The story can get a little dry at parts and I think this kind of counts, but it is an important part that needs to be put in, so bear with me. We learn a bit more about Fabio, at least, so I guess that is kind of rewarding. I don't know. But it is necessary.
Buttercup was positively livid with resentment and anger as she hung up her phone. Her vision was reddening slightly, and she clenched her jaw as the intense desire to punch, kick, or bite someone burned in her knotted stomach. Stupid little goody-two-shoes Bubbles. God, why did she have to be no infuriating?
Buttercup knew, on some level, that Bubbles was right, and that she shouldn't have risen to Mitch's bait, but she was too stubborn and furious to even think of conceding to her sister.
"So?" Buttercup looked up angrily at the police chief. He was a portly, stout man with thick brown hair, a big forehead, and the biggest mustache in existence. He was staring at Buttercup with undisguised hatred. The two had had several run-ins in the past, none of them pleasant. "What did your father have to say?"
"He…" Buttercup knew she could lie, but she knew that Chief Bronson would easily see through that. The professor was too responsible to let his daughter's bad deed go unpunished. Buttercup glared at him defiantly—he didn't know she had actually called Bubbles, since she was too afraid to speak to her father and acknowledge his disappointment with her. He should've known better, though, than to leave rebellious Buttercup alone in that house for five days!
"He said I have to stay wherever you tell me to." Buttercup finished boldly.
"Is there a friend you could stay with?" Chief Bronson asked.
"No, not really." Buttercup replied truthfully, but also to be argumentative.
"Are you sure?" Chief Bronson glared at her doubtfully. Buttercup glared right back, refusing to back down, even to a police chief.
"Yes," Buttercup said curtly, grinding her teeth. But, at that moment, another, lesser police officer poked his head into the room—Chief Bronson's impeccable office—and gestured for the chief to join him in the hallway.
Buttercup moodily stared at the wall while they spoke in the corridor. She had been in this office several times before, and it hadn't changed much. There was his clean, organized desk in front of her, the walls bare but for a few awards and a single family picture of Chief Bronson, his wife, two daughters, and son from years and years ago before they'd graduated high school. It was a relatively neutral room that didn't give much personal information away. Anyone who searched this place would have trouble discovering much other than Chief Bronson's name and occupation. Anything containing papers that were remotely important were locked and the keys were always on the chief's belt or in his pocket.
After what seemed like a long time, but was really just five minutes, Chief Bronson returned, his face smoothed over into an unreadable mask. Buttercup looked up spitefully at him, wondering where exactly she was going to be staying for the next few days.
"A friend of yours has come to pick you up." Chief Bronson informed her stonily. Buttercup tried to conceal her shock, couldn't.
"Who?" She gasped, inwardly rebuking herself for giving away her surprise.
"Fabio Roman."
Buttercup frowned. She didn't know Fabio very well; all she knew was that he was Bubbles best friend and that he was nice, though his girlfriend was a royal pain in the ass. How had he learned about this, and why had he come to pick her up?
"He and his grandmother have offered to let you stay at their house until Professor Nygel returns." Chief Bronson explained coldly. He opened the door for Buttercup, and she got hesitantly to her feet. Her skin prickled as she went passed Chief Bronson into the hallway. Fabio was down the corridor, looking annoyed and angry. Buttercup had to admit, Fabio was rather gorgeous and damn hot, but he didn't do it for her. She didn't know how that ugly piece of shit Lila had gotten him in the first place when it was so obvious he had a thing for Bubbles, and vice versa.
"Look, Fabio, I'm sorry—" Buttercup began when she drew level with him, but the icy look her threw her way shut her up real fast. Chief Bronson came up behind her, still seeming quite suspicious, but he and Fabio spoke briefly in low voices before he allowed the pair to leave.
Buttercup was grateful that Fabio had decided to do this, but she refused to acknowledge the guilt that came with imposing on him and his grandmother.
Fabio had come to the states back when he was a little boy. His parents had been divorced, and his mother had died suspiciously in a car accident. His father had been found guilty of killing her, and Fabio had been shipped off to live with his grandmother in Wisconsin. He had only ever told that story to Bubbles, who had told Buttercup in the most private and confidential of circumstances.
Anyway, his grandmother was pretty old, and she couldn't work much anymore, though she was still getting a fair some for her retirement. Fabio, however, still had to work a few jobs to keep them in their house. And the professor and Bubbles were inclined to help him every now and then with finances. Fabio was proud, but not proud enough to get him and his grandmother kicked out of their house because they couldn't pay the bills.
They stopped to pick up a few things from Buttercup's house, and Fabio remained in the car, seething inwardly, as he waited for her to return with her bag. He wanted to confront her about her foolish actions, but he wasn't sure if it was truly his place.
As they pulled up to his small, one story house on McCracken Road, Buttercup turned to him and asked,
"Why are you helping me?"
"Bubbles called me and said you were in trouble." He ran his hand through his thick black hair. "I agreed to help you out until they got back from Chicago."
Buttercup wanted to apologize for the inconvenience, but her pride wouldn't let her. Her jaw remained wired shut as they went into the house.
The house entered into a short corridor, which had several closed doors along it, and at the very heart of the house was a kitchen. The house was warm and cozy, and smelled distinctly of fresh pasta, even though dinner time had long since passed, and night had descended upon Mariner.
Fabio was callous as he gave her a brief tour of the house. The bathroom was small and yellow, the living room blue with a small TV and comfortable couch, and the kitchen rather large and bright in spite of the darkness. It was very nice and warm, with silver appliances that didn't match the homey feeling. Fabio lastly showed her the guest room where she'd be staying, which was painted pale lavender with a white rose picture framed on the wall as the only frivolous decoration. The bed was a twin, with purple sheets and a tiny closet with a bedside table that held a porcelain white lamp and a digital alarm clock. Fabio turned to leave, but Buttercup hastily stopped him.
"Thanks," She murmured, forcing the word out of her leaden mouth. She felt guilt drop like a stone in her stomach, but she wouldn't admit to it or apologize. "I know Bubbles probably forced you to do this—"
"She was quite upset," Fabio interjected coolly. Buttercup felt even guiltier for blaming Bubbles for everything that had happened that night, but she obstinately clung to the idea that they had been idiots to simply leave her home alone like that. Her pride was, in spite of her tough girl appearance, rather delicate and easily bruised. She hated apologizing and thanking people, even those who had helped her greatly, and would never admit fault. And tonight, she was too tenacious, too riled up to so much as entertain the idea of thanking or apologizing to anyone, much less Bubbles, who seemed to be one of the sources of her anger.
"Whatever. She'll get over it." Buttercup sniffed proudly, throwing her bag on the bed. Her bad attitude nearly made Fabio slap her, but he relented and quickly left before he did something violent he would regret later.
It wasn't that Fabio disliked Buttercup, but he hated that she never thought of the repercussions her surly actions might have on her family. Bubbles had been crying on the phone, she was so frustrated. God knew how the professor would react when—if—he found out. Fabio sighed heavily as he pushed into his room. It was approaching eleven o'clock. Perhaps Bubbles would still be awake?
He pulled out his cell phone and texted her.
R u awake?
A few seconds later, she replied.
Yes. I dont think Ill get much sleep 2nite.
Fabio sprawled across his twin bed. He didn't think he'd get much sleep tonight either, but the fact that Bubbles grammar was lacking was certainly a sign she was sleepy, or at least too busy to care.
R u mad at Buttercup?
Yes, of course I am. But wat can i do this far away??? :( :(
Shes pretty guilty. Don't think she'll admit it, tho.
No, really?? Gawd, why did she have to do this NOW????
That's just how she is, i guess.
I'm srry you hav 2 watch her like this. Idk who else to call.
Its fine, BB. I dont mind much.
U don't mean that.
Fabio didn't know what to say to that, since it was true. Even via text, Bubbles always knew when he was lying. That just proved how much better she knew him than anyone else. He frowned at the thought, suddenly finding himself mentally comparing Lila and Bubbles. Bubbles was certainly prettier, and nicer, and understood him better than Lila ever would. Fabio didn't know why he'd started to date Lila in February, but he was sick of her and was gaining the courage to dump her once and for all. He knew that, once he found the strength to dump her, he could ask out…
I'm srry. Did i offend u?
Fabio sighed heavily.
No, just thinking.
'Bout wat?
He didn't know how to tell Bubbles he was thinking about how much better a girlfriend she would be than Lila.
Nothing important.
Oh, really? Well, i was reading before you interrupted.
Srry.
Nah, its kewl. I couldn't really concentrate anyway.
Is Buttercup annoying u that much?
Kinda, yea. She and Blossom are so…
Self-absorbed?
That's a bit harsh, but, yea, kinda. But, I guess we're all self-absorbed in some way, so I can't really blame them.
How insightful, Confucius.
:) :) I'm tired. Nite.
Nite.
Fabio flipped his phone shut, feeling a strange sense of concern and a peculiar sense that he'd left something out.
As he predicted, Fabio got little sleep that night. He fell asleep once, only to wake from a terrible nightmare in which Bubbles had been murdered bloodily in front of him by a strange man in a scarlet suit. Fabio got no more sleep after that, instead staring, worried, at the ceiling, where a lattice work of shadows danced in a private show.
