~Feels like it's been a while—I would be ripping this out faster(been swamped with school. It's finally spring break though! Thanks for all the sweet reviews, and favs! Now on with the plot.

A crease of light cast across Buttercups face, she squinted her eyes but couldn't see past it. Rolling over she buried her face in a pillow, and pulled the blankets over her (head just for good measure).

"Go away" She rasped, it felt like years since she had last used her voice.

"Buttercup, it's been a week, what do you think you're doing? You've hardly been out of bed, let alone touched your homework" Blossoms voice was exasperated in a way she had come to master over the past few years, "Don't you have any idea what this will do to your accumulative GPA?"

"Who cares"

"who cares?"she echoed, "What. Is. Wrong. With. You?" Blossom spoke each word as if it was an independent sentence.

Buttercup refused to answer; Blossom knew very well what was wrong with her. She waited a minute staring at the lump in the bed that her sister had become before turning swiftly to stomp down the stairs screaming for the Professor. Why can't they just leave me alone, if I wanted to talk about it I'd talk about it.

Before Buttercup could roll over again footsteps were pounding up the stairs. The door flew open with a bang as the lights flicked on instantly blinding her. The Professor was talking a mile a minute but she just ignored him, or she did until he began to gather up the bed-spread. With her still in it. Wrapping her up like a burrito he lifted her out of the bed bridal style. Buttercup struggled and kicked and flailed, she didn't want to hurt him though. The whole time he just kept talking. Blabber, blabber, blabber.

"Now Buttercup I don't want to resort to force but it seems we don't have much of a choice. You are getting out of bed and we are taking you to see the doctor"

"What? I don't need a doctor" Buttercup struggled fiercely against the confines of her comforter.

"Well not a doctor exactly"

"A shrink!" Buttercup shrieked "you can't make me! I aint going"

"Buttercup, proper grammar" Blossom gasped.

Then they were outside, in the car, Blossom had a firm hold on her legs just in case she made a desperate attempt for freedom. All the fight had gone out of her though; she succumbed to her fate.

Butch glanced around the lunch room nervously; she hadn't been in school all week. Was this supposed to be good? Was this supposed to be bad? Why did he even care? Butch jumped about ten feet when his brother came up and slapped in hard on the back.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you was hiding something" Brick said.

"Who me? Hide someone, er, something—why would I be hiding anything?" Butch blurted nervously, "I got, I got nothing to hide"

Brick squinted at him, "My money, you been hiding my money, remember? You owe me?"

Butch let out a laugh that sounded more like a yelp, "Oh, yeah, yeah, I got it right here."

"What's up with you, you been all jumpy—well you're always jumpy but this is just…" his voice trailed off, Butch could practically see the gears in his brain working. "Cut sixth period, Boomer's picking up paint, maybe some good old vandalism will knock some sense in to you"

Brick began to walk away, gears still turning; Butch shouted after him, "Brick, you're money?" He held out the folded ten—almost as a peace offering.

Brick glanced over his shoulder, "Keep it." And he was gone.

"So?" Buttercup slumped down in her chair, arms crossed, "What else is there to say? You already know everything about me, how about we make both our jobs easier and you let me leave?" She had never felt more humiliated in her life, there she sat in her green polka-dot pajamas, hair sticking flat to her head (thanks to a week of no shampoo), her face was all puffy and blotchy as if she had some infectious disease, and they expected her to just pretend everything was all hunky-dory. And pour her heart out to this lady, who she had just met, like everything was normal? Fat chance. She didn't even have on a bra, how was she supposed to talk to anyone without a bra? Humiliating.

Just-call-me-Jo looked over her glasses quizzically at Buttercup, what kind of shrink goes by Jo? But that's how she introduced herself—just call me Jo, like maybe it was supposed to make everything seem less weird. Well, it wasn't working.

"You say that I already know all about you, and it's hard not to in a city like this, but that's the super-hero we're talking about. What I want to know about is Buttercup—minus the crime fighting."

Stating that Buttercup was flabbergasted would be an understatement. No one had ever wanted to know about the real her—even if this lady was getting paid, it might be her only chance.

"Where do I start?" She breathed.

"Where ever you want." Jo smiled and crossed her legs, "How about the beginning?"

"Well, uh, the very beginning," She paused, "I guess it all started with a lonely guy—sugar, spice, and everything nice."

Then she smiled, something it felt she had not done in years.

~Hope you like, please R&R it's what keeps me going! Thanks for reading! –Phlinn