Chapter 12

Good Girls

Nighttime turned the hustle and bustle of Townsville into little more than a slight hum. Most of the residents of this happy metropolis were asleep, but one person was awake and ready to begin their illicit actions.

From a rooftop, the ominous shadow stood and looked down at the city. The breathing of this figure aligned with the whistle of the wind, and long hair flowed freely like a cape of thin tendrils. This was the moment of truth. Now or never, for the good of the mission.

Running along the rooftop, checking every angle of the target for the perfect point of entry, the shadow jumped and flew toward the jail in a show of neon blue light. Yes, this ninja of the night was Bubbles, and for the first time in her adult life she was purposefully committing a crime.

She crashed into the wall where Mojo Jojo's cell was, and the old ape was fast asleep in his cot. Figures. This was his idea and he still wasn't prepared.

Not even Mojo's snoring could counter the sound of shattering cinder blocks however, and a guard immediately started running to check on the area.

When the guard arrived he saw nothing but a hole where the wall had once been. Mojo Jojo was gone, as was whoever set him free. Wasting no time, the cop grabbed his walkie-talkie.

"This is Officer Jankins in cell block D. We have a high-risk escape! Repeat, we have a high-risk escape! Mojo Jojo is on the loose. Alert Townsville PD at once!"

"Be sure to call Townsville PD when you got the money. … Yeah, that sounds good. Goodbye."

Mr. Big hung up the landline and went back to his meal with Femme Fatale. She didn't know why she accepted his invitation to dinner at his house, but she was starting to regret it. While she drank fine red wine and had the personal chef make her a nice chicken almondine, Mr. Big ate a meat lover's pizza he ordered from some chain restaurant and drank down a gallon of chocolate milk straight from the jug. She cringed every time he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his Armani suit.

"Sorry to talk on the phone so much," Mr. Big said sheepishly, "I forgot to send the last set of bribes to Townsville PD. Not to mention making sure that a new order of cocaine is gonna get here from Columbia on time. Mr. Big needs to hire a new right hand, before all this paperwork makes my head explode."

"Uh huh," Femme Fatale grunted disinterestedly, but then… "I can't believe you bought such a cheap mecha suit. That thing didn't last a minute! Why not just put whatever that chemical stuff was into the guns of the robot and let me fire it? That would've been safer and easier than using myself as bait."

"Mr. Big only had the one bottle," Mr. Big explained, "Bought it three years ago for the revenge plan."

"Why not just buy more then?" Femme Fatale asked, "We only managed to kill one Powerpuff Girl and one…whatever that guy was."

"Can't," Mr. Big said before taking another bite of pizza, "Y'see…muh suppliuh…he's nah…*gulp*…Mr. Big's supplier is dead. Antidote X is hard to get because it's only legal for researchers. Mr. Big used to buy from a guy named Warner Hardly, but he OD'ed on Chemical X last year. I think that's how his brother died too. Mr. Big can't find another science guy that has a steady supply of the stuff."

"Seriously?" Femme Fatale snarled, throwing her fork onto her plate with a clang, "You mean you only had enough to use it once, and you didn't tell me!? If I try to fight them fairly I'm going to lose! How are we supposed to get the other two Powerpuff Girls now!?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Big didn't use it all," He assured her, "The rest just ain't in a bottle. We gotta get creative to make the rest of it work."

"What are you talking about?" Femme Fatale asked irritably, "If you have Antidote X, then why can't we just use it like before?"

"Uh, it's kinda hard to explain," Mr. Big said apologetically, "Don't worry though. You don't gotta be bait this time."

"Fine. Whatever," Femme Fatale sighed before returning to her chicken.

For a moment the only sound at the table was the clanking of Femme Fatale's silverware on her fine china plate. Mr. Big seemed to sense the tension in the air, but what he said next did nothing to smooth things over.

"So…did you consider Mr. Big's offer?"

"I did," Femme Fatale replied coolly, "And the answer is no. I won't marry you."

"Why not?"

"I think the better question is why would I?" Femme Fatale retorted, "Look, you might think you're fooling me about who you really are, but you're not. I know you lied to me about the grave marker, and I know you've been trying to play on my sympathies to make me like you. I almost considered your proposal just for the sake of power, but saying yes to you would actually be taking my own agency away. My dad did the same thing to my mom. He promised her everything she could ever want, and then when she stopped being pretty and submissive he dumped her out into the cold. Well, I won't go down that way. You can find a new toy to play with, because I am not for sale!"

Mr. Big didn't speak for a pregnant pause. He just regarded her for a moment, holding a limp slice of pizza in his hand. Femme Fatale knew he would probably retaliate, but she still felt justified in everything she said. She wasn't going to let him see her back down. No man was going to get the better of the best female criminal in Townsville.

"Um…what?" Mr. Big asked obliviously.

"What?" Femme Fatale repeated.

"Mr. Big didn't understand what you just said," Mr. Big admitted, "Was that a no?"

Femme Fatale groaned longsufferingly and said "Yes, Big. That was a no. I don't date liars, and I certainly don't marry them."

"When did Mr. Big lie?"

"When you said you were visiting your brothers' grave," Femme Fatale reminded him, "I read the grave marker. It was for a woman, not your brothers."

"Yeah," Mr. Big nodded, not even denying it.

"Then why did you say your brothers were buried there?"

"Uh…" Mr. Big rubbed his arm awkwardly, "Mr. Big don't know where they really are. The cops took their bodies, and Mr. Big was a criminal and couldn't go ask them about it without going to jail. If Mr. Big could have buried them though, then they would get a cool angel statue like that one."

"Wow. So you've always been a lowlife scumbag," Femme Fatale remarked, "Got to say, this story isn't helping your case."

"Mr. Big wishes you could love me," Mr. Big lamented softly, "But it's okay. Mr. Big still loves you though. Hope that ain't a problem."

"You can't love someone you don't even know," Femme Fatale argued, "The only thing we talk about is work. You don't love me, you just think I'm pretty. Lust is not love."

"Are you pretty?" Mr. Big asked curiously.

"You…you don't find me attractive?" Femme Fatale asked, confused and a little insulted.

"Mr. Big can never tell," Mr. Big shrugged before grabbing more pizza, "Eyesight ain't what it used to be. Mr. Big knows what you look like, kinda, but it's a little fuzzy."

"But…if you can barely see me, then why do you want me so badly?" Femme Fatale couldn't help but ask.

"Because you're good," Mr. Big smiled, "You're a crook just like me, but you got a good heart. You care about things, and you look after me. Mr. Big could learn a lot from you. Besides, Mr. Big is looking for an older woman. Young chicks don't know nothing."

Femme Fatale didn't know how to respond to that, so she took a sip of wine to buy some time. Was this guy delusional or just trying to flirt? Femme Fatale wasn't a good person. She was a villain, a soldier of femininity building her fortune to topple the patriarchy. She would maim, kill, and steal from whoever it took to achieve her goal. Why would Mr. Big think she was anything other than competition for his own empire?

"You're insane," Femme Fatale finally said, "I'm not a good person. Good people don't become hired guns for mob bosses."

"You're good to me," Mr. Big insisted, "You saved Mr. Big's life, even though it was hard for you. It's clear that Moose offered you a lot of money to betray me. You didn't do that though. That tells me you're a better person than you let on."

Femme Fatale just shrugged and avoided looking at him. She didn't know what to say, and still wasn't sure if she did the best thing for her career or not. To be fair, working for Moose definitely would have been more annoying than working for Mr. Big, but at least Moose probably wouldn't fall in love with her.

"Do you know how many times Mr. Big has almost been killed by other members of the cartel?" Mr. Big asked soberly, "Too many to keep count. Most people go for the money and power. Most people don't care about me, even when I give them everything I can. Mr. Big offered you a fortune and my own dead body just for a few nights of pretend. You could've said yes, you could've killed Mr. Big easily, but you didn't. You didn't, because you're good."

"…The answer is still no," Femme Fatale said quietly.

"I know," Mr. Big smiled wanly, "It's okay."

They went back to eating for a few minutes before Mr. Big had to get up and answer his landline phone again. Femme Fatale let out a relieved breath when he wasn't looking at her. Mr. Big still made her uncomfortable, but now it was for a different reason than before. Before she was afraid he would try to hurt or kill her. Before she worried he would assault her if she said no to him.

Now though…he made her uncomfortable because when he looked at her he saw something she didn't see. Femme Fatale knew who she was. She was bad, she was loud, and she took whatever she wanted with no regard for anyone else. She was everything her family thought she could never be. They thought she was weak when she cried at movies. They thought she was a loser when she was humiliated in school. They thought her only purpose in life was to make babies and take care of a husband.

Femme Fatale worked her entire adult life to prove she wasn't what they thought she was. If men could rule the world by being abrasive, aggressive, and condescending, then she would become their undoing by exploiting their tactics. She worked hard to be strong, to be cruel, and to be rich. She was not weak, she was not soft, and she was not good.

So why did Mr. Big see these things in her? Was her perceived kindness just relative to his own cutthroat existence, or was he really seeing a remnant of the cowed scared child she used to be? She didn't save him because she was good! She wasn't good! Just because she felt sorry for a broken man mourning the loss of his family didn't mean…

She sighed and looked down at her empty plate without really seeing it. That day she thought she saw something of herself in him. Someone trying to hold onto power because they felt helpless their entire life. He was probably lying, but Femme Fatale realized that might not even matter. The point was she felt that way long enough to keep him alive. He found her softer side and exploited it.

Her anger simmered within her even more as she thought about the position she found herself in. Mr. Big made her answer to his proposal irrelevant the moment he called her good. If she accepted his proposal and killed him, then she would just be doing what he wanted by marrying him. By refusing, she kept herself out of Big's bed but gave him a win by admitting she couldn't kill him. If she said yes and just…surrendered to the situation…then he really would get exactly what he wanted, at her expense.

There was no answer where Mr. Big didn't come out the winner, and Femme Fatale hated him for that. She knew men saw everything as either a conquest or a competition. If that was the case, then Mr. Big rigged the game in his favor.

Mojo Jojo was still groggy from his impromptu rescue, so he sat on his couch while Bubbles flew around the observatory in slow yet nervous circles. He said he had information that could help her, but so far the only thing he was willing to do was yawn and scratch his butt while waiting for his tea to boil.

Bubbles wanted to hurry up and ask Mojo for the information, and yet she didn't feel ready to speak to him. Her heart was racing from what she just did, and she worried this was going to be another panic attack. This shouldn't have been such a big deal. It was just Mojo Jojo. He broke out of prison all the time. Who cared if she did it or if it was the tooth fairy?

It was her though, and that was the problem. She could go to prison for this, and she wouldn't try to fight it. She knew the law, and this metaphorical stain on her clean reputation would be yet another weight on her already fragile heart.

She took a deep breath as she continued her mid-air pacing. She could do this. The hard part was over, and if this act of rebellion saved the lives of her loved ones then she could live with the consequences.

"Must you fly over my head like that?" Mojo groused, "It is most irritating, and furthermore unpleasant. It feels as if any second now you are going to drop something upon me like a pigeon at the park."

"Eww, pigeons poop on you?" Bubbles joked.

"Very mature, Bubbles," Mojo said sarcastically, "Just sit down on the couch next to me. I will assist you in locating the as of yet unlocated criminals."

Bubbles did as instructed, and watched as Mojo grabbed a laptop from the coffee table. She had the urge to ask him what he was doing, but managed to hold her tongue. She didn't want to annoy Mojo before he gave her the info she needed, and he could be somewhat unpredictable when agitated.

"Now Bubbles, what I am about to show you was never meant for the eyes of the law abiding citizen," Mojo said conspiratorially, "You cannot tell anyone I told you about this. Not Blossom, not Buttercup, and most certainly not the police. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Mojo," Bubbles replied unenthusiastically.

"I mean it now, you do not tell a soul about this," Mojo repeated sternly, "Is that clear?"

"Mojo, I- Fine, it's clear," Bubbles replied in exasperation.

"Good," Mojo nodded, satisfied for the moment.

The old monkey then typed the URL townsvillains,edu at the top of his screen, and Bubbles was surprised to see a website seemingly dedicated to Townsville's underground. There was everything from stolen goods to want ads for henchmen to chat rooms, all with a site page that looked barely more professional than a blog. That likely explained why there were so many hired goons in Townsville, though Bubbles realized that could be a whole chicken and egg discussion.

"Now, what did you say the name of the drug ring was?" Mojo inquired.

"The Saga Cartel," Bubbles informed him, "Do you really think they'll be here with the super villains?"

"Crime is crime, Bubbles," Mojo replied in a sage tone of voice, "I'll start by searching in organized crime. … Hm, it seems there are multiple results for them. The Smith Family is searching for someone to sabotage the Saga's cocaine shipments. There also seems to be a large bounty for several members of the cartel. Should I be looking for someone specific?"

"Yes. Mr. Big is the name of their leader."

"Such a lack of creativity," Mojo shook his head, "In my day villains took pride in their work. Now just slap a moniker on some random nobody and call it a day. Pah!"

"Mojo? The search?" Bubbles urged him.

"Ah, yes. Mr. Big's profile will likely be under the subcategory drug running. Now I warn you, it is possible that he is not even here. Is there a second name just in case?"

"No," Bubbles replied sadly, "I was supposed to follow a guy named Moose McGregor, but I couldn't find him before he got killed."

"Hm…there is a result for the name Mr. Big," Mojo observed, "The avatar is a picture of a pink rabbit plush toy, and there seem to be many personal posts as well as advertisements for seeking new talent."

"Is that the right one?" Bubbles asked.

"You tell me. I do not know what I am looking for," Mojo snorted as he shoved the laptop over to Bubbles.

Bubbles looked over the posts, and it seemed like this was definitely the right guy. Mojo's phone rang, and he got up to answer it while she searched. At the same time the tea kettle whistled, so there was a lot of distracting noise. Bubbles had trouble focusing on her task with so many things happening at once, but she somehow forced herself to ignore the world around her.

Mr. Big hired several new gangsters and hit men over the past few months. One of his ads even asked for someone to kill The Powerpuff Girls. There were orders for Antidote X, requests for high tech weapons, and mass-scale secret construction projects. Bubbles felt cold sweat beading on her as she continued reading.

His personal posts were just as chilling, talking about things such as how big is too big for a person to be fed to a snake. Mr. Big was apparently quite popular on the site, with many people asking for loans, giving him advice, and attending lavish parties he threw at locations that were blurred out for non-members. Bubbles frowned. Apparently Mojo forgot to log in.

Mr. Big's newest post was from that very day. It was a want ad, asking for someone with skills in both mob enforcement and record keeping. Given that Moose was recently killed, Bubbles had a sickening feeling she knew why this was posted now. Before she could inquire further however, there was yet another distraction.

"Bubbles!" Mojo called as he practically ran to her, "Get off the computer! I have something of great importance to tell you."

"But I'm onto something," Bubbles protested, "I think I can find-"

"Bubbles!" Mojo shouted more forcefully, "This is important."

Bubbles heard the agitation in his tone, and saw his fists clenched in restrained anger. Was he angry at her? What happened? Bubbles couldn't speak as she got that gut feeling from years of superhero work that something was very wrong.

"Bubbles…I just received a phone call from Boomer," Mojo breathed, his primal anger fighting with his pain, "Butch is in the hospital. He and Buttercup were attacked with Antidote X. He would not tell me more."

Bubbles gasped as she fought back tears. Antidote X…the substance Mr. Big ordered. If they were in the hospital then whatever happened was more than just a minor scrape. Without their Chemical X, they would be even more helpless than an average citizen. Bubbles wasn't sure she wanted to know what she would find when she saw Buttercup, but she knew she had to be there.

"I'll call Blossom, and then we can fly to the hospital together," Bubbles said, barely holding herself together.

"No," Mojo said firmly, "I cannot go. I will be arrested if I am caught visiting Butch."

"I know, but…but at least you'll get to see him before you are," Bubbles reasoned, "Please, Mojo. He's your son. He's probably never needed anyone more than right now. You should be there for him."

"I do not see the point," Mojo argued, "He will likely not be conscious."

Bubbles didn't have to say anything more. She just looked at him with her large sad blue eyes. Mojo harrumphed, crossed his arms, and turned away from Bubbles. He knew she was still looking at him however, and knew that his battle of willpower with the girl was basically already lost.

"Argh…fine," Mojo seethed, "I know I'm going to regret this…"

Despite the tense situation, Bubbles managed to smile at Mojo's bratty attitude. Some things never changed.

She picked him up and flew with him in her arms, knowing that his death grip would probably hurt a normal person. For whatever reason Mojo Jojo could always cheer Bubbles up, even though he never meant to.