Public Isolation

At this point school was a breeze. Some members of the press were gathered near the school, but the principal had made it clear from the first year the girls attended that he would not stand for the disruption brought on by a crowd of reporters right outside the windows. Of course, after ten years of saving the world in general and the city in particular, such efforts were rare, but the principal had felt it necessary to express his position all the same.

Buttercup in particular found her course easiest, much to her surprise. Short of Mike, she didn't really have any friends at this place. No one worked up the nerve to approach her directly, and so long as she didn't use her super-hearing to pick up the whispered conversations that flanked her, she found it easy to concentrate on class for a change. Even Mitch hadn't dared make any cutting remarks. Even his face had been impassive when he'd entered the room just before class started. Buttercup had actually caught herself smiling at him for some reason she would never understand.

Blossom wasn't much worse off. Some scattered acquaintances had questioned her tentatively, but seeing her worn-down appearance they were quick to drop the subject when she dismissed it. To everyone, at least for now, she was just a bystander anyway. Best of all, Princess, who had bought her way into every honors class Blossom rightly earned a place in, was nowhere in sight.

Bubbles, on the other hand, while she had few she would call friends, was cursed with multitudes of people who counted her as a friend. Being as close to ground zero as anyone, it was unsurprising that a wide variety and seemingly endless quantity of questions had flown her way. She gave each no more than it deserved. Sometimes this was ignoring it, other times shaking her head and smiling at its ludicrousity, and a few rare gems were usually met with variations of "don't worry about it."

She was very happy that Mike had not asked her any questions that day.

The girls lunched together on the roof in paranoid silence. Whatever happened at home, out in the open they knew the reporters wouldn't hesitate to turn up the zoom on their cameras.

In the bustle after their only class together, Bubbles had informed Mike that she'd be leaving him out of lunch today and said he shouldn't wait up for her or Buttercup after school. Though she could fly much faster, Bubbles usually rode with Mike in his convertible when they decided to head to his house after school. Buttercup had also taken to the habit, accompanying her sister in the weeks between the start of school and the start of the fiasco Bubbles wanted to distance Mike from. She might still pay Mike a visit, she'd said, but, she'd told herself, only without risking the equivalent of a holiday parade, or drawing attention Mike's way at all.

Then lunch was over and after another run of classes the girls met on the roof again, part of some unspoken agreement they nevertheless understood.

"I'm thinking of getting out of the house today," Bubbles said, leaving out specifics and turning the conversation away from the loaded question of "how was your day" she feared would come if someone didn't stop it.

"I wouldn't mind that, either," Buttercup agreed.

Blossom drew breath and held it, choosing her words with care. "All right. We should probably head home first, though. Bubbles," she continued, giving her sister a significant look, "why don't you lead the way today."

One of the benefits of being a coherent team for the entirety of their lives, even when the heat of battle hindered use of the spoken word, was that some things were understood without saying anything.

Bubbles nodded, smiling with that understanding. The three took off as streaks of light towards their suburban home, but when they drew near Bubbles swerved away, flying low back to and through the city, slower and without the light trail.

Maybe for some, coming so close to home would be reason enough to at least tip off their father while they were in the area, but not when going anywhere in this city was no more difficult than walking between adjacent rooms of a house.

But when Bubbles touched down on the Believe house porch it finally dawned on her.

She bit her lip, wondering if Blossom had thought something else was in mind. Maybe another strategy meeting in some distant corner of the world. "Sorry, Blossom, but we were just thinking of visiting Mike."

Blossom shrugged, uncaring. "That's all right. You don't mind if I tag along, do you?"

Buttercup smiled. Bubbles did, too, and stepped forward to embrace her sister in a cautious hug. Maybe it seemed a small thing, but they knew Blossom requesting to spend time at Mike's was a sure sign she needed her sisters close. "Never," Bubbles stated. "We'd never want to leave you out."

Blossom didn't seem to respond to the embrace at all. Even after it had ended she seemed like it hadn't happened. "You don't really have a choice but to leave me out. Of some things, anyway." A hint of a smile finally crept through her stony expression, its power too great to be restrained. "Two's company, three's a porno?"

It took her sisters a moment to respond to the inappropriate attempt at humor, in part to recognize it and in part to force out nervous laughter to avoid making things harder.

"Maybe we should head in and wait for Mike?" Bubbles suggested.

"Can we get in?" Blossom asked.

"'Course. I've got a key."

Bubbles did indeed have a key. It shouldn't have surprised Blossom in the least. In some not-so-distant past, her less preoccupied might might have recalled the fact before asking.

Inside, they sat on the living room couch, Bubbles, Blossom, then Buttercup.

Blossom didn't take long to continue speaking, staring into the empty television screen. "About last night... Maybe it was you. Maybe it wasn't. I know it wasn't, now, but in my mind there wasn't any difference at the time. Maybe I do understand a little better, even if I don't agree. I don't know if it could have gone farther than a kiss, but...I don't want to know." But Blossom knew. Was fairly sure of it. But she would never bring herself to say it to her sisters. Her father, certainly, next time she had a moment alone with him, but not here and now.

"But I do know this is one thing I don't want to be a part of. I'm sure of it. We're not identical, we're not the same, and it's fine by me if you two have something together I'm not a part of. In fact, I don't think it bothers me at all anymore. I still have a nagging suspicion it'll only end in tears for both of you, but what do I know, right?"

A pregnant silence entered the room then. Finally, Buttercup chirped, "Blossom, when have you ever had a suspicion without nagging?"

After a few strained moments spent suppressing it, they all laughed this time, and with relief rather than nervousness. After several minutes this welcome visitor eventually faded off, leaving them in a decidedly more pleasant silence.

In the lighthearted atmosphere, Bubbles dared to ask, "So, uh... Did you still like it?"

Blossom smiled, knowing what her sister meant. She leaned her head against Bubbles's shoulder, against her neck. "It's not worth the complications. Ordinary, everyday sister works just fine for me, thanks."

Suppressed laughter was clearly heard lurking again behind Buttercup's voice. "So I take it that's a 'yes?'"

Blossom smiled at the T.V. It was her little smile, shown to villains and her siblings alike. It was a smile that made it perfectly clear that Blossom felt their dues were coming, and that she knew just how to deliver them.

Blossom leaned further into Bubbles and brought one leg up in a playful backwards kick at Buttercup. Her sister reacted to the intentionally slow, clumsy attack by grabbing Blossom's leg. She then reached out and grabbed Blossom's other leg. Blossom issued a playful faux scream when Bubbles slid her arms underneath hers. Bubbles then clasped her hands behind Blossom's head, holding her sister's arms uselessly out.

Blossom kicked one of her legs free and continued struggling, laughing. Their little wrestling match continued thusly for a brief while until the couch suffered for it. One armrest was blown nearly off by Blossom's kick, hanging limply near the floor by a mere thread of shredded wood. The center bowed inward, and the backing on the side opposite the fallen armrest was slightly separated from the cushions. They heard a cracking sound that made them fear they'd dug the couch legs into the floor, damaging it as well.

They froze where they were, looking at each other with guilt in their faces. They found none of them could restrain their laughter for long, though, and it was the sound of this laughter that greeted Mike when he walked through the door.