Disclaimer: I do not own any content form the Powerpuff Girls. Original characters, however, are mine so 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, LIKERS, FOLLOWERS, AND REVIEWERS (special love to you who take the time to review 3). I know it's been awhile and what can I really say other than sorry? Last time I updated, it was the beginning of my summer break and I had all this time and then, life just got in the way. Then, I got back to school and shit just got crazy hectic (my schedule is super sucky). But enough about that. (Also my birthday just passed and there's that and whatnot.) Let's just all accept that fact that I am a major procrastinator and life is too unpredictable for promises. And to some of my reviewers who thought I might have died, luckily I'm still here. I'd like to think that I didn't keep you guys waiting that long, right?

Anyways as always thank you for the reviews! They are extremely motivating for such a procrastinator like me!~ I didn't receive as much feedback as I had hoped for, but beggars can't be choosey now, can they? I'm glad you guys are enjoying and I hope you enjoy and review this next chapter even more!

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

Butch

There was very little exchange between the two during their trip down to the garage. A few glares and sneers, and a thick, heated silence. And Butch was extremely grateful for the silence. He could only imagine what her bitching would add to the pain in his nuts and guts he was still recuperating from. Holy shit did they still hurt, and that was saying something considering his ability to heal in the blink of an eye.

He shot another heated glare at the violent girl next to him at the memory. She smirked.

When they finally reached the garage, dimmed and drafty as always, he hit the unlock button on his keys and the headlights of his black Escalade lit up. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Buttercup's eyes widen and her lips part in awe. It was his turn to smirk.

"Hot damn…" she whispered. She approached the passenger side of the SUV with a spark of excitement in her step, put her face to the heavily tinted windows and attempted to peer inside. "This isn't the newest model… but it's almost better," she said under her breath, unable or perhaps unwilling to mask her incredulity despite herself.

"Like what you see, I'm guessing?" Butch asked with a grin. Buttercup pulled her face back from the window and shrugged like she just remembered who she was complimenting.

"It's alright. I've seen better. Much better," she said, sneering. He simply snorted and motioned her to get in, opening the driver's side door for himself.

Of all his stolen possessions, his Escalade had always been one of his favorites. Every year for the past five years he'd steal the newest model and do some upgrading on his best friend. His brothers would call him an idiot for not just getting rid of his 'outdated hunk of junk' and keeping the new one, but Butch felt like it was an accomplishment for him to feel sentimental about anything. Burn everything he owned for all he fucking cared, just don't touch his fucking Escalade.

Butch opened his door, slid into the perfectly adjusted leather seat, and cranked over the engine. Everything, from the steering wheel to the dimmed lighting, was perfectly attended to and he could see from the corner of his eye that Buttercup was, again, impressed. This time she at least tried to hide it by pressing her lips thin to appear indifferent, but still he noticed her eyes darting over every inch of the interior.

"Feast your eyes, babe. Just be sure not to wet my seats. It took me some time to get out the last stain some bitch left when she first felt how smooth the ride was," he said, snickering when she sunk into the seat and brought her trademark glower back to her face.

"Shut up and drive the damn car," she growled, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest. "And speaking of time, why the hell are we driving anyway if we're so pressed for time?"

Butch was already easing out from the underground parking lot when he glanced over in her direction. "Does it make more sense to you for us fly, visible to the whole city and everything, over to the house we plan to rob?"

His question was met with more silence, then a mumbled, "I'm not robbing anybody."

Butch turned onto the vacant street and started them in the direction of the Halloway's house. "That's what I thought."

The ride to the Halloway's estate was quick and efficient; Butch managed to avoid the midday traffic by taking all of the back roads. The cracks and potholes in the pavement of the side streets might as well had been invisible – his Escalade glided effortlessly over each one. It took every ounce of will in me to not show my excitement or any traces of envy. My hunk of junk jeep would have probably fallen apart just trying to pull out of the parking lot.

But I'd say the best part wasn't the ride itself, but the fact that I had managed to piss him off a countless number of times during said ride. From messing with the radio and stereo system, to rolling his deeply tinted windows up and down and forcing him to lock them, I was proud to say that I was probably the cause of the crease between his eyebrows and the throbbing vein on his neck.

"Jeez, just fucking leave it alone!" he barked as I pushed the button to his radio again, causing a random rap song to blare out at us with the volume at full blast. He knocked my hand away and jammed his finger on the button so hard I was sure he would break it. Unfortunately, he didn't. "Goddammit, remind me to tell Brick what a shitty idea it was to bring you along."

"Remind yourself, dumbfuck," I grumbled.

"Bitch."

"Dickhead."

"Cunt."

"Asshole."

"We're here."

My mouth was already poised with the next insult before I realized what he had said. He had angled the Escalade against the curb, nestled between two worn out cars that couldn't hold a candle to his. Not that I would ever say that aloud.

When I looked out the window at my first assignment, where I expected to see a mini mansion stood a five story, decrepit brick apartment building. I scrunched my nose and turned to him.

"Seriously? What valuable stuff could a person living there have?"

He stared at me for a moment as if he were gathering his thoughts, then said, "And they say Bubbles is the dumb one." He passed a hand over his face in aggravation and sighed heavily. "Tell me, please, why the hell I'd park right in front of the house I plan to break into?"

I bit the inside of my cheek and said nothing. 'Duh, Buttercup. If you're going to act like a villain, you'd better start thinking like one too.'

"Used to forcing your way through the front door, right? Never had to sneak through the back, have you?" He smirked. The insinuation wasn't lost on me, but I chose to let it pass. All the shit he talked would only add power to my next hit.

"How far away is it?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"About five blocks over if we go through the apartment building and out through the back door."

"Let's get this over with," I said, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut behind me.

"God-Fucking-Dammit! Can you not slam my doors?!" he hissed, rushing to my side of the car to inspect the invisible damage.

"Well look on the bright side. If I break it, it's not like you lose money since you most likely stole it anyway, right?" I said with a shrug, heading towards the brick building. I didn't bother glancing behind me, already knowing he was red faced and seething behind me.

Passing through the building to the back door was an easy task. Those who lurked in the hallway were much too engrossed in their dealings to pay us any serious attention. Some people even nodded to Butch in acknowledgement. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered why I wasn't surprised in the least bit.

Once out of the building and through the gate, we walked three blocks up and came across the poverty line. Literally. Where the cracked pavement and strewn litter of one street ended, an immaculate, litter-free, and freshly paved boulevard began. It was clear that we were nearing our assignment.

"It'll be the seventh house down on the right. Yellow," Butch murmured. At a glance, I noticed that he had wisely chosen to wear a fresh pair of jeans and some random band t-shirt, no doubt aiming to blend in with the neighborhood's disgruntled teenaged sons and daughters. It helped that I was still wearing Harper's discarded business slacks and blazer even if they were too short and too tight in some places. I could easily get mistaken for a businesswoman on an off day. The neighbors that weren't away at work slaving away to pay off their ridiculous mortgages didn't pay us any attention as we strolled leisurely down the block with our heads down.

We were mere steps away from our assigned house, a two story, yellow Victorian beaut, when Butch dipped into the unfenced yard of the neighboring house and motioned me to follow him. I obliged.

He hunkered down into the shrubbery of the yard and I followed suit after making sure no one was watching.

"Here's the part where you lose the bitchy attitude and actually become useful," he whispered, a serious tone overtaking his usual mocking one. I noticed my fists instantly clenched at the 'bitchy' part, but again, I reserved my anger. He'd catch it later, but for the sake of time and efficiency, I simply waited for him to continue.

"I counted two motion sensing cameras, one at the front, one at the right side, and none at the back. We don't have to worry about the one at the front, but the one at the side is a problem. I need you to use that dumb Powerpuff brain of yours-"

"You really liked me kicking you in the nuts, didn't you?" I warned.

His lips only hinted at a grin but he continued, "-and think of a way of to distract the camera while I make my way to the back. Try not to get yourself caught."

And before I could respond, he stood and began making his way toward the back of the house. I opened my mouth to scream at him to come back, but snapped it closed again when I realized that yelling would be counterproductive at this point.

'Shit!' I thought. I didn't have much time before the camera picked up on Butch. The asshole hadn't given me any time. 'Think, Buttercup, think!'

I couldn't throw a rock; it would be too small for the camera to detect. And the neighbors might not be so good at ignoring flying boulders.

Just as I began contemplating the risk that would accompany shooting laser beams at the camera, by the grace of whatever being was up there watching my ass, I noticed a small dog, probably let out in the neighborhood to pee, in my peripheral vision. In a flash of brilliance and pure hope I pitched a pebble across the yard hoping the dog would notice it and be gullible enough to follow it. Thankfully, it was.

The dog toddled on its stumpy legs across the yard, close enough to the camera for it to turn with interest to the dumb pup. It did so just in time too, as Butch had just crossed its threshold and passed with ease into the backyard. I scrambled from my hiding place to rush after him to the back of the house. There was no way I was going to wait in the bushes while he took his time gathering shit on the inside.

The camera was still fixated on the dog that decided it would relieve itself on the pebble I had tossed, completely ignoring my existence as I sped in the direction Butch had gone. By the time I got to him, he had already picked the lock on the backdoor and was standing in the entrance with his trademark smirk plastered on his face.

"You're an ass," I breathed out, wiping my hands, clammy with nervous sweat, on my slacks.

"So I've been told," he replied. "Now let's go."

I followed him into the house and softly closed the door behind me with my backside, breathing a sigh of relief once the incriminating sunlight had been shut out. "Now what?" I asked. I was already fed up with the assignment, but determined enough to see it through.

"Now, we go shopping," he replied.

I scoffed at the nonchalance in his voice. Easy for him to say. I was still a bit hung up on the irony of the fact that I'd spent majority of my life beating the shit out of people who went 'shopping' at houses that weren't theirs. Now look at me.

I silently followed behind Butch as he moved from room to room. He took pictures on his phone of anything that looked like it was worth a few hundred dollars or more. Jewelry, paintings, electronics, clothes; it seemed nothing was off limits. Every now and then he would turn to me and raise an eyebrow in askance. 'This look like it's worth anything to you?'

I would shrug or shake my head and he would turn around giving me an eye roll, taking a picture of it anyway. Nope. I wasn't here to help with any of the stealing or 'shopping' as he liked to call it. I was just here to watch for cameras and connections to the dartboard issue while Butch handled the real illegal stuff and I would stick to doing that, and only that.

Searching the house for another fifteen minutes, I had finally come to the conclusion that there was nothing in this place that I could consider incriminating. Floral print here, tacky ass wallpaper there, and a closet full of clothes that probably should have been destroyed two decades ago, but no dartboards.

I was a little disappointed with the assignment if I was being completely honest. I sacrificed the relative purity of my morals to feel like an independent, daring, super spy, not to feel like a damn intern.

"Are we done yet?" I asked Butch who was rummaging through a drawer in the master bedroom. Mostly I thought that we needed to be heading out before someone showed up. We had already spent too much time here for comfort. But there was also the nagging boredom that told me I could be doing something a lot more interesting. Like watching the game.

"Just about done here. Just let me check this last drawer and… oh."

Despite my attempts at indifference, I was curious about what Butch could possibly find that would catch him off guard. I peered over his shoulder to see what he picked up.

"Oh."

Butch snorted and twirled the contraption in his hand. "Look familiar, Buttercup?"

A vibrator. Of course he found a vibrator. I felt heat rise to my face and I pursed my lips in disgust to combat it.

"Just put it back, you pervert. We don't have time for this."

"Oh I think there's a little time," he said, flipping the switch on vibrator and smirking as it came to life, the buzzing noise filling the room.

If my deadpan expression didn't give away my lack of amusement, then perhaps it was the turning of my back, my striding out of the room, or the "Bye," I called out as I made my way downstairs and to the back door that hinted at him that I was done with his bullshit.

Butch followed close behind, laughing maniacally behind me. "Oh man, you should've seen your face! You looked like you were gonna-"

I tensed. I could've sworn that I heard keys jingling under his obnoxious voice.

"Shut up," I hissed at him.

He looked as if he were going to protest my command, then he tensed. He heard them, too.

"Janice, where did you leave it?" I heard muffled, gruff a voice shout. Further away than the first voice was a shrill tenor yelling back that 'it' was upstairs in the bathroom.

Panic shot through me, and my eyes darted around. Nowhere to hide downstairs. It was all open space. Too risky.

"Upstairs. The closet," Butch whispered just loud enough so that only I would hear him. His voice was serious and steely, the obnoxious, mocking tone dropped so instantly that I flinched when he spoke. I nodded.

We sped up stairs, flying so that whoever was coming wouldn't hear our feet pounding up the steps in haste. Just as we reached the closet, closing it behind us with a soft click I head the front door open.

Feet pounded up the stairs. I could make out a muffled grumble about wives wasting time and purses. Then the bedroom door opened. I went frigid and noted that Butch hadn't shown the slightest bit of panic yet. The smug bastard.

The man's shadow blocked the light under the closet door for a second before passing on as he headed toward the master bathroom attached to the bedroom.

"He'll find what he's looking for and they'll be gone in two minutes," Butch said in a voice so low I wouldn't have heard him without my super hearing. I nodded and kept my mouth shut. In the moments that passed, I heard cabinets opening and closing, shuffling feet, and a colorful string of curses. Then, there was a pause.

"I don't see it, Janice," the man said, presumably into his cell phone. He paused for a second, then said, "No I looked there already… What?... Fine whatever, we'll go back tomorrow. Just park the car."

My hands clenched into fists; it was all I could do to keep them from shaking. Whether they shook in nervousness or anger, I wasn't sure just yet.

I looked over to Butch who, thankfully, looked at least a tad bit nervous now. "Two minutes, huh?"

He shrugged and grinned sheepishly.

We spent the entire evening in that closet. It wasn't until we were certain that we heard two sets of snoring that Butch and I were ballsy enough to attempt an escape.

We floated easily through the house and left out through the back door. Hearing the door close with the softest click behind us, I looked at Butch and we nodded simultaneously, then took to the skies. No one would be out this late and we could avoid the camera at the side of the house altogether if we flew, so we did.

The breath I held as we made our long-awaited escape from the closet turned to a puff of fog in the cold night air as I exhaled. I grimaced and looked to Butch. "Now what?" I asked.

Butch directed us over the houses, dipping in certain areas, stealthily avoiding houses that still had light pouring from the windows. "It's got to be past midnight already," he said after looking from his dead cell phone, to the inky black sky. "Brick's gonna be pissed. I say we head back."

I scoffed and shook my head, black tendrils of hair falling into my face. "It's your fault anyways. If you hadn't gone trifling with people's vibrators and what not, we would've been out of there hours ago. You can go show your shopping list to Brick and while you're at it, tell him I found no connections to our little dartboard problem. I'm going home."

We landed in front of the dingy brick building and made our way to Butch's unscathed Escalade. Butch hit a button on his keys and the beautiful, shiny black SUV came to life.

"Fine," Butch sighed. He nodded in the direction of the car. "Want a ride or not?"

Everything in me wanted to say no. But nothing in me protested when I opened the passenger side door.

What could I say? It was a sweet ride.

Butch

Butch had already known she wouldn't have denied another ride in his Escalade. It was a sweet ass ride, after all. Still, she hadn't said a word to him after he pulled up to her apartment building. She simply slammed her door behind her (he barked after her that he would fucking kill her for doing so) and made her way without so much as a glance back. Probably she was still mad that they had spent the better part of the day in a closet hoping 'Janice' wouldn't need to go in there for a change of clothes. Or maybe she was still upset about the whole shower thing that had happened earlier. Butch smirked. That had been the best part of the day in his opinion. But if he knew anything about the green puff, it was that, no matter what, she would always find something to furrow her brows at before the end of the day.

Idling at the curb, Butch thought it might be a good idea to give Brick a status update before he pulled off, so he whipped out his phone, hooked it onto the car charger, and speed dialed the redhead.

Brick picked up on the first ring as usual.

"Where the fuck have you been all day?" Brick shouted. Butch had to pull the phone from his ear to assure that he wouldn't go deaf.

"Chill, dude. Me and your new 'recruit' – who, by the way, should never be paired with me again unless you want her dead – got caught up, is all. I would've called but we were in a… situation." Sparing a few details would ultimately spare Butch's life. As long as he got the job done, Brick usually didn't care what transpired. But if Brick had known how close they were to being caught, the repercussions wouldn't be all that great.

"Situation? Butch, if you two were fucking around on the job I swear-"

"We were NOT, fucking around, Brick. Jeez! What kind of guy do you think I am? The bitch is completely psycho, dude!" Butch interrupted him. "Besides, it was only our first assignment together. Maybe the second time around I'll-"

"Didn't you just say that you didn't want to be paired with her again? Stop contradicting yourself and get your ass back to HQ pronto. We're short staffed in the camera room. Cindy's busy."

"Busy doing who, I wonder," Butch said, the amusement apparent in his voice. The line was quiet for a few seconds before Butch heard the all too familiar disconnecting click. He laughed.

Busy or not, Butch knew he had to get back before Brick came out to find him. The consequences of ignoring or even delaying an order weren't so funny. As he switched gears, ready to pull away from the curb, he heard a familiar angry howl and the breaking of glass. He stepped on the brake, and looked up at Buttercup's apartment window expectantly.

Sure enough, he could just make out her fist protruding from the broken glass. Curious, he rolled down his window and leaned out.

"Yo!" he called out. There was a momentary pause between her fist being drawn back into the window and the whole window being kicked out, like she was pondering whether or not to respond to his call.

Finally, he saw her head poke out, and as usual, she was glowering. Maybe even more deeply than usual. "You asshole!" she screeched. The wind whipped up her hair in around her face, but even from his seat, Butch could see the fury in her eyes. "You broke my fucking lock!"

Butch shrugged. "Okay, and?" He had broken so many things on a daily basis, not to mention the things they'd broken in her apartment while they were fighting earlier, so he didn't understand the significance of one broken lock.

"You fucking idiot!" she said. He could've sworn he heard her voice waver. "Everything's gone!"

I couldn't believe that all of my shit had been stolen while I was gone. My cell phone and the charger, my laptop, my drapes, my new, yet broken couch, my new groceries, liquor included, my shoes, most of my clothes, my fucking mattress – everything I had sacrificed my hard earned money on over the last three years; all gone within the span of a day.

And surprise, surprise! What did the robbers leaving on my fucking wall? A dartboard with a picture of me as the bull's-eye, a single dart protruding from my face to hold the picture in place. I didn't touch it, and I didn't snap a picture of it. I simply stared and let the image burn into my mind.

I couldn't believe it, but at the same time I could. When didn't shit like this happen to me?

After regaining my senses, I felt my eyes grow hot and my stomach hollow out. Instead of tears, laser beams shot from my eyes and struck the dartboard, burning it to cinders. This wasn't something Brick needed to know. Not yet, not ever. This was in my house and that made it that much more personal. What had been a passing threat had just become my number one priority. And boy would I gut the motherfucker who had the balls to touch my shit! But before I went all vigilante on the ballsy bastard who had left the picture in my ruined apartment, I had to first figure out where the hell I was going stay the night.

Was I to sacrifice my pride and go knocking on the Professor's door at one in the morning only to be met with an "I told you so" from miss know-it-all? Or would it be smarter and marginally less demeaning for me to fly over to HQ, full of Rowdyruffs and their whores, hoping that they might have a spear bedroom I could use until I could got my shit worked out?

Neither option sounded all that appealing, but my apartment was not only barren, there was also a hole in the wall, a busted window, and a broken front door. There was no way I could stay here.

So instead of crying, I did the only thing I could do.

I screamed and punched my fist through the remaining window in my living room. There was no way I was getting my security deposit back anyway, so what was another window broken in aggravation?

A few moments after that, the universe had decided my fate for me.

"Yo!" said the rough voice that drifted into my apartment. Butch hadn't left yet. HQ seemed to be the inevitable choice. And now, I knew exactly who to blame for this mess until I found the real culprit.

Five minutes later I was in Butch's car and we were speeding down the abandoned streets towards HQ. I was gritting my teeth, my arms were crossed tightly and eyebrows were knit closely together, all in an effort not to do something destructive. Butch wasn't too much happier. His hands were tightening so hard around the steering wheel I was afraid he might break it off.

After a whole lot of arguing and threatening, Butch had agreed to let me take what was left of my apartment, shambles really, and temporarily (and boy did he stress that part) move into HQ. There was the whole argument about telling Brick, which he refused to do. He claimed that he wasn't going to be the one Brick blew up at when he discovered a Puff living in HQ, so informing him was up to me. I told him he was a punk ass bitch who was afraid of big red headed prick and I swore I heard the steering wheel creak under pressure. Then there was the whole 'bitch' argument again, and that was settled when I threatened to smash in the hood of his Escalade. He knew when and when not to call my bluff. And finally, there was the compromise.

He broke my lock, so now I called the shots on where I'd stay. He'd just have to get over it.

When we finally made it back to HQ, my mood had yet to improve. Even when Butch had told me that there was, in fact, one spare room, I still found myself desperately trying not to set the whole building on fire in a fit of rage. Unaware of my mood or perhaps indifferent to it, he went on to explain that most of their 'employees' lived at HQ but since one of the guys had recently been extradited, his room had been recently vacated.

I was pretty sure the guy was now either dead or in jail, but I investigated no further. I simply nodded, closing and locking the door behind me. Staying in HQ and working with him or not, we were still enemies and I was sure not to forget that. Even after stating that he had 'something to do' in the camera room since Cindy had 'someone to do' in Brick's room, whatever that meant, I did not trust him to stay far enough away from me.

When I was sure that he hadn't been lying about leaving, hearing his footsteps retreat further and further down the hall, I collapsed on the bed and let everything rush to me at once.

I was furious. No, worse than furious. I was distraught. What the hell was I supposed to do now? Surely I couldn't stay at HQ. Brick would probably flip his shit when he found out I was here; he'd argue that room and board wasn't part of our deal and I couldn't refute that. Things might just spiral out of control. Perhaps I had made the wrong choice coming here. Maybe I should have sucked it up and gone home. Possibly the universe was trying to tell me something by piling on the unbelievable shit that had been happening to me all at once.

But then there was the whole dartboard issue which had just become a thousand times more personal. I had matured enough over the years to know that I couldn't deal with this on my own and I most certainly couldn't drag my sisters into this mess. So instead of flying off the handle like I so badly wanted to, I would have to cooperate for now.

That didn't mean I had to like it. In fact, I hated it. I hated every aspect of it. I hated being dependent. I hated working with the enemy. I hated the Rowdyruffs. I hated the motherfuckers that dared to touch my stuff. I hated how the only thing I could punch right now was the bed as I screamed myself hoarse into the pillow.

Boomer

Boomer was, indeed, a morning person. He liked to get to the food first, use the equipment first, and then there were those moments when he would have the pleasure of waking up his brothers and that was always the perfect opportunity for a little revenge.

And though he was a morning person, he certainly wasn't an early morning person. Four in the morning, to be precise, was not what he considered early. It was hellishly late, bordering the ass crack of dawn. His brothers knew better than to wake him up before he reached his resting peak, otherwise they would have to face the beast that was their disturbed youngest brother.

After experiencing the consequences, Boomer knew that neither Brick nor Butch would dare risk it unless there was an important issue at hand. It was that little fact, and that fact alone, that kept the blond haired young man from kicking his eldest brother's door in after being summoned there over the phone.

"What," Boomer grumbled out, entering Brick's room without the usual spark of excitement in his voice. He let his mess of blond hair fall over his sleep encrusted eyes and crossed his arms over his bare chest.

"New job," Brick said simply. He sat at the edge of his bed, his eyes glued to his laptop on his lap. At just a glance, Boomer could tell he hadn't slept in over twenty four hours.

"What the hell, man?" he said eyeing him warily. "You couldn't wait two more hours to tell me about a new assignment?"

"This one's different. Long term and extremely important so I need you to not screw it up."

Boomer's ears picked up on the rare sound of urgency in Brick's voice. Usually an important assignment for Boomer would be 'silencing' someone who caught on to their little business. He'd gotten so good at it that he didn't even consider it a big deal any more. But long term?

"Well… what is it?" he asked, interest fully piqued.

Brick pointed to the folder sitting on his side table. Boomer took that as his cue to investigate on his own. He walked over to the table and snatched the folder and flopped down on Brick's bed. He expected to find the usual profile of a potential traitor he had to trek down and silence before the end of the day. Instead he found registration forms.

"What's all this?" Boomer asked. He leafed through the pages, thinking that perhaps the new foe would be discovered somewhere amongst them. "What the hell am I supposed to do with registration forms?"

Brick didn't respond for a long time. He was too busy clicking away on his laptop to even acknowledge Boomer's confusion. Still Boomer waited patiently for an explanation, sure than one would come.

With a final click and an exhale, Brick finally turned to face his brother, his dark circles a little less prominent without the light of his laptop illuminating them, but still sinister.

"Your first class begins at nine."

Boomer shook his head. His ears must have been still faulty from his early wake up call. "Wait, what? Class? What class?"

"Psychology 101. It starts at nine at Townsville University. Cindy says to be admitted you have to get there early and shit so do that," said Brick. Boomer gave a sound somewhere between shock and contempt, and flung the folder, the papers flying all around the room.

"No. HELL NO! You are not sending me to schoo- no – COLLEGE. And in Townsville of all places? For what? Are you out of your mind!?"

Brick gave an agitated sigh, deciding to wait out the expected refusal from his younger brother before offering an explanation. Once the last paper settled on the floor and Boomer leaned in, wild, dark blue eyes demanding his rebuttal, Brick finally spoke up.

"There's an… issue with the Garrets's account."

"The Garrets?" Boomer said, easing back. If it truly was something related to work and not just another shot at his intelligence, then he could at least afford to hear Brick out. "Aren't they moving to Townsville?"

"Precisely the issue. They're moving to Townsville with something they shouldn't have." Brick got up and kicked through the papers scattered across his bedroom floor until he found the one he needed. He picked it up and held it out to Boomer who took a long measured look at it.

Finally, his observation came to, "…It's a book," to which Brick shot out his hand and smacked his younger brother on his head. Hard.

"Of course it's a book you idiot," he said through gritted teeth. "But do you recognize anything about it? Specifically about the cover?"

At a closer glance, Boomer recognized the book as one that he had tagged while he was taking inventory of the Garrets's valuables. He noted that it was full of formulas and figured Brick would care for it. But until Brick drew his attention to it, he had never noticed the formula scratched lightly onto the book's cover. If Brick was asking him if it looked familiar, it must have been important. So Boomer narrowed his eyes and tried his best to decipher the lines, curves, and symbols that shaped unfamiliar language of chemistry.

Alas, none of it meant anything to him, so he shook his head in defeat.

Brick groaned. "It's the formula for Antidote X."

Boomer inhaled sharply. It was well known between him and his brothers that the formula for Antidote X was known by only a handful of people; Professor Utonium, Mojo Jojo, the devil Himself, and Brick were among that very small handful. Mr. Garrets, whoever he may be or was aiming to become, could cause utter chaos if he let the book fall into the wrong hands. But one thing still remained a bit unclear to Boomer.

"I know this is bad and all," he said, looking from the picture to Brick, opting to state his confusion and risk being hit. "And I know that obviously, we've got to get the book back… but what's this got to do with me going to Townville University?"

Brick began to pace, a habit he had picked up when they were young and something he would always do when something was irritating him. "Remember that time we stole from their chemistry labs when we were in Junior High?" he asked. Boomer nodded and felt a grin tug at his lips. Good times. "Well apparently they've opted to install a state of the art security system since then, and now it's nearly impossible to get on the school grounds without an accredited student I.D, much less the goddamned chemistry lab. And of course, that's most likely where this Garrets guy will stash it being that his entire relocation revolves around his new position as the head chemistry professor."

"Can't we just bust in, grab the book, and bust out?" Boomer asked.

"If I didn't care for the so called law enforcement on my ass while I'm at the height of building my empire, I would say that would be my number one plan," Brick replied, running his fingers roughly through his hair.

Boomer was following everything Brick had said more closely than usual. Not only did he sense and want to avoid one of his brother's notorious irritable outbursts, but he also wanted to make sure that everything he was going to set out to do was absolutely necessary before he took on the operation. It was from the small details of the plan that he deciphered one very important fact.

"So… once I get the book, I can leave, right? As in drop out?"

There was a pleading in his voice that Brick couldn't help but groan at.

"It's not like learning a couple of things for a day would hurt you, Boomer… but yeah. You can drop out after you get the damn book."

"Sweet!" Boomer exclaimed, a new found vigor in his tone. He hopped from Brick's lavishly decorated bed and stretched out. "This'll be a piece of cake. I'll have that book back by the time I get back."

Brick passed a hand over his face, and shrugged. "Sure. That'd be great if it could be that easy. Hell, if it's that easy, I might just give you an extra share in your next pay. Just try not to draw attention to yourself or your intentions. The faster you get in there and out, the better."

Boomer nodded and folded his hands behind his head with a confident smirk. He'd get props for pulling off such a risky heist and he might even get a few numbers from hot girls while he was at it. Hell, who was he kidding? He'd definitely get his fair share of numbers from hot girls. What he initially thought would be the mission from hell would be the best mission he'd received in a while. 'Bring it o–

"Oh and Boomer," Brick called out just as Boomer was about to close the door behind him. Boomer glanced behind him raised an eyebrow.

"Do me a favor and avoid the fucking Powerpuff girls. They're that last people I need on my trail."

Boomer's grin fell. He'd forgotten about them.

Seems like things are finally starting to pick up for our unlikely crew. What I can promise you is that next chapter will have some interactions you guys might've been hoping for~ Spare thoughts, opinions, and/or ratings? Please review if you like. I hope I'm keeping you entertained yet intrigued!