Disclaimer: I do not own any content form the Powerpuff Girls. Original characters, however, are mine and I recommend not using them against my permission. All rights to Craig McCracken and whoever he wants to credit specifically.

Author's Note: HEY READERS! The semester is over and I've never felt more alive… and lazy! I survived finals week, got my grades (which I'm pretty proud of), and now I'm back with a new chapter! But enough about me, let's talk fic.

First and foremost, this entire fic so far has be un-beta-ed. So whatever typos or inconsistencies that may occur are all my own fault and take note that I meticulously revise, alter, and repost chapters at random (but not so much that new and old readers aren't all on the same page).

Second, this chapter was originally going to be crazy long… but I really didn't want to overwhelm you guys with too much at once. But the good news is that I've already mapped out the next chapter and you guys can expect it sooner than later. But let me stop holding you up and let you get to reading.

One last thing though, as always thank you for the reviews! They are extremely motivating for such a procrastinator like me! I'm glad you guys are enjoying and I hope you enjoy and review this next chapter just as much, if not more!

Authors need feedback to keep giving you guys the good stuff.

Enjoy your read!

After more debriefing of what my future assignments might entail and a quick but effective glaring match with Butch and Boomer, I'd been given the 'okay' to fly home. Thank god for that because I damn sure wasn't going to take that god awful city bus again without being arrested for murder.

One might think that after successfully landing a job (in neon green sneakers at that!), I'd go out to celebrate with drinks and partying. Had this been an ordinary job with an ordinary payroll, one might be right. This time was different though.

Sure, I got the job, but not without compromising my morality first.

And it's not even that I knew where I stood morally, because I'd always been considered a borderline vigilante. But teaming up with the enemy? I had to have reached a new all-time low when I agreed to take the job.

Still, I tried my best not to think about what I'd just done on my flight home.

I chalked the guilt that churned in the pit of my stomach up to being hungry; I hadn't even had breakfast yet. I suppressed the nagging voice with thoughts about the needed money I would earn, the information I would learn, and the enjoyment I would get by hitting Butch as hard as I possibly could – THREE TIMES!

But still the voice's whispers swirled like an omnipresent tornado in the center of my mind. Hilariously, at some points the nagging voice sounded a lot like Blossom. That made me fight even harder to push it away.

If I was going to prove how much of a 'buttercup' I wasn't, I had to do it on my own terms. No more almost crying, no more holding back, no more caring. When had the crying shit even started though? Since when does the girl accurately dubbed "The toughest fighter" almost cry? With this opportunity, all of that would come to an end. I just had to keep thinking positively and keep this whole situation on the down low.

I smiled as I reached my apartment door, taking the time to unlock each lock. 'I might as well be a real spy now,' I thought as I opened the door.

I didn't have much time to muse about this to myself though, because it only took a shift in the air pressure for me to realize I was not alone. My eyes darted around and I initiated my defensive mode for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

'I screwed up,' I thought to myself again. 'I told them that I was on their side for the job and that's all they needed to infiltrate my apartment and ambush me. Goddammit Buttercup, all these years and you still can't make the right decisions for yourself?'

I peered around, taking tentative and silent steps in the direction of my small bedroom. I could hear the slightest puffs of breath that would've gone undetected if not for my super hearing and alertness. Luckily, it only sounded like one person breathing, but I still approached cautiously, prepared for an ambush. When I was right outside the door I tensed and gave myself a second more to berate my own stupidity.

'This is why you don't EVER trust the enemy, Buttercup. The minute you do, you'll start having to sneak around your own damn house, hoping – praying – that you have the upper hand in case of an attack. How's that for comfortable living?'

I held my breath and pushed open my bedroom door with as much force as it took to push that nagging voice in my head away.

"B-," I started, seeing a form sitting on my bed. Once the initial shock settled, the gears in my brain started functioning again. Fortunately it wasn't who I was expecting, but still it wasn't someone particularly welcomed. "Blossom?"

Blossom smiled languidly at me, recognizing and trying to counteract my shock with her familiarity. The smile didn't last long though, as it was quickly replaced by furrowed eyebrows and thinly pressed lips.

"How have you been, Buttercup?" she asked. There it was; that annoying motherly concerned tone.

"Fine," I said, shrugging. I wasn't trying to sound as flippant as I did, but I could think of nothing more than 'fine' to say. I hadn't spoken to her in a couple of months and things had definitely changed for me since last time, especially within the last couple of hours. Still, she frowned at my response. I could see the skepticism behind her bright pink eyes. But whatever questions she might've had that were racing around in that big brain of hers went unspoken.

She stood up and walked over to me, embracing me in a hug. I hugged her back stiffly, dutifully, and let go just as quickly. The tension was thick and the air suffocating. I wondered if things would ever loosen up between us.

"You're living well, I hope? Are you eating right? Staying in shape? Keeping up with your work?"

"Yeah…" She didn't have to know about me getting fired and deciding, against her moral standards, that it was a good idea to strike an employment deal with the Rowdyruff Boys right now, did she? "Listen, Bloss, I don't mean to sound rude or whatever… but just how the hell did you get in here?" 'And why?'

She grimaced; she never did like when people used even the lightest form of profanity in her presence. Also, I guess maybe she thought I should be rejoicing at the fact that she had come to visit me on her own instead of just accompanying Bubbles.

"You don't live in the most secure building Buttercup. And that's actually part of what I came here to say." She folded her arms behind her back and started to pace as she always did when something was troubling her. Her fiery hair that fell down her back and skimmed her upper thighs, restrained only by a loose red ribbon at the ends, swayed with her every movement. Just standing up, placing one foot in front of the other as she paced, she was the most graceful girl – no, woman – I had ever laid my eyes on. It irked me to no end.

Suddenly, she snapped her head in my direction. "Buttercup… you know I care, right?" Woah. Unexpected much? "Even when we disagree on things, I'd still be there to watch over you. And I… I just want to confess that I actually have been watching over you, lately."

I felt my heart jump into my throat. "Y-you what? Wha- what do you mean watching?" 'Shit.'

She sighed and shook her head. "I know, I know. You want to be independent and all of that, or whatever it is you think that this setup may accomplish. But I recently took up this intern position at Citiesville's City Hall, and I figured I would check up on you from time to time, to make sure you were doing alright. But today-"

"How long have you been doing this?" I interrupted, trying to hide my uneven breathing. I was two second from sweating nervous bullets. She cleared her throat – a personal signal that she would use to warn Bubbles or me that we were being rude.

"Well, I only just accepted the position last week. But during my visits to Citiesville every other week, I would stop by all the places I know you like to go… like here, your 'job', the gym, and unfortunately, the bar. But Buttercup… I went looking for you all over the city and you were nowhere to be found. So I got worried and decided to come here to wait to see if you'd show up." She inclined towards me, eyes searching mines as if she'd find the answers there. I bit the inside of my cheek and narrowed my eyes.

'She couldn't possibly know. She can't possibly know.'

"I was at a friend's house. But that's beside the point," I said, trying quickly to switch the subject. I wasn't the best liar in the world. "I can't believe that after all this time, you think you still like you have to watch me! No. Spy on me! Oh right, I remember. It's just because I'm so irresponsible and selfish, right?"

She sighed dramatically and whipped her hair over her shoulder. "No, Buttercup. You've got the wrong idea. I just worry about you making rash decisions and getting in trouble so-"

"You mean you worry about me making my own decisions. Decisions you wouldn't make. Well, despite what you think, I'm not stupid, Blossom. I can handle myself," I spat. 'Or at least I wasn't that stupid… until I decided to work with some of our worst enemies.'

Her eyebrows furrowed and she drew her lips into a thin line, crossing her arms. "I never said you were stupid, Buttercup. You just have a track record for making decisions that you regret." 'You don't know that half of it.'

"Yeah, well maybe I only regretted them because I was just following orders – trying to meet your standard. And maybe now I'm fucking done following orders."

She winced at my profanity, but her irritation didn't subside.

"Firstly, watch your language. Secondly, don't you think it's time for you to grow up now? For goodness sake, Buttercup, we're twenty one! This whole independent thing is getting older than your attitude. Look at where you work. Look at this apartment. No one actually lives in Citiesville; they commute! Do you really want to live like this for the rest of your life just because of some misunderstanding between you and the Professor?"

My head was reeling, but not faster than my rage. Misunderstanding? Really?

"M…Misunderstanding? Are you fucking kidding me, Blossom?! Just because you never had to be scrutinized for being 'little miss perfect', doesn't mean getting told I was fucking faulty is just some fucking misunderstanding!" I belted out, making sure to add some extra venom to my f-bombs. I was almost certain that I'd be getting some complaints for neighbors later on, but I didn't care.

Right now screaming was all I could to vent my anger. It was hard enough trying to control my temper and not lash out on her. Everything about her was graceful until she opened her goddamn mouth. Her tone was always so condescending, her manner was judgmental, and I was beyond done dealing with it.

She closed the distance between us in two short strides and was in my face in an instant. Her bright pink eyes bore into my electric green ones and I could swear there was a live spark that passed through them. Anger colored her face a bright red, but behind the aggravation I could see disappointment. It etched itself into her grimace, but her tense jaw tried to convince me otherwise.

"Listen, Buttercup. You're my sister and I love you, but I'm done tolerating your stubbornness," she said. I scoffed and opened my mouth to respond but she hushed me before I could. And for some reason, I let her continue.

"If you want me to stop checking up on you, fine. If you want to live on your own in this dump just to prove something to yourself, fine. But as your older sister, your leader, I demand that you pull yourself together and find the decency that I know you have in you, and make up with the Professor. You can only be a child and play these games for so long before you make a huge mistake that I can't fix for you."

The few seconds it took for me to find the right words to respond felt like hours.

"I don't need you to fix anything for me. I make my own decisions, and I accept every consequence. But you're right. We're not kids anymore, which means I don't have to take this bullshit anymore. Leave."

But when they came out, they came out bitter and strong.

"Gladly," she retorted. She turned to the door behind me and strutted out without as much as a glance in my direction. It was only when I heard my front door slam that I let my guard fall along with the tension in my shoulders. I was jittery from not only anger, but also nervousness. It didn't end well, but it could've ended a lot worse had Blossom followed me to my earlier destination and found out about my subtle infidelity.

It could have ended a whole lot worse.

Despite the slightly better than expected outcome, I slid down my bedroom door with my head in my hands, counting backwards from ten. It was a self-taught habit and the only thing – aside from my tattered green blankie and strong liquor – that offered solace when I was distressed.

Ten, nine, eight…

This – this unavoidable clash of two stubborn sisters – was precisely why Blossom and I would only meet when our mediator, Bubbles, was present. If we successfully avoided getting into a physical fight, it usually always ended with me having the last, hurtful word, and Blossom slamming the door. This time though, I wouldn't combat the churning in my gut with liquor, but rather with strategy.

Seven, six, five…

I had purpose, ability, and now she had just given me motivation. All my earlier notions of immorality flew from my mind the minute the door slammed shut.

Four, three, two…

If she thought I was doing this to prove something to just myself, then boy was she in for a surprise.

One.

Brick

It'd be a lie if Brick said he didn't like to pat himself on the back quite often. He deserved it though. I mean, he was pure genius.

From the moment he heard from Butch that Buttercup happened to be living on her own in Citiesville, he knew it'd be easy to recruit her. Always the rebel – the girl that needed to prove something to the world, he knew the green puff would jump on the chance to differentiate herself form her siblings in the slightest or most drastic way. Granted he didn't actually want a Powerpuff Girl on his team, he did see how her input and resoluteness would be valuable assets to his entire operation. He would put all his bets on the fact that she was far more intuitive than his dumb ass brothers.

But mostly, if handled correctly, he could really stir things up with her on his team. The power of betrayal and manipulation were not to be underestimated. He and his red headed, perfectionist, bitchy counterpart had a score that was far from settled and involving her estranged sister would definitely give him an advantage.

Just thinking about her set him on edge.

How? How had he been so damn stupid? Even at a mere fifteen years old he should've known better than to let her get under his skin. The fact that six years later he still thought about destroying her from the inside out made him sick. His mind should be focusing on business – financial matters – not dredging up some six-year-old bullshit.

In the confines of his bedroom, situated on the seventh floor just under his equally elaborate office, Brick was in his comfort zone. His hair, luxurious and red, tied back; the silkiest of red boxers hugging closely to his angular hips; his 1000 thread count sheets, crease-free and cool against his bare skin; Cindy a mere call away; his laptop next to him with his most important files hidden in indistinguishable tabs.

Once he'd cleaned up his desktop and prepared the files for the next stakeout, he'd most definitely be giving Cindy a call. She was always on call as far as he was concerned. He needed her company specifically tonight to get the image of that red headed wench out of his mind. He needed her fast.

He tapped away at his keyboard, closing out files, saving some, and permanently deleting others. It was a quick process and he was only a few clicks away from a night of bliss when something on a file caught his attention.

The Garrets – some of his richest and most dependable (as in gullible) clients were moving to Townsville soon. Aside from a groan of contempt from his pockets, that wasn't what troubled him.

In the Garrets's records, under 'Valuable Pieces of Interest', was a book of formulas. There was a photo of the book under its name, and Brick remembered dismissing it as unimportant when he reviewed the files before. He was a genius himself; what would he need with a book of formulas when he could create almost any formula without a second thought?

But scratched on the cover on the book, in barely legible handwriting, was something that made his skin crawl with urgency and his brain pulse with realization.

He recognized the formula from years ago when he'd gone snooping through Mojo's lab.

Antidote X.

Fuck.

An entire week had gone by without word from any of the Rowdyruffs. Though I was admittedly anxious for my first assignment, I didn't let that pin me down. After two days of waiting by my phone, on edge just knowing that a call would come in telling me that I needed to be on the go, I got bored. I even started considering going back to my old job just to see how things were going. And that's saying something considering I didn't give a damn about how things were going. Instead, I decided it would be better if I occupied myself with doing things that I had been procrastinating for a while. In fact, I had gotten more done this week than I had in the past few months.

First, I'd done some grocery shopping; chips, coffee, beer, cereal, eggs – you know, the essentials. Then, I managed to meet up with Tammi for lunch where she spent hours venting to me about how awful the new employee was and how Bossman was being even more of a dick since I'd left. Apparently, he'd even started hitting on her too. I promised her that I would stop by for a surprise visit whenever she wanted me to so that I could scare, and most likely beat the shit out of that asshole for her.

I'd also spent a lot of time at the gym. Fortunately, they had gotten a new door (hopefully a Butch proofed door this time), and Devon hadn't ratted me out to the cops so I was still allowed in. I still apologized to Dev for the commotion, being that I did play a small part in the issue anyway. Seemed to me like he wasn't really sweating it, but I still offered to make it up to him. He also hadn't bothered me too much about what had 'happened' between Butch and me. It was kind of strange considering the fact that Devon almost never stopped pestering and worrying about me.

Maybe he was saving all his energy for when he and the other guys came over later today to watch the game. It was the only thing I could think of to offer to make up for probably almost getting him fired. He kindly accepted the offer.

Figuring I wouldn't have to go to work today as I hadn't had to in the past week since I'd gotten the job, I figured it would be okay for me to schedule tonight's game at my place for the first time in forever. I could count one hand the amount of times I willingly had people ever to my ratty apartment. Because not only had I not had the time until recently, but last time I had the guys over I was still cleaning up the mess months later.

But since I had the spare time now, I figured, 'Eh, why the hell not?'

I'd done some sprucing up… which basically meant wiping the crumbs off of the couch, on to the floor, and then proceeding to sweep them under the couch. When Dev and the guys got here, they'd be carrying snacks and, more importantly, liquor, so I didn't think they'd really care how clean my place was. Besides, it'd just get filthy all over again.

All that was left to do was shower. It was stuffy in my apartment due to the fact that I wasn't taking any chances with open and/or unlocked windows, so I was covered in sweat.

I left my phone on the charger in my bedroom, grabbed a towel, and once the water was at the right temperature, stepped into the shower and let the hot water provoke me into the long-avoided, deep contemplation.

I scoffed to myself as thoughts of Blossom bombarded my subconscious for the umpteenth time since our confrontation. Of course she would be at the forefront of my thoughts.

You see your sister for the first time in a while and the first thing you do is complain about how she lives her own life? Call her stupid and childish? Yeah, great show of sisterly affection.

Not to mention the fact that she'd been watching me and I hadn't known all this time. How had I been so clueless? I struggled trying not to think about it, and when I did, I tried to reason with myself.

She couldn't know about my deal and partnership with the Rowdyruffs, could she? No. Impossible. If I knew anything about Blossom, I knew she'd be on my case the first chance she got if she heard about me ever associating with an enemy. All hell would have broken loose by now. Right?

Or maybe she was in such a state of shock when she found out that she couldn't gather enough words to scream my head off at that moment and she would come back to do it later.

Either way, the fact that she'd been following me around for any amount of time didn't sit well in my gut. The fact that she AND Butch had apparently been following me recently, knowing all the places I frequented and chilled at, all the things I did in my spare time – that unnerved the living shit out of me. It would only take one chance encounter between the two to start World War V, and I would be at the center of the chaos, forced to choose a side; forced to choose between my loyalty and my independence.

I shuddered at the thought. I never fully understood how showers had the power to take people into the deepest darkest corners of their minds. But for this matter, I had to control it. I wasn't going to make any life choices right at this moment. Not when there was a game to be watched, snacks to be eaten, and beer to be chugged. Nope.

'We'll cross the bridge when we get there, Buttercup. No need to be hasty. Just enjoy the game, and after that, wait for your call.' I was good at reasoning with my conscience lately. Though, sometimes like now, I would opt to throw in some humming to drown it out. It was the only way I could ever get things done.

As I hummed Paramore's Decode, I washed up, washed and rinsed my hair, and frowned as the strands fell to the top of my breasts. It was now, officially WAY too long. If I didn't get a job call by tomorrow I'd probably stop somewhere to get a few inches of it chopped off.

Then I would go back to waiting. Goddammit, how long was I going to have to wait? I signed up for action and so far all I'd gotten was a good view of a fight from the window two days ago as I waited for my phone to ring.

I groaned and turned off the shower.

'Game, Buttercup. Focus. Chill. Tap into that inner Zen. Regret is not an option.'

I shook my head, water swinging in an arc around me. Once again I decided that I would listen to the voice in my head instead of my gut for now. With a final shake of my head, I pushed the shower curtain open.

All my racing thoughts stopped when I came face to face with Butch though.

I screamed, wrapping my arms around my chest and crouching low. It was all I could do to try to cover myself, all the while trying not to slip.

Butch clicked his tongue and chuckled. "Nice look."

"WHAT THE FUCK. WHA-… WHY… GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY BATHROOM!" I shouted.

"Sorry, can't. Boss's orders," he said.

I reached for the shower curtain in so I could wrap it around me, but he held it from my reach, grinning wickedly. It's funny how my conscience had so much to say on its own a few seconds ago, but when I tried to consult it now all I got was, 'Holy shit holy shit holy shit HOLYFUCKINGSHIT!'

I was on my own with this one.

"I swear to everything – I swear by everything that has ever existed, Butch, if you don't fucking leave NOW, I'll fucking KILL YOU! GET. OUT."

He only tilted his head a bit, the mischievous smile still tugging at his lips and his dark eyes wandering a bit more. Then he said, "Told you, babe. I can't. You could always try and make me, though. We could make this a physical ordeal."

All I could do was roar my frustration. I felt every muscle in my body coil up as if I were a wild animal getting ready to pounce on my prey and rip its throat out. I used those tension-filled seconds to assess my situation and weigh my options. Tactics; one thing Icould actually thank Blossom for.

I could get up and attack him, making sure to give him a slow, painful demise. But I would risk exposing myself – my fully naked self – to a pervert like him. I think not.

OR

I could melt his fucking eyes out, make it so he could never have kids, get dressed, and be on my way to slaughter Brick for giving Butch whatever assignment it was that had put me in such a situation. This sounded much more appealing.

Finally, I screamed out, "I don't give a FUCK what your Boss's orders are. If you don't leave right now, I'll fucking incinerate the both of you!" He bit his lip playfully and I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my arms, my eyes locking with his and starting to heat up. It didn't matter if he thought I was bluffing or not. I really was going to incinerate him.

The moment my laser eye beams shot for his face though, his arm shot up in defense as he shielded himself with a towel. My towel. The only towel I'd brought into the bathroom with me. My jaw dropped and my eyes widened, my gaze shifting between his maniacally amused face and the smoking pile of ash that used to be my favorite towel.

At the risk of destroying more of my own treasured things, I quickly decided that incinerating wouldn't be the ideal thing to do at the moment. But it would most definitely be placed at the top of the list when my property or dignity wasn't at risk. The only thing left for me to do was reasoning.

Butch crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, a calm and cool chuckle resonating through the small room. His eyes were still dark, only little flecks of his usual green showing beneath his dilated pupils, but at least now his gaze was fixed on my face. His amusement is what made everything worse. "My orders were to bring you to the office ASAP. Job to do. No time to waste. I already wasted too much time by doing you a favor and letting you finish your shower. Nice humming voice by the way."

I quivered and hunkered down lower into the tub, now sure that I was turning red. My hair was still dripping and I was starting to get cold, but none of that mattered.

How long had I been in the shower? How had he gotten into my house? How long had he been in my bathroom while I was in the shower? How had I not known? How much had he already seen? Finally an assignment? There were so many questions that I could ask and that I needed answers to, but now certainly wasn't the time for them. Now was time for propositions and/or maiming.

"Listen, you nasty little shit. I don't care how urgent it is, I'm not going anywhere without my clothes!" I finally said. Ultimatums were pretty resourceful.

"No time for clothes. Will underwear do?" He reached behind him and held up something black. Something black and lacy. Looking closer, I saw that they were the only black and lacy pair of underwear I've ever owned that I got as a gag gift on my eighteenth birthday.

This motherfucker went through my shit. Nothing set me off more than when people messed with my shit. I snapped.

"I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!" I roared as I jumped from the tub, baring all of my assets for the few milliseconds that I was airborne.

I shoulder tackled him through the open door and into the hallway, using one free arm to cover my breasts. On the other, my fist crackled with green energy and I planted it firm into his abdomen. His impact with the wall behind him made a huge crater that I would have to pay for later… literally. He doubled over, grunting in pain. I would finish him off… but that came second on my list of priorities AFTER putting some clothes on. Thankfully in the short scuffle he had released my underwear. I snatched them and sped off into the nearest room which happened to be the living room.

I hastily slid on the lacy panties and attempted to put on the bra, just barely putting my arms through the straps before Butch came rushing in, tackling me onto the couch. There was a snap, then a thump, signifying the brand new couch's vain struggle to cope with the situation. It tipped forward spilling us both onto the floor. That didn't stop us though.

Butch had me in a chokehold, his legs locked around mines. When I realized I couldn't wriggle out of the hold, I did the only plausible thing. I bit him as hard as possible. He screamed out and let me go and I scrambled up.

My room wasn't too far away. If I could just throw on a shirt and some shorts, I could finish this fight with at least some of my dignity intact.

Of course it wasn't that simple though.

Butch shot a shocking blast to the center of my back. I yelped as the shock ran through my spine. My knees buckled, and suddenly I was falling to the floor. He tackled and pinned me down before I could fully get back up. His superior weight and slightly more advantageous power disabled me from doing anything more than hissing, spitting, and firing off any shots that would hurt him and not my already fragile apartment. After a few frantic seconds of that, and seeing how Butch barely flinched, I stopped.

"Are you quite finished?" he asked, lips twitching into a half grin. He was trying to play it off, but I could still tell he was struggling to control his labored breathing. Good.

"I'll be finished when you're dead! Now get the fuck off of me," I responded through gritted teeth. I was straining to get up, but he was straining just as hard to keep me down. He chuckled and shook his head, tightening his grip on my wrists.

"You like making things difficult don't you? I get that. Makes things interesting, fun," he raised his eyebrows, giving me a once over with his insane, intense, green eyes. I sneered in response and his smirk widened.

"If a fight is what you want, you got it anytime babe. But right now, we've got a job to do. It's too bad we can't play more while you're like this though," he said. "Now, I'm gonna get up. And I'm gonna need you to follow-"

"Buttercup!" I knew the voice. It was Devon. "You okay in there!? You're lock is broken and your door was open so I –"

Before either Butch or I could react, Devon had already stepped in. We snapped our heads in his direction just in time to see his eyes go wide and his jaw drop along with some of the bags he was carrying. His eyes flicked to mine then to Butch's then back to mines, all the while a slow blush creeping up his neck.

Envisioning the scene from his point of view, I probably would've been speechless too. With me pretty much in lingerie and Butch on top of me pinning me down, both of us looking disheveled and breathing hard, his reaction was warranted. I shuddered and gagged inwardly just thinking about what he probably WRONGLY thought was going on.

Devon was one of the few guys that you could read like a book. So it wasn't hard to see the conflict in his face; torn between wanting to attack Butch but knowing he couldn't and wanting to ask what was going on and already figuring it out for himself. There was something else there too – a sudden recognition.

Butch was the same guy who broke the door in the gym chasing me out. Now I couldn't decide whether his red face was from embarrassment or fury. Or both.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, I interjected, "Listen, Dev. It's not what it looks like. I-"

"We were just leaving, man. See ya around," Butch cut in. He gave Dev a peace sign and a smug grin. Then he got up, threw me over his shoulder, busted out one of my windows with little effort, and flew out.

I did my kicking and screaming but other than that, there was nothing I could do about any of it. We were already en route to the office, I was flying miles high above Citiesville in only lacy underwear over Butch's shoulder, and Devon was probably still standing flabbergasted in the middle of my destroyed apartment, wondering what the hell had just happened.

To be honest, I wasn't even completely sure what happened, myself. But I did know two things for sure:

I was NOT happy. And I would damn sure let them know it, too.

Butch set me down without fanfare, pretty much dropping me on the floor when we entered the eight story, tinted office building, otherwise known as HQ. I could see very faint bruises forming on his face and arms – a result of my directed fury during our flight. He had to choose between fighting back and risking me flying off, or just restraining me and taking it; he reluctantly settled on the latter. Hell hath no fury like a superpowered woman kidnapped from her apartment in only her undergarments and I made sure he understood that the fight was far from over.

I stood up, crossing my arms over my scantily clad chest, shooting him a look of disgust. "I'm not going anywhere until I get clothes. And that I will bet my life on, motherfucker."

He just snorted and said, "Really? You're still not over it by now. I've seen plenty of naked women before. You're no special case, bitch. But if you insist – Harper!"

Within seconds of him bellowing out the unfamiliar name, the same dark haired, airy voiced woman I had encountered during my first visit to HQ materialized by his side. She must have had the power of invisibility; useful.

She didn't acknowledge my presence, but I took no offense. Her eyes were too busy taking in every aspect that was Butch. I wouldn't have noticed me either if I paid that much attention to one person. But then again, I'd never understood what it was about this maniac that made girls go crazy. Who knew, maybe I was the only sane girl in the world.

"What can I do for you, Boss?" the woman, Harper, asked, sounding all too eager to please.

"Strip down to your underwear," Butch said.

I opened my mouth to start my rant on how much of a nasty, perverted piece of shit he was… until she actually started stripping.

I watched, mouth agape, as her blazer, skirt, and everything else came off until she stood, much like myself, only in her underwear. I was speechless.

Butch turned his attention to me with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "If only you knew how cooperate like this." He sighed dramatically, then winked at Harper. It must have been some sort of signal because she grinned, nodded, and walked away, sashaying her nakedness proudly.

"Get dressed. You wasted enough time already," he said to me.

Anxious to no longer be exposed in front of him, I actually followed directions and started putting on the girl's clothes. For my sake, NOT his.

"We wouldn't have had to waste time like this if you'd just let me get dressed in the first place, you piece of shit."

"Now, what fun would that've been?" He leaned in close to me just as I was putting on Harper's too-tight-around-the-boobs-and-too-shortly-sleeved blazer, snapped my bra strap, and sped off before I could react. The elevator doors shut in my face when I attempted to chase and kill him.

Good thing they did, because it gave me time to think.

'He's acting like a high schooler just to irk you, Buttercup. Don't let one moron ruin something worthwhile.' Yes. Thank you conscience, for your long since warranted input on this whole situation. That's nice.

Nonetheless, I listened. I wouldn't let one idiot ruin my plans. I'd get my revenge in due time. Holy SHIT, would I get my revenge.

Until then, I proceeded to Brick's office to let him know what I thought about everything that had occurred within the last past week.

"This is pure bullshit," I spat.

Brick sat tilted back in his chair at his gaudy desk, swinging his signature, juvenile, stupid red hat around on his finger. As much as I wanted to snatch it from him and suffocate him with it, I conducted myself in a more subdued manner by simply cursing him out.

"A fucking week of no calls, no action. Then I finally decide to take a day to myself, thinking I'd be okay for just one fucking day – no! Just a few goddamn hours, and you send your psycho lackey up to get me? While I was showering?! "

Brick raised his eyebrow, his apathetic display faltering briefly. "How were we supposed to know what you were doing? Like I said we don't stalk. And I didn't send him specifically during your allotted 'shower time.' I just told him to bring you here since you apparently don't like to answer calls."

I opened my mouth to respond then shut it immediately. My phone was still on its charger in my bedroom at home. Had I brought it into the bathroom with me, I would've heard it ring and probably could have avoided everything.

But still… "But why Butch? Couldn't you have sent one of your less psychotic minions? Hell, even Boomer would've been better that that motherfucker and you know it!"

He only shrugged and said, "He gets the job done."

"'Gets the job done' my ass," I scoffed. I regretted the 'my ass' part when I saw the corner of his mouth twitch, hinting at a smirk. I slammed my fist on the desk and snarled at his insinuation.

His attempted smirk fell instantly at my gesture as he checked his desk for any fractures I may have caused. Vain motherfucker. Finding nothing, unfortunately (because boy would I love to have seen the look on his face if he had), he looked up to me with a grimace and said, "Hey, you'll probably have to work with him more than anyone else so you might as well get used to it." At this, he actually allowed himself to smile a bit. Just as I was about to tell him I'd write my resignation letter he continued, "Push comes to shove, just use one of those free three hits I gave you. Just count them out and he can't retaliate. If he does anyway, then I'll handle it. Now, can we get to business? Or are you not done wasting time?"

I'd forgotten about my three hits. Immediately I knew my revenge on Butch would be sweet. And the fact that Brick was willing to uphold it told me that at least he had matured in the least bit over the years.

So I gave a curt nod and leaned back from the desk. "Fine. What's the job?"

"The Halloways. Moved into the wealthy area of Citiesville a couple of months ago. I need you and Butch to go scope the place out. Granted I don't know how much time you have left to do that considering that you've wasted so much already."

'Oh, so that's why we were on a time constraint. To not get busted breaking into homes. Great choice in a job Buttercup. Stellar.'

"I'm not stealing anyone's stuff. That's where I draw the line," I said, more to combat my conscience than to refute Brick.

"I never said you had to steal or even touch anything. For now, I just want you to look for connections and check out their security system while Butch tags items of interest. I wanted you guys to go as early as possible but since I seem to be the only mature on around here, it seems I'm the only one who cares about punctuality."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "Whatever. Do it your damn self if you're so fucking amazing."

"I would," he sneered, not missing a chance to boost his ego. "But I'm not expendable. If you guys get caught because you wasted time fucking around, it's not my problem. But if I hear anything about my name being spoken, I'm coming straight for you, puff."

I took his threat with a grain of salt. Expendable? I'd teach him how fucking expendable I was. For now, I just waved him away with my middle finger and stalked out of his office, the heavy door closing behind me with a solid thud.

Butch was leaning against the wall when I came out, a look of annoyance on his face. He must've overheard and probably wasn't too keen on working with me either. Good.

"Ready now? Or have you got some more showering or bitching to do?" he asked. I stiffened and turned to face him, glowering at him intently until his mask of amusement faltered. Then I counted out "One," drew my foot back, and kicked him in the groin as hard as superhumanly possible.

His eyes bulged from his head as he dropped to the ground in anguish, groaning and curling up into fetal position. After a moment, he bared his teeth and glared at me, but didn't… or rather still couldn't, retaliate. I smirked.

"Now I'm ready."

Spare thoughts, opinions, and/or ratings? I hope I'm keeping you all simultaneously entertained and intrigued?