that breaks us."

"Umm, Butch is at the door and he doesn't have a key." She took a deep breath and wiped any lingering tears from her face. "I'll…I'll call you tomorrow."

"Wait, tell me where you're staying at least. I know Mojo froze Butch's account." He asked worried about the basic wellbeing of his daughter.

"I'm at a bed and breakfast called Ohana." She said while getting off the bed to go open the door for Butch. "I'm okay. We'll be okay." She said this as she opened the door and watched as Butch's frame relaxed with relief at the sight of her.

Hi my lovelies. I know last post more than a few of you feeling a little bit iffy. Hopefully this makes it better. As for the relationship with the greens, the two of them are made stronger through their struggles. If you think back to Coming of Age, they fought a lot about their feelings and what their relationship—physical though it only was—meant to them. It's the same here. This is just another part of them figuring out what their relationship means to them. Also, they're reckless teenagers with a newfound freedom in being quote unquote adults. They will make mistakes, and will choose either to learn from them or leave things as they are. It's what everyone does. Maybe not to their extreme, but a little bit of reckless abandon really realigns your priorities.

As far as guest reviews go, I do read them and usually I'll put them up as soon as I read them. Unless they're like a certain troll I know and strongly dislike, then I won't put them up. In the case of a few of the constructive criticism, I will admit to hesitating when putting them up. I like to reread them to get a better sense of what I need to improve on. It's of no insult to those who wrote them.