My main reason for typing this is because I have not seen any stories like this for these two characters in the fusionfall list. Except for facade, which was the bomb, btw( you rock, LightningBird). And I tend to like these kinds of stories, so here you go. Hope you enjoy them too.

Cartoon network still owns fusionfall. Enjoy the show!

TLC

Despite the previous encounter in which Dexter had been particularly open, there were times when he wished not to disclose certain facts. This was another field he would occasionally struggle in: Honesty. Not necessarily telling the truth instead of the lie, but admitting that he would need assistance or suffered a certain discomfort. But every so often, Dexter would crawl a little further out of his steadily breaking shell to voice his true thought. To be a little selfish and allow himself to feel and express emotions of the more vibrant measures to the darkest, least escapable degrees of sadness and uncertainty.

This is one of those moments.

When did it begin? Ah, yes. A monday. Mondays, as you all know, have earned themselves a grim reputation which, to this day, continues to hold a universal infamy. It signifies the end of the single repose one could obtain during the long and arduous week. Only two days to watch television, read comics, sleep until noon, and simply to be a kid again, is all you get. You know, to play. Then it's time to hit the books again and to scrunch up in your gum-riddled desk or bland cubicle. Never enough sleep or break time to sustain for the whole one hundred and twenty hours. You are a sort of wage slave to the week. Only one question remains among the countless problems and obstacles: Will it ever end?

"Quit acting so friggin' happy, will you? It's monday. Skipping isn't right on a monday unless it's skipping school."

Readjusting the circadian rhythm is probably one of the many factors of the day's atrocious notoriety, not to mention the piles of work that lay ahead. Now the Powerpuff sisters walk to school, giving them a chance to wake up before the day actually began. Sometimes the weather would be particularly kind to the trio, such as this morning. Though the clouds cast a blinding grey upon the downtown construction, the air held a warmth that wrapped the girls up like a cozy blanket. A light on-and-off drizzle kept them refreshed. Or at least, most of them. Buttercup lagged behind, Bubbles next to her, while Blossom trotted ahead, humming an upbeat radio tune.

Blossom spun to face her sister, absolutely beaming. "Well I don't stay up until midnight reading yaoi doujinshi and pushing up the phone bill. I sleep at night."

"Shonen jump is not yaoi!"

"But I found Junjo Romantica under the bed, Buttercup," said Bubbles. "Fake was right next to it."

"So was Naruto!" Buttercup thrust an accusing finger into her sibling's direction. "And how did you know if it was yaoi? Did you read it or something?"

"I could tell by the cover. Didn't need to look inside. And I don't think I wanted to either."

"I second it," chuckled Blossom, raising a hand.

"You two are so dead if this gets out," growled the girl dressed in green. Her face had gone red and a vein had even started to throb on her forehead. Buttercup's fists were no doubt clenched, too.

"Don't worry. We won't say anything." Bubbles winked at her obviously ashamed sister.

"Way to mess up an already sucky day." Buttercup kicked an an old coke can. She looked up to her red-haired sibling. "Again, why are you so cheerful?"

"It's a new day," she replied, picking up the aluminum with her toe and playing a bit of brief hacky sack with the trash before kicking it off into the street. "Why not start it off in a good mood?"

"You're just love sick. Seeing Dexter again is making you slaphappy."

"Hm," replied the girl. "Maybe. But I like Dexter and Dexter likes me back and-"

"And you won't frikin' shut UP ABOUT IT! Good grief, it's been going on for, what, a month now?"

"Two and a half weeks."

"Whatever. Guys don't hang around you that long unless they want something."

"Buttercup!" Bubbles stomped her foot and stepped in front of the called sister.

"No, I am being serious. Ok, Dorkster is a smart guy- that's a given. But remember: he is still a guy. What's to say he won't try to trick you into doing something stupid, playing you like a pawn." She gestured to her red-haired sister.

"You read about that in your yaoi," asked Blossom.

"SHADDAP!"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." The redhead put her hands up in defense. "But Dexter isn't like that. I should know. He'd never try to trick me into doing something that I wouldn't want to do. Now c'mon. We'll miss school if we don't hurry."

"Right." Buttercup quickened her pace, rubbing her hands together. "Hello library assistant period and sweet, sweet Folgers!"

"You and your coffee," giggled Bubbles, walking ahead as well. "The professor won't like it if he finds out about your habit."

"I'm more worried about the yaoi. . ."

Blossom laughed and looked up to the sky. She stopped with her hands behind her back, but couldn't suppress the grin.

"And what chance may that be?"

Blossom brought a hand to her own cheek.

"Whatever it may be that you permit."

She let her fingertips trail over her lips. The smile widened and a rosy blush dusted her cheeks. Normally she wouldn't make such a big deal of something like this, but it was her first kiss, after all. And Blossom was lucky enough to share that first kiss with her fairytale knight, even if he was much to scholarly to wear shining armor. That's not the point though. This metaphor serves to describe someone who rescues the other from some negative situation, meaning he or she brings pleasure into your life where there wasn't to begin with. Muscles, hair and brawn are not qualifications that doom those in lacking. Everyone has their flaws, but those who can accept, embrace and enjoy those errors are the ones who can save and be saved.

And that's what love is all about.

"Hey! Quit lagging- I want coffee!"

Blossom was broken from her trance. At the crossroads ahead, Bubbles and Buttercup stood waiting for their sibling, while the latter waved her arms. She shook her head briefly and ran to meet them. "I'm coming! And what's your obsession with school coffee anyway? I heard it's expired."

"Yeah. And its free and away from the professor. C'mon!"

The redhead sighed. That's my sister, she thought. A dull, quiet rumble sounded above as they drew closer to the building. Blossom smiled again. Second hour with Dexter. Can't wait. Once again she was skipping ahead of Bubbles and Buttercup.

Breakline

Blossom looked about the chemistry room as she passed through the door. Work tables were placed in the back of the room, behind rows of desks for normal paperwork. The teacher's desk was (and always will be) cluttered with notebooks, papers and knick-knacks. Notes from the previous class- first year- were still scribbled out upon the board. This was little more than balancing equations with polyatomic ions. The girl sighed. If only titrations with di- and polyprotic acids were so simple.

She took her books off her hip, placed them on the desk, and seated herself by the window. Sprinkling rain tapped on the glass, presenting the perfect atmosphere for indoor classwork. Thunder rumbled lazily. More students filed in and took their seats as well. The desk just in front of Blossom remained empty. The minute bell rang. Is Dexter just running late today, mused the girl. That's a first. . .

Finally class began on the mark of the final bell. A brief moment of chatter passed before the teacher walked in. An immediate hush fell on the students. The african educator, a tall and very threatening man, walked to his desk and picked up a black notebook. The man clicked his pen. "Miss Bubblegum."

"Here," called a feminine voice.

"Mr. Donall."

"Here."

"Miss Lee."

"Here."

Blossom looked to the door. This wasn't right. Shouldn't Dexter have been here by now? But then again, it wasn't right he was "late" to the class to begin with. Professional and uptight individuals like him shouldn't be behaving in this manner.

"Mr. O'Brien."

"Here."

A light flickered against the window. The grey sky grumbled once more. Was he working at Dexlabs? That was a possibility, actually. Maybe some defenses against Fuse should he somehow return. But would he really skip school for it? Probably not, especially if the return was unlikely to happen.

"Mr. McPhearson."

There was silence.

"Mr. McPhearson?"

The students turned their heads one by one to Dexter's desk. His absence was now confirmed. Suspicious gossip arose as the children exchanged theories.

"Grim better not have done anything. . ."

"Let's add Chupacabra to that list."

"My bracelet hasn't been acting up, so I don't think he was captured by any monsters."

"Maybe Mandark is causing trouble."

"But didn't they make a truce?"

"The war's over. No reason to keep it."

"HEY!"

The room was immediately quieted once. The teacher cracked his knuckles as he adjusted his tie. "We have a class, remember? If Dexter is absent, Dexter is absent. No different from you hookie-players except that he may have a valid reason. Now shut up so I can finish attendance."

A simultaneous "Yes sir" was mumbled.

"Good. Mr. Tennyson."

"Here."

Blossom put rested her forehead on her hand and sighed. Dexter wasn't at school. Maybe she should try to find him afterwards if she could survive the day.

"Miss Utonium."

"Here."

"Good. Now take out the homework. Where there any problems that any of you needed help with?"

A few hands apprehensively rose as the worksheets were drawn. It's only second hour, Blossom reminded herself. I'll just call him after school. She took out a pencil and scribbled side notes as the teacher gave his instructions.

"That's a monoprotic acid. Hydrochloric acid. So you use the formula. That's the acid's molarity multiplied by the acid's volume which equals. . ."

Breakline

The sisters could have walked back home if it weren't for the rain. What had started out as light sprinkling of water became harsh bullets and turbulent winds. Even the clouds were almost pitch black, bursting with blinding bolts of static electricity. All practices and after school activities had been canceled due to a very violent and dangerous storm, not to mention impending. The buses were loaded and every seat nearly full. Would the driver be so kind as to drop everyone off at their respective homes? Probably not. . .

A trademark verizon tone chimed as an old flip phone awoke. Blossom scrolled through her contact list.

"Stalker," stated Buttercup bluntly.

"I'm checking up on him."

"You couldn't have done that over the weekend?"

"No. I had homework to do over the weekend and I would have gotten distracted."

Buttercup grinned wide and cynical.

"Not that kind of distraction!" Blossom was now red in the face. Yes, these innuendos were common for Buttercup, but uncalled for at many, many times. "Besides I'm seriously worried. What if something happened?"

Bubbles turned to face her sisters from the front seat. "I guess you have a right to be suspicious," she replied, folding her arms under her chin. "A lot of crazy things were still going on after the war with Fuse. But what if he just took a day off to help with Tech square's reconstruction? That could be why he skipped."

"I don't think so." Blossom set her phone down in her lap. "Dexter wouldn't be to type to ditch school for any reason."

"You guys are thinking about it too much," remarked Buttercup. "Ask him when he gets back to school. Who knows? Maybe he's finally worked himself to death."

"Don't say that!"

"Because I might be right?"

"Exactly! That's it- I'm calling him." Blossom selected Dexter's number from the list and held the phone to her ear while covering the other with her hand. The device rang. Then a voice sounded from the other end of the line.

"This is Dexter," replied the machine. "My apologies, but I am unable to come to the phone at this time. At the request of your patience and a message, I will answer this call as soon as I can. Good day to you, sir or ma'am." With that, the line died.

Blossom frowned. "He didn't pick up. . ."

"Is his cell off," offered the blonde. "Try his house phone."

"Don't have that."

"Then try his house."

Blossom looked up. "Huh?"

Bubbles put a finger in the air as though to instruct. "If you visit him at his house then you can talk to him face to face. And if he is working on some super special project then you can give him a hand with some heavy lifting or something."

"Seriously." commented the black haired girl. "You're helping the stalker stalk?"

"Yeah." Bubbles stuck out her tongue. "Maybe she can bring some of the Junjo to show him and Deed-"

Buttercup immediately clamped her hands over her sister's mouth. "Alright, alright! I get it! Just go over there- I don't even care anymore!"

"Ok then," chuckled Blossom. "I guess I'm going to visit him personally. It sounds like a good idea if he'll need help. Thanks Bubbles."

"No prob. You'll have to ask the professor though. He's always wanting to know where we are when we step out of the house, but you'll most likely be allowed to go."

"Right. I'll ask him myself."

The two continued their chatter for a while longer. Buttercup smacked a hand over her eyes. This'll be a loooong ride home. . .

Breakline

Sure enough, though the professor was reluctant to allow his little girl to trek through the terrible storm, Blossom was permitted to visit Dexter. Umbrella in hand, she trotted over puddles and fought against the wind. The trial was not one of the most challenging Blossom had to deal with, but still a nuisance nonetheless. Though her clothes had not gotten soaked, the gale brought goosebumps on her skin, not to mention chattering teeth. Occasionally a clap of thunder would strike her attention, heightening the senses. Once a bolt of lightning struck a far off tree. She considered turning back and the plant snapped and collapsed.

Blossom shook her head and marched forward. I said I would help him, she told herself. And that's what I'll do!

Soon enough the girl reached the house. No cars were found in the driveway, yet there was a garage. Light seeped out of every window except for the one belonging to her boyfriend's bedroom. Boyfriend. She smiled at the term and rang the doorbell. An answer came. The entryway was opened by a blonde girl in her usual ballet attire.

"Hiya, Blossom," she chirped. "Come on in. You come over to visit?"

"Yeah, thanks DeeDee." Blossom closed her umbrella and shuffled inside. The house was certainly warmer than outside. What struck her first was the palette choice of the interior. Yellow walls, purple carpet, green couch- the family must have had an extreme immunity to epilepsy. All along those walls hung a timeline of family photos, from a very happy marriage, through the growth of a family and up to the present time. Blossom chuckled at the sight of an eight-year old Dexter with a sour expression.

"Place looks a lot like our old home if you ask me," explained the blonde. "Guess it makes sense that Mom and Dad would spruce it up like this. It always feel good when I visit."

"Visit?"

"Yeah. I live by myself at the old house and decorated it myself. I got a job and everything, so it's all cool. Come to think of it, I might want to move in here. I still got my fears about the fusions and stuff, you know?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean. You never know if something like that will happen again. Even Buttercup has had a nightmare or two about Jeff, even though he's actually a cool guy. Once you get past the fact that he's a spider, that is."

"Yeah, I still don't get how that big-nosed kid is the dad." DeeDee scratched her head. "So you need anything? We got snacks in the kitchen and stuff."

"Oh, no thanks." Blossom waved her hand. "I'm actually here to see Dexter. He didn't show to school, so I figured he was working on something and that I could help."

"Well, you're right about the working part."

"Cool. So where is he?"

"In his room, but I wouldn't go up there if I were you."

The Powerpuff girl frowned, slightly surprised. Dexter had told numerous accounts of DeeDee's intrusions and compulsive button-pushing. Perhaps it was amusing to an extent, but Blossom had felt a great deal of [possibly biased] pity for her companion. So if DeeDee was not only advising against the visit, but most likely refraining from it herself, then maybe there was a certain issue that needed a resolution.

The girl stepped forward. "Why? Did something happen?"

DeeDee chewed her thumbnail thoughtfully. "He kinda got sick," she replied. "Worked the entire weekend- I think that's what Mom and Dad said. I'm suppose to be watching him, but maybe a quick visit from you would help my little brother get better. His room's this way." The blonde walked up the stairs and Blossom followed. She didn't need to be told which way to go, but she took the guidance anyway. They came to his door. Blossom noticed that a few of the keep out signs were removed. One caught her eye: "No uvas". The red-head raised an eyebrow. "No grapes," she translated.

"Yeah, I think he was trying to be clever," replied DeeDee. Ever so slowly, she twisted the knob and pushed the door open. Her voice was decreased to a whisper. "Try to be quiet. This is probably the first time he's been asleep all day."

Blossom nodded and slipped inside. The darkness resumed it's place as the door shut behind the girl. A light dozing sounded from the bed. Dexter. Skimming her foot across the floor as to avoid tripping over any stray clutter, Blossom walked to the boy. Lightning flickered through the blinds. For a moment she could see him, curled up beneath the blankets and dozing soundly. The girl noted the oil-stained shirt and lack of his bulky frames. He really looks different without his glasses, thought Blossom.

She stopped at the side of the mattress and bent down. Her eyes were already adjusting to the dark. Blossom brushed a stray curl of hair from Dexter's forehead. She permitted her hand to rest on his cheek. Though unconscious, the boy moved his head to press into her touch. A fragment of a smile tugged at his lips and she could not help but grin in return.

But then the next moment became awry. Dexter suddenly gave a pained grunt. Blossom pulled her hand away. He now held himself in an upright position with one hand. The other had been firmly grasped over his chest. What had been an even breathing before was now labored respiration. Blossom extended her hand again to touch his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Dexter's head shot up. His eyes darted about in the dark, looking, yet not seeing. The boy moved away from Blossom to the nightstand on the other side of the bed. There was a clattering of a pair of glasses and a click. Lamp light shooed the dark away, yet Dexter did not seem to believe in Blossom's present existence. "You are an apparition of a vivid session of REM," he asked.

The girl shook her head. "No, you're awake- not dreaming." Her companion smiled and sank back into the pillows. She leaned a bit closer. "A little birdy told me you caught a bug."

Dexter took a quivering breath. "I contracted no illness," he said. "Physiological discomfort kept me from school today, i.e. insomnia and fatigue."

"Meh." The girl laid herself on her stomach, parallel to the male. "It's a sick day either way. But I guess I don't need to worry about catching what you got." Blossom kicked her feet together nonchalantly.

The boy passed a hand over his eyes. "I still have difficulty in comprehending the fact that I've skipped an entire day of school. Hopefully the teachers will permit late work, along with that test in en-" Another yelp had been elicited, slightly more distressed than the prior. His hand went to his heart again. The girl was sitting upright, ready to defend or assist, whichever the situation called for. "No, it's alright," he uttered in haste. "I-it's alright."

"That didn't look like alright to me," said the girl. "What was that just now?"

"It's nothing to concern yourself with."

"If it's hurting you, I think it is." Blossom put a hand over his heart. "You're my boyfriend, remember?"

"I have not forgotten that detail," he replied. The boy tried to push her hand away, yet Blossom kept it in place. "But it would be best that you do not fret over minor details. It doesn't even hurt- just catches me by surprise. DeeDee was behaving in the same manner and she- Ngh!"

She felt it: A powerful thump from behind his ribs and the regular pulse resumed. The realization froze her own heart. "Aw Dex. . ."

There was a booming crack in the clouded sky. A chilling gale wuthered about the house. "It never lasts long if that's any consolation to you," he mumbled. "They are mere palpitations. I'll be healthy enough to return within a day or two."

"That's not healthy, Dex." Blossom cupped his cheek and gently ran her fingers in his hair. A certain hurt presented itself in her eyes. "You can't overwork yourself to the point where you get weaker. You can't even breathe right, it seems. What if you get something worse than an extra beat?"

Dexter inhaled deeply. "I'm sorry but-"

BOOM!

The light vanished. DeeDee screamed somewhere down the hall. Though temporarily blinded, Blossom could tell that Dexter had moved himself into a sitting position. "I never liked black-outs," he said plainly. "One moment please." There was a clattering as he dug about in the contents of the nightstand drawer. Not much later sparks began to fly in the dark. A soft glow now danced on a floor of wax. Dexter set the candle on the nightstand with his flint striker (apparently matches were overrated). He placed his chin in his hand, but then slid his palm over his own heart. The boy did not look to Blossom.

"Arrhythmia is nothing new to me, you know," he told her. "It's not even a serious complication in most cases. Worry is not a necessary emotion on your part. Why trouble yourself?"

Lightning flickered through the blinds again. The girl almost became angry with him for keeping something like this from her. Still, Blossom knew she had no right if he couldn't help it. She could hear his weary breath. The female gently took the boy by the shoulders and pressed him back into the pillows. Looking at him, Dexter seemed only more exhausted than before. Worry did not need to be necessary.

Blossom held herself over his body on her fours. One hand slipped behind his head, through his hair. "If I were injured somehow," she began, "wouldn't you worry about me?"

The only sounds in the candlelight were the pelting rain and Dexter's tired inhalations or air. She continued.

"We've been together for only two weeks, but you should know by now that I care about you." Blossom trailed her fingertips down the boy's neck. A small shiver was elicited. "I'm going to worry whether you like it or not. And I know you would, too. That's why we're together in the first place."

Her palm now rested in the curve of his collar. He took his own hand to cover her's. "I suppose that's evident," he said. "But I'm not suffering from a real illness. I feel terrible that you came this whole way for possible nothing. There really isn't much to do for this kind of cardiac irregularity."

The girl leaned in, her voice. "You still don't get it, to you?"

"Blossom. . ."

Her breath rested on his lips. "Maybe a different method then." She gripped his shoulder just a hair lighter than before. "Actions do speak louder than words."

At that point Dexter had relinquished total control to the girl. She could kiss or touch whatever she wanted and he wouldn't mind a single bit. He really couldn't fight her off anyway, even if he wanted to. Her osculations were gentle and slow, flavored with the faintest hint of a fruity lip balm. She brushed her fingers along his jawline softly. The scent of a vanilla perfume topped it off. Dexter's heart thudded faster now- probably not an optimal situation for one with an erratic heartbeat, but he had forgotten that part of the equation.

He wasn't necessarily distraught when Blossom turned her attention away from his lips- just let down, it seemed, and even that didn't last too long. The girl pressed his head to one side, making her way from his mouth to his cheek, and down the neck. Dexter clenched the covers in one hand. A small gasp escaped his mouth. The soft lips, the warm breath- he could feel it all to a more potent and pleasurable degree. Every part of his body suddenly became more limp than before. This must be what's it's like to melt, he realized. The boy lifted a hand to hold the back of her head, weaving his fingers in her silken locks. Please, just a bit longer. . .

We all know that these sorts of activities to not always correlate with love- they represent the emotion. But it's not like we can help it. Humans are social creatures. We need to touch and to hold. Harry Harlow called it "contact comfort", which should be a pretty self-explanatory term. But is there a reason that goes deeper than the pleasure? Is there a sort of relief we draw from the fact that someone wants to give you a simple hug? And would the other also benefit emotionally if the gesture were to be returned?

Dexter concluded "yes" to all three of these questions. In all his life, he had never known someone outside blood relations that would want to be so close. The boy continued to believe girls to be strange and frightful creatures all the way into the war. And here he was with the fairest, most patient, and most beautiful maiden, bequeathed to him and him alone. If the boy were to lose such a valuable treasure or even to squander it-

There was another pound in his chest and throat. Dexter cringed from the beat and it's disruption. What a way to ruin the moment, he thought shamefacedly. Blossom lifted her head up to look at him. The boy gave an embarrassed grin. "Sorry," he muttered, taking another deep breath.

Blossom didn't seem disturbed in any way. She pulled the collar of his shirt back, revealing the smooth, pale skin. The girl bent down. Dexter raised an eyebrow. What's she doing? A light pressure answered his question. Blossom looked up again with a smile on her face. "A kiss to make it better," she said softly.

Dexter chuckled. "That sort of treatment can't be supported by medical facts." He stroked her jawline. "But there's no harm anyway."

A peaceful silence passed. Blossom curled up and rested her head on Dexter's chest. "I'm making sure nothing else happens, k?"

"If you think you can prevent the excess beats, then by all means. Go ahead."

Pelting rain had waned into patting drops. Thunder became a docile grumble. Dexter looked to the window as he ran his fingers through Blossom's hair. "I thank you again," he said, "for putting up with me."

"It's not putting up with if I enjoy it."

The boy looked down to Blossom. An angelic face displayed a quintescent peace. Flawless skin, long eyelashes, warm lips- Dexter himself had become almost speechless. I've got the most wonderful girl in my arms. He tightened his grip and closed his eyes. If only I could keep it like this. . .

Quiet rain and vanilla perfume lulled the boy into a sweet sleep. No other palpitations disturbed him for the rest of the night.

Breakline

"Oh my gosh!"

"Seriously? I actually feel kinda bad for jinxing it."

Tuesday had reared it's head to a newly showered city square. The scent of rain hung in the air, thick as the humidity. Social workers of all kinds had already pitched a hand in removing the fallen trees responsible for the loss of power. The roar of chainsaws buzzed deafeningly, but the Powerpuff sisters passed by without paying too much attention.

"I'm not lying," Blossom told her sisters. "DeeDee said he worked all of the weekend and that's why he didn't come to school yesterday."

"I can't believe that could happen to someone our age," muttered Bubbles. "It would have been terrible if he fainted during class. Or worse. . ."

"But then again, this is Dexter we're talkin' about." Buttercup folded her arms behind her head as she walked. "It makes sense that he would work himself to that condition. But how did you get home anyway?"

"I flew. Duh."

"Point taken. So what about him? Dorkster showing up today?"

"Dorkster won't be," said a voice. "But I can assure you that Dexter will."

All three looked up. Blossom immediately grinned. Dressed in his usual sweater vest and slacks, Dexter leaned against the wooden fence that ran around the present block. His smile was warm and his gaze directed precisely on Blossom. Said girl gave a squeal and ran to him to scoop the boy into a hug. He simply laughed as she collided into his torso. Bubbles scampered up behind, while Buttercup strolled after.

"I heard what happened," exclaimed the blonde. "Are you sure it's ok to come back after just a day? Something bad could happen if you push yourself."

"You need not worry," he replied. "It's was arrhythmia, not a cardiovascular disease. The affliction has already lifted- I will be just fine today."

"Dude. English," commanded Buttercup as she came closer to the group.

"Buttercup, be nice. Heart problems are no joke."

"You know what? I'm starting to think you faked it just to get her alone. My sister. Blossom, what did he do to you?"

"What could he do to her- he couldn't even breathe right! Blossom said so herself."

"Blossom, you idiot! Don't defend him if he's doing funny things with you!"

"They weren't doing funny things, Buttercup. It's all in your yao-"

"SHADDAP!"

In the now heated argument, the couple in question had been ironically forgotten. Blossom looked to Dexter. "So are you sure you're going to be alright today? You know you can just take another day off if you don't feel up to it."

The boy shook his head. "I wouldn't have come to walk with you if I didn't. But I must say, the recovery time actually took less time than my previous cases of erratic heart behavior." He ruffled a patch of her hair. "Your methods have proved effective after all."

A rosy blush dusted her cheeks. "Well, if my services are needed again," she flirted, "I would be happy to set up another appointment."

"I think I should like that very much."

Dexter took Blossom's hand as they walked behind the still arguing siblings. The boy felt his heart flutter pleasantly, and knew it was not a trace from the prior cardiac malfunction.

Breakline

Should I apologize for putting a bunch of the heros in a single class? Hm. Maybe not. It is fusionfall. But what I should apologize for is any mistakes I've made about the arrhythmia. I had heard it was an irregular heartbeat brought on by stress, but required no medication. It's span is unknown to me at this time. Hopefully you all enjoyed the story anyway. Please do review and have a good day. :)

-Magician Irono