Catchup!

[essbeejay]

I missed one of ya'll's birthdays a week ago, and there's one coming up in another week, and there's another that's a complete mystery, seriously I have no idea when your birthday is D:

So! For juxtaposie , dee_lirious , and go_google_me . Three little drabbles about our three favorite girls (for three very talented ladies!).

/sucking up

Happy Birthday wishes to all of you, whenever they may be.

Title(s): One Day...
Pairing: RrB/PpG
Rating: Anywhere from PG to R (for language)
Parts: Three of Three
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine nor has been, ever.
Summary: A day in the life of... um. Well.
Notes: For juxtaposie 's, dee_lirious 's, and go_google_me 's birthdays. Un-beta'd.


One Day
sbj

One Day, Blossom Fancies Herself a Cat.

“What are you doing.” Brick narrowed his eyes at his brothers and the familiar teenage girl curled up at their feet.

Boomer looked up, eyes wide. “Dude! A cat got into the house!”

Brick stared at a bleary-eyed Blossom, who yawned and blinked at him.

He looked back at his brothers. “You two better be shitting me.”

“Hel-lo?” Butch grabbed her under the arms and lifted her up, holding her out to Brick. She hissed her discontent and started to wriggle in his grip. “Cat.” He dropped her to the floor, where she landed with the most graceful thump she could muster. “In the house.” Butch furrowed his brow as Blossom skittered to the couch and gave him one last dirty look before licking her wrist and rubbing it against her head.

A very baffled Brick directed his gaze from her to his brothers. “You’re not shitting me. You actually… you actually see a cat.”

“We were gonna toss her out, but she put up a fuck of a fight,” Butch said, pulling down his collar to expose the side of his neck. Brick could see some distinct, nasty looking scratches.

He considered asking how the hell she managed to scratch him when she had nail-less mitts for hands, but they were obviously seeing something completely different. Something that definitely wasn’t Blossom leaping to the top of the couch and stretching herself out as she carefully watched Brick.

Maybe he just wasn’t fully awake yet.

“Whatever,” he said, shaking his head and starting for her. “In any case, there’s no Goddamn way she’s staying in the house—”

Blossom sat up suddenly, the bow on her head seeming to twitch—as if they were ears—and her gaze was bright and alert as Brick came up to her, his own eyes grim and set.

He made to grab her by what would have been the scruff of her neck, but she snaked out of the way, instead putting a mitt on his head and gently pushing. The weight of her threw him, and he took a step back to regain his balance. She dove suddenly for the space under his neck that had just opened up and… nuzzled him.

He froze. She started purring.

His brothers were awed. “Whoa, dude,” Boomer said. “She loves you.”

There was a sudden blast of red, and then Brick was at the door to his room, glaring daggers at the cat/girl who had ducked behind his brothers’ legs in an effort to dodge the blow. She peered at him curiously, unperturbed.

“Raow?” she queried, cocking her head.

“Get her out of here,” he snapped, before slamming the door.

His brothers looked at each other. “Huh,” Butch shrugged. Blossom padded softly toward Brick’s door and dolefully sat in front of it, her bow-ears twitching. “Guess he’s not a cat person.”

***

One Day, Bubbles Fancies Boomer a Dog.

“Look what I found!” Bubbles shrieked giddily, dragging a choking Boomer into the house. “The cutest puppy-wuppy in the whole wide world!”

Blossom, Buttercup, and the Professor stared. Boomer gagged, desperate for air.

“Isn’t he adorable?” Bubbles held him up for inspection, and her family backed away as Boomer gasped.

“I’m not a dog!” he wheezed.

“That is not a dog,” her family said in one voice.

“Bubbles…” the Professor started—

Her face fell.

“Did you just wake up stupider today?” Buttercup asked dryly, eyes on Boomer as he tried to bodily drag himself out the door. Bubbles was remarkably resilient for a pouting girl.

“No more than usual,” she said petulantly, arms wound tight around Boomer’s waist as he dug grooves into the floor.

“What on Earth makes you think he’s a dog?” Blossom demanded.

“Well, I know he’s a little weird looking—”

“Hey!” Boomer paused in his futile escape efforts to direct a scathing glare at Bubbles.

“But I saw him in the park, and he was just so cute, and there’s like no collar or nothing so I thought, ‘Oh no, a homeless puppy, and unless I save him and take care of him and love him forever and ever he’s gonna die!’ So I had to!”

The sane girls and their father exchanged looks. Boomer looked on the verge of tears of surrender.

The Professor finally said, “I need a moment in the kitchen. Do not go anywhere,” he said firmly to Bubbles, before leaving the room. The girls heard something uncorking, followed by a lot of chugging.

Blossom shook her head. “Look, Bubbles…”

“Blossom! Look at how precious he is—”

“No. You cannot keep him,” Blossom said sharply.

Bubbles wibbled. “But I swear I’ll take care of him! I’ll take him on walks and I’ll bathe him—”

Boomer’s eyes went wide while Blossom and Buttercup shrieked, “Absolutely not!”

“—And I won’t let him run around in the house, I can keep him in my room—”

”ABSOLUTELY NOT!” The Professor bellowed, suddenly appearing in the kitchen door.

“But I love him!” Bubbles cried, crushing Boomer’s face to her chest.

A frightening chill descended upon them as Blossom, Buttercup, and the Professor gaped and screamed at a pitch no human could hear.

Boomer, whose face was a furious blush now, considered his current state.

“Um. Woof.”

***

One Day, Buttercup Fancies Herself a Pirate.

Lunch was just getting started at Townsville High when the doors were suddenly blown open, and a far more decorated Buttercup—clad from head to foot in full-garbed pirate regalia—brandished a fierce looking sword. Bubbles was bound and gagged at her side, while Blossom looked tired and irritated.

“Ahoy!” Buttercup shouted gleefully, as the cafeteria settled into a dumbfounded stupor.

Butch spit out his food into Boomer’s hair and started cackling.

“A fine mess of landlubbers we ‘ave ‘ere today,” Buttercup considered, sashaying into the otherwise catatonic room. “You!” she barked suddenly, directing her sword at the lunchlady behind the counter. “A spot of grog for me an’ me first mate.”

“I am NOT your first mate,” Blossom sighed.

“You’re not a first anything!” Brick shouted, because he had to contradict everything Blossom said.

“Was I talking to you?!” Blossom shouted back.

“Buttercup, I’m pretty sure you’re too young to be having ‘grog,’” the lunchlady said in a bored tone.

“Yo ho ho! No lily-livered lass, this! Refusin’ the service of us gentlemen of fortune—”

“Last I checked, you were a chick!” Butch barked from across the lunchroom, and Pirate Buttercup swiveled round, narrowing her eyes.

With a flying leap and a streak of green, she shot into the air and landed on the table, snapping it in half and sending students flying.

She stooped in her fabulous knee high pirate boots and peered at Butch from underneath the brim of her fabulous pirate hat. “Shiver me timbers,” she said in a dark voice, “we ‘ave ‘ere a fine scallywag on our ‘ands.”

Butch found it hard to stifle another laugh.

As he laughed hysterically, Buttercup straightened and darted a look at Blossom. “Arr, matey!” she called out. “What say ye to—”

“Buttercup!” A very pissed off Principal was stalking towards her, his eyes livid. “What on Earth do you think you’re doing?!”

She shouldered her sword and haughtily tossed up her head. “Why, I be piratin’, me good sir. As any respectful buccaneer ought to—”

“You are not a pirate! I will not tolerate this nonsense in my school!”

“I’ve got a note,” she said abruptly, tucking the tip of her sword into her jacket and producing a thin sheet of paper at the end of it.

The Principal took it and examined it.



Dear Principal,

Please excuse Buttercup today. She thinks she is a pirate.

Sincerely,
Professor Utonium



The Principal stared at it. Buttercup resumed pirating.

“As I was sayin’! First mate! What say ye to addin’ this scurvy dog to our fine crew?”

Butch stopped laughing and gawked. Blossom was busy exchanging insults with Brick.

Buttercup tapped her foot. “First mate!”

Blossom was shouting herself blue at Brick and paid her sister no mind.

“Ver’ well! To Davy Jones with ye!” she bellowed, then turned to Butch. “Well then! It appears we ‘ave an opening for first mate!”

“I’m not gonna be your first mate!” Butch scoffed. He nodded at Boomer. “Ask that guy.”

She turned to Boomer, who had just gotten the last of the food scraps out of his hair. “Arr, me hearty. Care to spare ‘im for me crew?”

“That wasn’t what I meant!” Butch cried.

Boomer considered. “It’ll cost you.”

Buttercup beckoned at Bubbles, who rolled her eyes, but dutifully came running.

“A fine lass for a fine shipmate,” Buttercup said, pushing Bubbles towards Boomer.

“Done,” he said with conviction, and tossed Butch into her arms. “Best booty ever!” he said gleefully as he swept Bubbles off her feet and shot out of the cafeteria.

“You traitor!” Butch called out after him as Buttercup chained him to his seat. He looked at her. “I can break these, you know.”

“Ye’ll not be wantin’ to, mark me words,” she said pointedly, then sat herself next to him. “Now then! As yer nothin’ more than a sprog, I’ve some words o’ wisdom to be dispensin’ to ye.”

“‘Sprog?’” Butch furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Firs’ rule! Listen to yer cap’n. That’d be me.”

Butch rolled his eyes and broke the chain.

Buttercup instantly produced another and chained him again.

“What the—”

“Second rule!” she interrupted. “No mutiny! Or I’ll turn the cat o’ nine tails on ye, I will.”

Butch paused mid-break and lifted his head. “You’ve got a whip?” he said, interested.

“Third rule!” she barked. “No wenchin’ about for ye!” She indicated the scattered girls still attempting to eat their lunch in peace.

He looked a bit put out. “No wenching? What for?”

She pushed her hat back and leaned in close, her eyes deep and intent. He blinked, taken aback at the austerity of her gaze.

“Because,” she said, her voice deep and husky and suggesting something very dark and threatening, “yer captain’s the only lass ye’ll be needin’ to attend to from ‘ere on.”

She sat back. Butch stared.

“Arr,” she said, tipping her hat back into place and doing a very bad job of hiding a smirk. “Captain’s orders.”

-fin-