disclaimer: nope nope nope
dedication: to summer because even though it's january summer is my favorite season and last summer is when chokecherries and i came up with this lmao
notes: ANOTHER COLLAB WOO. also i am not dead just buried in school and it's only my sECOND DAY BACK ;A;
notes2: this is so frickin long. it took me ages to edit this, omfg. also the title was random it doesn't really have anything to do with the fic. *shrugs*
playlist: there's a couple songs for this: 'We Come Running' by Youngblood Hawke, 'Bad Reputation' by Joan Jett, aaaand 'Real Wild Child' by Everlife.

.

.

Headed for the open door
Tell me what you're waiting for
Look across the great divide
Soon they're gonna hear
The sound, the sound, the sound
When we come running

.

.

"Ugggggggh," Buttercup groans, and Blossom raises her brows at the dramatic drawn-out sound. Bubbles is standing on her tip toes trying to reach a box to clean under it. "It's full of duct tape. Why do we have a box full of duct tape."

The blonde shrugs to herself as her question goes unanswered, and attempts to reach another box. It's too hot to float up there to get it today. Or at least, she feels too sluggish.

Blossom looks up from her spot between two bins full of Christmas lights and smiles. She drags herself off the floor and grabs a ladder on her way.

"Here," she says, nudging her youngest sister aside. "I'll do that."

Buttercup releases another groan from her spot over by the lawn equipment, to which Blossom shoots her an annoyed look. The redhead is on the ladder attempting to pull things down from the top shelf. It's not going so well.

"Why do we have to clean the garage on the hottest day of the summer?" Buttercup bemoans, falling back against the wall rack. Several gardening tools clatter in place. "I feel like we're roasting. I'm baking you guys. I seriously am."

Blossom scoffs and nearly has a mini heart attack when she almost tips off the ladder. "There are five full paint cans up here, why..." She mumbles to herself, then in a louder voice says, "Stop being so dramatic, Buttercup. At least it isn't snowing."

"The Professor isn't that cruel," Bubbles pipes up as she accidentally knocks the box full of duct tape to the floor. "Oops..."

The song on the old radio they rigged up to work in the garage—though for some reason, the only station that will decently come in is one that plays music from the seventies to early 2000's—suddenly turns to static, and two pairs of eyes turn to Buttercup. The middle sister rolls her eyes and reaches over to where it's sitting on the tool bench and smacks it. The effect is almost instantaneous, and the music comes back on.

"Yeah but, this heat wave is about to fucking fry us," Buttercup fans herself.

Blossom sighs and makes a face as she carefully sets a box full of more Christmas lights on a lower shelf. "Language," The redhead reprimands.

"—And that was a real oldie, folks. Now, for your hourly weather forecast," A bright and cheerful voice from the radio announces. It's such a sudden switch that Blossom almost falls again. "Today's weather is hot and humid, with an astounding high of ninety-nine degrees, and a heat index of one hundred and five degrees! The heat wave over Townsville doesn't look like it's letting up anytime soon either, folks. It's best to stay indoors as much as possible, with working AC. Remember to drink plenty of water and stay tuned into 98.5 WWKP, your one stop for the best of the 70's, 80's, and 90's. Now, here's a blast from the past. Bon Jovi's 'Wanted Dead or Alive' is next."

Buttercup sends the oldest Powerpuff a pointed look as the guitar strains start to blast from the radio.

"We are going to die out here. The heat is going to mummify our bodies. We'll turn into shriveled up dead people. They could out us in the town's historical museum as an attraction. I can see it now: 'The Powerpuff Girls—fought dozens of villains over the course of their life, were defeated at seventeen by heat stroke.' "

Bubbles mumbles something incoherent, and Blossom rolls her eyes. "I think the heat is doing funny things to your head," She stands on her toes and reaches for a crate pushed all the way back onto the shelf.

The ladder wobbles just as the lyrics 'I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride' blast from the radio. Her eyes widen and she knows that she's going to tip before she actually does.

Blossom's feet go out from under her as the ladder collapses.

x

Blossom lets out a shriek as she crashes to the floor, the old ladder going down with her (she was pretty high up).

"Blossom!" Bubbles tries to run forward to catch her, but there's so much stuff in the way, she can't reach her in time. Buttercup, who is half buried underneath a pile of old lawnmower parts, can only watch, wide eyed.

Blossom lands hard on her right ankle, and they all hear a sickening crack.

Then, a searing pain blooms in her ankle. She cries out again as the rest of her body meets the concrete floor of the garage. The ladder crashes down awkwardly, and somehow her left foot gets entangled in one of the rungs while the rest of the ladder lands across her legs, further paining her probably-broken ankle.

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god –" Bubbles is close to tears and frantically pushing things out of the way and clearing a haphazard path to get to Blossom. Once she reaches her she kneels down and holds Blossom's face in her hands. The redhead is ghostly pale, sweating, and her face is scrunched in pain.

"Blossom? Blossom, are you okay? I mean, of course you're not okay, but what can I do? What hurts?" Bubbles rambles, and Buttercup sweeps all of the nuts and bolts and metal parts off of her, rising to her feet and going over to her sisters. Blossom squints her eyes open.

"My ankle..." Her voice is strained. "I think it's broken..." Bubbles sucks in a sharp breath and Buttercup frowns deeply. Even though the chemical X helps with things like that, it takes it a good while to properly mend broken bones. And ankles are tricky bones to begin with.

"Well, looks like you're not helping us anymore." Buttercup states, carefully helping Blossom get her foot free and hauling the ladder away from her, laying it out in the driveway where half of the crap (as she referred to it) from the garage is sprawled out. The Professor was gone on a weekend trip to some science convention and had asked the girls to organize and clean the garage while he was away.

"What? No. I'll be fine in a little while; I just need to wrap my foot." Blossom argues, but Buttercup crosses her arms and gives her a look.

"Nope. Sorry leader girl. You're out of commission for the time being. You know how long it takes for broken bones to heal, even with the chemical X. We don't need it healing wrong and you being permanently crippled or something." Bubbles nods in agreement. She gingerly removes Blossom's sneaker and sock, wincing at what she sees.

Blossom's ankle is twisted at an odd angle and swelling rapidly. Purple bruises are already forming around the most-definitely-broken bone.

Meanwhile, 'Wanted Dead or Alive' is still playing loudly in the background.

"That's not good." Blossom says, closing her eyes at the sight of her ankle and throbbing pain coming from it. Bubbles shakes her head.

"Definitely not. But, it is good that we all have that special medical field training!" The blonde then dashes inside to get a first aid kit and ankle brace (from their wide array of medical supplies). Buttercup gets out a camping chair and unfolds it, placing it in a clean corner of the garage, and then retrieves some boxes of junk and stacks them so Blossom has somewhere to rest her foot. Bubbles returns a minute later, arms full. Once she sits down next to Blossom she gets to work. Buttercup lets Blossom squeeze her hand as Bubbles expertly sets her ankle, quickly wrapping it tightly in an ace bandage and then putting on the ankle brace. The whole time Blossom is silent, eyes screwed shut while she tries to control her breathing and not cry. The pain is almost unbearable, and she squeezes Buttercup's hand each time a new wave hits her. Bubbles apologizes numerous times as she works.

"Okay, all finished. Want some ice?" She says after she's done, standing up and closing the first aid kit. Blossom nods weakly.

"Get some painkillers too baby blue." Buttercup requests. Bubbles nods and leaves the garage once more. Buttercup helps Blossom stand up, the redhead leaning heavily on her sister. The two shuffle – or in Blossom's case, limp – over to the camping chair Buttercup set up. Blossom sits down slowly and raises her right leg onto the boxes with Buttercup's help.

"Maybe we should leave the garage for another day..." Blossom says. "I can't help you two today...god, that was stupid." She mutters the last part.

"Oi leader girl, none of that." Buttercup says sternly. Blossom looks up at her. "Don't go beating yourself up. It was no one's fault you fell. It just happened, and now we gotta deal. 'Sides, we promised Professor we'd do it this weekend, didn't we? Bubbles and I will be fine, don't you worry. It just might take a little longer cuz we have less manpower…or should I say womanpower?" Her lips quirk up into a small, rare smile. Blossom returns the small smile in silent thanks.

"Or I could just call Boomer and he and his brothers could come help us out." Bubbles suggests as she re-enters the garage, a bag of ice and a cup of cold water in her hands. She sets the ice on Blossom's ankle and hands her sister the water bottle, along with two painkillers. Blossom takes the pills and opens the water bottle, downing a few gulps before passing it to her sisters.

"Ugh. And see Butch any more than absolutely necessary? I think not." Buttercup replies. Blossom – despite the pain she's currently in – shares a look with Bubbles. Buttercup was so oblivious.

"Hello hello hello!" A familiar voice calls from outside the garage. Bubbles' face immediately breaks out into a smile and she practically skips out to meet her boyfriend. Buttercup turns to Blossom with a horrified look on her face, and Blossom has to stifle a laugh.

"Maybe Butch didn't come?" She offers. For a moment, Buttercup looks hopeful, but then –

"Yo Sunshine!" Said boy's voice rings out. Buttercup's shoulders slump and she scowls.

"Shit." She swears under her breath. "The universe just loves to fuck with me today doesn't it? First the heat, then this. What's next?"

x

Brick walks into the garage behind Butch.

Buttercup throws her hands in the air and screeches. "Do they always come in threes? Is this how it's going to be, God? Whatever. Just leave me to these damn lawn mower parts. I'll just rebuild the entire thing from scratch."

"Sounds like fun," Butch comments, walking over to where she's retreated back under the pile of metal and other junk.

She bangs her head against the back of a mower. The sound is so loud it reverberates throughout the garage, causing Boomer, Bubbles, and Blossom to cringe. "Fuck. Me."

Butch's mouth quirks up into a smile, and she sees it coming. "Asshole, don't you fucking dare—"

"That sounds fun too."

"Uggggggh."

Bubbles covers her mouth with the back of her hand and has to turn away to hide her laugh. Brick surveys Blossom's wrapped ankle and the tears barely making their way down her cheeks.

He raises a brow. "What the hell happened to you?"

The redhead fiddles with the hem of her tank top and pointedly ignores his questioning and rudely soul-searching gaze. Did he always have to do that? "I um, fell. Off a ladder. That ladder. Right there. I was trying to reach a box and," Here, she shrugs and glances at him sheepishly, "I didn't quite make it?"

Brick rolls his eyes. "You're so fucking reckless. Is it broken?"

"...Maybe?"

He swears under his breath, but she still catches it. "Of all the fucking...what were you doing, begging to get yourself hurt? So damn stupid."

She frowns at him. "The chemical X will heal it just fine. I just can't be on it for a few hours. Which, unfortunately means I won't be able to help clean the garage."

Boomer's head shoots up from the old dartboard he was inspecting. "Help? Did you say you need help? Bubbles?"

Brick is visibly disgusted. "She did, dumbass."

He smiles widely. "I'll help! I don't want Bubbles getting hurt."

The song on the radio transitions over to 'Hot Blooded' by Foreigner as the blond carefully but insistently nudges his girlfriend away from where she's trying to reach the same box that Blossom was attempting to get. Butch grins down at Buttercup, who squints up at him suspiciously, strongly considering throwing the mower deck in her hands at him.

Brick heaves what is debatably the biggest sigh of his life before looking at Blossom. She blinks at him.

Today, because the weather is basically a fucking oven, she's wearing a tank top and what is probably the shortest pair of shorts she owns. Her skin is a milky white, all smooth curves, and her freckles stick out even more than usual. He swallows.

"What do you want me to do?"

Blossom blinks at him again. "Um, can you...could you please bring that container of Christmas lights over? I was working on them earlier before I..." She trails off as he shoots her an agitated look, "...Yeah. I just, I still want to be helpful."

x

Brick thankfully doesn't argue, and Bubbles hands him the box of Christmas lights with a bright smile. He gives them to his counterpart and she sends him a hesitant smile, opening the box and pulling up a tangled mess of multicolored lights. She's got her work cut out for her.

"...And that was Foreigner's 'Hot Blooded'!" The radio crackles. "Now, for our next song, it's a real classic, straight from the 80's...it's the Beastie Boys with their hit song 'Fight For Your Right'! Enjoy, folks!" And with that, the guitar starts up and the song begins.

Butch grins.

"Man, this song is great." He nods his head to the beat. He's sifting through boxes of old toys and pictures of the girls, snickering every so often. Buttercup is on the floor near him, focusing on the lawnmower, but her gaze flicks over to her oldest sister repeatedly, checking up on her. Bubbles is swaying to the beat of the song (not surprising, Buttercup plays rock often enough) and organizing the Professor's old workbench, watching Blossom out of the corner of her eye. Blossom is patiently untangling the Christmas lights, and once she's finished she'll rewind the strings in an orderly fashion and pack them back up. The pain in her ankle has dulled, courtesy of the painkillers and ice, and her cheeks are still wet but she's no longer crying. She's still pale though, and Bubbles makes a note to give her a hearty lunch after this. She needs to get her metabolism going to boost the chemical X. Boomer and Brick are unloading boxes from shelves, setting them down outside in the driveway to be sorted through.

It's peaceful for a while, until Boomer takes down a significantly large box.

"Jesus," He yelps in surprise as the box almost falls from his hands. "What's in this thing?" Brick grabs the other and the two lower it to the ground, and the others look at them curiously. Bubbles makes her way over and grabs the x-acto knife, slicing the box open.

She undoes the flaps and promptly gasps.

"Oh my god!" She squeals loudly. Buttercup's clamps her hands over her ears.

"Aw jeez, baby blue, tone it down a bit before I go deaf!" She groans playfully. Bubbles sticks her tongue out at her before turning back to the box.

"Oh, Blossom, remember this?!" She reaches in and brings out a slightly dusty 1962 Hofner bass guitar from the packing peanuts. Even though it's a bit faded, the solid red color is still very noticeable.

The boys stare.

Bubbles gently puts the guitar on the ground and digs around some more. Underneath two layers of newspaper and more packing peanuts, she reveals another guitar, this one a baby blue and white Danelectro 1959 Reissue DBL Cutaway.

One last dig and she pulls out two neon green drumsticks tied together, which she tosses to Buttercup. Her dark-haired sister catches them easily and a grin stretches out on her face. She eagerly unties them.

"Damn, I've missed these." She comments, doing a drumroll on the mower deck in her lap. Blossom's face turns thoughtful.

"So that's where those went." She says, tapping her chin. Bubbles picks up the red bass guitar and goes to Blossom, the blue guitar in her other hand.

Blossom takes the guitar from her sister's hand and sets it across her lap, setting the neatly looped Christmas lights in their box. Bubbles runs her fingers over her guitar strings, floating a few inches off the ground because she's so happy.

And then the boys, who had been staring incomprehensibly at their counterparts, pretty much explode.

x

Butch gapes at them as Blossom plays a riff on her bass, making a face and tuning it just so. "Okay. What the fuck is this."

"Language," The redheaded Powerpuff scolds him as Boomer looks up at his girlfriend.

His eyes are wide as she strums a happy little tune. "Where'd you guys get these?"

Buttercup beats her drumsticks against the deck. "We used them to take down a villain a couple years back. The power of music, pfft. Damn, I'd forgotten we even had these. We were good."

A pause.

"We're still good."

Butch raises a challenging brow. "Oh yeah? Prove it Sunshine."

She looks at him, then at Bubbles and Blossom. "Fine," Buttercup says. "But I'm gonna need the rest of my drum set. It's around here somewhere."

x

"This isn't gonna fit in the garage." Buttercup comments as she looks at her half-way assembled drum kit.

"Put it in the driveway!" Bubbles replies. Buttercup nods, and does just that. She quickly gets to work, and Bubbles and the boys follow her out into the driveway. Blossom thinks for a moment before carefully removing her ice pack and setting her foot on the ground. She shucks off her other sneaker and sock, so both her feet are bare. Slowly, she floats up, out of her chair, not putting any pressure on her right foot. She grips her bass and brings her feet back, bending her knees. She flies above the mess in the garage and outside, levitating about four inches off the ground to ensure her foot doesn't catch on anything. As soon as her sisters catch sight of her they immediately protest.

"Yo leader girl, sit back down –"

"Blossom! You shouldn't be up –"

Blossom waves them both off.

"I can't sit in the garage while you two are out here. Besides, I'll just fly so my feet won't touch the ground. I'll be fine, see?" She spreads her arms, guitar in hand. Reluctantly, they agree. Blossom moves over to float by them, and draws her legs up, putting the guitar strap over her shoulder and setting her bass in her lap, making it look like she's sitting in mid-air.

Brick notices her toenails are a bright, cherry red.

Blossom finishes tuning up her bass as Bubbles strums another little tune. Buttercup is just finishing setting up her drums, and Brick eyes them skeptically. Boomer appears to be excited, and Butch is ready to make fun of them (read: Buttercup).

The middle sister experimentally taps out a beat on the drums and bites her bottom lip. (Note, Butch does not notice this at all. No way.) She absentmindedly drums something as she stares off into space, eyes narrowed. "...Now, what to play?"

Bubbles' hand shoots up. "Oh! Oh! I like—"

"No," Buttercup says immediately, and the blonde's face falls.

"But you didn't even hear what I was going to say," The joy and laughter mumbles, her eyes downcast to her Cutaway. Blossom frowns upon this.

"Buttercup, she's right. You didn't even let her finish. I think we should hear her suggestion."

The toughest fighter throws her head back and groans. "Fine. But she's going to pick some girly song." Bubbles huffs and floats over to the dark-haired girl. Leaning down, she whispers something into her ear. Buttercup's scowl gradually turns into a slow smile. "That's perfect."

Blossom fidgets nervously at the look on her sister's face, and turns somewhat pale when Bubbles conveys the message to her. "That?" She blanches. "I-I'm going to have to sing that?"

Brick's head lifts and he raises his brows at the fact that Blossom is going to be singing.

"Aww, we'll help you!" Bubbles gushes, not deterred by the horrified look on her oldest sister's face. "Besides, you're a great singer! You'll be fine!"

Blossom plucks a few chords on her bass. "That's not what I'm worried about," She mumbles.

Butch taps his foot impatiently. "We don't have all day here, ladies. Let's get this thing fucking going."

Blossom shoots him an absolutely miserable look, which sparks Brick's interest even further. Whatever is about to go down, it's going to be good.

Bubbles floats up and kicks her heels together. She winks down at their small audience. "Okay, so. Since all our radio will play is old songs, we're sticking with that theme."

Her smile widens.

Buttercup taps her drumsticks together. "One, two, three," She mutters, then begins to tap out a solid beat.

"This is humiliating," Blossom mumbles to herself, and then it's her cue.

She comes alive, albeit very reluctantly.

The commander and leader wails away on her bass and closes her eyes; Bubbles is strumming away behind her, smiling brightly.

Blossom takes a deep breath, and—

"I don't give a damn about my reputation," She sings loudly, prettily. Her voice is nothing like Joan Jett's, it's much sweeter. It's spellbinding. Butch almost trips over his own feet. "You're livin' in the past, it's a new generation. A girl can do what she wants to do and that's what I'm gonna do...an' I don't give a damn about my bad reputation. Oh no, not me."

Blossom straightens out in the air and works her fingers across her guitar strings, looking back at her sisters. Bubbles is playing along enthusiastically, a giddy smile on her face and she bobs along to the beat. Buttercup is going off on the drums, her hair flying and a wide grin on her face. Blossom smiles, and feels herself relax a little more, sing a little louder.

"An' I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation, never said I wanted to improve my station," She keeps singing, loosening up with each line. "An' I'm only doin' good when I'm havin' fun, an' I don't have to please no one...an' I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation, oh no, not me, oh no, not me."

She sings the next line with a little more force, and floats closer to Bubbles so they're playing side by side. Her youngest sister beams at her.

The boys only watch, wide-eyed.

"I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation, I've never been afraid of any deviation...an' I don't really care if you think I'm strange, I ain't gonna change," She takes a deep breath before continuing. "An' I'm never gonna care 'bout my bad reputation, oh no, not me, oh no, not me...pedal, girls!" Bubbles takes over and does a small guitar solo, and Boomer finds that he's having trouble breathing.

"An' I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation, the world's in trouble, there's no communication...an' everyone can say what they wanna say, it never gets better, anyway."

Brick can't take his eyes off her. She doesn't look horrified anymore, in fact, she looks carefree. Her hair is swinging behind her, and her lips are stretched into a smile. Her fingers move effortlessly across her guitar, and Brick then notices her nails are the same cherry red as her toes. Why didn't he see that before? That stupid nail polish is doing funny things to his brain. This whole situation is.

"So why should I care about a bad reputation...anyway? Oh no, not me, oh no, not me!" Blossom looks at Buttercup, meeting her gaze. Her sister smirks at her.

Butch was fully prepared to laugh in Buttercup's face. It looks like she'll be laughing at his dumbstruck one by the time this is over.

"I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation, you're living in the past, it's a new generation...an' I only feel good when I got no pain, an' that's how I'm gonna stay." Bubbles and Buttercup sing the last line with her, harmonizing with their sister.

If the boys were having trouble breathing before, they've now lost all current use of their lungs.

"An' I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation, oh no, not me, oh no, not me...not me, not me!" They end with a bang of Buttercup's drums, and Bubbles and Blossom float there (Buttercup is still seated behind her drum set), smiles wide and eyes gleaming.

Before anyone can say anything, there's the sound of clapping.

The girls turn around to see their neighbors from a few houses down, and their ecstatic expressions quickly disappear.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Barbie Brigade." Buttercup sneers. Bubbles touches down on the ground, and Blossom floats a little lower but is forced to stay in the air.

The three girls in front of them are tanned, blonde, blue-eyed identical triplets: Gracie, Lacie, and Stacie Ferguson. Referred to as the Barbie Brigade because of their fake...everything. You know those cliché popular mean girls in high school movies?

These girls idolize them. The only way people could tell which triplet was which is because they dress differently. Gracie wears a lot of purple, Lacie wears a lot of...well, lace, and Stacie wears a lot of neon.

"Oh can it, dyke." Gracie rolls her eyes. Buttercup grits her teeth. "We just came by to congratulate you on how much you suck."

Blossom and Boomer have to physically hold Buttercup back from probably decapitating Gracie. "That's not very nice," Bubbles pouts.

Lacie sneers at her. "If it isn't little miss sunshine, always pointing out the flaws in others. And look, your hair is in stupid pigtails. What are you, five?" Her blonde sisters snicker, and Stacie's grin is predatory as Bubbles shrinks back into herself. "Aww, wittle Bubbles, is she gonna run back to her daddy? Are you going to cry?" The joy and laughter doesn't meet their eyes, only fueling the girls' fire.

Buttercup snaps her fingers. "Oh no. Say you didn't just say that about my baby sister. Bitch, you're gonna get it."

She takes a step forward, but stops when Blossom grabs the back of her shirt to keep her from pummeling the girls into kingdom come. Or hell. Probably hell.

Boomer looks at them with narrowed eyes and draws Bubbles under his arm. He presses a kiss to the top of her head and silently dares the sisters to make fun of her anymore. So instead, they turn their full attention to the oldest Powerpuff.

Lacie snickers at Blossom's bruised—black and blue and almost bleeding—ankle and an awful smile spreads across her face. "Oh no, did the leader fall and hurt herself? You're such a klutz, it's a wonder you haven't died fighting yet. One day you're just going to trip off a building and fall to your death."

Blossom simply sighs and ignores the barbs, as per usual, but Brick doesn't handle it so well.

He's fuming.

"You," The oldest Rowdyruff growls, "Leave."

The Ferguson sisters seem affronted. Probably because his eyes are glowing and his voice is cold and commanding. (Which isn't totally unusual, but.) Stacie huffs. "Fine, but before we go, what do you say we decide who really has talent. A battle of the bands."

"Deal," Buttercup snaps, jutting out her chin and making Lacie take a few staggering steps back. "Now get the fuck off our front lawn, you plastics."

The triplets do this weird hair-flip thing and walk off, leaving the strongest fighter stomping around the driveway and Blossom watching her and Brick warily.

"Who were those girls?" Boomer questions, patting his girlfriend on the arm.

Bubbles sniffs miserably. "The Ferguson sisters. They're triplets and they live down the street."

"They're horrible human beings," Buttercup groans. "The exact blonde girl stereotype—those cliché mean girls who are at least thirty percent plastic."

Their blonde sister pauses. "Wait. So what the heck just happened?"

Blossom sighs. "We—and by 'we' I mean Buttercup—just agreed to a band battle, against the Fergusons—"

"Barbie Brigade!" Buttercup interjects.

Butch, who's been strangely quiet up until now, suddenly speaks up. "Then kick their asses."

x

Buttercup blinks at him before responding in her usual manner.

"Damn straight we're gonna kick their sorry asses, they think they can get away with this shit?! I don't think so." She starts ranting to herself again, pacing the driveway. Blossom sighs and Bubbles hugs Boomer's waist.

"Hey...who's gonna judge?" Bubbles asks, eyebrows furrowing. Boomer opens his mouth but Blossom cuts him off.

"You three can't do it because you're biased." Blossom states, pointing to the ruffs. Butch pouts, Brick scowls, and Boomer's shoulders droop in defeat. Blossom thinks for a minute.

"What about Margo and the twins?" Blossom says, face thoughtful. Bubbles perks up.

"Oh, they'll love that!" Buttercup stops pacing and an evil grin grows on her face. Blossom floats a bit away from her and Bubbles shudders.

"That's perfect, leader girl." She snickers. "After all, children are known for being innocently blunt..." And with that, she's striding over to the house next to them.

"Who the hell are you getting now?" Brick says, exasperatedly. Blossom shoots him a look.

"Language," She replies sternly. "Margo's nine, and the twins are six. They live next door; we babysit them." She explains.

"Ross and Jay, the twin boys, are adorable." Bubbles coos. "Margo wants to be a ballerina, Ross wants to be an astronaut and Jay wants to be a race car driver."

Buttercup and another female voice can be heard conversing next door, and then three kids rush out. The tallest one, Margo, hugs Buttercup's waist before sprinting across the two lawns. Ross plops down on Buttercup's right foot and wraps himself around her leg, while Jay jumps up and clings to her arm like it's a monkey bar. She drags them both over easily.

"Margo!" Bubbles squeals, embracing the smaller girl, who returns the hug just as enthusiastically. Blossom hands her guitar to the closest person, Butch, and hovers two inches above the ground. Margo leaps at Blossom, who catches the girl in her arms.

"Hi Margo," Blossom laughs. Margo tucks her head into Blossom's neck and looks over everyone.

"Bubbles!" Two voices cry out. The twins clamber off Buttercup and rush Bubbles, hugging her legs tightly. She laughs and bends down, hugging them at the same time.

The twins wave and smile toothily at Blossom, who smiles back. Then, the three children examine the tall boys with them.

"Are those your boyfriends?" Margo asks, looking at Blossom. Butch grins and wiggles his eyebrows at Buttercup, who makes a face at him. Blossom's cheeks turn red and Brick's expression darkens. Boomer kisses Bubbles' cheek.

"I'm her boyfriend." The blonde ruff tells the kids, who gasp. "My name is Boomer, and those are my older brothers, Brick and Butch. They don't have girlfriends." The sentence makes Blossom's chest feel funny.

"Brick should be your boyfriend." Margo whispers in her ear. "You and him match." Blossom's eyes widen and her cheeks get even redder.

The twins run up to Butch. He raises an eyebrow at them.

"He has metal in his face!" Jay gasps, pointing up at Butch's eyebrow piercing.

"Pffft, ohmygod," Buttercup cackles and Brick smirks. Boomer snickers behind his hand. Butch looks a bit offended for a moment before he smiles and crouches down to their level.

"Wanna touch it?" He asks, wiggling his eyebrows again. Jay nods and hesitantly reaches forward, a small finger poking the end of the piercing. He quickly yanks his hand back, but stares in awe.

"Cooool!" He exclaims. Ross giggles and plops down on Butch's foot, wrapping around his leg like he did with Buttercup. He sticks his thumb in his mouth, completely oblivious to Butch's shell shocked expression. Buttercup laughs harder and Bubbles giggles.

Jay wanders over to look up at Brick.

"I like your hat." The child says. "Red is my favorite color." Now, under normal circumstances, Brick would've either scared the kid away or said something snarky...but, Blossom was watching the kids with tender eyes and the whole day has just been way out of the ordinary, so he figures...screw it.

He lets out a small exhale and half his mouth quirks up into a tiny smile. He reaches up and takes off his hat, sticking it on Ross's head.

"Here, kid. Why don't you wear it for a little while?" Ross gasps happily, and tilts his head up to look at Brick. The hat is too big for him, so the bill covers his eyes. Brick twists it around to the back, careful not to hurt him. He doesn't need the girls murdering him because he didn't watch his superhuman strength around some kid.

Ross is beaming at him, and his brothers look like they just died. Bubbles is still giggling and even Buttercup looks impressed. He glances at Blossom. She's smiling widely, and her eyes are sparkling.

Boomer snaps out of his shock first, and he opens his arms to Ross. The little boy runs at him and Boomer hoists Ross onto his shoulders, the six year old shrieking happily. Jay is content where he is, and Butch just shrugs.

A shiny white convertible pulls up, and the three Fergusons are inside. Music instruments are sticking out of the trunk haphazardly.

"What are these three doing here?" Gracie says, nose wrinkling as she looks at the three children.

"They're the judges." Buttercup states smugly. The Barbie Brigade's eyes widen.

"What? No! I am not –" Brick crosses his arms and glares. Stacie closes her mouth.

"Margo, Jay, Ross," Buttercup addresses each child, her tone surprisingly gentle. "These are the girls I told you about; the ones we're competing against. You guys are going to pick who sounds better: us or them, okay?" The kids nod.

"Whatever," Lacie smacks her gum. "Where do we set up?" Blossom raises an eyebrow and points to other side of the front yard, opposite her and her sisters' instruments. The Fergusons sniff but thankfully don't argue, retrieving their instruments and putting them in place. Gracie has a purple bass guitar in her hands, and Lacie's on keyboard. Stacie is sitting behind a neon colored drum set.

"Okay!" Bubbles exclaims, clapping her hands. The Fergusons roll their eyes at the same time, which is extremely creepy.

"The rules are: we each play a song, and if the kids can't decide then we play another song each. The songs have to be oldies, like from the 80's or 90's. No modern stuff. And um, try to keep it PG." She looks at the girls' outfits, which were essentially, tight and short. They leave nothing to the imagination.

Gracie huffs. "Alright, alright, fine. Let's just do this already." She sends a scathing look Blossom's way. "We're gonna beat you into the ground, Utoniums." Buttercup makes a sweeping gesture in front of her with her hand.

"By all means," She sneers. "Hit us with your best shot."

The three huddle together around Stacie's drums for a minute before separating and returning to their spots. They smirk at Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup. Gracie winks at Brick, and a disturbed look comes across his face. Blossom's gut twists. There's a second of silence before all three start playing at the same time.

The tune is very familiar, and Buttercup's expression changes into one of shock and horror. She looks at her sisters.

"Please tell me they're not playing what I think they are." She says, eyes wide. Blossom looks increasingly uncomfortable and even Bubbles cringes.

Then, Gracie starts singing.

"I come home, in the morning light, my mother says 'when, you gonna live your life right'," She sings into the mic.

"Oh, gross." Buttercup groans. "This is ten times worse than anything Bubbles could pick. I think I'm gonna be sick." Bubbles says nothing, but she doesn't look too pleased.

"Oh momma dear, we're not the fortunate ones," Gracie continues. "And girls, they wanna have fu-un, oh girls, just wanna have fun."

x

Buttercup cringes as Stacie launches into the next verse. "The phone rings in the middle of the night. My father yells 'what you gonna do with your life?' "

"Hopefully not choose a path in the music industry," Boomer mumbles and Butch snickers.

Lacie winks at the blond from behind her keyboard. He feels a cold sweat coming on. "Oh daddy dear, you know you're still number one. But girls just wanna have fu-u-un. Oh girls just wanna have fun."

Brick is hardcore judging. He has this special talent (according to Boomer and Bubbles, but Blossom's also noticed it) of judging people over his coffee cup. The redhead just gets this look—brows raised, red eyes skeptical—and that's about all the emotion he shows. But he doesn't even need that now.

And Blossom is watching Brick and his astonishingly hardcore judging. Ross is still happily clinging to his leg, the redhead's even redder cap falling over his ears.

"That's all they really want," Stacie croons in Butch's general direction. He looks visibly affronted by this. "Some fun. When the working day is done. Girls—they want to have fun. Oh girls just wanna have fun."

Gracie looks at Brick, who is looking at Blossom and therefore not noticing her looking at him looking at Blossom who is looking at Ross with a small smile on her face. (It's the little things, he reminds himself. He's seen Zombieland.) "Some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world. I want to be the one to walk in the sun. Oh girls they just wanna have fun. Girls just wanna have fun."

"The triumvirate of fugly," Buttercup mutters to Butch, who is ruffling Jay's hair. He snorts. Even though he's not sure what 'triumvirate' means.

All three of the triplets finish out the end. "That's all they really want. Some fun. When the working day is done. Girls—they want to have fun. Oh girls just wanna have fun. They want to have fun, they want to have..."

The music stops and it's quiet for several painful seconds.

"This is fun," Margo cheers, holding onto Bubbles' hand and pumping her fist in the air.

Ross brings a hand to his chin and narrows his eyes, looking eerily like a younger Brick, minus the red hair and glowing eyes. "I give it a seven."

"Seven!" Jay proclaims from his new perch on Buttercup's hip. "I wanted something with more bang! Like those songs Blossom has on her Ipod but doesn't want anyone to kn—"

The redhead places a hand over the boy's mouth, laughing nervously as several pairs of bright, inquisitive and accusing eyes look her way.

Margo places her hands on her hips, face troubled. "What Jay means is, he wanted a song with more cool stuff," This statement does not clear up any confusion on the behalf of certain (blonde, triplet) parties. "With like, more vo...vocif...erous...ness."

Once again, all eyes turn to Blossom.

"She means something more like rock music...I think," The Powerpuff says in embarrassment, cheeks turning pink.

Margo points to her like she's just discovered chocolate chip cookies. "That's it! But I thought it was okay," She shrugs.

"Soooo," Butch begins hesitantly, "We got a seven, it needed more 'bang,' and an okay."

Boomer scratches the back of his head. "What is that overall? Like..."

Stacie grins wickedly, although she still looks a bit put off by the kids' comments. "You're next, losers."

Buttercup sets Jay down on the ground and gives her a steely-eyed look. This seems to please the hatless twin. "Let's do this."

x

"Time to show these plastics just who they're dealing with." Buttercup glares in the Fergusons' direction as she walks to her drum set. Blossom and Bubbles pick up they're guitars, slinging the straps over their heads and making sure the instruments are in tune. Blossom floats a little higher off the ground.

"Okay girls," She says to her sisters. "What song?" Buttercup raises a drumstick and they come closer to her so the others can't hear.

"...Alright." Blossom agrees without much fight, even though it's another song she wouldn't normally sing. Buttercup grins devilishly and Bubbles jumps up and down in excitement.

"We're not getting any younger here!" Gracie snaps. "Hurry up!" Blossom gives the blonde her 'you-better-sit-down-and-shut-up-or-else' look. Buttercup is very familiar with it.

Gracie shuts up.

"Ready?" Blossom asks Bubbles. Her youngest sister nods eagerly. Blossom takes a deep breath before her and Bubbles start playing at exactly the same time.

"I'm a real wild child," Blossom sings as her and Bubbles play their instruments. Buttercup joins in a few seconds later, and recognition flashes on their audience's faces.

"Well I'm just outta school, like I'm real real cool," Here Bubbles stops playing, so it's just Blossom and Buttercup keeping time. "Gonna dance like a fool, got the message that I gotta be a wild one, ooh yeah, I'm a wild one." A grin starts to spread on Blossom's face. "Gotta break it loose, gotta keep 'em moving wild, gotta keep it swingin' baby, I'm a real wild child."

Buttercup and Bubbles join in for the next line, so all three are playing and singing.

"Gonna meet all my friends, gonna have ourselves a ball, gonna tell my friends, gonna tell them all, that I'm a wild one...ooh yeah, I'm a wild one."

Blossom and Bubbles float up so they're back to back as they play. Blossom is the only one singing now. "Gotta break it loose, gotta keep em moving wild, gotta keep it swingin' baby, I'm a real wild child," Bubbles starts to wail on her guitar and Buttercup plays harder. "I'm a wild one."

Bubbles and Buttercup echo her. "I'm a wild one (I'm a wild one), I'm a wild one (I'm a wild one), ooh baby I'm a wild one (I'm a wild one)," Blossom looks Gracie dead in the eye and smirks at her. (No Brick does not find it extremely attractive he does not)

"Gotta break it loose, gotta keep em moving wild, gotta keep it swingin' baby, I'm a real wild child." She stops playing for a moment so it's just Bubbles and Buttercup, then jumps back in. "Oh oh oh," Bubbles strums her guitar loudly.

"I'm a real wild one, and I like a wild fun, in a world gone crazy, everything seems hazy, I'm a wild one, ooh yeah I'm a wild one." Bubbles smiles and winks at Boomer, who grins lopsidedly at her in return. The kids are jumping up and down and running around excitedly.

"Gotta break it loose, gotta keep em moving wild, gotta keep it swingin' baby, I'm a real wild child." Bubbles takes the lead with her guitar as her and Buttercup echo Blossom again.

"I'm a wild one (I'm a wild one), I'm a wild one (I'm a wild one), I'm a wild one (I'm a wild one), ooh baby I'm a wild one (I'm a wild one)," Blossom and her sisters' voices are loud and strong, and Buttercup and Bubbles harmonize perfectly. "Gotta break it loose, gotta keep em moving wild, gotta keep it swingin' baby, I'm a real wild child."

The Fergusons are sending the Powerpuffs nasty looks and they look none too pleased with this turn of events.

The three stop playing for a moment, with Blossom strumming short notes in the background. Buttercup beats down on her drums three times as Blossom sings: "I'm a real wild child, now." Buttercup comes back in with Bubbles and Blossom lets up on her strings. The next line they echo again.

"I'm gonna break it loose (break it loose), gonna keep it wild (keep it wild), I'm a real wild child," Blossom drags out the last note for a few moments and their instruments fade.

Then, Buttercup beats down on her drums twice as hard and Bubbles and Blossom come back full-force with twice as much energy as before.

"I'm a wild one (I'm a wild one), oh I'm a wild one (I'm a wild one), I'm a wild one (I'm a wild one), oh baby I'm a wild one (I'm a wild one), oh...gotta break it loose (gotta break it loose)," The next line is Blossom singing alone again.

"Gotta keep em moving wild now, gotta keep em swingin' baby, oh I'm a real wild child now, oh…" She extends the last note for a good couple seconds before they break into the chorus one last time.

Blossom and Bubbles are rocking out in mid-air, and Buttercup looks like she's having the time of her life.

"I'm a wild one (I'm a wild one), yeah yeah...I'm a wild one (I'm a wild one), no no no no nooo, yeah oh...I'm a wild one (I'm a wild one), oooh oh I'm a real wild, real wild wild...I'm a wild one (I'm a wild one), no no no no no no no no no no...I'm a real wild child."

They cut off all their instruments at once and end the song, huge identical smiles on the sisters' faces.

x

Margo starts to cheer and clap her hands wildly, Jay wolf-whistles—earning an impressed glance from Butch—and Ross reaches up to throw Brick's cap in the air, but thinks better of it. Instead, he carefully pulls it off his head and runs over to Blossom with a toothy grin and gently places it on her head.

"You're awesome!" Jay and Margo chorus, dashing to where the girls are still smiling at them.

Buttercup catches Jay as he jumps at her, and she swings him around in the air. "Play it again!" The boy cheers. "Again!"

Margo clasps her hands behind her back and smiles up at Bubbles. "You were super cool," She notes. "Can you teach me?"

Ross is bashfully looking up at Blossom, who is smiling softly down at him. "You...you're really good," He mumbles.

Something to be noted: Ross almost has the biggest crush on Blossom that ever was.

Almost.

The redhead kneels down next to him to put a hand on the six-year-old's shoulder, but he surprises her by surging forward and quickly kissing her on the cheek. His own are a cherry red and he hides his face behind his hands. Blossom, after her initial shock, brings him in for a hug.

Brick is not jealous of a six-year-old. He is not.

Stacie glares at the scene. "Not biased, huh? You three seem pretty chummy with those brats."

Jay sticks his tongue out at her. "We're not brats!"

"And just because you're mean to us, doesn't mean that'll change what we think," Margo declares, crossing her arms and tossing her head back.

Jay snickers. "Yeah. Even though you look like some of Margo's dolls that've been dragged through the mud."

"What."

"Why you little sh—"

Blossom cuts Lacie off with a warning look. It's almost a glare. So close to Brick's 'you better shut the fuck up right now or i will beat your ass' look. It's beautiful, Butch notes. Especially when it's not directed at him.

Boomer laughs nervously. "Okay so, who won?"

Margo and her two twin brothers gather and deliberate for a few minutes. There's a lot of expressive hand motions and a little bit of shouting.

Finally, Ross lifts his chin and breaks away from his siblings. He's got that look again, scarily similar to a younger Brick's gloating face.

"The winner is—"

x

"–Not you three!" Jay yells, interrupting his twin and pointing a finger at the Ferguson triplets. Butch and Boomer burst out into laughter and Brick smirks widely.

"Hey!" Ross whines at his brother. "I wanted to tell them!" Before the two could get into an argument, Margo steps in.

"You were okay," She looks at the Ferguson sisters, who are fuming. "But you didn't have enough bang."

"And your singing hurt my brain." Jay comments.

"What brain?" Ross grins and Jay lets out a cry of indignation before chasing after his laughing brother. Butch picks up Jay and Boomer swoops in for Ross. The two shriek and giggle.

"I liked your song better." Margo hugs Bubbles. "Plus you guys are prettier. And nicer." She shrugs and the triplets look like they're about to explode.

"No way am I taking crap from you three brats." Gracie spits. "This was rigged anyway." Buttercup steps forward.

"Funny you should say that, because as I recall you were the ones to suggest it in the first place." She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow.

"Whatever," Lacie huffs. "I am so over this. We know we're better."

"Prettier, too." Stacie adds, flipping her hair and fluttering her eyelashes at Butch. He and Jay share a look and Butch makes a face. Jay howls with laughter.

"Well, now that that's over with..." Blossom sighs, floating forward and tentatively landing on the ground next to Brick. She grips his forearm (why is it so muscular, it's his forearm for crying out loud!?) for balance, still not letting her right foot touch the ground. Blossom then looks at the triplets and gives them an uncharacteristically haughty look.

"You can leave now."

x

The Ferguson (or, the fugly three, just one of the many names Buttercup has given them over the years) sisters give the redheaded Powerpuff this look. This time, they appear to be the ones visibly affronted.

"Whatever," Stacie scoffs, echoing her sister. She turns on her heel, embarrassingly short yellow neon dress making her look like some kind of caution symbol. And is that spandex? It seems to be spandex. "Lacie, Gracie, get your things and let's get out of here. I can't stand to stay here any longer."

The middle Utonium sister regards them with a sneer. "Good. We're tired of trash littering the front lawn."

Blossom shoots her a look, Butch high fives her, and the triplets gawk.

Buttercup watches in satisfaction when they drive off. Gracie sends her the finger. She covers Jay's eyes and returns the favor, but with a satisfied smirk on her face.

Ross observes the convertible with a thoughtful expression. "I don't like them very much," He says bluntly, then turns to his brother—who is contently holding Buttercup's hand. "Remember when they babysat us and locked you in the closet? You cried."

Jay appears scandalized, and the look he sends his twin is a hilarious mix of betrayal and anger. "You said you'd never tell!"

Margo leans over and holds a hand up to her mouth. "He's afraid of the dark. They thought he was annoying and so they shut him in the closet and didn't even turn on the light," She whispers conspiratorially.

"Margo!"

The little girl grins carelessly and shrugs. "Oopsie?"

Boomer pats her head. "So this afternoon hasn't turned out at all like I was expecting."

Buttercup picks up her glass of iced tea and turns to him. "Why are you guys even here? You don't even live on this side of town."

Brick and Butch's accusing gazes immediately slide to their blond brother. Boomer throws his hands up in defense. "It wasn't all me, you guys!"

Jay glances up at Buttercup, who's snickering at Butch. "Is he your boyfriend?"

She's thankful she hadn't taken a sip of her tea, because she would've choked. Ross sends Blossom another bashful glance.

"C-can I..." Blossom patiently coaxes him to go on. "Can I have...a...a kiss?"

This time, Buttercup actually does spit out her iced tea. Butch cackles while slapping her on the back, Bubbles giggles and even Boomer starts to chuckle. Brick eyes the boy warily as Blossom looks taken aback.

But nonetheless, she lets go of Brick's arm and stoops down the press a kiss to his cheek. Ross is thrilled.

Brick, not so much.

When she straightens (she's still floating a few inches off the ground), he pulls her close to him, and the Powerpuff looks at him questioningly.

"May I?" He questions—lowly, gruffly.

She blinks, brow furrowing, but her eyes go wide when he kisses her.

It's slow and smoldering, but pleasant and burning. Her eyes flutter closed and she slips a hand up to his face.

"I believe you've just crushed a poor six-year-old's dreams," Blossom mumbles breathily against his mouth. "And broke his heart."

Brick smirks, and it sends a rush through her stomach. "He'll get over it. I hear kids are resilient like that."

x

"It is too hot for this shit." Butch grouses, chucking another box full of junk into the bed of Mitch's truck, which Buttercup had borrowed from him so they could take all of the Utoniums junk to the dump. Said Powerpuff rolls her eyes.

"You didn't have to come, dumbass." She snaps back. Margo and the twins had been called inside a while ago (they were going to the pool, those lucky little kids) so it was just the teenagers now.

"Language." Blossom mutters. She's currently propped up in the same chair Buttercup had set out for her what seems like ages ago, her broken ankle elevated. Her hair is pulled up in a big messy bun with strands falling out around her face, curling from the humidity. She is patiently untangling yet another set of Christmas decorations, this time sparkly tinsel. Glitter is getting everywhere, and she can't get it off because it's sticking to her sweaty skin.

Boomer and Bubbles are sorting through boxes, separating junk from donate from keep. The old baby toys they're sorting through are all going into donate.

Buttercup is intently working on the lawn mower, the old thing somehow coming together under her hands. Blossom is curious to see if it'll work when she's finished. That thing hasn't run in years.

Brick grunts as he hauls another box across the driveway to his brother, who takes it and throws it into the truck.

Neither of them are wearing shirts.

Buttercup and Blossom are having a hard time concentrating.

Said articles of (missing) clothing are thrown haphazardly in the grass, away from the mess that is the contents of the puffs' garage. Against her will, Blossom's eyes are drawn to her counterpart.

Brick, in all his shirtless, sweaty glory hasn't caught her staring yet. Hopefully he never does. She makes a sound in the back of her throat when he leans over to heft up another box. It must be somewhat heavy, because his deltoids constrict in a way that makes her a little woozy. Did it just get hotter outside, or is that just her?

The pink puff fans herself and tries to look at something else—anything else. It doesn't work.

Buttercup wipes some sweat off her forehead, and ends up with a dark grease streak instead. This is not the day to be working on lawn mowers. What the hell is she even doing?

Right.

Keeping her distance from Butch and his missing shirt and dumbfuck attitude.

Bubbles accidentally drops a box but Brick catches it before it hits the ground and spills everywhere. Everyone turns at the cut off scream coming from Blossom's general direction. They're alarmed to find her lawn chair tipped over and her legs barely twitching from where they're sprawled over the seat. There's tinsel strung everywhere, and the redhead groans.

"Blossom!" Bubbles panics. "What happened?! Are you alright?!"

Slowly, the leader girl raises her arm and gives them a thumbs up. Her weary voice filters over to them. "I just...I just need a moment. Just. I—rest. Yes."

Blossom stares up at the bright blue sky, cheeks burning and eyes wide, mortified. She's really done it now. Goodness gracious.

Brick warily approaches his counterpart. "Red, are you—"

"Fine," she screeches, closing her eyes and warning him not to come any closer. "In fact, I'd be a lot better if you put your shirt back on," She mumbles.

He raises a brow. "What?"

"Nothing. I said I think I'm suffering from heat stroke. I'm delusional, Brick. Ignore me. I'm hallucinating."

Brick hesitantly reaches out toward her, but thinks better of it. "You gonna survive, babe?"

"Shh. Resting, remember? I think if you poured a pitcher of iced tea on me I'd feel better. I'm losing my mind."

Buttercup and Bubbles share a concerned glance. "Blossom? How about you hose off some of this stuff before we put it back in the garage?" Buttercup suggests.

"Okay," Their oldest sister replies meekly.

Then—

"Guys. I'm stuck. And I think I'm going to be glittering for a week."

x

"I feel like fuckin' Indiana Jones," Butch mutters as he pushes through a stack of boxes. "I wouldn't even be surprised if I found a skeleton or three back here."

Boomer rolls his eyes as his brother disappears behind all the clutter. His voice doesn't disappear with him, though.

"How long has it been since you've cleaned this damn thing out anyway? Oh hey that is a dead rat never mind. Look at all these fuckin' spider webs never in all my life have I seen so many. It's like Peter Parker got drunk and tried to kill a cockroach or something. Aaaand that is what I think used to be a sandwich. Disgusting."

Buttercup throws a wrench into the box maze. It whacks Butch on the back of the head, she knows, because he lets out a loud, "Ow fuck!"

"Language!" Comes Blossom's weak cry from outside.

It's mostly silent after that, everyone concentrating without the green ruff's play by play. Half an hour later, the silence is shattered.

"Guys," Butch shouts excitedly, resurfacing from the unknown. "Guys. Look at this! I found a top hat!" He looks like the star of some weird porno or something, shirtless and pointing at the black top hat shoved over his hair.

He's instantly met with the freezing spray of the hose.

Buttercup snickers. "Okay Magic Mike, walk it off."

Butch glowers at them, then turns to Blossom, who is holding the limp hose in her hand, looking extremely guilty as water drips onto the grass.

x

Butch now looks extremely disgruntled, the top hat on the ground and his hair flattened in some places and spiked up in others, water dripping from his chin.

"Oops?" Blossom says, phrasing it more like a question. Butch shakes a finger at her.

"Just you wait, Rapunzel." And then, he rushes an unsuspecting Buttercup, plucking her form the lawn mower parts and squishing her against his soaking wet frame.

"Agh – Butch, you asshole, let go!" She cries, laughter cutting off as she struggles against him. He nuzzles her head like a cat and she growls.

"Nah, I think I like this much better." He wiggles his eyebrows, piercing glistening. (She most definitely does not notice it. Or think it's hot. Nope. Not at all.) Buttercup feels the hose water soaking into her tank top and she makes a face at a giggling Bubbles and grinning Boomer. Brick smirks at her and she flips him off.

Butch holds her closer and she is hyper aware of the solidness of his six pack against her back and biceps trapping her arms to her sides.

Well. This is a bit awkward.

She shoots Blossom a helpless look, and her older sister furrows her brows, obviously in thought. Hopefully she'll figure out a way to get Buttercup away from Butch soon, because much longer in this death grip and she might melt into a puddle of goo. Or her head might explode from the severity of her blush.

Ugh, she sounds like some pubescent tween girl.

Brick and the blues go back to what they were doing before. Butch is watching Boomer, snickering, yet still tightly gripping Buttercup. She looks at her sister again, and they have a silent conversation.

'Do you mind getting wet?'

'Hell no, it's hot and this asshole needs to let go.'

'Okay then.'

Blossom nods resolutely, holds up the hose, and Buttercup shrinks down. Before Butch can react, Blossom fires the hose straight at his face.

The spray hits Butch and catches him off guard, so Buttercup claws her way out of his (muscular) arms and takes shelter behind a wall of boxes, watching to see what Butch would do. Boomer is on the ground from laughing so hard, and Brick's cracked a rare, non-sadistic grin. Blossom stops the hose and for a moment, Butch stands stock-still, dripping wet.

Then –

"You'd better fucking run Princess." He charges her older sister, and Blossom drops the hose, eyes wide. She shoots up into the air since she can't run, and Butch launches after her. Bubbles gets serious, and goes after them.

Right before Butch grabs onto Blossom, she pops in between them, waving a finger at him in a reprimanding manner.

"Watch it, mister. Blossom is injured." She warns. Butch scoffs.

"She sprayed me with the damn hose! Twice!" He retorts, trying to get around the smaller blonde. She doesn't budge.

"I will fight you." She declares, raising her fists and narrowing her eyes playfully. Blossom smiles from her spot behind her. Butch smirks.

x

He raises his hands and wiggles his fingers, grinning like a maniac.

"I'm gonna get you, blondie." Butch launches at her, and Bubbles jumps back with a shriek as he tickles her. The blue puff screeches and laughs as she tries to push him away, but he just laughs louder and doesn't move.

Bubbles flails, and Buttercup watches the scene in amusement. "S-stop! Butch! Hahaha! It—pfft—I can't—"

Suddenly they crash into the ground, Butch face first, and Bubbles scrambles away from him, happy tears streaming down her cheeks. She's still giggling when Butch finally raises his head and looks back to see a smirking Brick.

"Betrayal," The middle brother shouts, "You fucking tripped me."

But there's a wide smile on his face as he rises to his feet and darts past his redheaded brother and the still laughing Bubbles to an unprotected Blossom. Her eyes widen and she lets out a shriek and desperately reaches for the hose. He picks her up and hauls her over his back, running and spinning around the lawn.

She throws her head back and between laughs, cries, "Put me down Butch! I'm serious!"

He grins. "Never! You sprayed me twice, doll! I gotta get you back somehow!"

Blossom's smile is positively blinding as she gives up lightly slapping his back and laughs even harder. Then she screams when a blast of cold water hits them. Buttercup, who's holding the hose, fist pumps the air. "Third time's the charm!" She shouts victoriously.

Butch slips on the wet grass and the two go sprawling across the lawn. Blossom giggles as she lies flat on the damp grass, arms spread and closes her eyes. Butch snickers a few feet away from her, and when she opens her eyes, Brick is standing over her, offering his hand.

The band battle seems so far away now, as she slips her hand into his and he hauls her up. She's still giddy from spinning with Butch, and she sends her counterpart a beaming smile as another giggle slips from her mouth. Something changes in his dark gaze then, but it's fleeting, and gone before she can really process it. Especially when they crash to the ground again.

Butch guffaws at the two and high-fives Buttercup, who'd sprayed Brick straight in the back and sent the two tumbling to the ground. Blossom tucks a few strands of dripping hair behind her ear and tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as she tries to hide her smile. She's on top of Brick, who doesn't miss the action or the feel of her fingers ghosting over his shoulder.

Bubbles pulls Boomer into the fray, tugging him along as they run under the hose, which Buttercup is holding in the air. Butch ducks and steals a kiss from her, and Bubbles almost trips. The toughest fighter lets out a cry and directs the jet of water towards him, causing Butch to stumble back and brush some of the water out of his eyes. Buttercup's face is bright red, and her sister has a feeling it's not just from the heat.

"Thanks for today," Blossom murmurs, gaze soft as she looks down at her counterpart.

Brick pulls her down and kisses her again. "Sure," He says, and she gets butterflies at the way his voice rumbles through his chest. "But I'm going to collect later."

The pink puff raises a brow and gives him a challenging look. "Oh really?" She leans down and her lips ghost over his ear. "And what kind of payment are you expecting?"

Before Brick can answer, she grabs his cap and pulls it on, rolling off him and into the grass. Blossom scrambles to her good foot and flies upwards. She manages to snag the hose from Buttercup, who is still chasing Butch. The redhead cranks it to the highest setting, watching Brick who is watching her as he gets to his feet. Then, she points it straight at him and pulls the trigger.

x

Two hours later finds the six super powered teens sprawled out in various positions in the Utoniums' living room.

The three males are all shirtless, Brick and Butch not having theirs on when the water fight started, and Boomer having taken his off to use as a weapon against his brothers (mostly Butch).

Butch is laying spread eagle on the floor, coffee table pushed aside and Buttercup draped across him. Boomer is spread out on the couch, long legs taking up the entire length, with Bubbles resting peacefully on top of him, their fingers intertwined. Brick claimed the oversized, cushy armchair and had given Blossom no other seating option, pulling her onto his lap. She's curled against his chest, her injured leg sticking out over the armrest. Brick's holding her close, and exhaustion fogs her mind.

"It took us five hours, but we managed..." Blossom murmurs. Brick's cracks open a blood red eye and the corner of his mouth twitches upwards.

Butch is snoring away, Buttercup's sleeping form rising and falling with each breath her counterpart takes. Boomer's head is now resting against Bubbles', and Blossom can tell both are fast asleep. They look adorable.

"Five hours, a broken ankle, a battle between bands, and a water fight." Brick amends, voice low. She hums in agreement and he tightens his grip on her, bringing her closer. Blossom lifts her head and presses her lips against his in a sweet kiss before settling back against him.

The garage is clean, her ankle is healing, the Fergusons have been dealt with accordingly, and her sisters and their counterparts are all sleeping soundly.

Brick's arms are warm and heavy around her, and she tucks her face into his neck. He kisses her hair in response. A content sigh escapes her and her eyes slide closed.

All is well.

.

.

fluffy ending i think yES. ALSO THIS IS LIKE A SONGFIC IN ONE PART AND THOSE THINGS ARE GREAT MAN IDC WHAT PPL SAY.

i'm supposed to be graphing vectors for my homework but instead i am posting fanfiction. (no one tell my mother.)

i'm such a rebel~ *puts on cool shades*

chokecherries would say otherwise, but. sshhh.

ALRIGHT ANYWAY HAVE A SUMMER ONESHOT THIS THING WAS LIKE 30 PAGES ON WORD SO YOU BETTER APPRECIATE IT. ily all.

peace out girl scouts,

two red converse