There was something about his plead that Dexter could sympathize with for a second. He understood just how aggressive Buttercup could be, and he empathized with his shape-shifting friend. "Go over this again, Benjamin."

Ben groaned. "Buttercup walked in my room, said that I'm going out with Bubbles and that I'd better find someone to take Blossom out, too, and that if I didn't, she'd pound my face in, because they really needed to get out and off the battlefield," he relayed.

Dexter crossed his arms. "And you expect me to…?"

"Um…could you go out with Blossom?" Ben suggested. Dexter arched an eyebrow.

"What will I get out of it?" he immediately countered.

Ben bit his lip. "You could, uh, get to go out on your first date?"

"I'm eleven. That doesn't count for anything."

"Get to know Blossom better?"

Dexter considered this. Blossom was extremely intellectual, and always brought new ideas to the table at every meeting. She even stumped Nigel and Mandy at times. "Ask Blossom if she's okay going with me, and if she is, I'll go. I don't want to be there if she doesn't want me there," Dexter concluded. "Don't push her."

Ben jumped up and smiled. "Thanks, Dex! I owe you one!"

"Yes, you do."

Blossom ended up being fine with it, and the two left Bubbles and Ben alone to get to know each other better; the blonde and the brunette were hitting it off amazingly fast, and the redheads felt out of place. Dexter being only eleven and Blossom fifteen, the two looked odd walking together late at night in the streets basking the soft orange glow of lanterns and streetlights. Blossom was at least a head or two taller than Dexter, but the two were at ease.

"So, what do you think of the war so far?" Dexter asked.

"Let's not talk about that tonight," Blossom protested. "Let's be kids for once."

Dexter mulled this over and eventually nodded. "Sounds nice. We could try."

They were quiet before he spoke up again. "What do we talk about?"

Blossom pondered. "Well…there are always the genres we like. Hobbies. Stuff like that." Dexter kept a steady gaze on her. "I'll start. What do you like to do in your free time?"

"I like to play the piano, I suppose."

"Really? Classical?"

"Of course. I don't think piano should be used for much more. Classical suits it."

"I agree."

"What about you?"

"I like to play tag with my sisters, read fictional stories, stare at sunsets, and write in my diary," Blossom answered proudly. To Dexter's confused glance she elaborated, "I figure my writing is going to be one of the only documents about personal experiences from my sisters. Bubbles only thought about animals, her love life, and draws in hers, and Buttercup wouldn't be found dead touching a diary."

"Never have I heard a more logical use for a diary," Dexter admitted. "But you say 'Bubbles only thought'? Does that mean you've read her diary?"

Blossom flushed and turned away. "No," she defended. "I merely peeked in it to see what mission she was going on so I could know where she was supposed to be. My hands slipped…a lot."

Dexter smirked. "Really?"

"Yes. Every other page."

"Well, Ms. Blossom, it's getting late, and I suggest we get back to the base," Dexter changed the subject. Blossom exhaled gratefully and the two hurried off.

Buttercup asked Blossom if she had a nice time later that evening.

"It was the first time in a long time I blushed," Blossom stated plainly. Buttercup's eyebrows furrowed and she sat down, wondering what Dexter could have done.