I do not own the Powerpuff Girls

Chapter 4

A Gold Mine

Mary the secretary thumbed through some index cards as Stone waited anxiously. Being called to Mr. Lombardi's office made him feel like he were 12 years old waiting in the Principal's office.

Nico Lombardi had run Townsville's #2 paper for 10 years. Lombardi was 52 years old and had begun his career as a sports writer out of New York. He was always looking to make a buck, and would push whatever trash could sell papers.

"Mister Lombardi will see you now."

"Thanks, Mary," Martin nodded as he went to the door.

Lombardi sat scanning a series of photographs, no doubt for the next day's headline. Martin could vaguely make out the appearance of billionaire heiress/model Princess Morbucks.

"You asked for me, sir?"

"Yes, come on in Mr. Stone." Lombardi didn't even bother looking up. Nico Lombardi had that kind of detachment from his employees than only a multi-millionaire could have.

Martin didn't take a seat, but he did move close to the editor's desk. Chairs were for business deals, and Martin wasn't here to negotiate plans for expanding the Newspaper's distribution.

"How was she?" Lombardi asked, still not looking away from the pictures.

"Who?"

"You know who: The Powergirl."

"Buttrcup?"

"Right on the money. Did you get along with her?"

"She seemed to tolerate me." Martin wasn't sure how to describe how the interview had gone. Buttercup seemed to have buried her emotions under years of personal hardship and part-celebrity. She could have enjoyed their meeting or desired to eviscerate him with a spoon and he'd have not been able to tell the difference.

"Great. Do you have any contact with the blonde one?"

"No. Bubbles refuses to give interviews. She lives in the middle of nowhere without phone or computer." Martin had previously made an attempt to interview all three Powerpuff Girls, but had only managed to get Blossom. Eventually he got Buttercup, but Bubbles remained a mystery.

"Gone off the wire, eh? How about you getting in touch with Buttercup again to go more in-depth? Your story is a nice brisk read, but hardly contains the juicy, scandalous insights that would sell."

"Sir, begging your pardon, my story was set to print tomorrow."

"Not anymore." Lombardi

"What?!" Martin tried to keep his anger in check. Couldn't seem weak before the boss. "Begging your pardon, but my story was approved for print."

"Haven't you heard? Princess Morbucks has run off on a pleasure trip with her father's money. That's what all the news is on right now." Lombardi held up a picture of Princess in a gold dress which accentuated the cover girl's curves. "We got to cover the news people read about. Golden girl here sells as fast as we can print."

"My piece-"

"Would have been swept aside in the rush. So here's your new option: expand the interview, get into this girl's deepest, darkest secrets, and then when it does print we'll make sure your name appears right on the front cover!"

Martin was flustered. He didn't like it when plans changed at the last second.

"That is...a great offer," he finally managed to say.

"Of course it is." Lombardi leaned back to look at Martin. His eyes resembled those of an eagle with their intensity. "You know why Princess sells papers?"

"Because she's a supermodel who carries oodles of cash?" Martin replied somewhat sarcastically. Lombardi only shook his head and laughed.

"No, Martin. Aside from the obvious eye candy, Miss Morbucks represents what, to most people, is unattainable. She does whatever she wants and to hell with the consequences. People are fascinated by this. To Martin's surprise Lombardi stood up around the desk to stand beside him. "The same was true with Buttercup. She might be old news, but there is plenty left to mine. I don't want to publish until we've cleared her out."

Martin only nodded.

Mr. Lombardi laughed a deep, throaty laugh and slapped Martin on the shoulder. "You my boy have hit a Goddamn goldmine for our paper. Make it count!"

Returning to his desk Martin wasn't sure whether to be excited or nervous. This could be the break-out story of his career, but on the other hand it depended entirely on Buttercup's willingness to comply. Martin never liked situations where he didn't have full control.

"How did it go?" Elmer Sglue asked from the desk adjacent to Martin's. Elmer was wearing large round glasses and a green sweater vest. He looked pretty good for someone who'd undergone a freak mutation as a child. He now worked as the paper's literary critique.

"You clearing out your desk today or tomorrow?" That last part was a joke. Elmer knew how insecure Martin was about the stability of his career.

"He wants me to conduct an even longer interview with Buttercup." Martin began thumbing through his address book to find Buttercup's number.

"Well, that's good. Buttercup should be a solid seller. After all, everyone loves reading about the bad boy- err, bad girl."

"Yeah, that sums up what Big L told me." Martin pulled out a card with the number and pulled the landline phone closer.

"I'm just saying, you got a book on your hand." Elmer continued, walking over to Martin's desk. "Buttercup was a notorious rebel. Blossom was very public and continues to be a public persona giving interviews anytime a microphone positions itself near her lips. She's straight laced without anything scandalous. Buttercup on the other hand..."

"Elmer didn't they help you back in the day?"

Elmer shrugged. "Yeah, so? I thanked them back in the day.

"You might show a bit of respect towards them."

"I appreciate all they did. I appreciate being a flesh and bone human! Now I've got to look to the future and a book on Buttercup's life could be huge! Surely Mr. L would be in support of that. I'm just speaking as a critic. I'd rather read the biography of Buttercup than Blossom or Bubbles. Her story is the one people want to know. Not the politician of Blossom, or the tree hugger of Bubbles. They want the rebel without a cause."

Elmer had a valid point. A book exposing details on Buttercup's digressions would doubtless be a big seller. If he got another interview it would need to be in-depth. He'd been nervous the first time, and hadn't dug deep. His fear of Buttercup's celebrity had held him back from his duty

"I'll keep that in mind." Martin said.

Martin dialed the number and waited. She'd been hard to get the first time. Taken eight calls after discovering her number. Despite continuing to live in the city Buttercup was a ghost.

That's why it came as a surprise when the phone only rang three times before receiving an answer.

"Hello."

"Buttercup?"

"You're speaking to her."

Still surprised that she answered so suddenly Martin had a mental scramble to remember what he was going to say.

"This is Martin Stone."

"Marty, nice to hear back from you. Your story run? I don't read the papers these days."

"No. It hasn't run yet."

"...Figures. I'm yesterday's news."

"No! No, Buttercup it's not that. The editor really loves you, but he wants a longer piece. I needed to know if you'd be willing to have another interview session."

"Let me think...Yeah, I'm free whenever."

"How does tomorrow at noon sound? I'll treat you to lunch."

"No need for lunch. Just come to my place again. I'll see you then."

A loud beep followed the statement. She'd hung up. Martin grasped for his weekly planner.

"And?" Elmer inquired.

"She's in."

Elmer clasped Martin's shoulder. "New York Times bestsellers list, baby!"

Buttercup knew it wasn't very polite to have hung up on the reporter. He seemed to be a nice guy. She hadn't meant to offend him, but she preferred to be blunt and cut the crap. None of that etiquette bullshit Blossom always advocated. That social dogma shit would only dull one's individuality ...of course, keeping to a one bedroom apartment for the better half of the decade also didn't do much.

"Go ahead. Make my day."

Buttercup was only passively watching the action movie on the television as she polished her stiletto. The blade had an ivory handle, was spring loaded, and illegal in the city of Townsville. She'd just hung up on the young reporter. Was it wise to accept a second interview? Probably not. But she had nothing to lose. Every day for the past four years she'd done nothing with her life but waste away.

Gunshots sounded and a spectacle of violence broke across the screen as the hardened police detective took down the goons. Buttercup couldn't help but fantasize being in the officer's place. To protect and serve once more; to be praised as a hero.

Looking up she saw the framed photograph of her posing in a green swimsuit. It was taken five years ago. The headline read "Townsville's Green Fury deals with the Summer Heat!"

Green Fury they called me! What were some of the names folk used to call her? Big Green. Green Machine. Jolly Green Bitch...all kinds of things beginning with the word green. And she'd always enjoyed them. Buttercup wasn't afraid to deny that she loved attention. Every time one of those nicknames popped up it meant someone was talking about her; making her more than a girl. It transformed her into a celebrity; an icon; A warrior who didn't give a damn what others thought of her...Would she ever hear those terms again?

I'll remind this town, Buttercup vowed. These interviews would rekindle the spark that had made her great. Her name would be in the spotlight and no one would ever forget the rude and rough girl who had defended the city into early adulthood.

Buttercup smiled and folded the knife. In the mean time she'd have some fun with this reporter.

-

Author's Note: I'm back and I'm going to try updating this semi-regularly. Lots of things happened in my life and I've only just now gotten back into writing. I still have a big story in mind for his fic and want to see it continued. Thank you everyone who has reviewed, fav'd and watched this fic!