Disclaimer: I do not own Powerpuff Girls.

Summary: Buttercup might have lost her powers as a powerpuff, but she certainly was not weak. And she certainly didn't need any help from a total stranger, either. This total stranger, however, looked awfully familiar to her… Meh. Probably no one though. Whoever said blonde hair was hot anyway? ButchxButtercup.

A/N: Hmm. This is my first time writing a PPG fic, so I might not have the characters written well, which is why I would like to apologize in advance if some of you may cringe at the OOC-ness… Besides which, this fic is kinda romance. Kinda not. Probably bordering on in-between. Just something I thought and couldn't help but write. Well, hope you'll enjoy it anyways!

Buttercup was not having a good day.

Aside from getting into a fight with Blossom who couldn't stop pestering her over getting a job and lounging at her pink-haired sister's apartment like she owned it, Bubbles, on the other hand, couldn't keep her mouth shut about her pretty little boyfriend, either. She didn't really care about what Mitch liked to order on their occasional dates at a fancy, five-starred restaurant, much less did she give a damn about how "awesome" he was in bed. She just needed some stress relief. So she had got up, put on some clothes that were probably too revealing for her but she was going to put them on anyway because she'd drop kick anyone who would try to hit on her, and went for the club for a drink.

It was going great for a while… then people she somehow managed to get along with at the club started pushing drinks on her, and before she knew it, she was way too drunk to even drive back home. She didn't give much of a thought for the car, to be honest – it was Blossom's anyway – but, she did know she wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

But, of course, now that she was in her mid-twenties, and her powers had disappeared since she was eighteen, Buttercup had no choice but to walk her way back to Blossom's apartment. It would have been easier if she could fly, but of course, again, no powers. Over the long years, she'd gotten used to living –somewhat– like a normal human being, but now that she needed her powers more than ever, she couldn't help but miss them a little.

A small hiccup left her lips, and Buttercup grumbled a savage curse under her breath as she placed a hand against the wall of the dark alley she was in, trying to balance herself as her trembling knees threatened to give way. She staggered, cheeks tinged slightly pink and long, black hair disheveled, through the narrow passageway. A sound from behind her –like someone kicking a can or something– gained her attention, and she swiftly whirled her head around.

For a moment, her vision was blurry, and she blinked a view times to make it clear. Green eyes squinted, then refocused on the silhouette of a man before her. Soon, her vision fully cleared and she quirked an eyebrow at the blonde staring back at her, his pools of green strangely familiar as they fixated on her form.

A grin formed on the man's lips. "Buttercup… right?"

The woman took one step back as he advanced one step forward. Her eyes narrowed slightly, holding a tinge of doubt as they glowered at the stranger. "And how the hell would you know?"

For a moment, the man looked flustered, almost as if he was caught doing something he shouldn't. But then the grin came back, this time seeming wider. "Anyone would know the legendary Powerpuff girls."

Buttercup snorted. "Ex-Powerpuff girls," she retorted, rolling her eyes.

The stranger gave out a light shrug of his left shoulder. "Just because you don't have powers anymore, doesn't mean you guys aren't the Powerpuff girls anymore," he said, his grin now spreading from ear to ear and revealing pearl white teeth. Buttercup raised an eyebrow, wondering what he meant, but then shrugged it off, deciding it didn't matter.

She turned, not bothering to exchange another word to the man, and made to continue on her journey back home. But, the instant she even managed to lift her feet to take a few steps forward, a warm hand had already patted her by the shoulder. She gazed at the appendage for a few moments, before directing her eyes to the owner.

She was met with blonde hair and green eyes.

Buttercup let out an exasperated groan. "What do you want?" She slapped his hand off her shoulder, her green irises shooting daggers at him. "I need to get home. And I can't do that with your stupid face talking to me once a while. If you want an autograph, then maybe you should ask for one some other time 'cause I sure as hell am not in the mood for-"

"On the contrary," A laugh passed his lips, "I was about to offer you a ride."

"A ride?" She blinked, before furrowing her brows into a deep frown as she narrowed her eyes at him once more. "You're not some pervert trying to hit on me, are you?" she asked with an underlying irritation evident in her voice, the hand that was placed flat against the wall curling into a fist, as if ready to strike at him if he said the wrong words.

The stranger noticed this sign of danger, but made no move to acknowledge it. Instead, he laughed once more, shaking his head in response. "No, of course not. Now why would I do that?"

Buttercup shrugged. "I don't know, for fame, maybe?"

"I'm not the kind of guy who would go for that. Plus, it's not like you have that much fame anymore, anyways."

The girl growled. "I'll kill you."

"Struck a nerve, didn't I?" the blonde said with a laugh, his eyes dancing in mild amusement as he eyed her give him a cold stare. Laughter dying down in the air, he then permitted himself an apologetic smile. "Sorry, didn't mean to."

A snort. "As if I'd need your help anyway," she spat at him, and almost immediately, started walking again.

She was stopped, however, by an infuriating blonde who couldn't quite seem able to leave her alone, blocking her way as he stepped in front of her. She huffed.

What a drag.

"What now?" Her voice snapped at him as she removed her hand from the wall and made to side-step him, only to fail miserably as she nearly tripped on her own feet. A hand grabbed hold on to the upper part of her arm, though, keeping her from falling. She quickly tugged it out of the tight grasp, glowering at the owner. "What?" she repeated, voice rising up a notch.

The strange pulled a patient smile. "I get that you're annoyed, but you're not in any condition to walk, either. So, really, you don't have much of a choice," he said, his voice gentle but firm.

Buttercup caught on to what he was talking about. "Look, I'm not getting into your fancy car or ugly-ass truck or something. I don't even know you."

"You sure you don't?" he responded mysteriously, his smile taking on a much cryptic approach. She sent him a questioning half-stare-half-glare, but he shook his head lightly and smiled before offering her his hand. His eyes seemed to flash. "Really, Buttercup. I honestly want to help you."

"And if I don't want you to?" she replied with a scoff, and rolled her eyes. She made to continue on her merry way, before an arm wrapped her by the waist. Her eyes grew wide, and in one swift motion, the blonde swept her off her feet. Before she realized it, she was already on his back. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she growled, looking over her shoulder at him.

Green eyes rolled to the side. And they didn't belong to her. "Look, I don't really help people out a lot, so you might as well just shut up and accept my once-in-a-lifetime generosity." And for the first time that night, she saw his lips tugged down into a thin angry line, the grins from before now gone in an instant.

For a moment, she was shocked. But then the prideful spirit within her rose again, and it didn't take long for her to start struggling and kicking for freedom. But to no avail. Without her powers, she was no match for his male strength, much less now that she was drunk and couldn't even summon hers.

She sighed, resigning to fate as he literally threw her into his car. She would've punched him. But, she didn't manage to as he quickly slammed the door in her face.

He got in a second after, and Buttercup glared for a while; it was only when she heard the engine start did she finally allow herself to utter the word "asshole" under her breath and looked out the window. He didn't acknowledge her with a response, but she could almost feel his grin. Almost instantly, she could feel her anger mounting, but kept her head cool as she thought: 'Oh well. If he's that desperate to help, then I'll just let him! Hmph.' And she wasn't really fond of walking drunk, either, now that she stopped to think about it.

"Where's your house, by the way?"

She broke out of her reverie as a voice reached her ears, snapping her out of her musings. She blinked, before turning to look at the blonde beside her. "Huh? Oh- sure. It's at Homeade's apartment complex. Just drop me off outside."

"Sure you don't want me to walk you back to your…"

She didn't let him finish. "No thanks. This is degrading enough," she scoffed, turning once again, to peer out the window.

The stranger smiled, though one could tell it was half-forced. "I commend you for your honesty." His voice dripped with sarcasm, and Buttercup couldn't help but narrow her eyes at him as she whirled her head to face him again.

"Yeah, thanks," she said, her voice equally sardonic, before she rolled her eyes and decided to let him off the hook this time. She leaned back in her chair, staring blankly into space for some moments before focusing her gaze on him again. "What's your name, by the way?"

There was a pause. Almost as if he was thinking. But then, he smoothly replied, "Eric."

"Oh." She nodded. "Okay then, Eric. So, mind enlighten me as to why you've suddenly decided to help me? Everyone else didn't seem to give a shit."

"Colourful language," he remarked with a slight smirk lingering at the corners of his lips, before he shrugged his left shoulder lightly and finally granted her with an answer, "Don't know. I've just always been watching you… from afar. And well, when I saw you all vulnerable tonight, I just couldn't resist." His smirk turned into a grin; toothy and spreading from ear to ear.

That startled out a laugh from Buttercup. "Eww, stalker much?" she kidded, a teasing grin playing on her pink lips.

"I'd much prefer to be called a fan, thank you very much."

"Heh." Buttercup turned her gaze to the window again. "I think I've seen you around here before, though. You look familiar. Where do you live?"

For a moment, she could have sworn she saw him froze, but that was only for a fraction of a second and he quickly relaxed, not allowing her time to fully confirm if it wasn't just her imagination.

"Somewhere," he mumbled his reply.

Buttercup raised an eyebrow, but decided against probing as she realized the now all too familiar building coming into view. The car went for about five more seconds, before stopping, and Buttercup already had her hands on the door's handle.

"Thanks for the ride," she said before opening the door and stepping out. "Really can't thank you enough." And for some reason, she smiled. And for some reason, she actually meant that. But, that couldn't be possible, right? She barely even know the guy, yet she felt as if she was giving him a flirty look at this moment. She snorted. No way. She didn't even have a thing for blondes, for one thing. And he reminded her too much of one particular Rowdyruff she used to be arch-nemesis with.

Eric grinned; though this time it was seductive… even predatory. "Perhaps a hot make-out session would suffice?"

His answer came in the form of a door slamming into his face.

"Oh, hey. Took you long enough. Where have you been?"

Butch took off his shoes and stuck his hands into his pockets as he looked up at his brother, Boomer. Brick was nowhere to be found. Probably soundly asleep in his room.

"Somewhere. I took care of your date, by the way." He released one hand from the warmth of his right pocket as he reached for the blonde wig on top of his head, tugging it off and throwing it nonchalantly over his shoulder.

Boomer said something about it being expensive before running to fetch it. He came back a few moments later and Butch was already in the middle of taking off his shirt.

"You didn't wear any contacts," Boomer noted, his blue eyes narrowing slightly at his brother. "You sure she didn't notice?"

"Chill, bro," Butch retorted with a scoff, and rolled his eyes to the side. "I lost them after the date, so there's nothing to worry about."

Boomer stared at him for some moments, before he then shrugged it off. "Did she ask you to sleep with her?" he suddenly asked, watching as Butch looked at him in surprise before laughing out loud at his abrupt outburst.

"No- why would you say that?" Butch ran a hand through his hair and started taking off his socks. It was time for a shower. He smelled too much of sweat.

"Dunno." Boomer shrugged once again. "Just thought it was weird that you took some time getting it over with. You went out for like… five or six hours, I think," he said, as he spared a glance at the clock before turning his head back to his brother. "What were you doing?"

"I met someone interesting along the way," Butch answered slowly. "An old friend of mine," he bluffed, "We ended up spending some time catching up with each other."

Boomer nodded slowly, eyeing Butch's every movement as he sauntered his way to the bathroom, one towel now wrapped around his shoulder. Boomer seemed to consider something, before a teasing grin slowly crept to his face.

"Was it Buttercup?"

His question was soon followed by the sound of Butch tripping on the cold, wet floor of the bathroom.