I flew away from those idiots, those fools, swiftly and surely, off to my favorite spot in all of Townsville. I landed without a sound on the branch of the tree and sat down, causing the leaves to slightly shudder. I tucked my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them after flipping my hat around and pulling it down over my eyes. I needed time to sit here, time to think about my stupid brothers. They were being imbeciles, getting sucked into those Powerpuff's lulling stupor. I knew Boomer would fall, knew he would be the first to give in to the girls' wishes; he was weak, a cry-baby, the sensitive one. But nothing could have prepared me for Butch's betrayal. He was always tough, self-sufficient; a little crazy and hair-brained, maybe, but he was a soldier, never being insubordinate, following my instructions to the letter. He was forcing me to face life without him, without my best warrior, best bet at sure victory. If Butch went soft, our whole reputation was tarnished, our image flawed. We would be ruined. I glared at nothing in particular, trying to find a way to break my younger brother out of the trance he was in. But I knew it was futile.

It was all because of those stupid girls; and, by extension, that stupid Professor. I stopped, though, at that thought—if not for that man, I wouldn't be here. I grumbled, knowing I should be, if anything, grateful to that man, and that made me sick. How could the same person who created happy little goodie-goodies produce the world's greatest villain—who made us? It was definitely a screwed up circle.

However, I digress. It was still those girls' fault. Bubbles, who was so chipper and happy, practically forced my youngest and most naïve brother to be attracted to her; he was weak and a sissy, needing anything to cling to. Buttercup, who was so tough and burly, was a perfect match for my younger brother in every way; he was strong and sturdy, needing someone to equal him in strengths and weaknesses. And then there was Blossom. That girl had serious issues. She was incredibly intelligent, virtually flawless, and yet she had the gall to act so harried and stressed out while she was getting ready to sleep. I scowled as I sat in the tree, the tree that was directly outside her window, and watched her scurry around her room, putting things down and then picking them back up and placing them somewhere else. I always hated watching her do this, wonder around her room anxiously; I preferred it when she just leisurely got in bed and I could watch her peacefully sleep, her figure half-hidden by the deep red canopy that hung over her bed. I knew it was kind of creepy, but I found it was the best way for me to think, the most relaxing place I knew of. Whenever I was tense or nervous, my brain filled with concerns and baseless worries, I would come to this tree and watch her for hours on end. Occasionally, when I thought she was deep enough in her sleep, I would even open the window and go inside, sit on her floor, and watch her from a much closer distance. Even though a part of me knew it was a sign of weakness, the other part was so certain nothing would come of these actions that I continued to partake in the ritual.

I continued to sit there, on the branch, thinking about my stupid brothers and watching Blossom until the sun began to rise—and I knew it must be close to seven. So, reluctantly, I bade my tree limb goodbye and flew off, knowing I would never return or risk falling for that thing, back to my home and my idiotic brothers.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

The week progressed, and Wednesday and Thursday passed with no unexpected events. Buttercup did note, however, that whenever she saw Butch in the halls—which was often—she didn't ignore him or glare as she usually did. Instead, she found herself smiling good-naturedly in his direction, occasionally even going as far as to wave. Whenever this happened, the girl would shake her head vigorously and rebuke herself for associating with that devilish boy. She couldn't understand why she was acting like such a pansy, simply forgiving him for all the trouble he had caused; even though it actually wasn't his fault for people thinking they were dating.

When the girl's alarm went off on Friday, she could feel something different about the day—something she liked. There was a feeling of change in the air, excitement in the breeze. Buttercup felt energized, ready to handle whatever the day threw at her. She flew to school with her sisters, chatting a little with the other girls, but was silent for the most part. The girl was just enjoying the day, enjoying the feeling of utter peace and perfection; however, there was a little flaw in this picture, a fly in the ointment. For some reason, she didn't feel complete. She felt like someone had taken her arm off or something, felt like she was without an essential part of her being. The girl simply shrugged as the bell rang, though, forgetting all about it and heading for her first class of the day. All of her classes seemed to zoom by, and before she knew it, the final bell rang, and the first week of school was over for Buttercup. She let out a massive sigh of relief and headed for her locker, smiling widely as she walked through the halls.

As Buttercup approached her locker, she saw Butch standing there uncomfortably, nervously. Her brow furrowed a bit, but her mood stayed at a high level, not dipping at all. "Hey, Butch," she greeted, surprising herself. "What's up?" The girl began placing her books in her locker and when she was finished with the exchange, she closed the door and turned to look at Butch.

"Oh, nothing much. How was the first week of school?"

"Alright. It's school, right?" Both teens awkwardly chuckled, not meeting each other's eyes. Buttercup turned to look at Butch again, and found he was staring at her intently, taking deep breaths. "Butch? Are you alright?" He was kind of freaking her out, and Buttercup took a half step back.

"Never been better," he replied, and surged forward, capturing her lips in his own.

Shock. That was the dominant feeling Buttercup had. Not rage, embarrassment, or anger. Just simple shock. Her eyes were bulging, her arms dropping her books to the linoleum and clattering, her heart pumping loudly in her ears, her breath not coming. Butch's own eyes were closed peacefully, his hand gradually reaching up to caress her jaw line. After what seemed like five days, but was more like five seconds, Butch pulled away and looked Buttercup in the eyes, trying to gauge her reaction. The girl, though, just stood there, eyes large, mouth slightly agape, her hand slowly touching her lips, feeling how they were still warm from his embrace. "Ah… ah…" Buttercup said, trying to find something, anything, to say to the boy who just kissed her, basically telling her he loved her. "Um…" The girl was trying to decide if she liked that, if she enjoyed Butch's kiss. And, because she wasn't positive, she requested something of him. "Could you… run that by me again?" Butch smiled and eagerly obliged, reaching one hand behind her back, the other on her neck, pulling the girl to his enthusiastic lips. Buttercup's eyes were still wide, but eventually she decided she did like this. It made her heart pump frantically, made her breath come short, gave her goose bumps. Her eyes finally fluttered closed and she reached for Butch's hair, just holding him close to her. Her tongue asked for entry, and he again gave in to her appeal, parting his teeth and allowing her to dominant the battle their tongues were ensued in. Both of his hands dropped to the small of her back, and he pulled her closer still, liking how nicely their bodies molded together. After a while, though, the two needed air, and they pulled apart. They were then quiet for a time, Buttercup hugging his body tightly, never wanting to let go. But, eventually, a question formed in her mind, and she had to know the answer.

"What about Brick?"

Butch chuckled lightly. "It's funny. When he found out I loved you, he punched me and knocked me out. Then, on Wednesday, he said I could ask you out if I beat him in a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. I won." The boy smiled and Buttercup rolled her eyes. "Aren't you glad, Bup?" Buttercup glared at him and poked his chest.

"Don't ever call me that, 'kay? …Just not around other people."

"But when we're alone…?" he trailed off.

"When we're alone, you can call me whatever you like."

"Great." He grinned greedily and pulled her in for another kiss. However, there was a sudden gasp, and the two broke apart. Blossom was standing there, at the end of the hallway.

"Buttercup? What are you doing?" she asked.

"Butch and I are going out now." Blossom smiled and shook her head.

"I swear… Am I next?" She asked the question with heavy sarcasm, but Buttercup knew the fear of falling for Brick was real.

"Yep. Mark my words, sis—before this time next year, you and Brick will begin dating!"

"Sure we will," Blossom said, turning around and waving her hand.

"When you two fall for each other I get to say, 'I told you so'!" Buttercup yelled after the red head. Once the older girl had turned down the hall, Buttercup grabbed Butch's hand and headed for the drama teacher's room.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"You'll see," she replied, the plan already forming in her mind. "We're going to make sure those two are together. Just you wait…"

Author's Note: And that's the end! I have one more, obviously, for Blossom and Brick. Watch out for it: "A Fiery Red"!

Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoyed!

Cordially,

LadyFrederic