Prophecy

by Madame Fist

In their final year of high school, Team X will face unavoidable highs and lows - the woes of being super powered, and teenage. They'll share firsts, lasts, and will have to navigate their way through deception, manipulation and inevitably heartbreak. Him is still an underlying threat in their lives, as are the mysterious prophecies he lives by.. Sequel to Choices. PPG/RRB

6. A promise is a promise

This chapter is like 2 months too late - I don't even have a decent excuse either, things just got busy & writers block/general burnout got me. BUT here's chapter 6 - enjoy!

---

It was just over two weeks since Esmé had strutted into the Utonium household; and during that time, herself and Professor Utonium had been inseparable.

Quite literally, they had not left each other's side.

If they weren't at Utonium Laboratories together, they were at the Utonium residence together. She constantly stayed the night - and if she wasn't sleeping over at theirs he was over at her place. Since they'd met, they were joined at the hip.

And Blossom was having a hard time putting her finger on how she felt about it.

Because the longer she was around Esmé, the more she began to get used to her presence. Her sister's seemed okay with her for the most part, too. And the Professor appeared the happiest he'd been in a long time.

Although this was something else she couldn't put her finger on. Was he happier? Or was he just different?

He'd changed his views on things he'd had a staunch opinion on before. Like the boys, for one thing. His usual strict 'father of daughters' conduct had seemingly gone out the window. Before Esmé, he'd remind the boys about leaving doors open, or not sharing beds on every possible occasion - he was damn near always breathing down their necks about things like that. Now, he was completely relaxed about their presence. It was odd.

He was more relaxed in general; his usual reserved demeanour had gone - he'd blush about holding Vanessa's hand in front of them, but openly sucked Esmé's face off around them.

It was a bit much. And it was all a bit odd.

And what was even odder was how it all seemed less noticeable when they were around them both. When she was in the presence of her father and Esmé, she found it easier to brush all these things aside. Esmé was nice. She seemed to make the Professor very happy.

But then; when she was at school, or at the boys' apartment, her irritation for her grew. As did her frustrations, her doubt, and her urge to talk to her father about it. To question what had happened - and if Vanessa was okay. But she couldn't seem to get him alone.

Maybe she was overthinking. Bubbles and Buttercup seemed to be getting used to her, though they too did agree something was amiss. Boomer and Butch probably liked her a bit too much at times. Brick seemed indifferent to her; but that wasn't out of the ordinary. He was indifferent to most people.

She just couldn't quite get her number.

Blossom looked up from her World History essay; Esmé was watching her from across the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee.

Her expression was contemplative; maybe even a little calculating. Blossom sent an even look back. After a couple of seconds, Esmé smiled. It took Blossom just as long to smile back, before glancing back down at her work.

No, she couldn't figure out what this woman was all about.

---

"Whaddup Rowdyruffs."

Butch, Brick and Boomer turned in the direction of the greeting; Kim and Mike were walking over to them as they waited outside the main entrance of Townsville High.

"Hey." Boomer replied as they huddled closer to them; it was lightly raining and Mike had an umbrella. "Just waiting for the girls. The Professor is giving them a ride this morning."

"Ohh, does this mean we'll get to see his new beau?" Kim asked eagerly. "Butch said she's drop dead gorgeous."

Brick cranked a brow at his brother, who looked defensive. "Tell me I'm wrong?"

"I guess you will get to see her if she's with him." Boomer answered, both of them ignoring Butch.

"She's always with him." Brick said, spying the Professor's station wagon pulling into the car lot.

"Yo you're right. I don't think I've seen him not with her since her grand entrance a couple weeks ago." Boomer murmured, brow furrowed.

"She's keen then, huh?" Mike queried.

"She's something all right." Brick muttered, frowning - it didn't sound like it was a compliment.

"I don't feel like I have to clench my butt from nerves so much when I'm around the Professor since he got with her, so she's had some benefits." Boomer added, making all but Brick chuckle.

"Have there been any negatives?" Mike pressed, detecting some negativity from Brick that he wasn't sure if it was directly related to Esmé or if it was just Brick being Brick. It could have been either/or really.

"There's something off about her." Brick replied. "I can't put my finger on it."

Bubbles, Blossom and Buttercup got out of the car, waving goodbye to their Dad. As expected, Esmé was in the front seat, waving them off, and looking as glamorous as she always seemed to.

"Whoa." Kim breathed.

"Yeah, whoa - she is gorgeous." Mike agreed. "The Professor sure does pick 'em."

"Boomie!" Bubbles cried as they approached, bounding into his arms and throwing her own around his neck, kissing him deeply.

Blossom was lingering behind a little, taking a phone call on her hotline device.

"Sup." Buttercup greeted Butch, nudging into his side. He leant down to plant a kiss on her lips.

"Hey - we were just discussing the gorgeous brunette in your Dad's car, but then she got out and now she's standing right in front of me." Butch oozed, his hand sliding around her waist and pulling her against him.

"Ha ha. I'm sure you were really drooling over Esmé." She smirked as his hand found it's way onto her behind.

"I was drooling over Esmé. She's a stone cold fox. And I only saw her upper half." Kim said.

"I wasn't drooling over Esmé. If I was, I'd have made a comment about her lower half - but I didn't." Butch added, holding his hand up to give 'scouts honour'. She rolled her eyes in response; he was undeterred. "I don't need to drool over her, not when all this is mine." Both his hands found their way onto the green puff's bottom and he gave it a squeeze.

"You think you own my ass?" She asked him in a playful tone.

"Obviously. But it's okay, you own mine too. Equality." He grinned.

"You're such a dweeb." She laughed, kissing him.

Having just finished her call, Blossom finally joined the group as they were making their way inside the school and out of the rain, which was beginning to come down a little heavier now. "Hi. Sorry, Mayor Bellum rang - nothing majorly important. Just checking in - and chasing up the report from that robbery at the 10th Street Mini Malphs. I swear I gave it to her. You okay?"

"Oh right. Yeah, not bad.. You okay?" She nodded that she was; he carried on speaking. "I see the Professor and Esmé are still inseparable?"

She took a moment to reply, he noticed, as she linked her hand through his and they made their way towards their home classroom. "Yeah, I guess so. They're pretty cute though, right?"

"They're cute now?" He asked, slightly confused.

"Yeah. You know what it's like, right at the beginning - when you're all, living in each other's pockets? I guess they're still at that stage. He started telling her about how he loved to drop us in to school, and how now we're older he never really gets to do it, and it's our last year now and all - so she suggested he drop us in today. Cute." The pink puff explained. Brick felt even more befuddled. She'd been moaning about Esmé's presence a day or two before.

"Seems pretty intense. I mean, have they even spent any time apart since they met?" He asked her, and she took a minute to consider it.

"I'm not sure. Not everyone hates being around other people you know. Some people live happily in someone else's pocket." Blossom said, detecting his negative tone.

"Hating being around other people and having a bit of space are two different things. I mean, okay, I'm not the most social of beings but I like being around you. However, we aren't constantly in each other's faces. There's such a thing as 'me time', right?"

"You wouldn't live in my pocket if you could?" She asked, fluttering her lashes friskily.

He smirked at her. "Would you want me in your pocket all the time?"

"Maybe, you're pretty nice to look at and all." She shrugged, and he smiled as she leant against his chest, angling her head so she could still see him.

"Seriously though, don't you think it's all a little weird?" Brick continued, watching her playful expression fall as she furrowed her brow.

"The Professor seems happy enough. And really, she's quite nice. You should give her a chance."

The bell went, and Miss Hearn appeared to unlock their classroom door and usher them all inside. Once they all filed in, she settled the class and took roll call. Afterwards, she read off the few announcements she had and sent everyone off to their first period of the day.

Their trigonometry teacher was running a little behind; Blossom was quite thankful for that though, as she was rifling through her backpack trying to locate her workbook. She sighed irritably. "I must have left it at home. That's stupid Esmé's fault for hurrying us all along and meddling with our routine this morning. I never forget my workbooks and textbooks - she decides we have to all drive in as a 'family' this morning and now I'm leaving stuff behind. Where does she get off calling us her 'family' anyway? She's been with the Professor for five minutes!" Blossom complained as she shoved her bag back on the back of her seat. "She hardly knows him!"

Brick was thoroughly confused. "Hang on, you were just singing her praises like 20 minutes ago."

"No I wasn't - I can't stand her. She's just totally invading our space too - I mean you'd think someone had sewed them together by the hip, they are always together. More than Bubbles and Boomer are together. It's weird." Blossom grumbled, Brick's brow rose incredulously.

"I totally agree, but - I was literally just saying this this morning. You said it was cute how inseparable they were!"

Blossom paused, looking puzzled. She had said that. But she didn't think that. Did she?

"I didn't, I don't - well, I don't think they're cute. I think it's all really weird and just, I don't know, off… I can't put my finger on it." Blossom murmured. "Or am I just being overprotective? Like he is with us…"

"No, I don't think you're being overprotective, I think there's something majorly shady about her." Brick replied bluntly.

---

"Esmé?" The Professor called from his office, rubbing at his chin as he surveyed his laptop.

A clip clop noise of her heels on the hard kitchen floor rang out, until she appeared before him, holding out two cups of coffee. "Yes dear?" She asked, placing a coffee cup down on his desk.

"Oh, thank you. What was it you wanted to talk to me about earlier today? Something about blood samples?" The Professor asked, his eyes still glued to his laptop screen. "I recall you mentioning something, I think I was a little distracted when you said."

"Oh, sweetheart don't worry - you were concentrating on important work, it's not an issue. I was just asking if you had any of your girls' blood stored anywhere? Kind of an odd request, I know, but you know what a haematology nerd I am, and it would aid me in my current research project." Esmé explained, perching on the corner of his desk, her dress riding up a little as she did so, revealing a large portion of her thigh.

He drew his eyes away from his screen, and they scanned from her legs, to her chest, then to her plump, red lips as she blew on her coffee. A dreamy smile appeared on his face. "Ahh yes, my clever lady and her Antidote X blocker project."

"Yes." She smiled sweetly. "Being able to put some of their blood in a slide would be so helpful."

"Of course, that makes sense. As it happens, I do have some blood bags stored away in the lab here for emergency incidents. You know, excessive blood loss, things like that. I can grab you a little vial?" He offered.

"You're the best." She oozed, leaning forward to place her lips on his. "I think we should have an early night tonight, don't you? You seem exhausted."

"Yes, that's a good idea." He agreed, approaching the door to his lab and entering the code. "I'm lucky you're here to look after me, you know."

"Oh I know." She called after him as he made his way down the stairs to the basement lab.

Once he was out of sight, she hopped up, placing her cup down on the opposite side of his desk. Her coat was hanging up on his coat rack in the corner of the room. She tiptoed over, and grabbed an orange pill pot from the inside pocket. As quickly as she could, she poured a small white pill into her hand, before dropping it into the Professor's coffee. Promptly, she pocketed the pills once more and waited for the Professor to return from his lab with the samples she'd asked for.

When he reached his office once more, three vials in a sealed clear bag in his hand, she was brandishing his coffee cup to him, and they did a quick swap. "Just the girls' samples there. Doesn't feel right to give you the boys' without their permission. But the girls won't mind when it's for our research."

"Of course, that's fine. I'll put them in my purse for safe keeping. Thank you John, that will help me so much. Imagine being able to send them out to fight crime knowing no one can use Antidote X against them? They'll be so much safer." She said as he took a couple of large gulps of his coffee and nodded.

"Esmé if you could create a pill that rejected Antidote X - it'd change things dramatically for them all. They would be exponentially safer."

"And you'd worry exponentially less." She said affectionately, and he smiled warmly back, before letting out a long yawn.

"Oh, you're right you know, I do need an early night tonight." John said as she began to guide him out of his office.

"Esmé knows best." She chorused, and he chuckled.

---

It was just past 10pm. Esmé cranked her eyes open, slowly turning towards the Professor, who lay in his bed beside her, fast asleep. She took a hold of his hand, dropping it down onto the bed. It was limp; he was sound asleep. Dead to the world, in fact. The pills had done their job.

Just as she needed them to. With a determined sigh, she got to her feet, reaching for her silky robe and pulling it around herself. Having always had an affinity for lace and lingerie, she slept in nothing but lacy negligees - the more see through or skimpy the better in her mind. Knowing the Professor's three teenage girls were likely still up, she supposed she better cover up a little at least.

Quietly she slipped out of the room, allowing the Professor's door to click shut behind her. Once in the hallway, she turned towards the girls' bedroom.

It was just pushed to, not properly shut. As silently as she could, she peered inside. Blossom was in bed, asleep it appeared. Bubbles' bed was made and empty; she was staying over at the boys' place.

Which meant Buttercup was the only one she wasn't sure where she was. She got her answer as she crept down the stairs. Dim light was coming from the living room, as well as the sound of the TV; she must have been in there.

Not that it mattered to her - just as long as she could get down to the lab without her noticing, anyway.

Much to her relief, Esmé managed to get into the Professor's office and then down into the lab too without the green puff hearing her. Or maybe she did hear her, but didn't pry. Either way, it didn't matter; if she had pried, she'd have been able to talk her way out of it; just like she could most things. She could deal with her easily in the moment; it was later things may get problematic…

In the moment, she could tell her that she was popping down to the lab to continue on with some of her research as she was struggling to sleep - and she could make sure the brunette believed her. But later, once Buttercup's mind had cleared, she'd remember her sneaking down to the laboratory and may wonder why. And that was when her tracks became difficult to cover. She always had to be several steps ahead of her victims.

At least she'd made it inside now without anyone seeing her. After locking the sealed door to the lab shut behind her, Esmé turned to the Professor's main workstation and placed her purse down on it; she'd grabbed it from the coat rack on her way through.

The scientist grabbed the few items she would need, including the Professor's microscope, some slides, pipettes, the sealed bag containing the Powerpuff girls' blood samples, and an unusual looking pendant she'd retrieved from her bag. She also donned protective goggles, a lab coat, gloves, and a face mask.

Esmé prepped the samples on the slides, being sure to separate Blossom's from her sisters - and to utilise extreme caution when working with it.

She took a look at Blossom's slide first. Yes; it looked just as she'd predicted it would - what stared back at her through the lens was almost blinding. Then she took Bubbles', then slid Buttercup's underneath the microscope afterwards.

Blossom's looked marginally different to her two sisters', but she could see exactly what she was looking out for in Buttercup and Bubbles' samples. It wasn't as prominent, but it was certainly there. Which meant His predictions were looking to be correct. Not that she ever had any doubt about His visions.

There was another quick test she could perform to further confirm what they already suspected.

She took the necklace, holding it by the long silver chain in gloved hands, laying it down on the work surface so the deep red stone pendant was facing upwards.

Using a pipette, she took Buttercup's blood sample first, dropping a drop of it onto the fire opal pendant. It hissed immediately, white smoke beginning to emit from it. After a few seconds, it calmed down. She fanned any excess smoke away, being sure to not inhale it, regardless of the mask, then proceeded to try Bubbles' sample next. She was met with the same response: hissing, bubbling, white smoke, then eventually nothing.

She grimaced as she took the vial containing Blossom's blood, exhaling as she dropped just one drop onto the pendant. The moment it did, the pendant began to shake, hissing loudly and leaking bright white smoke violently. She fanned it away rapidly, coughing as she tried in vain not to inhale it. She took a step away, shielding her face as she did.

Once it simmered down and the smoke began to clear, she approached the workstation once more; there was a hole going directly through the stone pendant.

Esmé sneered. "Filthy Angels."

Very gingerly, she took Blossom's blood sample and poured it away, re-bagging Bubbles' and Buttercups and placing it away in her purse for safe keeping, along with the now damaged stone.

---

As Esmé clicked the door to the Professor's office shut behind her, she froze, hearing a noise coming from the kitchen. There was light pouring into the dark hallway from that direction; someone was definitely in there. The TV was still on in the living room too.

She spied a sheepish looking Butch by the kitchen door frame, and jumped; she hadn't expected someone to be standing right there. In fact, she'd just been hoping she could get back up to the Professor's bedroom without anyone seeing her.

But now Butch Jojo was standing by the doorway looking slightly stricken. A few seconds staring into his eyes told her all she needed to know: he'd been worried it was the Professor and it was almost Buttercup's curfew. And even though Buttercup was indeed at home, he was unsure that the Professor would appreciate him being over still so late on a school night. She could sense his relief that it was her, and not the Professor; but he was still a little on edge.

"Oh, Butch - you startled me! Is everything all right?" She asked, approaching him.

"Uhh yeah. I was just grabbing a drink quickly - before I head home. I know it's late, and a school night soo -" He began to explain, and she smiled at him.

"It is late, so you may as well stay." She said, cocking her head to the side. "Why don't you take the spare room?"

"Oh - uhh, I was just going to head home. I don't live far -"

"Nonsense. You may as well stay. In fact, I insist." She told him smoothly.

"Okay, I guess I can crash here and head home to change and shower and stuff before school in the morning -"

Her hand on his chest stopped him mid sentence. "You can shower here too. In fact, I'd quite like that. You, wandering around in just a towel." Her smile grew wicked; she stroked his chest slowly.

His brow furrowed, and his hand rose to remove hers - she stared deep into his emerald eyes and watched as a frisky smile formed on his face. His hand lowered and he cocked his head to the side. "You'd like to see that?"

"Oh," She purred, her hand travelling across his broad chest, feeling each groove as she did. "I'd love to see that. Tell me, you're 18, right?"

"Uh huh." He replied as she leant a little closer to him.

A little sigh of pleasure escaped her lips as her hand travelled from his chest to his bicep. "Mmm. So young." She squeezed his arm. "But so experienced, I bet, someone as devastatingly handsome as you."

He shrugged languidly. "I've been around a little bit, I suppose."

"I'm sure you have. I'm sure you're tossing her around the room on the regular hmm?" She cocked her thumb back towards the living room, indicating Buttercup.

His eyes lit up, his grin widening. "You bet I do."

"Mmm, I thought as much. I always had a feeling about you. Clearly I was right. I remember when you were so tiny, but look at you now." She squeezed his arm. "Not a little boy anymore, are you?"

"All man." He assured her.

"Butch?"

Esmé and Butch looked up at Buttercup, who was standing in the hallway looking bewildered and wary. Neither Butch nor Esmé reacted in a manner that would indicate they were doing anything wrong. They both looked pretty unfazed by her arrival. Esmé did remove her hand from Butch's arm though, which Buttercup did notice.

Looking deep into the green puff's jade eyes, Esmé smiled. "Hi there sweetie. I was just burning the midnight oil in the lab - couldn't sleep, you see. I'm quite the insomniac. I was finishing up and ran into your mister here in the kitchen. It's getting pretty late, I was just wondering what you were up to."

Buttercup's suspicious expression relaxed, and she too smiled now as well. "Oh, right. Yeah, it is late, I didn't even notice. We must have been too engrossed in the movie we were watching."

"Yes, I know exactly how distracting things can get when you're young and in love and 'watching a movie'." She winked at her. Buttercup looked confused, but the smile didn't leave her face.

"We were just watching a film." Buttercup muttered, looking to Butch, a little baffled. But Butch's forest green eyes were trained on Esmé, a look of yearning in his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sure you were." She flapped her hand at her. "I know your father can be a little uptight about this sort of thing, but I'm not. I know what teenagers get up to." Her hand returned to Butch's chest again; she brushed down it, lingering near his midriff.

Buttercup's eye line followed it, her brow cranking momentarily until her expression once again relaxed. Butch leaned a little closer to her, as if to urge her hand lower.

"Well, we genuinely were just watching a film - but it's good to know you're cooler with that sorta stuff than my Dad is." Buttercup said, managing to peel her eyes from her hand, still on her boyfriend's lower midriff.

"Of course, you're 18. And any fool can sense the tension between the two of you, it's clear as day that you're both sexually active. Why try and stop it? It's basically biological. So Butch should stay the night; you can both take the spare room - together." She said, patting Butch's chest before removing her hand.

"I don't know - the Professor has a bed sharing rule -" Buttercup began but Esmé cut her off - she was a fighter, this one, but her will would win in the end, she always won in the end.

"Trust me, it's not a problem. He won't mind. I can assure you. He understands you're not little girls anymore. Go on, go - up to the spare room, just by our bedroom. I'll sort the TV, you two go." She told them confidently, her hand finding the small of Butch's back and pushing him toward Buttercup. "Live in the moment, won't you? Go for it, you're only young once - enjoy each other while you still can."

Butch's lust filled gaze finally landed on Buttercup now, and he grabbed her by the hand. She clutched his hand back just as tightly. "Okay." He said simply, unable to take his eyes off his counterpart.

"Goodnight you two. Try not to keep us up." She winked as they made their way up the stairs.

"Goodnight." They replied in unison. Esmé watched them go, a wicked smile twisted on her lips.

She padded through to the living room, grabbing the remote and switching the TV off, before tiptoeing back up the stairs. Peering her head inside the Powerpuff girls' shared bedroom, she saw that Blossom was still sound asleep.

Esmé clicked the door shut properly, before checking the Professor was still sleeping deeply. Upon seeing that the sleeping pill was still doing its job, she closed the door, and quietly opened the door to the spare bedroom.

Buttercup and Butch were inside, and under the covers. She could just make out the shape of the comforter draped over Butch's back; she could see it was bare. Excitement fizzled in her stomach as she watched his large hands slide up Buttercup's legs, guiding them onto his shoulders. The excitement bubbled into warm desire at the sound of Buttercup gasping in pleasure.

She struggled to pull herself away, knowing it would be difficult to explain later on when they questioned it if she stayed and watched - as much as she wanted to. Instead she pushed the door to, and slid down onto the floor. Just listening would have to do instead.

This; it wasn't part of her assignment at all. But even she needed a little fun here and there. And as long as it didn't get in the way of what she was there to do, it was surely harmless. The Professor was by no means the worst of people to be stuck having to share a bed with - but someone much more to her taste was nearby and this was the closest she could get as a means of distraction and entertainment, for now anyway.

A satisfied smile played about Esmé's lips as her slender hand found its way up her negligee and underneath her underpants, right between her legs. She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the wall and listened to the sound of them both grunting and moaning blissfully.

---

The morning progressed quite normally. Alarms went off, alerting everyone it was time to get up and go to work or school.

Blossom got herself up at her alarm, surprised to see she was alone in their bedroom. Bubbles had been at the boys' apartment with Boomer and Brick, Blossom had opted to stay home that evening to catch up on some assignments; but she'd expected Buttercup to be in her bed that morning. Presuming she'd just gotten up early, for once, she didn't dwell on it and carried on with getting ready for school.

Buttercup and Butch had arisen quite nonchalant as well, despite the fact they'd spent the night in the spare room, together - usually a big no no. Usually the sort of thing the Professor would perhaps ban Butch from staying over altogether for and possibly ground Buttercup for specifically going against his rule.

But they'd been woken up by Esmé brandishing a hot coffee for them both, and were quite content, getting up and beginning to get ready - or Butch as much as he could having no clean clothes or toothbrush there at the Powerpuff home he could change into or use.

The Professor appeared to have zero reaction to the fact Butch had stayed the night in the spare room with Buttercup, either.

He appeared none the wiser, which may have been the reason for his lack of reaction. It hadn't even crossed Buttercup or Butch's mind to wonder about it anyway - that in itself was odd..

Esmé and the Professor left for the lab downtown, and Blossom set off for school solo - Butch and Buttercup were swinging by the Rowdyruff apartment so Butch could grab a change of clothes.

It wasn't until Butch was locking up the apartment before they headed to school that what had actually happened the night previous hit Buttercup like a freight train. She was standing behind Butch, waiting as he fiddled with the lock on his front door; it could be tricky sometimes, when recollection flooded her, causing instant feelings of panic.

"Oh my fucking god." She exclaimed, her hand going to her mouth.

Butch turned to look at her, cranking a brow. "What?" The moment the word had escaped his lips she watched his face fall in horror as memories of what had occurred hit him too. "Wait, what the fuck happened last night?"

"Oh my god, oh my god - we both slept in the fucking spare room last night!" She cried. "Oh shit, why did we do that?! The Professor's gunna shit a brick when he realises! He must not know, there's no way he'd just be okay with that!"

"But, but Esmé - she said it was fine! She told us to!" Butch said, trying to decipher what had unfurled.

Buttercup's brow knitted as moments from the night before played out in her head. She remembered going to look for Butch, he'd just gone to get a drink but had been gone for a while. She'd found him in the doorway of the kitchen with Esmé. Esmé had a tiny robe on and her hand on his chest. She'd had her hand on his chest, and his arm and she kept touching him, right in front of her. And Butch didn't even stop her, either.

"I came looking for you, while we were watching the film. You went to get a drink, remember? And you were with her, all, all flirty." She mumbled, sounding totally confused by what she could remember, albeit pretty irritated, too.

Butch's brow crinkled as he remembered. "I wasn't, I wasn't flirting with her, she was, she was flirting with me!" He said, looking flustered, he could see Buttercup did not look impressed.

"From what I remember you didn't exactly look uncomfortable. She was touching your arm, and stroking your chest. And you were all fucking gooey eyed and didn't say a thing to stop her!" Her tone was accusing and angered.

"I didn't, I wasn't -" He paused, as he was unable to explain it. Because Buttercup was right, he'd not done anything to stop her. And it was weird because why hadn't he tried to stop her? Why didn't he tell her not to touch him, he did not want her to touch him! "I didn't do anything! She was flirting with me! She was being really weird, and asking me strange questions."

"Like what?" Buttercup asked, her tone still crisp.

"She told me to stay overnight. And was going on about wanting to see me in just a towel, or something." He was trying hard to remember. "It was really weird - she asked if I'm 18, and asked if we have sex all the time."

"What?!" Buttercup cried. "What did you tell her?"

"Well, I told her the truth..." He mumbled, scratching his head confusedly.

"What the hell Butch?! Why would you tell her that?! It's none of her business - she's going to tell the Professor and he's going to fucking flip!" She whacked him on the arm as she spoke.

"I don't know, okay, I don't know! I'm sorry! She just, she asked - so I, I answered…" He muttered, thoroughly confused.

"You didn't have to answer her!"

"But, but you were there too! When you come through to the kitchen, she told you she was cool with us having sex and that she wasn't an idiot and knew we were doing it. You didn't freak out then like you are now! In fact, you said it was good to know she was cool with it!" Butch countered with.

Buttercup screwed her face up. "No I didn't! Why would I -'' She froze as she realised he was right, she had said that. Why had she said that?! She shook her head in irritation, as images of Esmé stroking her hand down Butch's chest, letting it linger near the waistband of his pants played out in her mind and it made an anger burn in her chest. "She was fucking stroking your chest - she had her hand all over you and you were just looking at her all fucking starry-eyed! What the fuck Butch?! I was standing right there and you were quite happily letting her touch you!"

"I didn't, I don't - yeah, you were right there, and you didn't say a thing!" He cried, and she spluttered.

"Oh so it's okay for you to let a GROWN fucking woman touch you if I don't make a stink about it?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying! I'm saying you didn't seem to care last night! It's like when she's around no one says anything, and then when she's not we all have something to say about her.. I mean come on Buttercup, it's totally unlike you to bite your tongue, but with her -"

She interrupted him. "Hang on, someone flirts with you, openly, you let them, and it's my fault?!"

"No! I'm not saying that!"

"Do you like her or something?" She asked him, a serious edge to her voice.

"What?!" Butch exclaimed. "No! Of course not! She's fucking ancient - and I love you! Buttercup I wasn't flirting with her. It's just, always weird when she's around.. I don't know what it is. She was all flirting, and then you came through and she said we should go share the spare room together, and we -" He froze.

She did too when she realised what he was remembering. "We had sex. In the spare room. Which is right next to my Dad's room." Her hands met her face briefly as she rubbed at her eyes in despair, not caring if she smudged the small bit of makeup she wore to school. "Oh my god, what were we thinking?!"

"She told us to have sex." Butch mumbled. Buttercup's lime eyes grew wide as she looked up at Butch's face; he looked disturbed. "She told us to go upstairs, into the spare room together, and to 'go for it.' She said, 'you're only young once,' or something. And we went into the spare room and, and we…"

A moment of silence fell over them both. Buttercup felt extremely unnerved as she digested Butch's words. He was right, she remembered it just as he was saying. She felt confused, and deeply disturbed.

"Why did we, I don't understand…" She mumbled. Butch dragged his hand through his spiky hair and swallowed hard. "Butch, did you use a condom?"

He looked worried. "Umm…"

"Butch? Did you use a condom?" She repeated her question.

"I don't know."

---

The first period of the day was a free one; the class had been left to catch up with homework, assignments or extra credit tasks until the bell for second period went. Buttercup and Butch had arrived to class late, both of them looking troubled.

The pink puff had asked her sister what had caused them both to arrive 15 minutes past roll call, but she'd simply brushed it off, telling her they'd just lost track of time.

But Blossom wasn't exactly buying it. She knew her sister; she could see something was bugging her. The redhead turned in her seat to face her, she sat behind her in homeroom. "Buttercup," She said in a low voice. "Are you sure everything is okay?"

The green puff had been staring off into space, a scribbled-in notebook open in front of her with zero work of any kind inside of it.

"Huh?" Buttercup asked, her eyes focussing on her sister.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. Why?" She asked bitingly. Blossom cranked a brow at her.

"Because I know you're not." The pink puff replied simply.

Buttercup frowned deeply. "I'm fine."

"Did something happen this morning?" Her rose eyes flitted to Butch, who was frowning and staring at his desk. She knew he was listening.

"No." Buttercup insisted, but she answered a little too ferociously and it sort of gave away that something indeed had happened that morning.

"We know when you're just a little crabby or when something is genuinely up, so there's not much point in denying it." Bubbles chimed in, her blonde head appearing over Blossom's.

Buttercup rolled her eyes violently. "I'm fine - god, will you both just leave me alone?!" She snapped

Her sisters pouted at her. "Fine." Blossom said snippily.

"We're just looking out for you." Bubbles added, before they both turned their backs on her so they were facing the front of the class once more.

Buttercup sighed raggedly, picking up her pen and beginning to doodle on her notebook. Feeling eyes on her, she looked up; everyone who was looking looked away when she did. Everyone apart from Butch. They locked eyes momentarily, before both looking away at the same time.

Resuming her scribbling, Buttercup tried to think of something, anything that wasn't the abundance of weirdness that had been the night before.

But it wasn't very easy not to dwell on it. Esmé dragging her hand down Butch's chest kept going over and over in her mind. Even when she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think of something else, there it was: Esmé with her lashes all lowered seductively, Butch sporting a dangerously enticing expression; a look she knew very well.

A look that usually was aimed at her when it was on his face. A look he'd thrown her way for a very long time now - even before they were girlfriend and boyfriend he'd looked at her with that look.

Usually, it made her stomach flip. But replaying last night with Esmé over in her mind, all it did was make her stomach churn uncomfortably instead. She felt sick to think of Esmé flirting with him, and him allowing her to.

And her allowing her to! She didn't say a thing. She just stood there and watched it happen. And she couldn't explain why. She was mad at Esmé for having the audacity to think it was okay to openly flirt with her own boyfriend's daughter's boyfriend - who was several years her junior. She was mad at Butch for not instantly shutting Esmé down and having zero explanation for why he didn't do that. And she was mad at herself for not shutting it down either.

She just couldn't seem to explain it.

And neither could Butch. The whole thing had her feeling really torn. Because she knew what Butch was like; no, she didn't think for one moment he'd ever cheat on her. However, she knew he had a great appreciation for the female species - that was the nicest way she could think to word the fact his eyes were known to wander every now and then.

But wander was all they did - she was secure enough in herself and their relationship to not feel threatened or upset by it. He could tell her someone was attractive and she wouldn't instantly feel jealous, or think that meant he liked them now instead. They'd even been known to discuss the attractiveness of other women they'd seen/in the media together. There was an unspoken line, a limit he never crossed - but now it felt like it had been crossed.

Which did make her feel insecure, and worried. Was this the beginning of a huge problem? Her light green eyes found Butch sat at his desk beside her. He was staring off into space, his chin resting on his hand.

Was he going to hurt her?

She felt as though she didn't know. Which worried her. She should know he'd never hurt her. Suddenly she felt like she had no idea. Everything felt uncertain.

Last night, she had stood there and watched Esmé squeezing his arm and caressing his chest, her hand dancing dangerously close to his crotch region - and she did nothing about it.

Why did she do nothing? The thought made worry stir in her chest so much it felt tight. Was there an unearthed reason she did nothing? Was it like she subconsciously expected this from him?

She hated that woman. Look at what she'd caused. And that was without mentioning how the evening had progressed. Sharing a bed in the spare room, right beside the Professor - and being so antsy to do so they'd potentially had unprotected sex.

Buttercup was dreading seeing her father later. Did he know? Would Esmé tell him? Was it just going to be awkward? Or would he be disappointed? Him being disappointed was worse than him being mad.

She was totally trying to bypass the fact they'd had sex, and neither of them knew if they'd used protection. After the revelations outside the Rowdyruff apartment, herself and Butch had gone back to her house to try and find any 'evidence' of their evening left in the spare room, or the bathroom - anywhere! But they'd not found anything.

Her foot began to tap rapidly against the ground as her worry grew. She couldn't even think about that. It was too much to handle. She knew they had to handle it, but the fear of the potential consequences of it were overwhelming. Bruce, the irritating Maybe Baby they'd had under their care for one weekend began to scream monotonously in her mind and it made her feel like vomiting.

That just could not happen.

Miss Hearn looked up from her laptop, feeling a slight tremor on the ground that had distracted her. When she looked up, she noted most of her class were also looking preoccupied, presumably by the same thing. Knowing her class well enough by now, Miss Hearn spied Buttercup and immediately knew what the problem was.

"Buttercup!"

Her voice being barked across the class broke the green puff from her thoughts. "Huh?"

"Do you mind? We don't need a low magnitude earthquake to work alongside this morning."

Buttercup looked down, noting her tapping foot, and froze. "Oh - sorry!"

With a low murmur, everyone looked away from the green puff and resumed their work. Bubbles and Blossom exchanged knowing looks; yeah, they knew something was up for sure.

The brunette looked over at her counterpart, who was still watching her, concern evident in his emerald eyes. He smiled a small, slanted smile at her. And she returned it, for all of 0.02 seconds, before it fell off her face and she looked back down at her notebook.

---

Professor Winter looked on from her workstation on the left side of the open plan wet lab of Utonium Laboratories. Esmé was on the far right side, working at a workstation tucked away in the corner.

Over the course of the day, Vanessa had watched Esmé go in and out of the sealed containment unit they stored the classified items in; things like Chemical X, Antidote X, chromanium alloy, the healing serum and any other concoctions or creations they used in their research projects.

It unnerved Professor Winter; she'd worked there a little over two weeks now, yet she had full access to everything they had to offer at Utonium Laboratories - and she'd had access from day one too. She'd had to work there for months until she was even allowed to follow the Professor inside the storage units, let alone take what she wanted from there without a care in the world.

Yet here Professor Savino was, coming and going with as much Chemical or Antidote X as she so desired, getting up to God knows what with it too.

Professor Winter didn't like it.

It went without saying she wasn't a fan of her new colleague; the Professor had effectively dumped her for Professor Savino at the drop of a hat with zero explanation.

Having to sit in the same building with them while they played tonsil tennis on his desk was excruciating. If she didn't love her line of work like she did she'd leave, it was getting very difficult to have to watch 5 days a week. But she refused to leave. She'd worked hard for her role, and deserved it way more than Professor Savino did, in her eyes, regardless of her apparently rich resumé.

Professor Utonium was in his office alone. And Professor Savino was busy at her workstation. Deciding to take the opportunity while John was alone, for once, she quickly approached his office, knocking on the door lightly before peering inside.

Professor Utonium flashed her an expectant look.

"Professor Utonium, could I have a quick word? Alone?" She said, letting herself in and closing the door behind her.

"Professor Winter, what is it? I'm expecting a phone call." Professor Utonium replied curtly.

She frowned a little, pulling herself together quickly. "Oh, it won't take a second. I was just wondering if you could tell me what Professor Savino is up to? She seems pretty engrossed in something - and I guess I was just a little curious…"

Professor Utonium furrowed his brow at her. "Professor Savino is working on an Antidote X blocker pill, if you must know."

Professor Winter looked confused. "An Antidote X blocker? Whatever for?"

He sent an unimpressed look her way. "To block Antidote X."

"Well yes, but, but why? I thought we spoke about this idea like a year ago. You said you didn't like the idea of the girls having to take a pill everyday. We were unsure of the long term side effects taking something more than likely Chemical X based on a daily basis. You decided it wasn't something you were prepared to risk currently. Also, there were other factors, like if you needed to operate in order to save one of their lives - sometimes Antidote X is required in a scenario like that, if they had a blocker in their system -"

Professor Utonium cut her off bluntly. "Do you think that I, as the girls' creator, haven't considered all these factors before deciding to okay this research project?"

Professor Winter knew she should have felt hurt by the flippant tone he'd used to respond to her with - but she was more disturbed by something else he'd said: he'd referred to himself as the girls' 'creator', and not their father, something she'd never heard him do in the years she'd worked with him and gotten close to him. It struck her as odd. "Well, I'm sure that you have, but I -"

"I think the benefits outweigh the risks. And Esmé knows what she is doing. Her knowledge and experience in haematology far exceeds yours. What are you doing right now, Winter?" He cocked his head to the side as he looked at her.

She blinked at him. Winter. He'd just called her Winter. Not Professor Winter, not Vanessa. Just Winter. They'd gone back to that stage. That stage had started when she'd started working there.

"Winter?" She asked, a hint of hurt in her voice.

He nodded at her, nonchalant. "Is that not your name?"

"No, it is - I'm gathering information from our latest trial of the wound serum, Professor Utonium."

"Right, you stick to that, yes?" He instructed, looking at the door to his office pointedly, then back at her.

Her chest felt tight as she nodded. "Yes, Professor Utonium."

As Vanessa exited his office, Esmé was marching across the lab floor, making her way to the sealed container again.

"Just grabbing some Chemical X, Johnny." She called through to the Professor.

He nodded at her from his desk. "Okay sweetie."

Vanessa glared at Esmé as she passed her, unable to hold back the hatred she felt towards the woman. Esmé didn't pay any mind to her, entering the entry code to the container and stepping inside without a second thought.

Once inside, Esmé went straight to the Antidote X instead, taking a sachet and slipping it into her lab coat pocket. Then, to keep up appearances, she took a sachet of Chemical X too, before leaving the container and clogging her way back to her workstation in the corner, not bothering to sign any of it in or out as they were supposed to. "Prototype A is getting close to completion!" She hollered to the Professor, who flashed her a thumbs up. She grinned back at him.

Again, she paid no mind to Vanessa, stewing in the corner. She could feel her simmering hatred and disgust for her, but she let it be. It was more fun that way, leaving her to hate her rather than making her like her.

Anyway, she had much more important things to be getting on with. Her first prototype was actually almost done, but it wasn't the prototype Professor Utonium thought she'd been working on.

Antidote X blocker? No. This was a slow release Antidote X pill. Whomever consumed this pill would find their powers faltering slowly over time, until suddenly they were gone. And in theory, a dose of Chemical X would do squat all to bring on the return of their powers, until this pill had completely left their systems.

She hoped it would last about 8 hours. But she wouldn't know any details like that for definite until she'd been able to properly test it. And she knew precisely who her first test subject was going to be: Buttercup Utonium.

That choice had been pretty easy. The green puff's mind had a scarce amount of positive thoughts and feelings towards Esmé. Which made her the obvious choice to use as a guinea pig first. Also, she fought her way more than Bubbles did. Bubbles was naturally kinder, and more optimistic; her thoughts and feelings leaned more towards giving Esmé a chance.

But not Buttercup.

Plus, the only thing she liked about the girl was her boyfriend. If Buttercup was dealt with first, Butch would be free for her to play with whenever she pleased. His mind was completely easy to exploit.

Not that those added points were anything to do with her assignment. But all work and no play made Esmé a dull gal. She was sure her Master would understand that.

Just as long as she didn't slack, all would be fine. And she certainly wasn't slacking; she was hoping to have a pill ready to test on the unsuspecting green puff in a week or so's time, if not less. And if she could render a Powerpuff girl powerless by slipping them a pill, well, it would make her assignment all the more easier.

It would all be fine. Any extra-curricular activities she engaged in like the one she had the night before wouldn't cause a big enough distraction to set her off course, she'd make sure of it.

The Professor was none the wiser, and neither was His Majesty. And if Buttercup had the gall to try and confront her about it, she'd soon set her straight.

After all, Esmé knew best.

---

"Hey, you sure you don't wanna come to Biggies with us?" Mitch asked as he shouldered his school bag onto his back. He knew something was going on between his two friends, they'd been totally off for the whole day. But he hadn't pushed for an answer. He knew Buttercup well enough to know that when she was quiet like that, and not angry, she was feeling pretty messed up by something.

But he also knew she wouldn't speak till she wanted to, so pestering her for an answer was pointless. She'd talk when/if she wanted to. He just hoped it wasn't something they'd break up over. Their friendship group suffered dramatically when Buttercup and Cody split; he felt it'd somehow be worse if Buttercup and Butch did.

"BC, I'll buy you chicken wingsssssss?" Mitch offered in a singsong voice.

Buttercup smirked, chuckling a little. "Can we rain check that? Butch and I have got some superhero shit we've gotta tend to. But, maybe another day?" It wasn't superhero shit, but she wasn't going to explain what they were actually going to do.

"Yeah, for sure." Butch replied, his voice lacklustre.

"Okay." Mitch nodded, looking to Louie and Harry. "You okay to drive us, Lou?"

"Yeah," Louie said, brandishing his van keys. "We'll see you tomorrow?"

Butch nodded, and they waved them goodbye. The two brunettes stood in silence, waiting for the school parking lot to empty a little more - or more to make sure neither of their siblings came by and questioned where they were going.

Buttercup didn't want anyone to know what they were going to go and do right now. She wasn't necessarily ashamed of having a hiccup - but she was a little ashamed about how said hiccup had occurred. Because it seemed inexplicable, and somehow made her feel vulnerable.

She hugged her arms around her jacket, sighing lightly. Butch tried to think of something to say, but came up blank. Which was odd; he usually was never left tongue tied around Buttercup. Usually, he told her every stupid thought that came into his brain.

But right now, he just didn't know what to say. He didn't know what he could say, cos all of this, it was fucked up. He just couldn't explain it. Something fucking weird was going on.

"Shall we go?" He said, after scouting the lot and feeling happy that no one was going to follow/ask where they were off to.

The green puff nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay."

They took off in two streaks of green, flying in continued silence. Buttercup retrieved her personal cell from her jacket pocket, tapping away at the screen.

"Millgreens Pharmacy on Blaker Street - is that it?" She called over to him.

"Uhh," Butch mumbled, grabbing his own phone now. "Yeah, that's it."

"Okay."

She wanted to talk to him; she wanted things to be normal. But they just didn't feel it. Things felt odd. She felt confused. So did he. So they flew in silence as they reached the outskirts of Citiesville, watching as the cityscape grew considerably bleaker the closer they got.

The pharmacy they were attending was the closest one on the outskirts of Citiesville. Buttercup began to touch down two or three blocks away from it, and Butch halted, confused.

"Isn't it over that way?" He said, hovering.

She reached the ground, looking up at him. "Yeah, probably. No powers here, remember? They'll straight up arrest you."

"Oh yeah." He mumbled, floating down and landing beside her. "Worst place ever."

"Yep." She agreed, and they began to walk side by side, Buttercup using her map app on her phone to guide them.

The horrible, heavy silence continued on as they walked. Their hands bumped into each other, but neither made to grab one. They'd both hoped the other would, feeling more disappointment when neither did.

"Hey, hey, what're you doing down here baby? No nooo, you should not be down in a part of town like this - we'll eat you alive and enjoy every second! Oh man!"A voice yelled from an alleyway. A man stood there, looking very worse for wear - his clothes had holes in, and he was nursing a bottle of whisky as he licked his lips, using a broken shopping cart to hold himself up. "Babe, come with me, I'll see to ya, look after ya - whadaya say, huh? Whadaya say?"

Buttercup reached for Butch's hand now without thinking. He held it back tightly, halting.

"Dude, fuck off." The green ruff said bluntly. Buttercup pulled him along.

"Just ignore him. We can't be starting shit, we're not supposed to be here, remember?" She hissed at him.

"I didn't start shit! He started shit!" Butch replied in indignation.

"Whoa whoa - hey! What's with the disrespect? I was being nice!" The man hollered. "I have whisky!"

Buttercup pulled Butch onwards, continuing to walk. She didn't let go of his hand though, he noticed. "Worst fucking place ever." Butch reiterated.

"It really is." Buttercup agreed, mostly just being thankful that they were talking and it didn't feel weird. But then the very fact she was grateful a homeless man had tried to hit on her and it had helped them speak to one another - that was weird.

It was all weird, and it sucked.

They arrived on Blaker Street, and Buttercup looked up, locating Millgreens Pharmacy on the opposite side of the road. "This is it."

Butch nodded, looking over. "Want me to go in and get it?"

She shook her head. "I don't think you can - on account of you not having a vagina."

He smirked at her, and she smirked back. "Ahh, of course. Shall I come with, or..?"

"No, wait here. I'll be in and out, hopefully."

He swallowed and nodded, noticing a bench a yard or so away. "Okay, well, I'll be right here."

She nodded rapidly. "Okay."

He watched her fist her hands into her jacket pocket as she crossed the road and disappeared inside the pharmacy, then sighed, looking up to the heavens and leaning back against the bench.

This was all so messed up. And he felt totally to blame. But then he didn't. He blamed Esmé, yet he couldn't explain how or why he blamed her. He just knew it was her. But he couldn't verbalise why. He couldn't even determine in his head why, let alone out loud.

It made no sense.

Through the barred store window, Butch could see the pharmacist inside talking to Buttercup, and jotting stuff down on a form as they spoke. Maybe she had to answer a bunch of questions before they'd let her get the pill. He didn't know, he'd never done this before. And neither had she. It wasn't that they'd had an accident, it was why, or how that got to him. It was almost as if it had happened against either of their will. But then that made no sense - he remembered it well enough and they'd both been consenting parties. At least, the way he remembered it they had.

He just felt terrible, and wished there was something he could do to make this go away, or make it better in the least. Next to the pharmacy was a beat up looking mini mart. He got up, deciding to get her a drink - she'd need it to take the tablet. And maybe something sweet would cheer her up.

A couple of minutes later, he returned to the wooden bench outside, a brown paper bag on his lap. Seconds later, the door to the pharmacy tinkled as Buttercup left, a small white box in her hand as she crossed the road towards him.

"$50 bucks." She said simply, holding the box that contained the morning after pill aloft.

"I'll pay for it. I'll give you $50 when we go to mine next."

"It's fine. I don't really care. Just had no idea it was so pricey." She murmured, sitting down beside him. "Thank god for Project:Protect though."

He reached inside the grocery bag. "I got you a drink." He said, handing her the cola drink he'd bought her. "And a Dune bar." He added, smirking as he presented her with her favourite candy bar.

She smirked back at him. "Thanks. I hear a Dune bar washes down just great with the morning after pill."

His face fell, unsure if she was joking or not, but she was still smiling a small smile, so he smiled back, relieved she was joking. He ran his hand through his thick black spikes and sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, you don't need to be, I guess - it's not your fault. I don't remember telling you to put one on either… We were pretty caught up in the moment…" She tried to explain, fiddling with the store brand morning after pill box in her hand.

"You shouldn't have to tell me though - I should have just put one on, I always fucking put one on, I don't understand why I didn't. Like, it's never slipped my mind before. It's never been a problem."

"I know.. I don't understand what happened either." She undid the box, pulling the blister pack out; there was a solitary small white pill inside. She popped it out and into her hand, examining it for a moment. Closing it in her fist, she took the can and opened it.

"You did want to do it, right?" Butch asked in a low voice as Buttercup went to pop the pill in her mouth but paused at the question he'd asked. "You did want to have sex? Cos it was just so weird - one minute we were in the hall talking to Esmé, the next I'm on top of you. I didn't, I didn't like make you, did I? -"

She interrupted him as she could see the guilt growing on his face. "No, it wasn't like that. I did want to. You didn't force me, god."

"Are you sure?" He asked, concern evident in his eyes.

"Yes I'm sure! I definitely wanted to do it. Cute that you think you could force me, though." A teasing smile appeared on her face as she looked at him and he found himself grinning.

"Oh I could - but I would never!" His sentence had begun playful, until he realised what he'd said and was a little appalled at himself.

She chuckled. "I know - because you couldn't."

He laughed, finding the sound of her laughing to be almost musical to him. It brought him such a sense of comfort. "Okay then." He murmured sarcastically.

After a light little sigh, she placed the pill on her tongue and chugged back a few mouthfuls of drink, swallowing it down.

"So, what now?" He asked as she wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I guess we wait. And hope Aunt Flo pays me a visit when she's due." Buttercup said, tossing the empty box into the trash can beside the bench.

"I thought your Aunt was called Ingrid?" He asked, brow furrowed.

She laughed. "My real Aunt is called Ingrid. I was talking about my period, genius."

"Ohhh, right. I see. Shit, okay. What a fucking nightmare. That fucking woman - I don't like her, at all." Butch declared, and she found herself nodding.

"That makes two of us."

"It's just always so weird when she's around."

"I know right, what is that?" Buttercup cried, feeling so relieved to be talking to him again with ease.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said what I said to her, I shouldn't have told her anything personal about us when she started making assumptions. And I should have stopped her flirting - which is super weird, by the way, cos she's like, old enough to be my Mom. I just, I dunno, I feel really at ease around her, and words start coming out of my mouth before I'm even aware of it. It's so weird." He told her confusedly.

"I know what you mean. She's a fucking odd woman." There was a little pause; jade eyes met emerald. "You're definitely not crushing on her? Cos if you were, I'd rather you just said, and I dunno - we can try and handle it, or something -"

He shook his head rapidly, turning to face her more and taking one of her hands in his. "No way! Cupcake - she's an attractive lady, okay, I won't lie. Judging purely on looks, she's a 10, for sure. But you're an 11. No, 20. 100 - an all round 100. I love you. Like real fucking head over heels, shit-I'm-in-trouble-here love you."

She found herself chuckling. "I love you too."

"Which is a fucking miracle cos I screw everything up. I'm sorry I got us in this position."

"No you didn't. It takes two to tango. If she ever asks about our sex life again just tell her you don't want to talk about it. It's none of her business. It was almost like she enjoyed hearing about it." Her head found his shoulder, resting on it as she sipped at her cola.

"I'm legit not going to talk to her. I don't want to interact with her at all, there's something off about her." Butch said, placing his head on top of hers, still holding her hand tightly.

---

Mitch placed the little card box filled with chicken wings down in front of Buttercup; she smiled when her eyes met his.

"A promise is a promise." He grinned as she grabbed the box and pulled it towards her.

"Thanks man." She said, opening it and picking one up. Suddenly she was hungry; she'd had zero appetite all day.

"No sweat. So, are you two okay now?" Mitch queried, looking over at Butch; he was standing with his blonde brother and Harry, playing a shoot out game. Buttercup was sitting at a booth table at Biggies Food 'n' Fun, the arcade they loved to frequent on weekends and after school.

"Butch? We're fine." Buttercup said dismissively through a mouthful of chicken.

Mitch cranked a brow. "Right. Remember I've known you for like 13 years. But whatever, just as long as you're all right."

She nodded, smiling warmly. "It's all good."

He drummed his fingers along the table and nodded, before telling her he was off to slaughter her boyfriend on Zombie Shootout 3. She smiled forcibly and watched him go, before sighing and sipping her soda.

After going to Citiesville for the morning after pill as a precaution, Buttercup had decided she did want to go to Biggies with the rest of their friends.

Mostly because she didn't want to go home. She felt like all she'd do if she went home was think about it all, until the Professor got home from the lab, and then what was going to happen then? Would the Professor know that her and Butch slept, and did a little bit more, in the spare room the night before? Would he be mad?

And Esmé. She'd likely be there - because quite frankly she was always there. She did not want to see her. All the shit she'd caused, she didn't know what she'd do when she saw her next.

Plus - should she tell her father that his girlfriend had flirted with her boyfriend? She'd likely talk her way out of it; the sun really did appear to shine out of her ass in the Professor's opinion.

She didn't know what to do.

Bubbles and Robin sat down opposite her, the latter pulling the box of chicken wings closer and pinching one. Buttercup didn't complain, which struck Robin as a little odd. Her friend was usually pretty territorial when it came to her food. It further confirmed what she already knew; something was up with her.

Bubbles looked back at the arcade area, locating Seb - he was playing a basketball hoop game with Mike, both of them laughing.

"Does Seb talk to either of you much?" The blonde puff asked, reaching forward for Buttercup's drink and taking a sip.

Buttercup made an irritated noise at the back of her throat. "Hey, this isn't a free-for-all! No, he doesn't really. I don't really know him, to be honest."

"He talks to me, yeah. But mostly he's with Mike. They seem to have really hit it off." Robin commented casually, scrolling through her phone idly. She angled it so Bubbles could see, showing her Seb's FaceSpace account. There were a couple of photos posted of Seb and Mike hanging out.

"You have him as a friend on FaceSpace?" Bubbles asked, sounding a little downtrodden. "I sent him a friend request, but I think he must have declined it."

"Really?" Robin replied, sounding baffled. "I don't know why he'd do that.. I thought you guys got on pretty well. A couple of regular amigos, what with your shared multilingualism."

"We did, I thought we did too, but…" Bubbles paused, finding Boomer amongst the rest of their friends. "I think Boomer said something to him. To like, scare him off." She admitted in a quiet voice.

Robin screwed her face up, and Buttercup cranked a brow at her sister.

"Why?" Robin said.

"Because… Because he's jealous! And I think he's threatened him or something. Because one minute Seb was fine, the next he's going out of his way to not speak to me."

"Well, have you asked him?" Robin asked, and Bubbles nodded.

"I did. He said he didn't. But I think he lied." The blue puff mumbled.

"So confront him." Buttercup said simply. "Ask him if he lied."

"I can't - because what if I'm wrong and he hasn't lied?" Bubbles said. "What if this has nothing to do with Boomer?"

"Want me to talk to Seb for you?" Robin suggested. Bubbles' sky blue eyes found Seb, his hand resting on Mike's lower back as he took a shot with the basketball into the highest hoop.

"Maybe… Is that a good idea?" Bubbles asked, then sighed. "I know it's so silly! He's my boyfriend, I should be able to just talk to him! But it feels a little delicate. I think he's got some real issues surrounding this sort of stuff. When I did speak to him about it, he told me he was scared I'd leave him like everyone else. Which makes me feel terrible for ever doubting him. He's been so damaged by his upbringing in ways I don't think even he is aware of, and it's in moments like this I'm reminded of that and it makes me feel like I should be doing more to help him, not accusing him of things."

Robin frowned at her best friend, patting her on the arm gently. "I get what you're saying, but remember his upbringing isn't your responsibility, to start with. Supporting him through the rough stuff is obviously great, but you should be able to tell him how you feel."

"I think I'm scared to outright ask him, because I don't want him to have lied. Because I couldn't bear it. I hate lying, and I hate the idea of him lying to me. I know if he's lied we're going to fall out over it." Bubbles murmured in a pained, low voice. "And I don't want to fall out with him. I love him too much."

"Buttercup, what do you think?" Robin asked.

After a moment's consideration, Buttercup spoke. "I caught Esmé flirting with Butch."

Both Robin and Bubbles' eyes bugged. "What?!" They hissed in unison.

"Yeah. And I can't explain it.. In the moment - I was neutral. Like, I saw it happening and I didn't respond. But afterwards, later - well I'm pissed the fuck off! I mean, what the hell is that about?" Buttercup asked them, trying to articulate to them how strange it all was.

"Wait, wait, wait - we need more context. Flirting like how?" Robin pressed.

"Yeah, like, a little compliment? Or like, shoving those boobs of hers in his face?" Bubbles said.

"Flirting like touching his chest, and arm, and saying how attractive he is and stuff." Buttercup sneered as she explained.

"Oh dear." Robin mumbled. "That is definitely problematic."

"Does the Professor know?" Bubbles asked. Buttercup shook her head.

"No, he doesn't know." Buttercup said. "I don't know whether to tell him, either… I just don't get it. I don't get why I didn't say anything to her! I don't get why Butch didn't. It's like, does it bother me or does it not bother me? I know we're a bit more relaxed then most couples would be about stuff like that. Like I know how Butch's mind works.. If I was to lose my shit every time he looked at someone else, we'd be split up by now. But it doesn't really bother me too much, I guess I just know it's harmless, right?"

Robin and Bubbles nodded.

"Everyone is different when it comes to stuff like that; everyone has different comfort levels." Robin agreed.

"For instance, you and Butch are pretty comfortable with the idea of one of you complimenting someone else's looks - but I know if I said someone else was attractive, it would make Boomer feel insecure." Bubbles said, eyeing Seb - whom she'd not even said was attractive but had still become a problem.

"Right.. I mean don't get me wrong I have a limit. If he was full on coming on to someone I'd be pissed off and tell him to stop. And it'd make me begin to question us as a couple.. But he doesn't do stuff like that. And I know he wouldn't, because I know he loves me. But then, Esmé, this fucking beautiful woman, she's standing there fluttering her lashes and he's all, lapping it up. Why am I standing there like some fucking chump allowing it? She's a grown ass fucking woman in her like, 40's or 50's or whatever, and she's flirting with an 18 year old." Buttercup ranted in a low voice.

"Are you asking if you're allowing it in the moment because maybe you don't care?" Robin asked her delicately.

Buttercup's eyes flashed. "I do care, though! I don't like it. But in the moment, when she was doing it, I just didn't react. I didn't even feel mad. But now I am. It's so strange and I don't know what's happening. Butch is the same, in the moment he's all flirty-flirt back, and after he was like what the fuck was that about?"

There was a little pause. Buttercup spoke again before anyone else could. "I don't like her, I don't fucking like her and I wish the Professor wasn't with her. I'm just gunna have to avoid her. We'll just hang at Butch's from here on out. I just won't bring him over. Keep this to yourselves, yeah? Thanks guys." She said decidedly, picking up her box of chicken wings and floating over to Butch, Boomer, Harry and Mitch, joining in in their game.

Bubbles and Robin watched Butch place his arm around her. She let him, leaning against him affectionately.

"Okay, well that was helpful. Thanks for your advice, Buttercup." Bubbles murmured, reaching forward and taking her sister's drink for her own.

"Esmé sounds questionable." Robin commented.

Bubbles nodded as she sucked on the straw. "Hmm, I think you're right. It's all a little strange at the minute, Robin. Something is going on for sure. I just don't know what. But I've got a feeling she's not going anywhere for a while. The Professor's fallen. Hook, line and sinker."

---

Blossom landed by the front door to her home with a light, contented sigh. She'd been over the Rowdyruff apartment with Brick - and it had turned out only them two had been at home; both their siblings had gone to Biggies Food 'n' Fun with their friends.

The pink puff had found she'd had to be very firm about them actually doing some Trigonometry work, despite them having the apartment to themselves. Having left her workbook AND textbook at home due to Esmé rushing them into the car that morning, she had a little catching up to do.

But being strict had proven more difficult then she'd expected; since they'd moved their relationship up to the next level they were finding it hard to keep their hands off each other.

We did at least finish the trig work first, she thought to herself, hiding her smile by pulling her lips between her teeth, the fooling around they had done afterwards replaying a little in her mind.

As she slipped her house key into the door to allow herself in, her other hand fingered at her neck, stroking a slightly swollen patch and feeling her stomach flip as she did. Assured by the fact that the tiny little hickey would disappear in an hour or two, she flicked her hair over her shoulder to cover it and stepped inside.

It was her turn to cook tonight, and she was planning on making a chicken casserole. Turning towards the coat rack, she froze. There were two very large suitcases by the door. Two suitcases she'd never seen before, either, so they weren't the Professor's...

Why were there suitcases by the door?

She had a feeling she knew precisely who those suitcases belonged to, and why they were there. Her feeling was confirmed by a "Hi there Blossie dear!" coming from the top of the stairs.

Blossom frowned at the nickname Esmé had christened her with. It was like she knew she didn't like it so used it to spite her.

"Esmé, hello. Are you and the Professor going on a trip, or something?" She asked, eyeing the suitcases.

"Oh no, they're mine - it's because - oh I'll let your father tell you. Johnny! Your Blossie is home." Esmé called up the stairs.

Blossom found herself gritting her teeth. The Professor appeared from behind her and they both descended the staircase.

"Hello sweetie. Good day at school?" He asked casually.

"Umm, yes, I suppose - Professor what's going on?" Her hand indicated the suitcases.

"Ahh, yes - Esmé is moving in." The Professor cried happily, Blossom's rose eyes bugged.

"Yay!" Esmé exclaimed, clapping.

"Wh-what? But, but, this soon? It's so quick." Blossom stammered, unable to not say what she was thinking.

The Professor only shrugged, slinking his arm around Esmé's waist. "We fell quickly - and hard. This is the next natural step of our relationship."

"Aren't you happy for your father, Blossom? Aren't you happy for us?" Esmé asked now, fear in her voice that Blossom just felt was false - or in the least, forced.

"I just, it seems a little extreme.. You've known each other for a really short amount of time. Like, 3 weeks or something, if that!" The redhead murmured, watching as her father's expression grew cross.

"You're not going to make this a problem are you, Blossom?" He asked her, his voice hard.

"What?" Blossom stammered as he folded his arms across his chest.

"When you decided to own up to the fact you were in a relationship with Brick Jojo, of all people, did I make that a problem?" She blinked at him, shocked. "The boy that tried to kill you for some 12 years, and now instead leaves hickeys on your neck." Blossom blushed, blindly fumbling at her neck as he sneered at her. "Hmm yes, I noticed. Clearly he likes to leave marks on your body, he left you disfigured with that ugly scar on your stomach a few years ago, almost killing you in the process too, but I'm expected to swallow it, for you."

Blossom's mouth fell open. "Professor!" She cried, dismayed.

"Johnny, sweetie, that's quite enough." Esmé said, patting his arm.

Blossom realised she was holding her breath now, stock still in her upset and shock. He'd never spoken to her like that before, or any of them, quite frankly. To call her scar ugly, knowing how hard she'd wrangled with it for years.. How could he?

"I'm sorry Esmé, I just feel I deserve to be happy, just like Blossom does with Brick, right? And Buttercup with Butch, and Bubbles with Boomer. I could have really caused a stink when they decided to start dating their enemies, but I supported them. A little of that back wouldn't go amiss." He thundered fiercely.

The pink puff's eyes grew glassy at his words. "Professor, I'm sorry. I, I really didn't mean to upset you - if you're happy, I'm happy."

He nodded, taking a deep breath. "Well, I am happy. I love Esmé, this is what I want. Why don't you take Esmé's suitcases up to our room for us? Then you can make a start on dinner."

Blossom swallowed back the lump threatening to form in her throat. "Okay."

---

"Oooh, dinner smells good. Bet you wish you didn't eat so many chicken wings now, huh?" Bubbles murmured to her sister as they hung up their school bags and kicked off their shoes.

"I never regret eating chicken wings." Buttercup vowed; Bubbles giggled, knowing she really meant that.

"Helloooo." Bubbles called as she hovered through the house, trying to figure out who was home.

Entering the kitchen first, she found her redheaded sister leaning against the kitchen worktop, looking troubled.

"Hey, is everything okay? Dinner smells good - did you make me a veggie casserole?" Bubbles queried casually, pausing when she caught her sister's expression.

"Umm, yes. I did, it's in the oven. Help yourselves. Have you seen the Professor since you got in?" Her question was aimed at both of them; Buttercup had just floated in.

"Not yet, we've just got home. What's the matter?" Bubbles prodded.

"Is Esmé here? Has she done something?" Buttercup asked, her anger coming to a head.

"Esmé has moved in." Blossom said blankly.

There was a slight pause. "What?!" They cried in unison.

"But please don't make a fuss about it." Blossom urged them in hushed tones.

"But, but - already?! That's soo fast?!" Bubbles blurted.

"Yes, and I told the Professor that and he got really mad at me. Like, really, really mad. So I'd keep your thoughts and feelings about it to yourself, unless you fancy having some insults thrown your way." The pink puff warned them.

"He insulted you?" Buttercup reiterated. Blossom nodded, swallowing hard. "You know what? I'm about done with all this. I got a bone to pick with Esmé as it is - where is she?"

"I don't know - but I wouldn't stir the pot if I were you." Blossom urged, but Buttercup only scoffed in reply.

"I'm going to break the fucking pot." She stalked out of the room, ready to spit fire at both Esmé and the Professor. She found Esmé first, and thankfully, she was alone. "Esmé." She barked.

Esmé replied without removing her eyes from the TV. "Hey sweetie, everything okay?"

"No, actually, it's not. You and I need to have a little talk about boundaries." Buttercup told her, folding her arms across her chest.

"Whatever are you talking about, dear?" Esmé asked, sounding a little uninterested, she was still watching the TV.

"You and Butch, last night." Buttercup seethed, looking from the TV to Esmé. "Can you actually look at me when I'm talking to you?"

Esmé smirked, getting to her feet. "If you insist. What about us?"

"You were flirting with him! Touching him! Asking and telling him inappropriate things. He told me - and I was there!"

Esmé was flabbergasted. "You cannot be serious - oh my heavens, what on earth have I done that made you so uncomfortable?"

Buttercup blinked at her, shocked she could even act like she'd done nothing wrong. "You were stroking his chest! And lowering your hand while you were at it too!"

"Ohh Buttercup," She cried, touching her shoulder, and looking deep into her eyes. "Oh sweetheart, you've gotten the wrong end of the stick totally."

Her furious expression faltered. "I have?"

"Yes sweetie! You've heard of the 5 love languages, right? My love language is touch." Esmé explained, reaching forward and stroking Buttercup's cheek, allowing her hand to linger there momentarily. "I wasn't doing anything inappropriate at all. It's just how I communicate."

"You weren't?" Buttercup asked, sounding small and confused.

"Of course not. Everything is fine, I promise. I wouldn't flirt with your boyfriend, I love your father."

"Okay. I, I didn't realise. It just seemed like -"

"You should apologise to me for accusing me of something like that." Esmé said, her voice soft.

"I'm sorry, Esmé." Buttercup said, almost robotically.

"That's fine. Now, your sister's cooked us a nice dinner. Shall we go and eat?" Esmé suggested, in a voice that quite clearly wasn't a suggestion at all.

"Okay. Although, I'm not really that hungry. I actually feel a little sick." Buttercup mumbled, feeling disordered.

Esmé patted her on the shoulder. "You're fine. Let's go and eat."

---

A week had passed since Esmé had moved in. Only a week. But it felt like she'd been there for years. And not in a good way.

Home was feeling less and less like home for Blossom since she'd unloaded several suitcases into the Utonium residence, and since the Professor had spat out such venomous words at her.

It felt like a show. Like everyone was putting on a front to keep the Professor and Esmé happy.

At least, Blossom knew that was what she was doing, anyway. When she was at home, she smiled and was polite and went along with the things they wanted, to keep the peace. Because when she did object or even question things - well, look what had happened. The Professor had said some awful things to her that made her feel terrible about herself.

What had hurt even more is he'd usually never speak to any of them like that.

Yet when it came to Esmé…

So she went along with everything Esmé and the Professor said or wanted. And it felt like her sisters were putting on a front, too. They only ever had a bad word to say about Esmé when they weren't in the vicinity of her. When they were at home, or just generally around her, everyone smiled and was super pleasant towards her. From the outside looking in, when they were in those four walls of their suburban home, they seemed to be the ideal, happy family.

But when they'd get to school, or out downtown to fight crime, or to one of their friends' houses, the truth would out. The complaints or grievances would come thick and fast.

It was beginning to feel like life at home was one big charade. Blossom was finding herself yearning to be anywhere but there all the time. It wasn't a nice feeling.

So as had become the norm for her in the past week, Blossom was the first out the door to head to school. She was early, she was aware - too early in fact. But she'd head to Brick's first and fly in with him, or go to the library at school and pass the time there before school started. The tiny, rebellious voice in the back of her mind that seethed and ranted about Esmé and what she was doing to her family told her to get out of that house as soon as she could; today she couldn't ignore it.

Just as she was about to take off into the sky, she noticed their mailbox was hanging open; a couple of letters sticking out. She paused, hovering over to retrieve the mail, deciding to take it back inside quickly before heading off to school.

Sifting through the letters, she noticed a couple were for her. She didn't often get mail, so felt a little stumped. What were they? One was typed, with an official looking stamp, the second handwritten. After surveying the typed letter more, her stomach dropped when she saw 'Townsville Juvenile Correctional Facility' on the return address.

With quivering hands, she opened that letter first, reading through it rapidly. It was a visiting order. From Melvin. The letter was informing her she was on Melvin Meeks' visitor list, and it detailed the visiting days and times. He wanted her to come and visit her.

She couldn't believe the audacity of him. How brazen he was, to think she would want to come and see him.

Or was it more his delusion? How absolutely deluded he was.

Either way, it wasn't happening. She brought the second letter to the top of the pile now, opening it with still shaking hands.

The letter was handwritten just like the envelope. And it was from Melvin. He'd written her a letter. He went on and on about how much he missed her, and how he couldn't wait to see her soon. He told her how he cut out pictures of her from the Townsville Tribunal to decorate his room with, and promised her they would one day return to their 'island of love' to elope together as was planned and start a life and a family together.

He was mad. He was insane. How could he possibly think any of that was going to happen? How could he think that had been the reality of the Cayman Islands? It was all wrong. It was nonsense.

She felt uncontrollable panic rise through her as the trembling in her hands spread across her entire body. Her surroundings began to blur; her chest was tight, she couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe.

Suddenly she felt lightheaded and like everything was spiralling out of control around her.

She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to go back there; she didn't want to elope, she didn't want to see him. She just wanted it to stop. She'd thought it was over. She just wanted it to be over.

A light film of sparkling ice began to cascade up her arms as she felt self control slipping through her fingertips. Where did she go? What did she do? She couldn't breathe. She didn't want to go inside. If she went inside, they would know that this was happening to her, and then everyone would know she was weak. Everyone would know she wasn't coping as well as she wanted to be.

But she felt as though if she stayed there, out on the front yard, she might die. If she stayed there, he might make her see him and she couldn't see him. She just couldn't.

The more that thoughts like that raced through her mind the tighter her chest grew and she began to hyperventilate.

The thought of someone finding her like this made her feel even worse, so she staggered towards the side of the house, trying to get down to the backyard, leaving a trail of ice in her wake. But she didn't make it. Her knees buckled and she fell down against the wall of the house.

She hugged at her knees, feeling the ice spraying from her fingertips and feet, hot tears hitting her cheeks as she choked and spluttered and tried to catch her breath. She'd completely lost control.

A whooshing sound, followed by a thud resounded nearby. But it was lost on Blossom, she couldn't hear anything but her racing heartbeat, like a pounding drum in her ear.

Boomer had just landed on the Powerpuff residence's front lawn, ready to pick Bubbles up so they could fly to school together.

The icy path, left like a trail across the yard, had distracted him. It seemed totally out of place, it hadn't snowed - and to snow so specifically?

It was too thin to be snow anyway. More like ice. The moment the thought came to him, the pink puff came into his mind. "Helloo?" He called, feeling a bit stupid. "Is anyone there?"

Curiously, he followed the trail, finding Blossom, curled into a frosty ball tucked down the side of the house. She looked distraught, and as though she wasn't present. She was taking long, laboured breaths and staring dead ahead.

"Blossom? Blossom - are you okay?" He approached her rapidly, bending down beside her. "What happened? Are you - I'll call someone, I'll get Bubbles - Bubbles!"

"No! No - please - I can't, I can't - don't. I can't c-catch my breath!" She panted hastily. She was trembling all over, but he came to realise it wasn't from the thin layer of frost running up her arms and legs.

"Hey, hey - it's okay, Blossom, it's okay!" Boomer said, placing his arm on her back and almost recoiling at how cold she felt.

"I don't w-want to s-see him. Please don't m-m-make me see him. Please. I can't." She stammered, her rose eyes filled with fright; he'd never seen the pink puff look so terrified.

"See who? Blossom what happened? Uhh, I should really call someone -" He'd glanced behind him at his words; she brought his attention back to her when she clutched a hold of the arm of his coat tightly, panic in her eyes.

"No please, don't. Just, just please, please don't." She stammered. "I, I, can't, I can't breathe."

Boomer had a light bulb go off in his head as it dawned on him what was happening to the pink puff. And it just happened to be an area he had some level of expertise in.

Noticing the crisp pieces of paper in her hands, Boomer carefully took them from her, allowing her to continue to clutch ahold of his coat. Quickly, his cobalt eyes scanned them both, and he frowned deeply. "Blossom, listen to me, okay? Everything's okay, I promise. Can you hear me breathing?"

She nodded helplessly.

"Breathe with me, okay? In, and out. In, and out."

"I can't, I - I can't f-focus." She began to stammer, the panic rising in her voice. "I'm sorry - I know it's stupid, I'm sorry -"

"Hey hey, it's all good - okay, lets count. Yeah? Count to three slowly as you breathe in, then count to three slowly as you breathe out." He instructed calmly. After a few haggard breaths, her breathing steadied, and she leant against him more, her arm travelling up his towards his back to steady herself.

Gingerly, he moved his arm further around her back, allowing her to rest against him properly. "Is this okay? Or - or do you want some space?" She clutched at his coat in response. "Sometimes I want holding when this happens to me, sometimes I need space. And it kinda sucks when I wanna cuddle and it's only my brothers around - they're not exactly huggers. I mean, Brick'll hug you, but you're probably about the only person. And Butch's hugs just hurt. It's not worth it."

He heard a small, hiccupy chuckle, and he exhaled with relief.

"Do you wanna go back inside?" Boomer suggested. After a couple of seconds she silently shook her head. The thought of Esmé seeing her like this filled her with dread. "Has this happened before?" She nodded. "Does anyone know?"

The pink puff shook her head no again. "I d-don't want anyone to know."

Boomer frowned. "Does Brick know?"

She nodded once more. "But he thinks it's not h-happening anymore. I told him it was a one off."

The blonde ruff's brow furrowed. "You think this makes you weak?"

After a couple of seconds, she nodded.

He sighed lightly. "I know how you feel. I've had panic attacks on and off for years. They started in the Underworld. I think I was in a constant state of panic when we first started living there. I get how you're feeling, but it's not a weak reaction. Just a human one. Sometimes when everything just gets too much, when there's too much shit to process, it can be super intense." She didn't reply but was still clutching onto him appreciatively. "Wanna come to ours till you've cooled down? Pardon the pun."

She nodded once more, pulling herself upright more and letting go of his coat to wipe at her face. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. That was so silly - so silly of me, I'm sorry." Reality had dawned on her of what was happening and she suddenly felt very embarrassed and vulnerable.

"It's nothing, really."

"Boomer."

"Hmm?"

"Thank you." She murmured. He nodded, getting up and extending his hand to her to pull her upright.

Once she was standing he let go, and in a flash of pink and dark blue they flew off towards the Rowdyruff apartment; neither of them noticing Esmé peering outside through the living room window nearby, a devious expression fixed upon her face.

---

Brick opened the door to their bathroom, wearing nothing but his boxers and a towel on top of his head that he was scrubbing his hair dry with.

"Are you finally up? This is early for you." Brick commented, having heard someone was out in the living area but not knowing who it was. He was assuming it was Butch, given that Boomer had left to pick up Bubbles on his way to school.

When he pulled the towel off his head, his hair sticking up every which way, he was surprised to see Blossom sitting at their dining table, a small smile on her face that she'd not been able to hold back at the sight of his wild, freshly washed hair - and lack of clothes.

"Oh, hey -" He said, stopping when Boomer appeared and placed a cup of coffee down on the table in front of her. Brick grew confused; Boomer had left for school - why was he home again? His scarlet eyes noticed the thin layers of frost settled on Blossom's coat and began to put two and two together - well, he could decipher that something had happened, in the least. "Are you okay?"

Shakily, Blossom nodded, her hands gripping the cup and enjoying the warmth. Boomer pulled up a chair beside her. "The comedown is the worst. Really takes it out of you sometimes."

Brick now knew what had happened. He frowned deeply, as Blossom looked down into her cup. "Blossom, you should have called me."

"I couldn't really - I wasn't able to do a lot at all, to be honest…" She stammered, blushing lightly from the embarrassment of it all.

His shoulders drooped. She'd said it was a one off. Clearly it wasn't. What the hell had caused it? "Was it just out of the blue?"

"She was out on their front yard, holding these. I only found her cos I was there to pick up Bubbles." Boomer explained, holding the letters out for Brick to see. He hovered over and took them, his crimson eyes flashing with anger as he read them.

"Blossom, nobody is going to make you see him, okay? You don't ever have to see him again. Fucking piece of shit thinking you'd actually want to go and visit him. And his personal letter? He's fucking insane."

"I know." She mumbled. "I just panicked, I guess."

"Of course, it's fine. But this, it means nothing, okay?" Brick said, producing a small but efficient flame in his hand which burnt the letter to nothingness. "It's over, he can't get to you and he won't."

She nodded. "Yeah, you're right, I know."

Brick pulled the chair beside her up, reaching for her hand and stroking it gently. "Thanks for bringing her here, Boom."

He shrugged. "No big deal."

"Is this the first one since the Cayman Islands?" Brick queried, and she nodded.

"Yeah, I think so. I've had almost moments, but nothing like that since we were still there…"

"You should tell your family. If one kicks in when you're home with them, they're gunna find out anyway. Why not just let them know so they can help you?" Boomer suggested, and she shrugged.

"I'm fine, really. It's not a big deal. Home doesn't feel like home at the minute anyway. The Professor likely won't even hear me, what with Esmé consuming all his attention… Anyway, does Bubbles know you suffer from them?" Blossom asked with a cranked eyebrow.

Boomer sucked his lips between his teeth. "Well, no. But, I've not had one for years. Guess I've had my shit together better since being with her. Life's better, that's for definite. Anyway, speaking of the very reason my life is better - I should go pick her up, I'm late."

Blossom smiled a grateful smile. "Thank you, Boomer."

"Don't sweat it. Are you sure you don't want me to talk to Bubbles for you?"

"No. I just, I don't want -"

The blue ruff interrupted her. "I get it. But, think about it. It'll make things easier, and they'll want to know. Just so they can look out for you, like Brick and Butch do me. Well, like Brick does me. You know as well as I do how calming those arms are when they're cradling you gently." He grinned at his redheaded brother, who rolled his eyes, but smirked. "Those cold red eyes can be oh so soothing."

"I have never cradled you, you absolute fool."

"And he's modest, too. See ya!" Boomer cried, before disappearing out the door that led to the balcony in a bolt of blue.

Blossom turned to her counterpart with a smile that Brick was glad to see. He held her hand tightly and gave it a squeeze. "Seriously, I've helped him through his panic attacks, but I've never cradled him."

She giggled at him in response.

---

r&r (: