Flawless Execution – Pierce the Veil

Part of Blood Series – 3/3

I know this series did not go as smutty as I originally planned and that's mainly due to the school theme I tried to focus on but not have it be set in actual school but that immediately changed with "Cut" LOL! For those who didn't catch it, Brick and Blossom were never in school! They were simply roleplaying. They are in an office and she is his secretary, that is why she is going over tests with him, it's like supposed to be a schedule but you know what! I simply can't write all of that in a fanfiction, I will just get carried away. I MEAN LOOK AT THIS! IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE BOOMER YOU LOVE BUBBLES- THE END! Anyway... now that I've taken advantage of an A/N, enjoy and I can't wait for the next series to pop into my head... PS I am totally into the pedagogy theme sticking around, no shame! OH AND NO THIS WILL NOT BE EDITED BECAUSE I HAVE LIKE 50 PAGES OF COURSE TEXT I HAVE TO READ AND THE BLUES HAVE SET ME BACK! ;~;

Scarred

"What are you doing, freak!"

Used to that word for the simple fact that it defined him without elaborate explanation, Boomer never let anyone get close enough to study him further. Describing him beyond that would be hard for anyone to nail perfectly. There were two who could have seen past this exterior: his brothers. He thought it many times over if he would ever allow it.

"Freak, quit picking up that shit off the floor!" Said one of his brothers, Brick, who used that word more freely than the other one. That didn't mean the other one, Butch, wouldn't follow Brick's lead with it.

Butch snickered, "Why are you such a freak, Boomer?"

Currently kneeling toward the ground—hearing the sound of their teasing—Boomer stopped himself in the act of picking up Brick's fallen cigarette. The cigarette slowly burned away on the ground.

A disappointed Brick said, "Can't believe you want to pick up litter. It's used up. Let's go get some more. Where should we steal them from?"

That wasn't the case and Boomer didn't hold back this argument, "I wasn't picking up litter, I just thought you accidentally dropped it!"

"So what if I did, it's still litter."

Butch dropped his finished soda can and said with a snicker, "You gonna pick that up?"

Amused, Brick slapped Butch's back. An internal rage fired in Boomer. Reddened with anger, he picked up the soda can and flung it at Butch's head. It bonked him like a rock and he looked to Boomer with a scowl.

Brick, unable to contain his hilarity, held himself at the stomach. "He's still picking up litter!"

It was now Butch's turn to aim the soda can at Boomer. Doing this made Boomer point at him, like a child about to tattletale. "You're picking up litter!"

Scrunching up his face, Butch glared at him. "At least I'm not a freak!"

Brick put an end to their immaturity with a shout, "Silence, sissies! I decided where we'll go to get my next smoke." Boomer made to join them but Brick said, hand flat in front of him, "Not you, freak. You'll just leave a tip and think I don't know you're buying what I'm stealing. This is a robbery not a charity call."

Before he could argue with Brick on this, his two brothers were in flight. They left him behind. Dirt kicked up in the air as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. Letting his brothers get to him would only turn him into a tear stricken freak. It happened before when he was younger and they never let him forget those tears.

They laughed at him as he cried but his tears were a fury in need of unleashing. To show them he wasn't a weakling, he wanted to pummel his brothers. But two against one was never a fair fight. They were relentless, beating him down to a shaking boy in a corner. Whatever insults they came up with Boomer willingly faced so as to not let them get to him.

Freak was the one word he heard the most frequent. Not only from his brothers but from everyone around him. At school, home, and to the outside world, Boomer was known as a freak. Born a Rowdyruff had its own expectations. He was supposed to be an evil mastermind or an uncontrollable beast.

Instead, he was neither. Next to his brothers, he was the freak. There was a spark that lacked in him to get the Powerpuff Girls unprepared for their next scheme or to take them on all at once without being close to defeat. He knew how to face and punch a Powerpuff. Those were all the identifying parts of him as a Rowdyruff. Being the freak was the integral part of him.

At least, that's what he came to accept. But he knew that implied there was a flaw. Exactly what that flaw was evaded him. Some time had passed and his brothers surely weren't coming back for him. Having ditched him again, Boomer decided to fly home. Once there he could hear Brick and Butch playing video games inside.

They were gunned down by the enemy and Butch threw the controller. "I'm tired of this game."

Tossing his own controller, Brick stood up. "Me, too. Get ready, Boomer, we're going into town."

By Brick's command, the three flew into town. Chaos erupted as they split up to disturb the peace. Boomer crashed into a nearby grocery store, creating a mess of the neatly kept shelves. Unsurprisingly, he didn't get to do further damage because he was met with the Powerpuff Girls.

"Hey, freak!" Buttercup interrupted him, "Stupid of you to think you could win this solo. Should've learned your lesson the first time."

This was indeed a lost fight. He needed to retreat. The girls were ordered by Blossom, "Get him!"

Blocked by the three of them from all escape routes, the time to retreat successfully was no more. Just then, his brothers busted into the scene. Both sides now properly balanced the fight became fair. And fight they did against their respective counterparts.

Through the years having fought her, he was used to her movements. Mostly all of their fights went the same. Body flying into a wall then sliding down onto his bottom, the opportunity to serve him justice presented itself. Hugged by the waistband of her cheer skirt as it flapped in her haste she seemed to be coming at him to do just that. A desperate energy shot at his legs.

Prepared to combat her next attack, Boomer's fists swung at the ready. Not a single one ever hit her. Those missed punches appeared as spirited as a prep rally full of pom poms. Routinely used to picking up on this pattern, Bubbles expertly avoided each one. Justice may have been delayed but it nonetheless was served properly.

On his bottom, unable to snap back up in time, Boomer's world went black. However long he lay on the cold floor passed by in an instant. Slowly, he came to with the distant sound of chuckles. The world was still dark but he was sure he wasn't unconscious anymore. Stomping footsteps approached him.

Peering his eyes open as much as he could through the swelling pain a blurred Butch came into view. "Jeez, Boomer. She got you real good."

Boomer could only groan in response. Consciousness brought about the full extent of justice. It was unpleasant and uncomfortable. Lastly, it was painful—extremely painful. There was a few more hours left of this agony. Healing the bruises caused by a Powerpuff was never a quick process.

Even with half open-eyes and blurry vision, Boomer couldn't make out the signs of justice on either of his brothers' faces. Brick knelt down to his level and steadied Boomer's face in his hand. Forced to face him, Boomer winced in Brick's rough grip.

Brick's question came coldly and threateningly, "Don't you remember what I said about letting a Powerpuff win?" Constricted in Brick's hold Boomer gave a short nod. "Learn how to win. Or else."

Relaying this warning was all that mattered to them. Left alone on the floor in his drawn out recovery, Boomer's cheeks felt the wet lines of bitter defeat. That Powerpuff had got to him and reminded him he was a freak. Whatever flaw made him a freak, it was now crucial that he figure out what is was. That was the only way to learn how to win; it was the only way to not let her get to him ever again.

In the days that followed, Boomer avoided his brothers. They never cared to include him before so this went unnoticed. His time was spent at the arcade but these trips had nothing to do with fun. The games he used to play were no longer played the same way. He focused on his aim with fake guns, tested his strength at the punching bag, and used the motorcycles to sharpen up on his agility.

After a week, the result from all of it was as he expected. Physically, he was fine. But he needed to take it a step further. Gaming was only the beginning to figuring out his freakish flaw. Simulating his power now needed to be tested in the real world. Going after the Powerpuff Girls alone would be setting himself up for failure.

They were not always together however and Boomer knew that from the times Brick would order them to ruin their days, he would find her alone and always at the same place. He popped a piece of gum in his mouth and flew off to Townsville High. As he arrived, he heard the bell ring once and then twice, and like a siren, she appeared.

Dressed in her cheer uniform, surrounded by other girls, Bubbles waved her arms in the air. Aftershocks of her sharp movements bounced her breasts under her tight tank top. The other girls watched her as they mimicked her moves. Everything was going normally until one of the girls noticed the plane in the sky had dived down and was headed straight for them.

The wind pick up around Bubbles as it rose up to brush her thighs and lift her skirt before her entire body was pushed forcibly into it. Kicking her nearly redeemed him had it not been for how quickly she reacted. In seconds that Powerpuff strength had her on her feet. Hazy fists came in a flurry at him. Combat carried on with kicks and swings that were too fast to be seen by onlookers.

For the Rowdyruff and Powerpuff, the throws were clear to their naked eye. Some throws landed from each side but that only heated the battlefield. Intensity had risen as the fight went on that neither one noticed the others had already joined or what came out of the straight tare down the middle of Bubbles' tank top.

But it was too big of a sight to go completely unnoticed. First it caused them to stay where they were; Bubbles on her back on the ground; Boomer above her with only a ray of sunlight between them. The fist he aimed perfectly to land on her face had somehow landed in the ground beside her head.

Scrambled reasons tried to flood his mind. They were drowned out by the only obvious one: diversion. While arcade guns had a single scope, his were better equipped with crystal clear vision and he carried two. Unsteadily trying to lock onto unrecognizable targets his scopes swayed rapidly and never focused on just one.

A new kind of intensity arose on the battlefield. It tingled as it spread onto their faces. To make it worse, he was unable to turn away. He committed a crime completely new to him. Justice needed to be served. As she framed his face in her hands, she had him where she wanted him. She hit him with a powerful slap that came close to cracking his neck and threw him off her.

Every part of him that hit the ground felt like bones breaking. He lay there fully awake and alone. Containing the feeling of defeat was hard to do. Sprawled on the ground proved the time spent at the arcade taught him nothing. Still a freak with no clue of his own flaw, Bubbles had yet again won this battle.

Brick and Butch didn't question Boomer over the outcome of the last battle in the days that passed. From their observations, Boomer was functioning fine. When Brick would bark orders, Boomer would instantly listen. If Butch needed a soda, Boomer would immediately bring him one. Everything seemed completely fine on the outside.

So fine that Brick began to became suspicious. Never did he pay attention to Boomer before but his sudden eagerness to do whatever they said was beginning to feel strange. Boomer would at least try to save himself some dignity before. All of his defensive retorts were now submissive compliance.

This pathetic behavior had reached a final straw when Brick ordered Boomer to his personal door mat and Boomer was on the floor without a single objection. "Get your ass off the floor! Since when did you ditch being a freak for a dog!"

Butch, having witnessed Boomer's shameful act, said, "Just when I got used to having a personal maid. You couldn't hide it long enough from Brick, go figure!"

"Hide what? I'm not hiding anything!" Faster than they could blink, Boomer was off the floor, running over his words.

Shaking his head, Butch waited for Brick's outburst. Officially, Brick was their leader. That naturally meant he was the one in charge and looked over everything that they did. Hiding anything from Brick, even the small, inconspicuous things, was the same as betrayal.

"Spill it." It was not an order. Brick's daggers were sent Boomer's way and they threatened death.

Up until that point, Boomer had listened to every one of Brick's order without a single thought. There was now too much blank space in his mind that overflowed with one memory.

"You ain't got much time left!" Butch warned. Brick's aura turned a deadly black.

Boomer had no other choice. "I fucking saw her tits!"

Butch seethed, "You went through my magazines?"

Just as he was about to finally defend himself, Boomer realized the saving grace Butch granted him. "Yeah, I went through your magazines, you got a problem with that?"

Like true brothers once more, they began to go back and forth over privileges to such glorious content. Brick raised a brow at this entire situation. Surely, it made sense. They always ditched Boomer when it came to strip clubs. With this, Brick ordered silence among them. And Boomer didn't look to be too pleased with having to listen. Things were back to normal, now.

If only it were truly that simple. After nearly confessing, Boomer stayed locked up in his room for days. His brothers passed this on as Boomer finally being exposed to the wonders of privacy. Mojo even looked at him differently when they would pass in the hall when he had to leave for necessary reasons.

As the toilet flushed, Boomer stared at himself in the mirror. He recognized himself on the outside. Lowering his eyes to his hips, he could see what had changed. Desperate and uncomfortable in his jeans, he started the shower.

He had no need for the hot water. His entire body was on fire and the cold, harsh water seemed to evaporate off his skin. Extinguishing the fire came to him from all he had learned years ago when he first seen how his body reacted to Butch's magazines.

For years he had been well aware of Butch's so-called hidden stash. The women were fully exposed. Some of them were in positions Boomer couldn't even comprehend. Their flexibility was exotic. As much as he tried to, he couldn't recall their faces nor their bodies, and he had seen every inch of them.

She's a cheer leader so she's definitely flexible, Boomer thought. A sudden explosion came through the wall of the shower and the water pipe burst with immense pressure. Eyes closed, Boomer finally opened them, seeing that the explosion had never went through the wall. It was all in his head.

Anywhere outside his room became a danger zone. Staying home used to be boring. Boomer would pass the time playing games or eating junk, waiting for Brick to order them to go outside. Responsibility was a foreign term to him and his brothers. They never attended school but they knew its schedule.

That was solely due to the Powerpuffs. Brick didn't like to keep the Powerpuffs waiting when it came to having their day ruined. As of late, Brick hadn't ordered them to mess with the girls. Boomer came to know of these breaks as a grace period.

He knew Brick liked the element of surprise. He had an eye for observations. Despite knowing this, Boomer scolded himself for thinking he could get away not having to tell Brick about that day. Brick knew almost everything about the Powerpuffs and their routines.

That's why Boomer followed his lead. There were only rare occasions in which Brick missed the mark but there were so many more that he came out on top of. As Boomer flew under Brick's lead, headed for Townsville High, the trust was overridden with doubt. Gulps of wind filled his gut with the hot summer air.

Brick stopped above the school. "Alright, lets split!"

The signal to move was given. Rather than diving, he was sinking. The farther down he dove the closer she became. In an ocean so deep it seemed endless she was at the very bottom. By the time he reached her there was no more oxygen left.

He crashed with her into the field and their bodies dragged across the dirt and grass. Fresh, dark dirt surrounded them. Boomer lifted his head to observe her. Dirt covered her blonde pigtails like soot and freckled over her face. It fell into the dip of her breasts and wherever it was past the collar of her tank top was plastered all over Boomer's mind.

He didn't expect her to speak underwater, but she did. "Don't look at me like that!"

He had no oxygen to respond. She seemed to be running out of it.

"It makes me not want to hurt you. So go away before I don't have a choice."

Coming off of her, he considered listening to her. Observing her as she wiped her face of the dirt, something dark remained underneath. Clenched up fists began to shake at his sides.

She now sounded full of breath, "Please, Boomer. I don't want to fight today. You win."

I win, Boomer thought. Victory was his to take. Time was ticking down and Boomer couldn't waste anymore time deep in the ocean or else he'd drown. Only Brick could give signals to engage or retreat. Yet here he was, flying away—retreating.

Winning did not include running away. This was his first victory that was clearly determined. He was deeper in this ocean than he thought, but he could see the sun. His body was rising to the surface. With her gone, he was above the water. What did it even matter being above the water—safe—if his face was still wet?

Brick brought Boomer into a choke hold and Butch's fist meet his face. His eyelids were tightly closed upon feeling the contact. Unfazed, he slowly blinked open his eyes. Brick's arm was around his shoulders and Butch's fist certainly touched his face.

This exact feeling from his brothers was so rare it was almost unknown to Boomer. They had just given him a hug and a tap. Brick pushed him away when the silence echoed.

"Gotta give it to you. You did good, freak. "

Boomer, unsure of the feeling that lingered and what caused Brick's praise, asked, "What did I do?"

This made the boys bend over in laughter. Butch took Boomer by the shoulder. "I forgot you were stupid, too!" Boomer ripped his hand off his shoulder.

"For real?" Brick mocked.

Now they turned the warmth into a blaze. Boomer scoffed, "What did I do make you guys get all weird on me?"
With a now serious look, Brick answered, "Since you turned the tide in our favor."

The blaze now turned blue. Dancing in its flames, clad in a skin tight outfit that began so low that the parts of her he knew nearly burst out the seams, she began to take over his mind. Always in a skirt, he could envision her bare legs leading her toward him. She was coming to serve justice. The type of justice his wicked, freakish mind couldn't erase.

"You sent her crying all the way home, too, I bet!" Butch laughed.

Brick started to laugh, but it died out quickly. "Hey! Pay attention!" He had Boomer's attention now. "This is the time to make our move! We now are even with those Powerpuffs because you finally learned how to pull your own weight! I even got all sissy for you to get you pumped but you look like this is the worst thing that happened! Don't think I haven't figured it out! I know what makes you a freak."

Brick angled his eyes at Boomer. "You're both freaks. No surprise, we're made after those sissies, anyway. But she's the worst of them. I know you're better because you don't care as much like she does. I made sure to snap that out of you. If I gave you that stupid mommy love that Powerpuff gives her, you'd be nothing but a wimp! You're tougher than she is, Boomer. You're a Rowdyruff and you're my brother, even if you're a freak. In the end, we get what we want. We don't lose."

Boomer knew he heard it as much as Butch did. Pointing it out would be the worst thing for Brick, so Boomer kept quiet. Butch seemed to think the same. This feeling was rare but it was there in Boomer.

Rowdyruff was his identity and freak was the integral part of him. Although he wouldn't of minded if Brick was like this all the time, he knew that in the times that he was, it was special. It was such because he was a freak. These little things mattered to him.

Brick was right: Boomer did care. He wasn't a serious leader or a powerful fighter, he was the balance. His brothers were cold and heartless. But with Boomer, they could find reasons to show a side they didn't share with anyone else. It wasn't perfect but it was the best they could do.

"Boomer! Hurry up before we ditch you again!" Butch shouted.

This was his chance. This was the time to win. He just had to face her and do what Rowdyruffs were meant to do when they came across a Powerpuff.

Brick proved to be on top of the Powerpuffs as he lead them to the exact spot they gathered. They weren't alone, whatever event was occurring brought back all the students out late at night. Butch asked if they were planning to crash the party but Brick shook his head.

"We're here for those Powerpuffs. We get them out of the game first and then we take Townsville for all its worth." He said.

The plan was now laid out for them. Butch pointed down at them as they entered the building. "They're going to get away!"

"No they're not. Looks like you're right, afterall, Butch. We're crashing this party. But not like this. I want to see those Powerpuffs never see this coming." Brick suddenly took flight and they followed.

They crashed into a closed men's suit shop and at the sense of movement, the store lights flickered on to reveal the many rows of suits. Displayed on three individual mannequins, special lights highlighted the signature colors peeking from beneath the black blazers. Those colors were their callings.

Brick remarked, "They say to dress nice to a funeral, right, boys?"

Now on the same track, their faces twisted with smirks. They stole the suits off the models and transformed into sleeker versions of themselves. Boomer could only recognize himself by his distinct outward spiky blonde hair. Any of his healed scars were covered by the sleeves and collar of his black suit. Black brought out the colors of his unique, dark blue eyes. He was born out of a toilet but his appearance flushed clean his origin.

At Brick's signal the boys headed back. Properly suited up properly for the pompous event in which the Powerpuffs' downfall was the main act. Determinedly focus on the plan and its certain success now that Boomer's head was in the game. Showtime was now or never to show Brick he had learned how to win.

Passing through those same doors felt like the moment of a lifetime. Dim lights helped to obscure the boys' identities as they scanned the dancers and side liners for the Powerpuff Girls. Because there were more students dancing than not, Butch spotted Buttercup and separated first. Soon after him was Brick, who snapped to Blossom from the largest crowd among the dancers.

Many blonde girls came in and out of his view. They turned at the feel of his intense eyes. His fitted suit kept their eyes glued but not one of them deserved a second glance from his direction. The upbeat music began to fade. Through the sea of girls he parted his way past ever one of them. As the music came to a stop and a new one began, she seemed to appear at the very back of the dance floor.

Flowing in blonde waves down her back, her dress glittered under the white, soft lights. Her dress was blue and fair and it hugged her body. She was alone which was perfect. No one would notice if he took her away.

She didn't stay however. Once he came close enough, she swam off. On foot, he chased after her. Running was nothing to him. Used to flying, he had great speed whenever running took over. In the dark pathways behind the dance floor, running felt more like swimming. He didn't spend too much time in the water but his arms didn't move as much whenever he ran.

He lost her. Had it not been for the door that she ran through not being shut all the way, he wouldn't have a single clue to where she had gone. The pathways were dark, but inside the room, it grew darker. A sound followed behind him and this time, the click made sure the door was now shut all the way.

Step by step, he moved backwards until he stood his ground. Any joke by any student wouldn't be taken nicely by a Rowdyruff. After dealing with this unlucky student, he would get straight back to finding her. The light, a single hanging bulb, turned on.

The room didn't need too much brightness. It was lit enough and was smaller than his bedroom. A clear difference being that in his bedroom, she was never there. In this room, she was standing in front of him, dressed in that blue, captivating gown. A slit in her dress came up one leg, inviting his eyes upward.

"You're looking at me." She said.

Boomer bit his lip. He shut his eyes, attempting to redirect his mind back to the plan.

"They call you a freak, don't they?"

He shot his head up at her. "Don't try to make talk with me. We don't talk. We fight."

The tapping of her heels was one by one, and although spaced out, it was still the sound of her coming closer. "Blossom and Buttercup say the same. They say freak and to stop crying."

"I don't care what they say about me!"

Directly under the light, the shadows that dipped in her collarbone and became lost between her breasts was also darkening every fold of her dress. The drapes on the front were low and revealed the highlight on each mound of cleavage.

"They don't say this about you, Boomer. It's me. I shouldn't be doing this, I know I shouldn't care, but to have finally have you look at me after all these years I fantasized about it, I can't help it. I wore a skirt everyday so you could look at my legs. I always took off my shirt at the end of school because I knew I'd see you and I wanted you to know how big they were. To me, you were always cute. I could forgive you for our fights."

Utterly speechless, Boomer froze. She reached behind him. "I've been waiting to win at last. You're finally looking at me. Now, please," her hand returned to her and in her clutch was rope, "Show me what it's like when you win."

In his frozen state, he watched her wrap the rope around a large pole and tie her wrists to it. Her arms raised up, accentuating the perfect s-line of her waist all the way down to her ankles. Her cute toes curled up as she brought her foot off the ground, posing in a way Boomer had only seen in magazines.

Realizing he was still struck, Bubbles sang in a soft, hushed whisper, "I want you to truly win this time."

With her hands tied, she was at his mercy. Slowly coming out of his shock, Boomer heard her soft, nervous breaths call out to him. The state she was now in was all his doing. She was restrained like a criminal. This was a crime and she was now waiting. Boomer had an idea of how to serve her justice. He was going to show her exactly what is was like when being bad had its consequences.

Her skin was untouched by any bruises. This fight was going to keep her that way. Taking hold of her exposed leg, he raised it up to his hips and ran his hand down the thickest part. A plump handful of delicate skin came into his hold and hitched her breath. He massaged as much as he could in his hand.

They shared childish kisses before, but the here and now called for something much more lustful. He had yet to kiss anyone, it simply wasn't part of his priorities. But a Powerpuff was all he lived for. Those lips, sparkling and glossy, seemed to belong to him for the fact that they were the only ones that existed to him.

He took them for all they were worth. She gladly gave him every taste of her lips. Against his mouth he moved all over them. He sucked on her bottom lips, rubbed his lip upon her top one and spread open her mouth. They were his once more, separated, yet complete.

Her moans glided on his tongue and went silent in his mouth. There were sounds that he couldn't silence. Her dress straps were ripped off and gracefully her dress draped off her body. He kept her lips as his as he won over the other parts of her.

His thumbs ran over her nipples without needing to look for them. They were in his visions for far too long to have forgotten their shape. In magazines, they never looked as soft as they felt. He wasn't used to such delicacy.

Something in him held him back from a squeeze or a pinch on skin so full. If his hands couldn't be rough, then another part of him had to, it was overcoming him. He left her lips and picked up her nipple with his tongue. It danced around his tongue before he lead it into his mouth.

She tried to be quiet but when she grew too loud, he let her scream into his mouth. Kissing her reminded her of the pleasure he brought and she calmed herself. He took her breasts in each hand and continued teasing her nipples, treating them like precious pearls. They were hard and pointed, but they made her weak and under his control.

Her breasts were perfect but they were all he'd known. Exploring more of her was now not just in dreams, she was presently nude, and beautiful in front of him. He wanted to ravage her, he could feel his wickedness rising at the sight of such a submissive Powerpuff. His traced over her body where his mind told him to grip her, hurt her, and destroy her.

He held her waist, shutting his eyes, doing all to take her out of his mind. When he took in her state once again, he felt his eyes grow darker. She seen the look in him fade. Tied to the pole, she began to fumble with the rope. It was coming loose when he stopped her, crushing her wrists in his hands.

"I'm not trying to run away, trust me."

"If I win, do you know what that means?"

Bubbles tried to find his eyes, but he had lowered his head. She said, "I want you to win."

"I'm here to end you, I can't be doing this. This isn't how I'm supposed to win." He dropped his hands from her wrists. Rare feelings seemed to hit him all at once. His brothers, his acceptance, and now, she was somehow causing him to feel things distant and unknown.

Her hands came up to frame his face. She had him where she wanted him. Eyes visible and full of shine, she could see how truly dark of a blue his eyes were. "I'm supposed to win, too. But I'm a freak. Blossom and Buttercup don't say it about you, they say it about me. I cry every time after we fight, seeing you hurt. They tell me to always win and not care about you. I want to win, but I want you to win, too. Being like this with you is like winning except I'm not hurting you, anymore. I told you, show me what it's like when you win."

Now it ran down his face clearly. She had gotten to him. In front of her, he did what he only did once before. He became a tear stricken freak, but she held him because unlike his brothers, she cared. He held her soft body, feeling something he never felt before.

Flawless.