Back in business.
Fic Friday, with a fucking vengeance.
More Than Human, ch5
part 1
part 2
part 3
Title: More Than Human
Chapter 5: He Knows How to Use It, or Lonesome When You Go
Pairing: RrB/PpG
Rating: R, because they're teenagers and a good handful of them use terrible, filthy language.
Disclaimer: Pay your respect to Craig, not me.
Summary: There is no way I can make this sound original, ever. My attempt to write a believable RrB/PpG in high school fic. Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal. - Camus
Notes: For![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mathkid and juxtaposie, who werk that beta magic like nobody else's business and, in one case, know way more about tennis than I ever will.
More Than Human, Pt. 1 - Junior Spring Semester
May – He Knows How to Use It or Lonesome When You Go
-sbj-
Blossom was flung into the side of a building, hard. Plaster cracked, spilled onto her. She coughed and sped off screen, back towards the monster. Maria Santiago was reporting live from the scene of the attack.
“The battle you see behind me has been raging on for nearly ten minutes, and it looks like the Powerpuff Girls currently have the advantage. As you can see, they have cornered—”
A sudden monster scream cut her off, and the rest of her news crew flinched. Maria barely batted an eyelash and barreled on. She'd been doing this for ten years; she'd had time to acclimate herself to the danger of the job. Frankly, she loved it. She'd take the scene of a monster attack over safe, boring reporting from the news desk any day.
“It won't be long now before they dispose of the creature,” she finished.
“Now Maria,” the voice in her headset said, “do you have any details on how the monster got into the city in the first place?”
“I have yet to confirm this, but as with the previous monster attacks over the past year, it looks like this is due to a lapse in the citywide monster barrier currently being finessed by Professor Utonium, father to the Powerpuff Girls.”
“Can you describe to our viewers the details of that barrier and why this lapse would occur?”
“Certainly, Stan.” Inwardly, Maria rolled her eyes. He'd had her do this for the last six monster attacks; it should've been common knowledge among the citizens by now. Stan was a stickler for keeping the people informed, though—a good quality for a newscaster to have.
“The invisible barrier emits a frequency that, while undetectable to the human ear, repels eighty percent of the monsters Townsville would receive were the barrier not up. The frequency is emitted in pulses but occasionally the barrier experiences lapses resulting in a situation like the one you see behind me. This monster, like the ones that have attacked over the last year, demonstrates significant resiliency, supporting Professor Utonium's theory that those monsters that do push through the barrier are tougher and stronger than your typical class of monster.”
A sudden, earthshaking thud resounded behind her, and Maria instantly whipped on the goggles she had clipped to her belt, turning and covering her mouth as a wave of dust rolled out over them.
The rest of her crew coughed as Maria stepped up to the camera and wiped the lens with her sleeve.
“The monster has been defeated! Let's go see if we can talk to the girls.”
Without waiting for her crew, Maria sprinted down five city blocks in heels, arriving at the scene even before her van. She took the goggles off as her crew pulled up and waved at Blossom as she and her sisters inspected the knocked out monster.
“Blossom! Could we have a word?”
The girl recognized her and quickly flew down, looking immaculate save for a spot of dirt on her cheek. “Maria, hi.”
“Tell us about today's monster attack. Was it a difficult one?” Maria liked talking to Blossom; she was always well-composed and press-ready.
Blossom smiled politely. “Difficult when compared to the past ten years' worth of monster attacks, but when compared to the past year alone, I'd say this one ranks about average.”
“Now, during the attack, what was going through—”
“There!”
“Blossom!”
“Blossom, how're you doin'? There's this rumor...”
Maria and Blossom were suddenly awash in a sea of yammering cameramen, and as the sea spit Maria back out next to her crew, she huffed and grimaced.
“Good-for-nothing paparazzi,” she muttered.
***
“Hey Blossom, so what's this I hear about a boyfriend?”
“What?”
“He's cute, right? You guys make a good lookin' couple!”
“How do you know that?!”
“How many dates have you guys gone on?”
“Has he kissed you?”
“What?! What kind of question is—”
“How does he feel about you risking your life to protect him? I mean, what kind of guy is he, letting his girl—”
“Is he comfortable with your celebrity status?”
“Are you both going out tonight?”
“Are you in love with him?”
Brick groaned; he'd had enough. “Butch, turn that God damn thing off.” Maria Santiago appeared in front of the camera—it was on the news, it was her cameraman watching—and she had a look on her face that suggested she was going to have a new cameraman next broadcast.
Butch pouted at him from in front of the TV as they cut back to the newsdesk. “No way. This is great. You see how flustered she's getting? Hot.”
Brick glanced at the screen. Apparently they were having a tech issue and hadn't cut off the sound feed. Bubbles had come to help her sister out; he could hear her nattering about school, sidestepping any relationship questions with statements about how cute bunnies were.
“What can you tell us about your sister's new beau, Bubbles?”
Bubbles said blithely, “They do look cute together, but bunnies, now, talk about cute—”
Brick stalked up to the TV and jabbed at the Power button. The screen flickered to black.
“Hey! I was watching that!”
“Go play outside with the rest of the kids,” Brick griped, snatching the remote from his brother's hands as Butch moved to turn it back on.
Butch grumbled to no end on his way out the door. After a minute, Brick turned back to the screen and powered it back on.
They'd solved the sound issue. The newscasters were in between segments, and the woman at the desk said conversationally to Stan, “He is a nice boy. Good student. Good couple. I personally approve.”
Brick turned it off, staring at the blank screen until he heard the phone in his room ring. He dashed in, spotting Mrs. Morbucks' name on the ID.
“Brick, hello,” the woman said as soon as he'd picked up, and without waiting for a greeting. “Listen, I'm currently out of the country, but there are some important matters I'd like to discuss with you when I get back.”
“Is... is that so?” he asked, a little caught off guard.
“Yes. I'm back at the end of the month. Clear your schedule. I'll be in touch.”
***
“I hope that never happens to me again,” Blossom groaned, sinking onto her bed.
“It'll be awhile,” Bubbles said as she examined her hair in the vanity. “When I first started going out with Mike they followed us around everywhere. It was impossible to find time with each other.”
Blossom laid on her side and curled her knees up to her chest, shooting Buttercup a look as she perched on her own bed. “They didn't give Buttercup such a hard time when she went out with Mitch.”
Before the girl in question could respond, Bubbles cut in. “Yeah, well, Buttercup had to go and rough up a few guys and break several thousand dollars' worth of expensive cameras. They were off her case in a matter of days.”
“I did it in the interest of privacy,” Buttercup added. “They started leaving Bubbles alone. Eventually.”
Blossom raised herself up on her elbows. “Yeah, Bubbles. They stopped bugging you after, what, your third boyfriend? And they haven't even bothered with your breakup.”
“I've been doing this longer than you,” Bubbles said. “You're the last one of us to ever have a boyfriend. Now you suddenly have one. Big news in their world.”
“Their tiny, shallow, scab-of-human-nature world,” Buttercup grumbled, rustling around for a magazine to read.
“How's everything going with Kris, anyway?” Bubbles asked. “I mean, you do keep blushing every time someone asks you about him.”
Blossom blushed and sputtered, “I-I'm just not used to it! Things are, you know, fine and stuff. I guess. I don't know, I don't exactly have a personal frame of reference to base the experience on!”
Bubbles giggled. “Oh my God, Blossom, you are so cute!”
The trill of Bubbles' cell phone rang, and she reached for it, pausing as she read Boomer's name on the little screen.
She flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Heaven? Could you send an angel my way? Preferably one named Bubbles, I'm pretty particular about these things.”
Bubbles subdued her smile and rolled her eyes, mouthing Boomer at the rest of the room. Blossom frowned. Buttercup lazily flipped a page of her magazine.
“Let me check in the stockroom,” Bubbles said, then held the phone away from her head for a second. “Nope, sorry, fresh out.”
“'Fresh out?' I saw one on TV just ten minutes ago!”
“And what exactly do you need an angel for?” Bubbles asked.
“Company. I'm about to go karaoke with some friends a whole bunch. We need one final piece to make the group complete.” He deepened his voice and rumbled, “Join us, Bubbles.” After a slight pause, he added, “You know, your name really doesn't lend itself to a deep, masculine voice of evil.”
With an exaggerated sigh, Bubbles said, “I suppose I can make an appearance.”
“OMG yes much?”
She laughed. “I'll see you later, Boomer.” She could feel Blossom's eyes on her as she set her phone down and shot her sister a beatific smile.
“I thought you weren't dating,” Blossom said.
“It's not a date,” Bubbles said, examining her makeup. “There will be tons of other people there.”
“Then why are you fussing with your makeup?”
“I need to fix it. We did just finish fighting a monster, like half an hour ago.”
“You fixed it when you got home, and now you're fixing it again?”
“I've got, you know, normal day makeup, monster fighting makeup, and going out with friends makeup.”
Blossom groaned and flopped on her other side, facing the wall. “You're so vain.”
“You probably think this song is about you,” Buttercup quipped.
“Anyway, I'll see you guys later,” Bubbles said, flying over to the closet to rummage for a light jacket.
“I don't think you should date him,” Blossom said to the wall.
“I'm not dating him,” Bubbles said in a slow, deliberate voice. “I am just meeting up with him and a bunch of friends. He is a friend. We are just friends.”
Blossom muttered something unintelligible, which Bubbles chose to ignore.
“Bye!”
Blossom and Buttercup grunted as their sister left. Blossom glanced at the clock.
“Oh! I forgot, I'm meeting Kris at the library.”
“You two are, I swear, the most boring couple in the history of forever,” Buttercup said, setting down her magazine.
“We've got AP exams and finals coming up,” Blossom pointed out. “We need study sessions.” She shot her sister a look. “Actually, I'm pretty sure you'd benefit from having a few yourself.”
“Thank you for your input, Fearless Leader.”
Blossom sighed. “Not my fault if you fail and can't do Athletics next year, Buttercup.”
“Your concern. It touches me.”
“See you.”
Buttercup sat up, listening to the front door slam as Blossom left. She rifled through a few more magazines, bored out of her skull. Finally, after glancing at her sisters' empty beds several times, she extracted her phone from her pocket and dialed.
“What's the shake?” the voice on the other line said.
“Butch, you talk like a dumbass,” Buttercup said. “Whatcha up to?”
“Nothing. You?”
“Boredom. Feel like a shake?”
“You only want one because I said 'shake' earlier.”
“Did you? Damn you and your subliminal messages.”
“You on your way or what?”
“Already there,” Buttercup said as she sped out the door. “See you in a few.”
***
Bubbles flew to school by her lonesome the following morning. Buttercup was taking forever, and Kris had picked Blossom up. Bubbles had done her sister a favor by ushering the Professor out the door before he could bear witness to it.
She spotted Boomer chatting with the friends who had accompanied them last night. His face was bright—he wore bright well—and the morning sun was only adding to the effect. Bubbles smiled.
“That was fun last night,” she called out, catching the group's attention as she crossed the school parking lot to join them.
Boomer turned and brightened even more at the sound of her voice. “Morning! Of course it was fun. If there's anything we do right, it's fun. Also dating. Wanna date?”
“No,” she said stoutly, stepping onto the curb just as a flash of red roared by. Her skirt suddenly whipped up and she shrieked, dropping her books to keep her hair from flying about. Brick swerved into a parking spot and killed his engine.
“Oh, my hair is a mess,” Bubbles groaned, swiping it out of her face before patting down her skirt. Boomer was fixated on her legs.
“So are your legs. I can help you fix those.”
“Ha. Ha.”
He grinned and dove to help Bubbles with her books before anyone else could offer.
Back over by Brick's parking spot, he jumped out and bumped—literally—into Blossom as she exited Kris' car in the spot right next to Brick.
His hip bumped into hers and they both froze. Neither had enough room to edge out without physical contact occurring unless one of them went back into their car.
Brick scowled. Fuck that.
“Move it,” he growled, and muscled past, practically flattening Blossom against Kris' car as he did so.
“Excuse you,” Blossom scoffed, then was suddenly pulled along by her waist. Both she and Brick stopped and looked down to find his keys, half hanging out of his pocket, hooked onto a loose thread of Blossom's jeans. After exchanging a look, they tried to pull away from each other to no avail.
“For fuck's sake,” Brick muttered, reaching to untangle them just as Blossom reached to do the same. Their hands bumped into each other's and oh come on, this was not happening.
“Watch your language,” Blossom snapped.
“Is everything okay?” Kris asked, coming around the front of his car.
Blossom flushed red—an act that did not go unnoticed by Brick—and said, “It's fine, Kris, we're just—just stuck.”
“Get your hands out of my way,” Brick grumbled, and grabbed his keys in one hand and her belt loop in the other (she bit back a yelp and blushed more), snapping the hooked thread and finally freeing them both. Brick shoved his keys completely into his pocket, making the mistake of glancing at Blossom as he did so. Her gaze flickered from Kris to him.
He made a little noise of disgust and turned away, shouldering past Kris as he muttered, “God damn fucking spaces are too God damn fucking small.”
“I can hear you cursing!” Blossom scolded as she joined Kris.
“Oh, good, you listening?” Brick turned and hollered, “Go to fucking hell!”
“What is with that guy?” Kris said, furrowing his brow. “He's been like this ever since Prom. What's wrong with him?”
“Are you kidding? What isn't?” Blossom muttered, weaving her arm in Kris' and so, so glad that he was nothing like the jerk that had just ruined her morning. Further down near the school's side entrance, Alicia, the Dance Major, caught her eye and waved.
“I got news for you!” Alicia hollered.
Blossom laughed nervously, then adopted a more panicked expression and said, as if realizing something, “The Induction Dance...”
Kris glanced at her. “What was that?”
“Uh, nothing... just... remembered something...” Blossom said, her gaze fixed furtively on Alicia. She grasped Kris' arm and quickened her pace as her Dance Major began to move in their direction. “Come on, Kris!”
They passed by Boomer and Bubbles just as he handed her the last of her books.
“There,” Boomer said proudly.
“Thank you,” Bubbles said.
“You're welcome. Does that mean I've earned a date now?”
“Boomer—” Bubbles started, then paused, glancing over his shoulder. Boomer turned to see Will and his group entering the school. A tense moment passed, but Will resumed walking without so much as a look in their direction. Bubbles bit her lip, clenching her books to her chest as she shuffled to the side and a little away from Boomer.
As he passed Boomer, Will muttered, “Asshole.”
“Douchebag,” Boomer chirped back. The rest of Will's group was silent as they passed by.
“Wait, are we giving each other nicknames now?!” Butch touched down beside them. He clapped a hand on Boomer's shoulder. “Morning, Fuckface!”
Boomer considered. “I think I preferred Asshole.”
“Those aren't very nice words,” Bubbles pouted.
Butch's eyes lit up. “Don't worry about it, Pri—OWF!”
Boomer had punched Butch in the mouth. “Oops. Hand slipped.”
“I was going to say 'Princess,' you ass! What the hell?!”
“Morning,” Buttercup yawned as she landed.
“Hey,” Bubbles and Boomer greeted. Butch got that mischievous look in his eyes again.
“Morning, Shithead,” he said, grinning.
Buttercup punched him in the face. “Fuck you, Pencildick.”
Boomer clapped politely as Buttercup shoved her friend aside. “I think Shithead wins that one.”
“Were we keeping score?” Buttercup asked, bored. The four of them shuffled into school and split off into twos, Butch with Buttercup and Boomer with Bubbles.
Again, Bubbles and Boomer passed by Will and his group, who issued them both several Death Glares as they walked by. One of the girls muttered something under her breath that Bubbles didn't catch, but Boomer did, and he whirled on her, taut with anger.
Bubbles grabbed his arm and pulled him along.
“Did you hear that?” he hissed, still glaring over his shoulder.
Bubbles sighed. She didn't handle being disliked well.
“I don't know what I ever saw in him,” she muttered sadly, ignoring Boomer's question. He glanced at her. “If this is the kind of person he is now... I mean, how could I not have noticed that before? Like a year ago?”
“Cheer up,” Boomer said, bumping his shoulder into hers. “He blinded you with science. Um, football science.” He started to hum Springsteen's Blinded by the Light. “Blinded by the football science...”
She stifled a giggle and gave him a look. “You're so silly, I swear!”
“Aw, I thought I was being clever. I jammed two song references into one line, come on!”
Bubbles smiled at him, feeling a little melancholy. After some consideration, she said softly, “I'm going to miss you when you're gone.”
“Of course you will,” Boomer said without skipping a beat. “I'm awesome. And very date-worthy, did I mention?”
“We should do something—all of us, I mean. Before you guys go. Hey, have you ever been to the beach?”
He fake-gasped. “You're kidding. There's only one?”
She ignored that and continued, “Let's go to the beach! Next month, once school lets out. And we're done with the musical. You know.”
Boomer grinned. “Whatever you say. It's a date.”
“It's a beach party,” she clarified.
“It's a date involving multiple people in swimsuits. Gotcha.”
They continued their friendly bickering all the way into dance rehearsal, at least until Blossom got after them.
“Pay attention, you guys, honestly! You're in the main cast, you ought to be getting some of this right!”
Bubbles and Boomer adopted sheepish expressions as they, along with a slew of other students in the musical, blocked out their moves with Blossom in the studio. They ran through the big dance number a couple of times with no interruptions, which put Blossom in a much better mood.
“You guys in the back need to be hitting it harder—here, let's do it again. Can you see me? Let me move...” Blossom edged to the left and led the room once more into the routine.
When her sister wasn't looking, Bubbles said in a low hiss of a voice, “I can't believe the musical's at the end of the month.”
“You nervous?” Boomer muttered out of the side of his mouth.
“Not yet. I probably will be on performance night. But I was talking about how fast everything went.” After a pause, she added, “It's been an eventful semester.”
“Good eventful or bad eventful?”
She glanced at him. “A little of both.”
They finished their routine and Blossom checked her watch. “Okay, that was pretty good. Did you guys want to try that out with singing, or practice another piece...?”
“Can we take five first?” Boomer suggested, and several students voiced their agreement.
“More like three,” Blossom said. “But sure, take five. After that we'll have just enough time to do one more thing—”
“Some of us can skip Choir to practice,” Bubbles said as a number of students began to disperse and chat. “I mean, unless you have something to do in Dance, Blossom.”
Blossom considered. “I could spare some time.”
Boomer tapped Bubbles. “I'm going to grab something from the machines. You want anything?”
“No, thanks.”
As he darted out the door Blossom came up and scolded gently, “More than practicing, though, you ought to be studying for exams.”
Bubbles immediately pouted and huffed, “I study.”
“You've been at every early morning rehearsal and afternoon rehearsal,” Blossom said flatly. “And I've seen you practicing during lunch, too. And at home. This studying you're talking about—when exactly is it happening?”
“Whenever you're not looking,” Bubbles said with confidence, then turned. “I'm going to go get a drink of water real quick.”
“Don't avoid the subject! Study some after rehearsal!”
Bubbles stepped out of the studio, waving at several people who greeted her as she passed through the dance locker room. She rounded the corner into the hall and stopped for a drink at the fountain. When she was finished, she heard it—a tiny clatter, then something that sounded suspiciously like a laser...
Tensing, she tried to figure out where it was coming from—the other locker room. The cheerleaders' locker room. She frowned and floated over to the door, muscles at the ready just in case—
Boomer suddenly whipped around the doorframe and she yelped, grabbing his collar on reflex.
After a moment she sighed. “Geez, you scared me!”
He glanced at her fist, drawn back and ready to strike. “Speak for yourself.”
She let go and laughed, then paused. “What... what were you doing? I thought you were going to the machines.”
“Got lost,” he responded.
“In the cheerleaders' locker room?”
He pouted. “You caught me. I was peeking. If it makes you feel better, though, it was empty.”
She stared at him a moment longer. “Shame on you,” she finally said. “Come on. Let's get back before Blossom skins us alive.”
Boomer flew ahead of her, and she glanced back at the door he'd emerged from, her frown returning.
***
Dance rehearsal was interrupted by a chorus of screams echoing in the hall outside. Everybody halted, and Blossom zipped to the door to investigate just as a group of shrieking girls appeared.
“Girls, calm down!” Blossom shouted. “What's wrong?! What happened?!”
They were cheerleaders; Bubbles recognized them from the squad. Ashley, sporting a very fashionable hairstyle—really, her hair was growing out quite nicely—spotted her, and pointed an accusatory finger.
“You!”
Bubbles blinked. “What?”
Ashley stalked up to her, flanked by several other cheerleaders. “It was you, wasn't it?! Just because you broke up with Will!”
“I don't know what you're talking about—”
“I don't buy your stupid innocent act for a second! You ditched us, you ditched Will, and now you've gone and ruined them—”
“Ruined what?!” Bubbles cried.
“Our new uniforms for Internationals!” Ashley shrieked.
Bubbles gaped at her, horrified on behalf of the entire squad. “What happened? What do you mean?”
“Stop playing dumb! You were one of us, you knew we were getting new uniforms in time for Internationals! You knew they were coming this month! And then you pull this stupid stunt, all because you got pissed off with Will—”
Bubbles' heart plummeted. Boomer.
“Calm down!” Blossom urged, appearing at her sister's side. “What happened to the uniforms?”
“They're completely shredded!” Ashley screeched. “The boxes they arrived in were fine, but when we opened them up it was nothing but, but pieces of uniform!”
“And you're accusing Bubbles of doing this?”
“Yes!”
Blossom's gaze had gone stony and cold. “Why?” she said flatly.
“Because she knew they were coming—”
“Bubbles has been here in practice the entire time,” Blossom interrupted. “And besides that, she wouldn't sabotage you for such petty, stupid reasons—”
“You all think she's so friggin' innocent!” Ashley exploded. “She isn't! She played Will! He was her boyfriend and she kept hanging out with this jerk—”
Ashley's finger went in Boomer's direction, and he dashed in front of Bubbles and shouted, “That's no fucking reason to call her a slut!”
Bubbles' eyes widened at the realization. This morning. Boomer had looked so angry. No wonder. Bubbles felt as if someone had cut her open and knifed her in the heart.
Blossom turned on the girls and screamed, “You called my sister what?!”
Ashley was looking at Boomer, revelation in her eyes. “You! You did it!”
“What, wrecked your stupid costumes?! What the hell do I care? Why would I even waste my time on bitches like you?!”
Bubbles grabbed Boomer's arm and yanked him back. “Don't call them that!” she ordered.
“They deserve it!” he snapped, not looking at her. “You know what? Fine! I'll take credit for ruining your stupid costumes! It'd be a fucking honor!”
“And stop cursing!” Bubbles screamed, trying to bite back the truth—it was him, she'd seen him, he'd done it—
Ashley and the girls were screaming, and so was Boomer, and Blossom finally shoved him back and shouted at them, “Nobody who calls my sister a slut is a capable judge of character! She's not a slut, and she didn't ruin your uniforms! You've got over twenty witnesses here who can attest to it! We were and still are rehearsing, and just because you're upset doesn't mean you can interrupt us! Now get out of my studio!”
In a harried pink flash, Blossom had shut the door, and the cheerleaders were gone. She took a deep, furious breath, then looked at Bubbles.
“Did you do it?” she asked, eyes doubting. “You went to get a drink of water.”
“I didn't,” Bubbles croaked, making an effort not to look at Boomer.
Blossom's eyes immediately went to him. “Did you?” she said, icicles practically dripping off her words.
Bubbles glanced at him. His expression was serious, his voice level as he said, “No.”
They resumed practice as best they could, Boomer's lie ringing in Bubbles' head.
***
Blossom walked into Calculus not long after the bell for the passing period had rung. Brick was already seated at his desk, and they both made a point of ignoring each other as she took her seat across the room.
“Blossom!”
A few of the students looked up—Brick and Blossom included—to see the Company officers coming in. Blossom paled as they approached, too overcome with dread to notice Cindy glancing at a neutral Brick.
“H-Hey, guys,” Blossom stammered, bracing her hands against the edge of her desk for support.
“Girl, you are not getting outta this,” Alicia scolded, arms crossed.
Blossom persisted. “Class is going to start in three minutes—”
“We'll take two,” Alicia said.
“Guys, can't this wait till after practice today—”
“All of us have exams coming up, so half of us are skipping dance practices left and right to study as it is. Now's as good a time as any.”
Mel leaned over Alicia's shoulder and added, “It's inevitable, Blossom. You can't stop it from happening.”
Blossom's shoulders slumped and she sighed. “Okay...” she mumbled, looking up at Alicia. “What's next year's Officer Induction Dance going to be?”
Alicia grinned. “Cheer up. You'll make a fine Major.”
“I'm definitely earning it,” Blossom muttered.
“And you'll own the dance, of course.”
Mel was bouncing up and down, giddy with anticipation. She couldn't hold it in anymore. “It's burlesque-themed!”
If worse words had ever been spoken to her, Blossom was having serious trouble remembering them at the moment. She gaped at the girls, mortified as her eyes swept the room, taking in the very interested male portion of the class.
She regained her senses and hissed, “Absolutely not! You guys know how I feel about that, and besides, that is beyond inappropriate! My father is going to see this, for crying out loud!” Out of the corner of her eye she could see Brick fidget with his pencil before setting it firmly down.
“It's just themed, it's not like an actual burlesque show,” Alicia comforted, shooting Mel a harsh look. “Look, your music's going to be Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend—the Moulin Rouge one, not the Monroe one—”
“The latter of which is vastly superior to the former,” Blossom muttered.
“—And you're doing like the Satine thing, except... without the ridiculous swing and whatever.”
Blossom wondered if she looked as sick as she felt. “You know how they dress in burlesque shows.”
“You'll be totally covered.”
Mel nodded. “We know you have that, you know, nothing above the ankles or past the elbows thing going on.”
“Don't exaggerate,” Blossom said defensively.
“Seriously,” Mel went on, “it's no more than what you expose when you're wearing a swimsuit.”
This inspired a fresh round of horrified gaping from Blossom.
“Mel, you should probably stop talking,” Alicia said tersely.
“That's a lot!” Blossom cried.
“And the dancing isn't going to be risqué. Alicia's doing you proud in that department.”
Mel's attempt to comfort her fell on deaf ears. Blossom still felt sick. Sicker, even. Evidently it showed—in the next instant, the girls went motherly.
“Oh, Blossom, don't worry about it!”
“It'll be fun!”
“You'll do awesome.”
“You'll look awesome,” a male voice chimed in.
“Who said that?!” Blossom squeaked abruptly and with no small amount of indignant anger.
“And you can totally give me feedback while we're working on it over the summer,” Alicia said.
Cindy, who'd been quiet throughout the whole exchange, tugged at her fellow officers. “Hey, the bell's about to ring.”
The girls bid their goodbyes, sprinkling more assurances in there. Blossom managed a weak smile at them, which faded when she saw Cindy slow as she passed Brick's desk.
Brick, meanwhile, had been listening rather intently throughout the whole thing. He hadn't meant to. But it wasn't exactly every day that the word burlesque came up, particularly with regard to Blossom...
He realized someone was at his desk. Cindy. He glanced up at her.
“Hey,” she said quietly.
“Hey,” he said. She scurried out the door. Brick felt Blossom's heavy gaze bearing down on him. He looked at her.
She had full, pout-able lips, that when coated in red lipstick would stand out in perfect contrast to her fair skin. That red hair of hers, too—it'd just add to the effect, especially when she'd have all the lights on her at the performance. God, the performance. He was going to miss it. Based on the image in his head, it was going to be a damn shame, too.
The bell rang, interrupting his thoughts and their staring contest, and as the teacher brought class to attention Brick buried his eyes in his paper and scowled.
He'd miss it. So what? It wasn't like he gave a fuck either way.
***
“I know it was you.”
Boomer glanced at Bubbles as they sat together at lunch, waiting for their friends to arrive.
“Huh?”
Bubbles looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then directed her gaze at him. “I was there, Boomer. You ruined the uniforms, didn't you?”
He shrugged. “So?”
His immediate admittance and nonchalance caught her off guard; she'd expected at least a twinge of guilt, but there was no remorse in those friendly blue eyes. Funny how his response lessened the whole “friendly” effect. It reminded her of a five-year-old boy who'd kicked her around, beat her up because he'd had nothing better to do.
Her face fell. “Why did you do that?”
“They called you a bad name.”
She felt a little sting. She hadn't heard it, but she gathered it was probably true. She pushed past her hurt feelings and said, “You shouldn't have done it.”
“I wasn't about to let them get away with that.”
“It was only one girl! But what you did, it affected the entire squad! Internationals is a big deal, Boomer, we were so excited about those uniforms coming in—”
“They were, not you. You're not on the squad anymore.”
“But I would be, if it hadn't been—”
She caught herself and stopped as he looked at her. She'd dropped Cheer because she'd been asked to watch the boys. She'd dropped Cheer because of him.
“I was looking forward to it when I was on,” she said softly. “Besides that, I asked you not to hurt other people in my name, didn't I?”
“I didn't hurt anybody, I hurt things. They still have their old uniforms. They can use those. It's not like me destroying their uniforms is forcing them to go to Internationals naked!”
Bubbles groaned. “Boomer, that's not the point!”
“They shouldn't have called you a slut!”
She covered her face. “Could you please not say that out loud?”
“I'm not going to let anyone get away with calling you names, especially names you don't deserve,” he said in a voice too serious for him, a voice that didn't suit him.
She lowered her hands and stared at the table, unable to meet his eyes.
“I did it because I care about you,” he said, and she closed her eyes and sighed.
“If you really cared about me,” she said slowly, “you'd know I wouldn't want you to do something like that in the first place.”
She wasn't hungry, not in the least. She wasn't feeling social now, either, and could sense their friends approaching. She couldn't deal with this right now.
“I'm going to go study for my exams,” she said quietly, and left without a glance in Boomer's direction.
***
They were now a week into finals and Blossom was exercising some serious time management skills. With musical rehearsals piled on top of her regular dance practices, not to mention studying for her APs and final exams, Blossom was barely finding time to go out with Kris that didn't involve him waiting for her during rehearsals or studying together. He himself had a bunch of StuCo meetings going on, what with electing new officers for the next school year.
Next year. He'd be gone next year. Blossom didn't know how that was going to work out, if it was going to work out. When she thought about it, she didn't really expect them to stay together for her Senior year. Kris was a sweet guy, and a really great boyfriend, but...
Well, no matter. They were teenagers. It wasn't like they were going to get married or anything. It wasn't forever. They were only in high school, after all. They had a good time together, and it wasn't like dating just felt like another responsibility to Blossom—she'd been afraid that would happen, at first, and then had been surprised at how genuinely pleasant it was to go out with a nice boy like Kris. She was enjoying herself, despite the knowledge that he wouldn't be around next year.
Among others.
Blossom frowned as the thought crept into her mind early one morning on her way to school. Inevitably, every time she thought about Kris she thought about Brick. The revelation that the Rowdyruff Boys were leaving had confused her at first. She should've felt instant relief, but instead she'd felt an odd... something. Further reflection revealed that despite their animosity towards each other, she'd actually gotten used to the bickering.
The thought that she'd “gotten used” to someone like Brick was a little disheartening.
I wonder where he's going, she mused as she made her way up the steps of Townsville High. She should've looked into that. She'd meant to. What had distracted her?
Her mind was suddenly flooded with memories of dancing with him, the suit he'd worn to Prom, the weight of his hand on her waist.
She shook her head vigorously, her steps echoing in the halls of the mostly empty school. Chalk that up to hormones. No matter how much she prided herself on maturity, it was only natural for a teenage girl to get swept up in the... physicality of things.
I'm relieved he's leaving, she thought earnestly to herself. No more fighting, no more dancing, no more glaring or competition or general unpleasantness in my day-to-day life—
She stopped as she approached her locker, catching sight of Kris waiting for her there. He smiled and waved.
“Morning,” he said as she came up.
“Hey,” she said in mild surprise. “What are you doing here?”
He hunched his shoulders up and blushed. “Um, waiting for you.”
Blossom felt the expression on her face melt, and she sheepishly reached to open her locker. “Oh, Kris!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he laughed, holding her door open for her as she arranged her books.
“You're very sweet,” she told him. “Okay, I'm done. You can shut it.”
He did so and they started walking—where, Blossom didn't know. She just kind of started moving and Kris fell into step beside her. They walked in silence for a bit until she got uncomfortable about it and paused to examine an advertisement for the musical on somebody's locker. There was a note scribbled on the ad to Boomer—This must be his locker, Blossom realized—about the start time for this Friday's rehearsal being pushed back.
“Is that supposed to be a zombie chorus line? Because that xerox doesn't read at all,” she said, and Kris looked.
“No, not really.”
Silence settled over them again, and they stood there for a second, looking at each other. He bit his lip and tapped his fingers on the set of lockers they'd stopped by, and she cocked her head in curiosity. Suddenly he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers—a quick little peck, nothing to write home about. But by the time he pulled away she was as red as he was.
“W-what was that for?” she stammered.
He held her gaze for a moment, then looked down and, with his voice getting progressively softer with each word, said, “I... I just thought you looked really pretty...”
Blossom's face melted again and she smiled, resisting the urge to go, “Awww!” Kris was so nice and so sweet.
She pressed a hand to her warm chest and leaned forward herself, intending to reward him with a little kiss of her own—just on the cheek, she wasn't that bold yet—
“Excuse me,” Brick's voice said suddenly, a bitter edge to it, and she and Kris jumped, faces scarlet. Blossom felt her chest explode into rapid fire palpitations as she turned to Brick, but at least she had the sense to summon a little attitude.
“'Excuse you,' what?” she demanded, glaring at him for sneaking up on them, for interrupting them the way he had on purpose—
Brick narrowed his eyes at her and extended his arm, the metal popping as he placed a hand against the locker door right next to Blossom's head. She tensed, keenly feeling the proximity of his body, his arm cutting off her view of Kris.
“Excuse me,” he repeated, his voice echoing like a shudder in her chest and dripping with fake cordiality, “I need to get to my locker.”
She blinked, then stepped aside, watching as he slid his hand over to the combo she'd been concealing and twisted the dial.
“Come on, Blossom,” Kris said, and she felt his hand grasp hers. It took her a second to remember to grasp back.
As they turned and walked away, she heard Brick open, rustle, then shut his locker door. Then—
“Blossom.”
She halted abruptly, gripping Kris' hand to remind herself not to let go. She swiveled her head round to look at Brick, his gaze level and eyes hard.
“Yes?” she ventured.
“What exams are you taking?”
She clenched Kris' hand. “Why do you want to know?”
“So I know which ones to exempt myself from,” he said, and she scowled in disgust and jerked away.
“Let's go, Kris,” she muttered as she dragged her bewildered boyfriend along.
Brick was such a jerk. Such an egotistical, stupid jerk.
More Than Human, ch5
part 1
part 2
part 3
Title: More Than Human
Chapter 5: He Knows How to Use It, or Lonesome When You Go
Pairing: RrB/PpG
Rating: R, because they're teenagers and a good handful of them use terrible, filthy language.
Disclaimer: Pay your respect to Craig, not me.
Summary: There is no way I can make this sound original, ever. My attempt to write a believable RrB/PpG in high school fic. Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal. - Camus
Notes: For
mathkid and juxtaposie, who werk that beta magic like nobody else's business and, in one case, know way more about tennis than I ever will.More Than Human, Pt. 1 - Junior Spring Semester
May – He Knows How to Use It or Lonesome When You Go
-sbj-
Blossom was flung into the side of a building, hard. Plaster cracked, spilled onto her. She coughed and sped off screen, back towards the monster. Maria Santiago was reporting live from the scene of the attack.
“The battle you see behind me has been raging on for nearly ten minutes, and it looks like the Powerpuff Girls currently have the advantage. As you can see, they have cornered—”
A sudden monster scream cut her off, and the rest of her news crew flinched. Maria barely batted an eyelash and barreled on. She'd been doing this for ten years; she'd had time to acclimate herself to the danger of the job. Frankly, she loved it. She'd take the scene of a monster attack over safe, boring reporting from the news desk any day.
“It won't be long now before they dispose of the creature,” she finished.
“Now Maria,” the voice in her headset said, “do you have any details on how the monster got into the city in the first place?”
“I have yet to confirm this, but as with the previous monster attacks over the past year, it looks like this is due to a lapse in the citywide monster barrier currently being finessed by Professor Utonium, father to the Powerpuff Girls.”
“Can you describe to our viewers the details of that barrier and why this lapse would occur?”
“Certainly, Stan.” Inwardly, Maria rolled her eyes. He'd had her do this for the last six monster attacks; it should've been common knowledge among the citizens by now. Stan was a stickler for keeping the people informed, though—a good quality for a newscaster to have.
“The invisible barrier emits a frequency that, while undetectable to the human ear, repels eighty percent of the monsters Townsville would receive were the barrier not up. The frequency is emitted in pulses but occasionally the barrier experiences lapses resulting in a situation like the one you see behind me. This monster, like the ones that have attacked over the last year, demonstrates significant resiliency, supporting Professor Utonium's theory that those monsters that do push through the barrier are tougher and stronger than your typical class of monster.”
A sudden, earthshaking thud resounded behind her, and Maria instantly whipped on the goggles she had clipped to her belt, turning and covering her mouth as a wave of dust rolled out over them.
The rest of her crew coughed as Maria stepped up to the camera and wiped the lens with her sleeve.
“The monster has been defeated! Let's go see if we can talk to the girls.”
Without waiting for her crew, Maria sprinted down five city blocks in heels, arriving at the scene even before her van. She took the goggles off as her crew pulled up and waved at Blossom as she and her sisters inspected the knocked out monster.
“Blossom! Could we have a word?”
The girl recognized her and quickly flew down, looking immaculate save for a spot of dirt on her cheek. “Maria, hi.”
“Tell us about today's monster attack. Was it a difficult one?” Maria liked talking to Blossom; she was always well-composed and press-ready.
Blossom smiled politely. “Difficult when compared to the past ten years' worth of monster attacks, but when compared to the past year alone, I'd say this one ranks about average.”
“Now, during the attack, what was going through—”
“There!”
“Blossom!”
“Blossom, how're you doin'? There's this rumor...”
Maria and Blossom were suddenly awash in a sea of yammering cameramen, and as the sea spit Maria back out next to her crew, she huffed and grimaced.
“Good-for-nothing paparazzi,” she muttered.
***
“Hey Blossom, so what's this I hear about a boyfriend?”
“What?”
“He's cute, right? You guys make a good lookin' couple!”
“How do you know that?!”
“How many dates have you guys gone on?”
“Has he kissed you?”
“What?! What kind of question is—”
“How does he feel about you risking your life to protect him? I mean, what kind of guy is he, letting his girl—”
“Is he comfortable with your celebrity status?”
“Are you both going out tonight?”
“Are you in love with him?”
Brick groaned; he'd had enough. “Butch, turn that God damn thing off.” Maria Santiago appeared in front of the camera—it was on the news, it was her cameraman watching—and she had a look on her face that suggested she was going to have a new cameraman next broadcast.
Butch pouted at him from in front of the TV as they cut back to the newsdesk. “No way. This is great. You see how flustered she's getting? Hot.”
Brick glanced at the screen. Apparently they were having a tech issue and hadn't cut off the sound feed. Bubbles had come to help her sister out; he could hear her nattering about school, sidestepping any relationship questions with statements about how cute bunnies were.
“What can you tell us about your sister's new beau, Bubbles?”
Bubbles said blithely, “They do look cute together, but bunnies, now, talk about cute—”
Brick stalked up to the TV and jabbed at the Power button. The screen flickered to black.
“Hey! I was watching that!”
“Go play outside with the rest of the kids,” Brick griped, snatching the remote from his brother's hands as Butch moved to turn it back on.
Butch grumbled to no end on his way out the door. After a minute, Brick turned back to the screen and powered it back on.
They'd solved the sound issue. The newscasters were in between segments, and the woman at the desk said conversationally to Stan, “He is a nice boy. Good student. Good couple. I personally approve.”
Brick turned it off, staring at the blank screen until he heard the phone in his room ring. He dashed in, spotting Mrs. Morbucks' name on the ID.
“Brick, hello,” the woman said as soon as he'd picked up, and without waiting for a greeting. “Listen, I'm currently out of the country, but there are some important matters I'd like to discuss with you when I get back.”
“Is... is that so?” he asked, a little caught off guard.
“Yes. I'm back at the end of the month. Clear your schedule. I'll be in touch.”
***
“I hope that never happens to me again,” Blossom groaned, sinking onto her bed.
“It'll be awhile,” Bubbles said as she examined her hair in the vanity. “When I first started going out with Mike they followed us around everywhere. It was impossible to find time with each other.”
Blossom laid on her side and curled her knees up to her chest, shooting Buttercup a look as she perched on her own bed. “They didn't give Buttercup such a hard time when she went out with Mitch.”
Before the girl in question could respond, Bubbles cut in. “Yeah, well, Buttercup had to go and rough up a few guys and break several thousand dollars' worth of expensive cameras. They were off her case in a matter of days.”
“I did it in the interest of privacy,” Buttercup added. “They started leaving Bubbles alone. Eventually.”
Blossom raised herself up on her elbows. “Yeah, Bubbles. They stopped bugging you after, what, your third boyfriend? And they haven't even bothered with your breakup.”
“I've been doing this longer than you,” Bubbles said. “You're the last one of us to ever have a boyfriend. Now you suddenly have one. Big news in their world.”
“Their tiny, shallow, scab-of-human-nature world,” Buttercup grumbled, rustling around for a magazine to read.
“How's everything going with Kris, anyway?” Bubbles asked. “I mean, you do keep blushing every time someone asks you about him.”
Blossom blushed and sputtered, “I-I'm just not used to it! Things are, you know, fine and stuff. I guess. I don't know, I don't exactly have a personal frame of reference to base the experience on!”
Bubbles giggled. “Oh my God, Blossom, you are so cute!”
The trill of Bubbles' cell phone rang, and she reached for it, pausing as she read Boomer's name on the little screen.
She flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Heaven? Could you send an angel my way? Preferably one named Bubbles, I'm pretty particular about these things.”
Bubbles subdued her smile and rolled her eyes, mouthing Boomer at the rest of the room. Blossom frowned. Buttercup lazily flipped a page of her magazine.
“Let me check in the stockroom,” Bubbles said, then held the phone away from her head for a second. “Nope, sorry, fresh out.”
“'Fresh out?' I saw one on TV just ten minutes ago!”
“And what exactly do you need an angel for?” Bubbles asked.
“Company. I'm about to go karaoke with some friends a whole bunch. We need one final piece to make the group complete.” He deepened his voice and rumbled, “Join us, Bubbles.” After a slight pause, he added, “You know, your name really doesn't lend itself to a deep, masculine voice of evil.”
With an exaggerated sigh, Bubbles said, “I suppose I can make an appearance.”
“OMG yes much?”
She laughed. “I'll see you later, Boomer.” She could feel Blossom's eyes on her as she set her phone down and shot her sister a beatific smile.
“I thought you weren't dating,” Blossom said.
“It's not a date,” Bubbles said, examining her makeup. “There will be tons of other people there.”
“Then why are you fussing with your makeup?”
“I need to fix it. We did just finish fighting a monster, like half an hour ago.”
“You fixed it when you got home, and now you're fixing it again?”
“I've got, you know, normal day makeup, monster fighting makeup, and going out with friends makeup.”
Blossom groaned and flopped on her other side, facing the wall. “You're so vain.”
“You probably think this song is about you,” Buttercup quipped.
“Anyway, I'll see you guys later,” Bubbles said, flying over to the closet to rummage for a light jacket.
“I don't think you should date him,” Blossom said to the wall.
“I'm not dating him,” Bubbles said in a slow, deliberate voice. “I am just meeting up with him and a bunch of friends. He is a friend. We are just friends.”
Blossom muttered something unintelligible, which Bubbles chose to ignore.
“Bye!”
Blossom and Buttercup grunted as their sister left. Blossom glanced at the clock.
“Oh! I forgot, I'm meeting Kris at the library.”
“You two are, I swear, the most boring couple in the history of forever,” Buttercup said, setting down her magazine.
“We've got AP exams and finals coming up,” Blossom pointed out. “We need study sessions.” She shot her sister a look. “Actually, I'm pretty sure you'd benefit from having a few yourself.”
“Thank you for your input, Fearless Leader.”
Blossom sighed. “Not my fault if you fail and can't do Athletics next year, Buttercup.”
“Your concern. It touches me.”
“See you.”
Buttercup sat up, listening to the front door slam as Blossom left. She rifled through a few more magazines, bored out of her skull. Finally, after glancing at her sisters' empty beds several times, she extracted her phone from her pocket and dialed.
“What's the shake?” the voice on the other line said.
“Butch, you talk like a dumbass,” Buttercup said. “Whatcha up to?”
“Nothing. You?”
“Boredom. Feel like a shake?”
“You only want one because I said 'shake' earlier.”
“Did you? Damn you and your subliminal messages.”
“You on your way or what?”
“Already there,” Buttercup said as she sped out the door. “See you in a few.”
***
Bubbles flew to school by her lonesome the following morning. Buttercup was taking forever, and Kris had picked Blossom up. Bubbles had done her sister a favor by ushering the Professor out the door before he could bear witness to it.
She spotted Boomer chatting with the friends who had accompanied them last night. His face was bright—he wore bright well—and the morning sun was only adding to the effect. Bubbles smiled.
“That was fun last night,” she called out, catching the group's attention as she crossed the school parking lot to join them.
Boomer turned and brightened even more at the sound of her voice. “Morning! Of course it was fun. If there's anything we do right, it's fun. Also dating. Wanna date?”
“No,” she said stoutly, stepping onto the curb just as a flash of red roared by. Her skirt suddenly whipped up and she shrieked, dropping her books to keep her hair from flying about. Brick swerved into a parking spot and killed his engine.
“Oh, my hair is a mess,” Bubbles groaned, swiping it out of her face before patting down her skirt. Boomer was fixated on her legs.
“So are your legs. I can help you fix those.”
“Ha. Ha.”
He grinned and dove to help Bubbles with her books before anyone else could offer.
Back over by Brick's parking spot, he jumped out and bumped—literally—into Blossom as she exited Kris' car in the spot right next to Brick.
His hip bumped into hers and they both froze. Neither had enough room to edge out without physical contact occurring unless one of them went back into their car.
Brick scowled. Fuck that.
“Move it,” he growled, and muscled past, practically flattening Blossom against Kris' car as he did so.
“Excuse you,” Blossom scoffed, then was suddenly pulled along by her waist. Both she and Brick stopped and looked down to find his keys, half hanging out of his pocket, hooked onto a loose thread of Blossom's jeans. After exchanging a look, they tried to pull away from each other to no avail.
“For fuck's sake,” Brick muttered, reaching to untangle them just as Blossom reached to do the same. Their hands bumped into each other's and oh come on, this was not happening.
“Watch your language,” Blossom snapped.
“Is everything okay?” Kris asked, coming around the front of his car.
Blossom flushed red—an act that did not go unnoticed by Brick—and said, “It's fine, Kris, we're just—just stuck.”
“Get your hands out of my way,” Brick grumbled, and grabbed his keys in one hand and her belt loop in the other (she bit back a yelp and blushed more), snapping the hooked thread and finally freeing them both. Brick shoved his keys completely into his pocket, making the mistake of glancing at Blossom as he did so. Her gaze flickered from Kris to him.
He made a little noise of disgust and turned away, shouldering past Kris as he muttered, “God damn fucking spaces are too God damn fucking small.”
“I can hear you cursing!” Blossom scolded as she joined Kris.
“Oh, good, you listening?” Brick turned and hollered, “Go to fucking hell!”
“What is with that guy?” Kris said, furrowing his brow. “He's been like this ever since Prom. What's wrong with him?”
“Are you kidding? What isn't?” Blossom muttered, weaving her arm in Kris' and so, so glad that he was nothing like the jerk that had just ruined her morning. Further down near the school's side entrance, Alicia, the Dance Major, caught her eye and waved.
“I got news for you!” Alicia hollered.
Blossom laughed nervously, then adopted a more panicked expression and said, as if realizing something, “The Induction Dance...”
Kris glanced at her. “What was that?”
“Uh, nothing... just... remembered something...” Blossom said, her gaze fixed furtively on Alicia. She grasped Kris' arm and quickened her pace as her Dance Major began to move in their direction. “Come on, Kris!”
They passed by Boomer and Bubbles just as he handed her the last of her books.
“There,” Boomer said proudly.
“Thank you,” Bubbles said.
“You're welcome. Does that mean I've earned a date now?”
“Boomer—” Bubbles started, then paused, glancing over his shoulder. Boomer turned to see Will and his group entering the school. A tense moment passed, but Will resumed walking without so much as a look in their direction. Bubbles bit her lip, clenching her books to her chest as she shuffled to the side and a little away from Boomer.
As he passed Boomer, Will muttered, “Asshole.”
“Douchebag,” Boomer chirped back. The rest of Will's group was silent as they passed by.
“Wait, are we giving each other nicknames now?!” Butch touched down beside them. He clapped a hand on Boomer's shoulder. “Morning, Fuckface!”
Boomer considered. “I think I preferred Asshole.”
“Those aren't very nice words,” Bubbles pouted.
Butch's eyes lit up. “Don't worry about it, Pri—OWF!”
Boomer had punched Butch in the mouth. “Oops. Hand slipped.”
“I was going to say 'Princess,' you ass! What the hell?!”
“Morning,” Buttercup yawned as she landed.
“Hey,” Bubbles and Boomer greeted. Butch got that mischievous look in his eyes again.
“Morning, Shithead,” he said, grinning.
Buttercup punched him in the face. “Fuck you, Pencildick.”
Boomer clapped politely as Buttercup shoved her friend aside. “I think Shithead wins that one.”
“Were we keeping score?” Buttercup asked, bored. The four of them shuffled into school and split off into twos, Butch with Buttercup and Boomer with Bubbles.
Again, Bubbles and Boomer passed by Will and his group, who issued them both several Death Glares as they walked by. One of the girls muttered something under her breath that Bubbles didn't catch, but Boomer did, and he whirled on her, taut with anger.
Bubbles grabbed his arm and pulled him along.
“Did you hear that?” he hissed, still glaring over his shoulder.
Bubbles sighed. She didn't handle being disliked well.
“I don't know what I ever saw in him,” she muttered sadly, ignoring Boomer's question. He glanced at her. “If this is the kind of person he is now... I mean, how could I not have noticed that before? Like a year ago?”
“Cheer up,” Boomer said, bumping his shoulder into hers. “He blinded you with science. Um, football science.” He started to hum Springsteen's Blinded by the Light. “Blinded by the football science...”
She stifled a giggle and gave him a look. “You're so silly, I swear!”
“Aw, I thought I was being clever. I jammed two song references into one line, come on!”
Bubbles smiled at him, feeling a little melancholy. After some consideration, she said softly, “I'm going to miss you when you're gone.”
“Of course you will,” Boomer said without skipping a beat. “I'm awesome. And very date-worthy, did I mention?”
“We should do something—all of us, I mean. Before you guys go. Hey, have you ever been to the beach?”
He fake-gasped. “You're kidding. There's only one?”
She ignored that and continued, “Let's go to the beach! Next month, once school lets out. And we're done with the musical. You know.”
Boomer grinned. “Whatever you say. It's a date.”
“It's a beach party,” she clarified.
“It's a date involving multiple people in swimsuits. Gotcha.”
They continued their friendly bickering all the way into dance rehearsal, at least until Blossom got after them.
“Pay attention, you guys, honestly! You're in the main cast, you ought to be getting some of this right!”
Bubbles and Boomer adopted sheepish expressions as they, along with a slew of other students in the musical, blocked out their moves with Blossom in the studio. They ran through the big dance number a couple of times with no interruptions, which put Blossom in a much better mood.
“You guys in the back need to be hitting it harder—here, let's do it again. Can you see me? Let me move...” Blossom edged to the left and led the room once more into the routine.
When her sister wasn't looking, Bubbles said in a low hiss of a voice, “I can't believe the musical's at the end of the month.”
“You nervous?” Boomer muttered out of the side of his mouth.
“Not yet. I probably will be on performance night. But I was talking about how fast everything went.” After a pause, she added, “It's been an eventful semester.”
“Good eventful or bad eventful?”
She glanced at him. “A little of both.”
They finished their routine and Blossom checked her watch. “Okay, that was pretty good. Did you guys want to try that out with singing, or practice another piece...?”
“Can we take five first?” Boomer suggested, and several students voiced their agreement.
“More like three,” Blossom said. “But sure, take five. After that we'll have just enough time to do one more thing—”
“Some of us can skip Choir to practice,” Bubbles said as a number of students began to disperse and chat. “I mean, unless you have something to do in Dance, Blossom.”
Blossom considered. “I could spare some time.”
Boomer tapped Bubbles. “I'm going to grab something from the machines. You want anything?”
“No, thanks.”
As he darted out the door Blossom came up and scolded gently, “More than practicing, though, you ought to be studying for exams.”
Bubbles immediately pouted and huffed, “I study.”
“You've been at every early morning rehearsal and afternoon rehearsal,” Blossom said flatly. “And I've seen you practicing during lunch, too. And at home. This studying you're talking about—when exactly is it happening?”
“Whenever you're not looking,” Bubbles said with confidence, then turned. “I'm going to go get a drink of water real quick.”
“Don't avoid the subject! Study some after rehearsal!”
Bubbles stepped out of the studio, waving at several people who greeted her as she passed through the dance locker room. She rounded the corner into the hall and stopped for a drink at the fountain. When she was finished, she heard it—a tiny clatter, then something that sounded suspiciously like a laser...
Tensing, she tried to figure out where it was coming from—the other locker room. The cheerleaders' locker room. She frowned and floated over to the door, muscles at the ready just in case—
Boomer suddenly whipped around the doorframe and she yelped, grabbing his collar on reflex.
After a moment she sighed. “Geez, you scared me!”
He glanced at her fist, drawn back and ready to strike. “Speak for yourself.”
She let go and laughed, then paused. “What... what were you doing? I thought you were going to the machines.”
“Got lost,” he responded.
“In the cheerleaders' locker room?”
He pouted. “You caught me. I was peeking. If it makes you feel better, though, it was empty.”
She stared at him a moment longer. “Shame on you,” she finally said. “Come on. Let's get back before Blossom skins us alive.”
Boomer flew ahead of her, and she glanced back at the door he'd emerged from, her frown returning.
***
Dance rehearsal was interrupted by a chorus of screams echoing in the hall outside. Everybody halted, and Blossom zipped to the door to investigate just as a group of shrieking girls appeared.
“Girls, calm down!” Blossom shouted. “What's wrong?! What happened?!”
They were cheerleaders; Bubbles recognized them from the squad. Ashley, sporting a very fashionable hairstyle—really, her hair was growing out quite nicely—spotted her, and pointed an accusatory finger.
“You!”
Bubbles blinked. “What?”
Ashley stalked up to her, flanked by several other cheerleaders. “It was you, wasn't it?! Just because you broke up with Will!”
“I don't know what you're talking about—”
“I don't buy your stupid innocent act for a second! You ditched us, you ditched Will, and now you've gone and ruined them—”
“Ruined what?!” Bubbles cried.
“Our new uniforms for Internationals!” Ashley shrieked.
Bubbles gaped at her, horrified on behalf of the entire squad. “What happened? What do you mean?”
“Stop playing dumb! You were one of us, you knew we were getting new uniforms in time for Internationals! You knew they were coming this month! And then you pull this stupid stunt, all because you got pissed off with Will—”
Bubbles' heart plummeted. Boomer.
“Calm down!” Blossom urged, appearing at her sister's side. “What happened to the uniforms?”
“They're completely shredded!” Ashley screeched. “The boxes they arrived in were fine, but when we opened them up it was nothing but, but pieces of uniform!”
“And you're accusing Bubbles of doing this?”
“Yes!”
Blossom's gaze had gone stony and cold. “Why?” she said flatly.
“Because she knew they were coming—”
“Bubbles has been here in practice the entire time,” Blossom interrupted. “And besides that, she wouldn't sabotage you for such petty, stupid reasons—”
“You all think she's so friggin' innocent!” Ashley exploded. “She isn't! She played Will! He was her boyfriend and she kept hanging out with this jerk—”
Ashley's finger went in Boomer's direction, and he dashed in front of Bubbles and shouted, “That's no fucking reason to call her a slut!”
Bubbles' eyes widened at the realization. This morning. Boomer had looked so angry. No wonder. Bubbles felt as if someone had cut her open and knifed her in the heart.
Blossom turned on the girls and screamed, “You called my sister what?!”
Ashley was looking at Boomer, revelation in her eyes. “You! You did it!”
“What, wrecked your stupid costumes?! What the hell do I care? Why would I even waste my time on bitches like you?!”
Bubbles grabbed Boomer's arm and yanked him back. “Don't call them that!” she ordered.
“They deserve it!” he snapped, not looking at her. “You know what? Fine! I'll take credit for ruining your stupid costumes! It'd be a fucking honor!”
“And stop cursing!” Bubbles screamed, trying to bite back the truth—it was him, she'd seen him, he'd done it—
Ashley and the girls were screaming, and so was Boomer, and Blossom finally shoved him back and shouted at them, “Nobody who calls my sister a slut is a capable judge of character! She's not a slut, and she didn't ruin your uniforms! You've got over twenty witnesses here who can attest to it! We were and still are rehearsing, and just because you're upset doesn't mean you can interrupt us! Now get out of my studio!”
In a harried pink flash, Blossom had shut the door, and the cheerleaders were gone. She took a deep, furious breath, then looked at Bubbles.
“Did you do it?” she asked, eyes doubting. “You went to get a drink of water.”
“I didn't,” Bubbles croaked, making an effort not to look at Boomer.
Blossom's eyes immediately went to him. “Did you?” she said, icicles practically dripping off her words.
Bubbles glanced at him. His expression was serious, his voice level as he said, “No.”
They resumed practice as best they could, Boomer's lie ringing in Bubbles' head.
***
Blossom walked into Calculus not long after the bell for the passing period had rung. Brick was already seated at his desk, and they both made a point of ignoring each other as she took her seat across the room.
“Blossom!”
A few of the students looked up—Brick and Blossom included—to see the Company officers coming in. Blossom paled as they approached, too overcome with dread to notice Cindy glancing at a neutral Brick.
“H-Hey, guys,” Blossom stammered, bracing her hands against the edge of her desk for support.
“Girl, you are not getting outta this,” Alicia scolded, arms crossed.
Blossom persisted. “Class is going to start in three minutes—”
“We'll take two,” Alicia said.
“Guys, can't this wait till after practice today—”
“All of us have exams coming up, so half of us are skipping dance practices left and right to study as it is. Now's as good a time as any.”
Mel leaned over Alicia's shoulder and added, “It's inevitable, Blossom. You can't stop it from happening.”
Blossom's shoulders slumped and she sighed. “Okay...” she mumbled, looking up at Alicia. “What's next year's Officer Induction Dance going to be?”
Alicia grinned. “Cheer up. You'll make a fine Major.”
“I'm definitely earning it,” Blossom muttered.
“And you'll own the dance, of course.”
Mel was bouncing up and down, giddy with anticipation. She couldn't hold it in anymore. “It's burlesque-themed!”
If worse words had ever been spoken to her, Blossom was having serious trouble remembering them at the moment. She gaped at the girls, mortified as her eyes swept the room, taking in the very interested male portion of the class.
She regained her senses and hissed, “Absolutely not! You guys know how I feel about that, and besides, that is beyond inappropriate! My father is going to see this, for crying out loud!” Out of the corner of her eye she could see Brick fidget with his pencil before setting it firmly down.
“It's just themed, it's not like an actual burlesque show,” Alicia comforted, shooting Mel a harsh look. “Look, your music's going to be Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend—the Moulin Rouge one, not the Monroe one—”
“The latter of which is vastly superior to the former,” Blossom muttered.
“—And you're doing like the Satine thing, except... without the ridiculous swing and whatever.”
Blossom wondered if she looked as sick as she felt. “You know how they dress in burlesque shows.”
“You'll be totally covered.”
Mel nodded. “We know you have that, you know, nothing above the ankles or past the elbows thing going on.”
“Don't exaggerate,” Blossom said defensively.
“Seriously,” Mel went on, “it's no more than what you expose when you're wearing a swimsuit.”
This inspired a fresh round of horrified gaping from Blossom.
“Mel, you should probably stop talking,” Alicia said tersely.
“That's a lot!” Blossom cried.
“And the dancing isn't going to be risqué. Alicia's doing you proud in that department.”
Mel's attempt to comfort her fell on deaf ears. Blossom still felt sick. Sicker, even. Evidently it showed—in the next instant, the girls went motherly.
“Oh, Blossom, don't worry about it!”
“It'll be fun!”
“You'll do awesome.”
“You'll look awesome,” a male voice chimed in.
“Who said that?!” Blossom squeaked abruptly and with no small amount of indignant anger.
“And you can totally give me feedback while we're working on it over the summer,” Alicia said.
Cindy, who'd been quiet throughout the whole exchange, tugged at her fellow officers. “Hey, the bell's about to ring.”
The girls bid their goodbyes, sprinkling more assurances in there. Blossom managed a weak smile at them, which faded when she saw Cindy slow as she passed Brick's desk.
Brick, meanwhile, had been listening rather intently throughout the whole thing. He hadn't meant to. But it wasn't exactly every day that the word burlesque came up, particularly with regard to Blossom...
He realized someone was at his desk. Cindy. He glanced up at her.
“Hey,” she said quietly.
“Hey,” he said. She scurried out the door. Brick felt Blossom's heavy gaze bearing down on him. He looked at her.
She had full, pout-able lips, that when coated in red lipstick would stand out in perfect contrast to her fair skin. That red hair of hers, too—it'd just add to the effect, especially when she'd have all the lights on her at the performance. God, the performance. He was going to miss it. Based on the image in his head, it was going to be a damn shame, too.
The bell rang, interrupting his thoughts and their staring contest, and as the teacher brought class to attention Brick buried his eyes in his paper and scowled.
He'd miss it. So what? It wasn't like he gave a fuck either way.
***
“I know it was you.”
Boomer glanced at Bubbles as they sat together at lunch, waiting for their friends to arrive.
“Huh?”
Bubbles looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then directed her gaze at him. “I was there, Boomer. You ruined the uniforms, didn't you?”
He shrugged. “So?”
His immediate admittance and nonchalance caught her off guard; she'd expected at least a twinge of guilt, but there was no remorse in those friendly blue eyes. Funny how his response lessened the whole “friendly” effect. It reminded her of a five-year-old boy who'd kicked her around, beat her up because he'd had nothing better to do.
Her face fell. “Why did you do that?”
“They called you a bad name.”
She felt a little sting. She hadn't heard it, but she gathered it was probably true. She pushed past her hurt feelings and said, “You shouldn't have done it.”
“I wasn't about to let them get away with that.”
“It was only one girl! But what you did, it affected the entire squad! Internationals is a big deal, Boomer, we were so excited about those uniforms coming in—”
“They were, not you. You're not on the squad anymore.”
“But I would be, if it hadn't been—”
She caught herself and stopped as he looked at her. She'd dropped Cheer because she'd been asked to watch the boys. She'd dropped Cheer because of him.
“I was looking forward to it when I was on,” she said softly. “Besides that, I asked you not to hurt other people in my name, didn't I?”
“I didn't hurt anybody, I hurt things. They still have their old uniforms. They can use those. It's not like me destroying their uniforms is forcing them to go to Internationals naked!”
Bubbles groaned. “Boomer, that's not the point!”
“They shouldn't have called you a slut!”
She covered her face. “Could you please not say that out loud?”
“I'm not going to let anyone get away with calling you names, especially names you don't deserve,” he said in a voice too serious for him, a voice that didn't suit him.
She lowered her hands and stared at the table, unable to meet his eyes.
“I did it because I care about you,” he said, and she closed her eyes and sighed.
“If you really cared about me,” she said slowly, “you'd know I wouldn't want you to do something like that in the first place.”
She wasn't hungry, not in the least. She wasn't feeling social now, either, and could sense their friends approaching. She couldn't deal with this right now.
“I'm going to go study for my exams,” she said quietly, and left without a glance in Boomer's direction.
***
They were now a week into finals and Blossom was exercising some serious time management skills. With musical rehearsals piled on top of her regular dance practices, not to mention studying for her APs and final exams, Blossom was barely finding time to go out with Kris that didn't involve him waiting for her during rehearsals or studying together. He himself had a bunch of StuCo meetings going on, what with electing new officers for the next school year.
Next year. He'd be gone next year. Blossom didn't know how that was going to work out, if it was going to work out. When she thought about it, she didn't really expect them to stay together for her Senior year. Kris was a sweet guy, and a really great boyfriend, but...
Well, no matter. They were teenagers. It wasn't like they were going to get married or anything. It wasn't forever. They were only in high school, after all. They had a good time together, and it wasn't like dating just felt like another responsibility to Blossom—she'd been afraid that would happen, at first, and then had been surprised at how genuinely pleasant it was to go out with a nice boy like Kris. She was enjoying herself, despite the knowledge that he wouldn't be around next year.
Among others.
Blossom frowned as the thought crept into her mind early one morning on her way to school. Inevitably, every time she thought about Kris she thought about Brick. The revelation that the Rowdyruff Boys were leaving had confused her at first. She should've felt instant relief, but instead she'd felt an odd... something. Further reflection revealed that despite their animosity towards each other, she'd actually gotten used to the bickering.
The thought that she'd “gotten used” to someone like Brick was a little disheartening.
I wonder where he's going, she mused as she made her way up the steps of Townsville High. She should've looked into that. She'd meant to. What had distracted her?
Her mind was suddenly flooded with memories of dancing with him, the suit he'd worn to Prom, the weight of his hand on her waist.
She shook her head vigorously, her steps echoing in the halls of the mostly empty school. Chalk that up to hormones. No matter how much she prided herself on maturity, it was only natural for a teenage girl to get swept up in the... physicality of things.
I'm relieved he's leaving, she thought earnestly to herself. No more fighting, no more dancing, no more glaring or competition or general unpleasantness in my day-to-day life—
She stopped as she approached her locker, catching sight of Kris waiting for her there. He smiled and waved.
“Morning,” he said as she came up.
“Hey,” she said in mild surprise. “What are you doing here?”
He hunched his shoulders up and blushed. “Um, waiting for you.”
Blossom felt the expression on her face melt, and she sheepishly reached to open her locker. “Oh, Kris!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he laughed, holding her door open for her as she arranged her books.
“You're very sweet,” she told him. “Okay, I'm done. You can shut it.”
He did so and they started walking—where, Blossom didn't know. She just kind of started moving and Kris fell into step beside her. They walked in silence for a bit until she got uncomfortable about it and paused to examine an advertisement for the musical on somebody's locker. There was a note scribbled on the ad to Boomer—This must be his locker, Blossom realized—about the start time for this Friday's rehearsal being pushed back.
“Is that supposed to be a zombie chorus line? Because that xerox doesn't read at all,” she said, and Kris looked.
“No, not really.”
Silence settled over them again, and they stood there for a second, looking at each other. He bit his lip and tapped his fingers on the set of lockers they'd stopped by, and she cocked her head in curiosity. Suddenly he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers—a quick little peck, nothing to write home about. But by the time he pulled away she was as red as he was.
“W-what was that for?” she stammered.
He held her gaze for a moment, then looked down and, with his voice getting progressively softer with each word, said, “I... I just thought you looked really pretty...”
Blossom's face melted again and she smiled, resisting the urge to go, “Awww!” Kris was so nice and so sweet.
She pressed a hand to her warm chest and leaned forward herself, intending to reward him with a little kiss of her own—just on the cheek, she wasn't that bold yet—
“Excuse me,” Brick's voice said suddenly, a bitter edge to it, and she and Kris jumped, faces scarlet. Blossom felt her chest explode into rapid fire palpitations as she turned to Brick, but at least she had the sense to summon a little attitude.
“'Excuse you,' what?” she demanded, glaring at him for sneaking up on them, for interrupting them the way he had on purpose—
Brick narrowed his eyes at her and extended his arm, the metal popping as he placed a hand against the locker door right next to Blossom's head. She tensed, keenly feeling the proximity of his body, his arm cutting off her view of Kris.
“Excuse me,” he repeated, his voice echoing like a shudder in her chest and dripping with fake cordiality, “I need to get to my locker.”
She blinked, then stepped aside, watching as he slid his hand over to the combo she'd been concealing and twisted the dial.
“Come on, Blossom,” Kris said, and she felt his hand grasp hers. It took her a second to remember to grasp back.
As they turned and walked away, she heard Brick open, rustle, then shut his locker door. Then—
“Blossom.”
She halted abruptly, gripping Kris' hand to remind herself not to let go. She swiveled her head round to look at Brick, his gaze level and eyes hard.
“Yes?” she ventured.
“What exams are you taking?”
She clenched Kris' hand. “Why do you want to know?”
“So I know which ones to exempt myself from,” he said, and she scowled in disgust and jerked away.
“Let's go, Kris,” she muttered as she dragged her bewildered boyfriend along.
Brick was such a jerk. Such an egotistical, stupid jerk.