"Bubbles, Blossom," Ms. Wednesday called the girls upstairs. "There's someone here I want you to meet."

Bubbles and Blossom exchanged a look.

"You don't think…" Bubbles trailed off.

Blossom sighed. "Let's go see."

During their short stay at Ms. Wednesday's house, the sisters barely said more than two words to their temporary caretaker. For the first couple days, she made a few (disingenuous, in Blossom's opinion) attempts to bond; offering to cook them their favorite meal for dinner, telling them over and over how extraordinary they were, how everything would be alright, etc. But Blossom had no intention of letting the woman who ripped her from her home try and cozy up to her.

As soon as the girls made it clear they weren't interested in bonding, Ms. Wednesday seemed to make it her mission to put the girls in a long-term foster home as soon as possible. Yesterday she told them that she had narrowed it down to two people; a childless couple from the other side of town and a retired professor.

"He's a professor, just like your father! And, he taught at Stanford! Isn't that impressive?" Ms. Wednesday said with a big smile. Blossom just shrugged her shoulders while Bubbles smiled politely.

As the two girls made their way up from the basement where they've taken to spend most of their time, Blossom frowned when she saw an older man standing beside Ms. Wednesday in the living room.

"Girls, I'd like you to meet Professor Nicholas Marlow," she said, gesturing towards the man.

The man reached his hand out in offering. "It's so nice to meet you girls. Ms. Wednesday has told me all about you two."

Blossom eyed the man up and down. He looked to be somewhere in his sixties, with dark auburn hair streaked with gray and green eyes. His lips curled into a smile that Blossom assumed he thought was friendly but showed a bit too much teeth.

"So, you're our new-" she swallowed the words foster father like bitter medicine. No, she wouldn't call him that, not outloud or even in her head.

"You're going to be staying with me for a while," he finished her sentence for her. His smile fell slightly, to something almost apologetic. "I know this isn't an ideal situation for you two, but I do hope that we can be friends, at the very least."

"Professor Marlow was professor of Child Psychology," Ms. Wednesday chimed in. "I don't doubt for a moment that you girls will be in good hands."

"Have you seen our dad?" Bubbles asked, turning toward Ms. Wednesday. "Do you know when we can see him again?"

Ms. Wednesday turned toward Bubbles with a strained grin. "I haven't heard anything from or about Professor Utonium, dear. But these things take time, and need to go through proper channels. If he can indeed prove himself to be a fit parent, I have no doubts that you and your sister will see him soon enough."

"Yes," Professor Marlow said. "Your well-being must be first priority. I'm sure your father understands that."

Blossom narrowed her eyes at him. "If you don't mind me asking, Professor Marlow, what made you decide to become a foster parent in the first place?"

Ms. Wednesday shot her a warning look, as if she was afraid Blossom's question would offend him, but he just smiled.

"I've always wanted children, but for years I was so absorbed in my work, and time slipped by. And now… I'm afraid that window of opportunity has long since passed me by. One of my close friends suggested I look into becoming a foster parent, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to help kids in need. When I heard the sad situation you girls were in after all you've done in your short lives, well, I requested the both of you to be put into my care specifically."

Blossom nodded, though still wasn't satisfied. "What are you doing in Townsville?" Blossom asked.

He smiled. "Is there something wrong with Townsville?"

"Well, no," Blossom said. "But I mean… if you were a professor at Stanford, why would you want to move all the way out here?"

"I wanted a fresh start," he shrugged. "After my retirement, I had no ties left in that area. My family had all passed or moved away years ago. Any friends I had had been made through my work, and they were all either still working or moved. I have a few former students I keep in touch with, but they all have lives of their own."

"And what about the Professor?" Blossom continued. "I mean, our professor."

"What about him?"

"What will you do when he gets custody back?"

"Blossom," Ms. Wednesday rebuked her.

"It's alright," Professor Marlow said. He smiled. "Why, I'll take you girls back myself."

Blossom raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

She had heard stories of nasty custody battles from other kids at school with divorced parents. The last thing she wanted was for this old man to use her and her sister like pawns.

"Of course," he said, looking at her not unkindly. "I'm here to help you girls. I want nothing more than for you to be safely reunited with your father."

Arturo looked down at his empty bowl and sighed. His stomach pleaded for more with a low growl, a plea he knew would most likely go ignored. His Mami, washing his sisters' dishes in the sink as they played a few feet away, noticed he was looking at her and turned to him.

"You done, Mijo?" she asked in Spanish.

He looked apprehensively at his bowl again before turning back to his mother.

"I'm still hungry, Mami," he said. "Can I have just a little bit more?"

Her deep brown eyes looked at him sadly. "Oh Mijo, I wish you could, but we got to save some for dinner tonight. You don't want to fill your belly now, just to go hungry later do you?"

Arturo turned his eyes downward. "No."

She sighed, grabbing a towel to dry her hands before walking towards him and kissing him on the forehead.

"Your Papi gets paid tomorrow and then I'll go shopping and make another batch. You'll be okay until then. You're my big strong boy, right?"

He couldn't help but snort at that. Conchita was bigger than him now, or close to it after her growth spurt. She seemingly took after their Papi in the height department, while he had the misfortune of taking after their mother, the shortest woman in town. Though what really gave them the most trouble was their green skin.

Not a single person would even consider hiring her. Everyone was convinced she was cursed by the Devil, and so was her family by association.

"Superstitious idiots," his Papi would spit whenever they went into town and would get dirty looks. He would look straight at him.

"There's nothing wrong with being different, Mijo. Don't let them get into your head."

Just then, his father walked into the kitchen, wearing his work uniform and his thick, dusty boots.

"Ay! How many times have I told you? Don't wear those in the house!" His mother grabbed her dish towel and smacked him on the arm. He laughed.

"I'm sorry, my love. I'm in a rush," He bent down and kissed her.

"If I find any footprints on my floor, you'll be cleaning them up yourself."

"Of course, of course." Wordlessly, he picked her up and showered her in kisses, causing her stern expression to melt. Arturo, completely forgotten about in his parents' love haze, was desperate for any excuse to leave.

"I'm going to be late for school," he muttered to no one in particular. He got up from the table and grabbed his bag, getting ready to head out the door.

"Now look at what you've done. You've made our son so uncomfortable he's begging to go to school."

His father looked at Arturo's blushing face and laughed. "You better get used to it, Mijo. One day, you're going to have a special lady of your own and you'll want nothing more than to kiss and hold her all day long."

Their laughter still rang in his ears even as their faces faded to dust. If someone asked him when the scene took place or how long ago it was, or if it was even a specific event, he wouldn't be able to tell them. It was an old, old memory; one that rang so deep in his subconscious it existed outside of time.

When he finally woke, it took a few minutes for him to realize where he was; in Cherry's living room sleeping on her couch. The smell of breakfast hung in the air, and once again he heard his stomach growl. He heard a sound coming from the kitchen.

"Cherry?" he asked as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

When the red-haired girl stepped out, no makeup and in an oversized T-shirt and shorts, his breath faltered.

"I was wondering when you'd wake up," she smiled. She gestured toward him with the mug in her hands. "I made a pot of coffee if you want some. There's some eggs and bacon left but you're probably gonna have to pop it in the microwave first. It's been sitting out for almost an hour."

It took him a second before he could respond. "T-Thanks," he stuttered. "I mean, for everything. You really helped me out, man."

She shrugged. "You helped me out, I figured I could do the same. And you don't seem like the type to have a bunch of severed heads at home in your freezer."

"Not the last time I checked," he laughed awkwardly. He cleared his throat. "I'll go ahead and grab something quick and get out of your hair. I'm sure you're busy."

She shook her head. "Today's my day off and I don't have anything in particular planned today. If you want to leave, be my guest, but don't feel like you have to rush out."

Arturo couldn't fight the smile that was beginning to grow on his face. "Yeah, I could stay for a bit."

They both made their way to the kitchen and Arturo made himself a plate, while Cherry sipped on her coffee.

"Since we had a bonding moment last night, I've got to ask," Arturo said. "Is Cherry your real name?"

She raised an eyebrow, amused. "Is Arturo yours?"

Arturo felt his face grow warm. "I just meant, I know a lot of ladies… who do what you do…"

"Strippers?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "That most of them use fake names when they're working."

She looked at him for a moment, as if she was sizing him up. "My real name is Carrie, short for Catherine. I was a bit worried that Cherry would be too close to my real name, but it felt natural with the red hair and everything. Almost no one calls me Carrie anymore though. Even the other girls I work with call me Cherry."

"Can I call you Carrie?"

She smiled warmly. "I wouldn't have told you otherwise."

Arturo liked that smile. Making it appear felt like opening presents on Christmas.

"How long have you lived in Townsville?"

"Just a few years," she said. "I'm originally from Citiesville."

"Hey, Ace is from Citiesville!" he said. "He hated it."

She grinned wryly. "We all say that everyone from Citiesville has the same goal; to get as far away from Citiesville as possible. Townsville's not as far as I'd like, but it's an improvement. Or, it was."

Arturo looked down before meeting her eyes again. "Where would you want to go?"

"I don't know," she shrugged her shoulders. "LA. New York. Europe. Japan. Maybe all of the above. Even if it sucks at least it would be a different kind of suck."

Arturo nodded. "I've lived here for most of my life, but I'm originally from a tiny little town in Mexico. More like a village, really. We had maybe three hundred people who lived there, max."

"That sounds suffocating," Carrie raised her eyebrows in sympathy.

"It was, but it wasn't the size. It was the people that were the problem," he took a bite of his food. "But, that's where my family is, and I'd do just about anything to see them again."

Carrie looked down at her mug. "I think of going back home sometimes too, but I don't know if they'd take me back. If my folks found out what I'd spent my time in Townsville doing…" she shuttered. "I don't even wanna imagine that talk."

Arturo laughed without humor. "Yeah, I don't think my folks would be super proud if they found out what I'd been up to either." he muttered.

Carrie raised her mug with a wry smile. "Here's to being the family disappointment."

Arturo gave her a questioning look, but she just pointed at his mug with her eyes. He grabbed it and raised it in the air.

"To being the family disappointment."

"It's a rough job, but someone's gotta do it."

They chuckled, and clinked their mugs together. When Arturo took a sip, it was the best coffee he had ever tasted.

"Do you prefer the red tie, or the blue tie?"

Ace frowned as Sedusa held up the stupid thing next to his face. "I told ya, I don't care about no stupid tie. Why do I even need one?"

Sedusa sighed in exasperation. After Charles paid him, the first thing she insisted on doing was buying him a suit for his interview with Mrs. Carlson.

"Like I told you," she said in a strained voice. "If you're going to be Mayor, you're going to need to start acting the part. You can't go on television to apologize to the Powerpuff Girls in your ratty jeans."

Ace cringed. "I still can't believe ya convinced me to do that. I'd rather eat broken glass."

"Well, you should've thought about it before you sent that brat into a coma. Hmm, I think you should go with the blue tie. You want to avoid wearing anything too aggressive."

At the mention of Buttercup, Ace frowned. "She still out cold?"

Sedusa shrugged as she tied the blue tie around his collar. "Last I heard. Why? Are you worried she'll wake up and try to kill you with a giant robot again?"

"Somethin' like that," Ace muttered.

"There," Sedusa said after she finished. She looked him up and down.

"It's a bit loose on you, but we can get it tailored. Other than that, it's passable enough for what we need. We might need to slick your hair back too. And lose the sunglasses, of course." She slided them off his face.

Ace looked at himself in the full length mirror that she stood him in front of. He looked nearly unrecognizable to himself. Together with Sedusa in her lawyer disguise, they could almost pass for the President and First Lady.

He frowned. The last time he wore a suit was at his mother's funeral.

"It feels stiff," he said. "I don't like it."

"You don't have to," she said. She placed her hand on his back and pushed him toward the dressing room. "Go on and get dressed so we can check out. I don't want to stay here all day."

As they bought the damn thing and stepped out of the department store, they both froze when they saw a police car rushing past them, its siren blaring out for all of Townsville to hear.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Ace muttered. He felt his heart beat thumping in his ears. "I'll never get used to that."

Sedusa, also looking towards the speeding car with wide eyes, regained her composure.

"Come on," she said. "Let's get out of here."

They made their way towards Sedusa's rental car, a bright red Mercedes parked a few feet away.

As they made their way back to the mansion, Ace's thoughts turned back to Snake and Charles.

"This is crazy, ain't it?" he asked out loud. "That two-faced bastard is paying us because he's too chicken to tell his family he wants Snake to rot."

Sedusa let out an exasperated sigh. "Are we really doing this again?"

"I'm just sayin," Ace said. "Like, can you imagine hatin' your kid enough to do somethin' like that?"

"Who cares?" Sedusa said. "If Ingleberry's family issues suits our needs, then more power to him."

Ace slumped over in the passenger seat as he turned to look at the window. "The only good thing about this shitshow."

After Sedusa parked the car in their driveway and they walked inside, Ace took the bag with his suit and tossed it on the floor. A squawk of indignation escaped from Sedusa's lips.

"Jesus, Ace!" she hissed. "You know how much that thing cost?"

"Relax. It's a suit. At worst it'll wrinkle," he snapped back. He made his way toward the phone in the living room. "I'm gonna call Tommy and see if he wants to go out for a drink."

"Ace-" she started, but paused when the front door opened, revealing a tiny green figure.

"Well well well. There's the little thief," Sedusa narrowed her eyes at Arturo.

Arturo looked up at her, surprised, before his expression turned to disgust.

"Al menos no soy una perra traidora," Arturo muttered under his breath. Sedusa narrowed her eyes.

"You want to repeat that in English? Or are you too chicken because you know I can kick you like a goddamned soccer ball-"

"Both of youse, cut it out!" Ace yelled.

Both Sedusa and Arturo looked towards him; Sedusa with her green eyes almost glowing with fury, and Arturo frowning before dropping his eyes to the ground.

"So," Ace said, sauntering towards him. "Ya decided to come crawlin' back after all, did ya? Where'd ya stay? The old shack in the dump?'

"I stayed at a friend's house," he said, finally meeting his eyes.

"A friend, eh?" Ace asked. "Since when do you got friends?"

Arturo glared. "Look man, I don't want to fight with you. I just…" he sighed. "I'm sorry, alright? I screwed up big time. I know that. I'll figure out a way to pay you back."

"Yeah, no shit," Ace snapped. "Ya lucky I'm even lettin' you come back here. Any one else would've kicked ya ass out."

Arturo's eyes widened before he looked down. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.

Ace sighed. "Whatever," he muttered. "It's done. Just… go upstairs and stay out of my sight."

Wordlessly, Arturo made his way upstairs, leaving Ace alone with Sedusa.

"You were right," Sedusa said. "You should've kicked him out."

Ace folded his arms and gave her a hard look. "Look, the kid did somethin' stupid. I'll keep an extra eye on him to make sure he don't do it again. I doubt he will. He's never stolen from the Gang before."

"You're soft," Sedusa sneered. "If someone pulled something like that against Mojo? He'd have turned him into a pile of ash the second they stepped in the door. I don't even want to talk about what HIM would've done."

"I ain't soft!" Ace snapped. "What the hell do ya expect me to do?"

"I expect you to be a man," she said. She got up real close to him, so that he was staring directly in her green eyes. "Let him know you're not gonna put up with his shit."

The drive to Professor Marlow's house was quiet and awkward. Marlow made a few attempts at lighthearted conversation, but once he figured out it wasn't going to be reciprocated, he thankfully didn't push the matter. Blossom looked over at Bubbles.

"Take care of your sister," her father's last words rang in her mind.

Blossom reached for her hand, and Bubbles gave her a sad smile. She had to give her credit; she had kept herself together much better than she would've expected.

"Here we are," Professor Marlow's voice rang out. He pulled into the driveway of a large, white two story suburban house with a red door.

He helped the girls unload their belongings from his trunk and into the house, and showed them where the bedrooms were.

"Now, it's up to you girls if you each want your own rooms or if you would like to share," he said.

Bubbles and Blossom exchanged a quick glance.

"Erm, we'd like to share if that's alright with you sir," Bubbles said.

Professor Marlow gave them a toothy grin. "Oh you sweet dear. You don't have to call me sir. You can call me Professor Marlow, just Marlow, or even Nick, if you feel so inclined," he laughed. "That's what my friends used to call me."

"We'd like to share," Blossom agreed with her sister.

Marlow gave her a curious look. "It's fascinating. You girls are nothing like-" he paused, his eyes wide. "I mean, you're much different than I thought you'd be. Most kids your age would kill to have their own rooms," he said.

Blossom furrowed her eyebrows. "Yeah, well, we've always shared a room," she said. "We're just more comfortable that way."

"Of course," he nodded, attempting to give her a smile. "I understand."

Blossom put the bag she was carrying on the ground. "You were about to say something else, weren't you?"

"What are you talking about, dear?"

"You were about to say that we were nothing like something," she said. "And then you cut yourself off."

"Oh," His eyes widened. "I just meant that you're nothing like most of the kids your age I've read about. Forgive me, it's been a while since I've worked directly with children your age. Mostly just college students begging for extensions on their papers and colleagues complaining about their students," he chuckled.

"Right…" Blossom said. "Well Bubbles, I'm thinking we take this room on the left," she gestured towards the large, fully furnished bedroom. "What do you think?"

"Ooh, I like that one!" Bubbles said as she stepped in and looked around. She smiled. "It's gigantic!"

Blossom picked up her bag and followed her sister inside. When she saw Marlow following behind her, she paused.

"Actually, I think Bubbles and I got this," Blossom said. "Right, Bubbles?"

Her sister looked back and forth between them.

"Uh, right."

"Oh," Marlow looked at them like a deflated balloon. "Well, if that's what you girls want, then I'll leave you be. I'll be in the kitchen making myself some tea if you need me."

After he walked away, Bubbles closed the door and turned to her sister.

"Don't you think that was kind of mean?" she whispered. "I think you hurt his feelings."

"I don't trust him Bubbles," she hissed under her breath. She grabbed her arm, pulling her closer. "Did you see how evasive he was? He's clearly hiding something."

"You don't know that."

Blossom gave her an exasperated look. "Bubbles, come on. He was acting totally weird!"

"Well…" Bubbles hesitated. "Even if he is, you don't know it's something bad. Maybe he's just a private person."

Blossom sighed. "Either way, I think we need to stay on our guard. Let's just stay clear until we figure out more information."

Bubbles shot a guilty look towards his general direction before nodding her head. "Okay. But we still have to at least try and be nice. I mean, he even decorated his guest room just for us."

Blossom looked around at the room. It was covered in blue, pink, and green with a large vanity against the wall, a shelf filled with books on the opposite end, and even a small movie collection, filled with everything from rom coms to horror films along with a TV and DVD player.

"I'll be civil," Blossom allowed. "As long as he doesn't try any funny business."

Later that night, Bubbles woke up to her stomach growling. It wasn't until then that she realized she hadn't eaten all day.

I guess I'll go see if there's any snacks down in the kitchen, she thought. She left the bed quietly, careful not to wake Blossom, and tip-toed out of the bedroom.

When she made her way downstairs and to the kitchen, she heard him before she saw him.

"You couldn't sleep?" Professor Marlow asked.

Bubbles jumped. "Oh! You startled me," she breathed. She put her hand to her chest, feeling the heartbeat drumming loudly beneath her fingers.

"Sorry," he apologized. He lifted up the porcelain cup he was drinking from. "Would you like some tea?"

"I just came down to get a snack. I forgot to eat earlier," she said. He nodded.

"Alright, suit yourself, dear. I just thought I'd ask since it helps me sleep. I have some apples in a bowl on the counter over there.

"Thanks," she said. As she walked over and grabbed one, she paused. The sweet, earthy smell of the tea filled the air.

"Well, maybe just one cup," she said. Professor Marlow beamed.

"Of course," he said. He got up and walked over towards the kettle, pouring it in a cup identical to his.

"Thank you," Bubbles smiled. Hesitantly, she took a seat at the table.

"So Bubbles," he said, sipping out of his cup. "How have you and your sister been adjusting?"

"Fine," Bubbles said, forcing a smile. "Everything is great, Professor Marlow. We love the room you decorated for us."

"I'm glad you like it," he said. "I decorated both rooms because I wasn't sure which one you girls would want. You're free to change things to your liking, of course."

"That's very nice of you," Bubbles said softly. She looked down and took a sip of her tea, but she could feel Professor Marlow looking at her.

"I want to let you know, I understand if it takes some time for you to adjust; you and your sister, or rather, sisters, have gone through a lot. It's only natural to be reserved," he said. "And I don't know what the relationship between you and your father was like, but even if he was… flawed, it still can't be easy to be taken away from him and forced to live with a stranger."

"The Professor wasn't flawed. He was kind and loving," Bubbles said, with a bit more force than she meant.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend," he assured her. "And if there's anything I can do to help make any of this easier, let me know."

Bubbles hesitated, Blossom's statement from earlier ringing in her mind.

"I don't trust him, Bubbles. Did you see how evasive he was? He's clearly hiding something."

Bubbles decided to take a chance and ask. When else would she have a chance?

"Before when we were picking our rooms, you sounded like you were going to compare us to someone. Someone specific?"

Professor Marlow's expression dropped for a second. "It was a slip of the tongue dear, that's all."

"Well…" Bubbles paused. "I just thought I'd ask because, like you said, we're strangers. And I just… wanted to get to know you, is all." She widened her eyes in the same way she did whenever she was trying to convince the Professor or one of her sisters to do something they didn't want to do.

Professor Marlow sighed. "I suppose a bit of transparency is good for building trust," he said. "But you must promise to not let this information leave this house. You may tell your sister if you wish, but no one else."

"What happened?" Bubbles leaned in, excitedly sipping her tea. She really only asked to convince Blossom to relax, but now she was fully engaged. "Who were you talking about?"

He put down his cup and gave her an amused look. "I was talking about my boys. Well, my late partner's boys. I still think of them as my own even though I haven't seen them in years."

"Your boys?" Bubbles asked, confused. "You said you never settled down."

"I might've… left out a few important details. I do apologize for that," he said. "But my partner and I were never married, and they weren't technically my kids. Though they were as good as," he said, looking down in contemplation.

"But after the accident… well, I don't want to go too much into depth, but I lost both him and our oldest that day. The other two were put into foster care," his expression turned grim. "I never got the chance to adopt them and my partner and I couldn't get married, so I had little more claim to them than a stranger would."

Bubbles sat there, staring wide eyed at Professor Marlow as she tried to take in his story. She almost felt guilty for bringing it up.

"I'm sorry Professor Marlow," she said. "I didn't know."

"It's okay, Bubbles. I didn't want to keep secrets from you, but…" he shrugged. "I suppose I didn't want to risk making you girls uncomfortable around me. Deceased children are always a heavy topic, and I know some people aren't too fond of the idea of two men being together."

"I had a girl in my class who was dating another girl," Bubbles offered. "She was really nice! Her girlfriend wasn't, but I don't think that had anything to do with her liking girls."

Professor Marlow chuckled. "Yes, we do tend to come in all shapes, sizes, and temperaments."

"I'm sorry you lost your boys," Bubbles said. "I hope you can see them again someday."

"I hope so too, Bubbles," he gave her a grateful smile. "And I promise I'll help reunite your family in any way I can. In fact," he paused.

"I was thinking of taking you and Blossom to visit Buttercup soon. Check to see how she's doing. Would you be alright with that?"

"Yes!" Bubbles' eyes lit up. "Oh, I've been so worried about her, and Ms. Wednesday said you might not let us visit. Thank you, Professor Marlow!" she sprung up from her chair and pulled him into a hug. He chuckled.

"Of course, dear," he said. "That's what I'm here for."

Translation: Al menos no soy una perra traidora: "At least I'm not a backstabbing bitch"

Lunartyk: Thanks! Yeah, it's been a while lol. I hope this chapter was worth the wait :D

Thanks to everyone reading! Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think!