Chapter 1

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

A woman screamed bloody murder as a gigantic lavender tentacle, complete with slimy purple suckers, slammed into the hood of her car. The woman screamed again, fumbling for the surprisingly evasive door handle. The tentacle slithered off her car and slammed into it again, smashing the roof, avoiding the poor woman. She cried for help, frantically – desperately – banging on the window.

As the tentacle lifted once more, rearing for another blow, a baby blue blaze streaked passed the vehicle. The tentacle smashed through the car roof again, destroying the other seat, the steering wheel, the door, everything on the driver's side – except the woman.

The woman was now two blocks away, hovering inches above the ground. She looked around, confused as to how she narrowly avoided becoming an automobile sandwich, forgetting that she was, well, hovering inches above the ground. She suddenly felt her feet touch the pavement below. Then, she rolled her eyes and said gratefully,

"Thank you, Bubbles!"

She looked up above her at another woman, much younger, at least in her early twenties, with sunny blonde hair and soft sky blue eyes. The younger woman wiped a stray hair from her friendly round face and smiled warmly.

"You be careful, ma'am," Bubbles said. She pointed down the street, away from the raving tentacle monster. "Keep going that way, we'll take care of it!"

With that, Bubbles whizzed off in another baby blue streak. She skidded to a halt on the street, several yards in front of the strange-looking monster. The monster crawled towards her, smashing its tentacles into the sidewalk, into buildings, abandoned cars, whatever its slithering appendages could swipe. One tentacle rammed into the pavement, sending a thunderous crack in the blacktop towards Bubbles. Bubbles dove to the side, the crack stopping at a fire hydrant that exploded in a rain of water and metal. Above Bubbles, a light pink blaze zoomed through the sky and stopped midair above the monster.

Another young woman, the same age as Bubbles, with long strawberry blonde hair and unusual pink eyes, stared daggers at the monster. Actually, to be precise, she stared blazing hot laser beams at the monster that sliced into its thick lavender skin like red hot bullets. The monster reared its ugly head, a head with an enormous mouth that stretched from one tank-sized black eye to another. The monster resembled something like Pacman with tentacles – Pacman with more large, sharp white teeth than every shark on the planet combined. It opened its mouth wide, wailing its deep, booming cry of pain.

"Blossom!"

The redhead caught sight of Bubbles, her sister and fellow super heroine. Blossom eyed her purposefully, and then she eyed the monster, quickly, but carefully, formulating a highly strategic plan of attack.

"Bubbles!" Blossom shouted. "Take out as many tentacles as you can! I'll keep up with the head!"

Bubbles obeyed as usual, rocketing towards the monster and shooting off several laser beams of her own, smoldering tentacles left and right. The creature screamed again, its skin blistering from the burns. Blossom looked around fast, making sure not to keep her eyes away from the monster for too long. Exasperated, she called out for the third member of her crime-fighting party.

"Boomer!"

Blossom sent off a few more laser beams, and out of the corner of her eye, saw a dark blue blaze spiral towards her. It stopped near the monster, revealing a very flustered, somber-looking young man who bore a striking resemblance to Bubbles. He rubbed his neck and blew his shaggy blonde bangs out of his eyes. Blossom called out at him.

"Boomer, help Bubbles take care of the tentacles!"

Boomer nodded, and dove after Bubbles. Bubbles flitted around a particularly devious tentacle that dodged every laser beam she shot at it. Boomer zipped past a different tentacle and blasted it, the charred appendage curling away. Bubbles, changing tactics, jammed her fist into the irksome tentacle, the skin splitting from the force. It spewed inky black blood, and Bubbles whirled around to avoid it. In a split second, the tentacle wrapped around her leg and squeezed.

"Aghhh!" Bubbles shrieked.

Boomer gasped and turned to her. Before he could stop himself, he streaked towards her and chopped his hand into the air, snapping the tentacle clean off the monster. The monster wailed once more.

"Boomer!"

Boomer spun around and saw Blossom give him a very frustrated glance, as she punched a tentacle away from her.

"Don't rip its arms off!" she shouted. Boomer blushed, the oh-so familiar feeling of humiliation flushing to his face.

"Thanks," Bubbles whispered, smiling weakly before zooming away.

"Tentacles," Boomer muttered irritably. At least Bubbles was okay. Ignoring his cheeks flushing deeper, he whipped around the monster and took care of some other tentacles, careful not to rip anymore off.

Boomer grabbed at two of them and stretched them high above the monster's head. He gritted his teeth and in a tremendous maneuver, twisted the tentacles into a knot. The monster winced and tried to retract the knotted limbs into its body. Boomer laughed as it slammed the knot into its side several times. Then, to Boomer's horror, it swung the knot round and round, and smashed it into a building.

"Boomer!"

Blossom took a deep breath, and Boomer recoiled, expecting the worse. Then, Blossom blew a tremendous gust of fire at the monster's face. The monster roared at her, and Blossom promptly ignored it and glared at Boomer. She opened her mouth, but Boomer beat her to it.

"I know, I know! Get rid of the knot…"

Boomer dropped to the knotted tentacles, begrudgingly preparing to untie them. Bubbles, frowning, floated up next to Blossom.

"He's still learning," she whispered to her sister. Blossom rolled her eyes miserably.

"I know," she groaned. The two watched Boomer fumble with the knot, as the tentacles smacked and jabbed at him. Blossom sighed.

"Oh, if Buttercup was here..."

It had been a little over a year since Blossom or Bubbles had seen their sister Buttercup. It was incredibly unfortunate, too, since Blossom and Bubbles were back to crime-fighting in their hometown Townsville, U.S.A. Traditionally, Buttercup should've been with them, since she was, after all, the third original member of the renowned super heroine team the Powerpuff Girls.

But things had changed drastically over the past few years. As fate would have it, the girls went their separate ways when they graduated high school four years ago. Blossom went to Harvard law; Bubbles stayed in Townsville and went to the community college for zoology; and Buttercup went to New York to be a cop. For whatever reasons, they didn't see each other for almost three years, until March last year, when they were brought together for an unforgettable adventure. Forced with their sworn enemies the Rowdyruff Boys, the girls fought for a solid month against the pain-in-the-backside Princess, the seductress of sin Sedusa, the king of all evil Him, and in a way, themselves. In the end, they not only saved the world, but in a funny twist, bonded with the Boys.

Now, after Blossom and Bubbles graduated from their respective schools last spring, they were back at home doing what they did best: be the Powerpuff Girls. Unfortunately, due to impregnable circumstances, Buttercup could not join them, so the girls put up with a new member: Boomer, one of the Rowdyruff Boys, their former enemy and new friend. The girls had no choice, really; it's not like there were any other super people around, and they had to fill Buttercup's spot somehow. He lived in town, anyway, and with his brother Brick doing his own thing in Chicago, and his other brother Butch with Buttercup and their impregnable circumstances, he was basically the only candidate. He wasn't bad, really. He just needed some training. Or, he at least had to learn to fight like a hero, and break some of his bad habits like fighting dirty, underestimating adversaries, and low self-esteem (it's a complex thing, kind of like with bullies, as Blossom theorized.)

Blossom, though, was beginning to get anxious. He didn't improve as often as she expected him to, but then again, she always had high expectations of everyone. Bubbles, though, always the optimist, had ever-lasting faith in him, so Blossom stuck it out and hoped for the best.

This, unfortunately, wasn't happening at the moment.

"Gahhh!"

Boomer miraculously untied the tentacles, but upon freedom, the appendages wrapped around him and whammed him face-first into the cement. Bubbles whistled empathetically as Blossom held back every urge to groan. Then, another voice joined in.

"Really? I come home to this shit?"

Blossom and Bubbles whirled around, and to their very great surprise, saw just the person they were praying for. Floating lazily next to them was Buttercup, with her shoulder-length jet-black hair, electric green eyes, and permanent sardonic smirk. Blossom sighed in relief as Bubbles squealed and embraced her sister.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you," Blossom said.

"What are you doing here? Welcome home! How are you?" Bubbles twittered happily. Buttercup's eyes suddenly narrowed, and she grinned.

"No time for that now, Bubbles," she said. She looked at Blossom. "What's the sitch, leader girl?"

Blossom, overwhelmed with fresh motivation, quickly surveyed the situation again, and it came to her right away. She commanded Bubbles and Buttercup, and the two obediently shot off in opposite directions, Blossom rearing back in her place. On the ground, Boomer stirred, and he groggily pulled himself out of the gigantic crater the monster forced him into. He turned around, and he caught sight of a lime green blaze coming his way. He instinctively dove back into the crater, the blaze whooshing over his head. He sat back up and looked behind him.

"You okay, dude?" Buttercup asked, not even glancing at him, instead staring at the monster.

"Buttercup?"

"Good," Buttercup growled. She finally looked at Boomer and smirked. "Word of advice: you can't take my place."

She rocketed toward the monster, and Boomer seethed.

Bubbles and Buttercup, aiming themselves at specific points on the monster, slammed their bodies full-force into the creature. The monster, grumbling angrily, rolled over onto its head, its mass of tentacles flailing haplessly in the air. Bubbles and Buttercup began to circle around the tentacles, faster and faster, blurring into a blue-green twister. Above, Blossom watched her plan unfold and at the exact moment, she dove into the center of the tornado. After only a few seconds, the twister disappeared and in its place, stood the monster, nauseatingly dizzy, and with all of its tentacles tied into one huge perfect knot.

"I did that," Boomer spat, as he watched gloomily from the sidelines.

Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup hovered proudly above the monster, and around them, citizens of Townsville exploded into cheers and applause.

"Thank you, Powerpuff Girls!"

"Welcome home, Powerpuff Girls!"

"Hurray for the Powerpuff Girls!"

"Wow," Bubbles giggled. "This is the first time in years we saved the day together."

"It never gets old," Buttercup laughed.

Blossom beamed, and she led the girls down to the ground, where they were greeted some more by their beloved fellow citizens. Boomer jumped up and slowly lurked on the side, watching the girls get all the praise and glory. From the crowd, he saw a tiny old man, wearing the same reverent uniform he had worn for years, scurry over to the girls.

"Welcome back, Powerpuff Girls!" The Mayor of Townsville bumbled. "It's been a long time since you girls saved our little city from those mean ole monsters."

"Well, the three of us," Bubbles corrected. "We've been fighting crime for weeks now, you know."

"Of course, of course, I know," The Mayor tittered. "Thanks, again, girls!"

The citizens of Townsville burst into another roaring applause, and the girls humbly stood and accepted it. Bubbles suddenly noticed the surly Boomer sulking near the monster, and she bit her lip. She nudged Blossom. Blossom glanced at him, and frowned guiltily.

"Thanks, everyone, but we really oughta get rid of the monster and head home," Blossom announced. The citizens thanked them again, and then went about their usual business. Some people headed back into smoking buildings, firemen happily extinguished leftover fires, men and women headed into their cars and started home or back to work. One guy ran past, checking his watch and muttering nervously to himself about a two-hour wait, a burger, and his very picky boss. Buttercup chuckled.

"Only in Townsville do you have a total disaster, and still try to make it back to work on time," she said.

"Hey, Boomer," Bubbles said as Boomer sulked over to them. Blossom held her hands behind her back, very business-like, mentally preparing yet another pep talk for him. She opened her mouth to speak, but Boomer beat her to it again.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he mumbled. "Need to work harder, stay focused, the whole shit and she-bang."

"Er… yeah," Blossom said unremarkably, somewhat losing her poise.

"Nice idea, by the way," Bubbles commented. "The whole knot thing? It kinda backfired at first, but if it weren't for you, we wouldn't have beat the monster."

"Yeah, okay," Boomer said gloomily.

"No, she's right!" Blossom reassured quickly. "Really, your action inspired me to tie all the limbs together, thus immobilizing the monster. Great job!"

Boomer rolled his eyes, knowing very well that Blossom and Bubbles were just trying to be nice. Though, he did come up with the tentacle-tying thing. Blossom did it better, though, of course. She always did. Perhaps Brick had a point saying…

"What's this?" Buttercup said suddenly. She looked at her sisters and then at Boomer. She grimaced. "White jumpsuits?"

"Oh, these?" Bubbles said, dusting off her own white jumpsuit.

Yep – Blossom, Bubbles, and even Boomer had matching polyester white and signature color uniforms. Around the chest, pelvis, arms and legs lay the signature color, with white around the thighs, waist, and upper arms. They were simple and stylish, but strong and withstanding, naturally designed by Professor Utonium, the girl's father and creator. When he heard the girl's were going to revive their crime-fighting days, he jumped at the idea to make new and improved uniforms for his girls. Of course, Boomer needed one, too, so Professor made sure to design them gender-neutral. The girls and Boomer were surprising quite satisfied with them.

"And you?" Buttercup said to Boomer, heavy emphasis on the word 'you.' "What the hell are you doing?"

"Well, we wanted to go back to fighting crime," Blossom explained.

"But we couldn't do it without a third member, so we invited Boomer in," Bubbles added, smiling at him. Buttercup raised an eyebrow.

"He's doing pretty well, actually," Blossom lied. Buttercup raised her other eyebrow.

"She's lying," Boomer said.

"I'm not," Blossom lied again. "He's still in training, but Boomer will make a nice addition to the… well…"

"Powerpuff Girls?" Buttercup said, bursting into laughter. Boomer looked down at his dark-blue feet, and felt his face turn a nasty shade of red.

"We're still trying to think of a name for the team," Blossom said. "It's not exactly Powerpuff Girls, since, well, he's not a Powerpuff, and he's definitely not a girl."

"Sure 'bout that?" Buttercup asked.

"Hey, now…" Bubbles said soothingly, as Boomer stepped forward defensively. Bubbles put a hand on his chest, and he jumped back strangely. Buttercup folded her arms across her chest and silently noted this exchange in her head.

"Well, next time the hotline goes off, let me know," she said. "I don't want to miss another piece of work like this."

"Work?" Blossom croaked suddenly. Her eyes widened. "Ohmigod. Work! I'm late. ImlateImlateImlate. I'm late again!"

Blossom leapt in the air and started off towards home. After a few yards, she suddenly remembered and spun around.

"Can you guys take care of the monster? I gotta go! I'm late!"

Without a reply, she turned back around and headed back home at lightning speed.

"What happened?" Buttercup asked, baffled.

"She's late for work," Bubbles sighed dejectedly. "Again. Third time this week…"

***

Blossom staggered through the lobby of Jones and Jones, a law firm located just south of Citysville. Her classy maroon heels clicked on the floor with every quick step, as she tried to pull her hair back into a neat bun. She held her briefcase and coffee thermos in each hand, and tried to remember exactly what was supposed to happen today at work.

She was very lucky to be in her position – only twenty-two, fresh out of college with just a bachelor's degree, barely any true law practice, and she was already a high-paid attorney at law. Because of this, she was already treading very deep waters, and some co-workers never failed to remind her. But, because of juggling a life of crime-fighting and a life of law-defending (there is a difference, you see), those already deep waters were choppy, dark, and infested with sharks. Again, Blossom was very lucky to have what she had, so being late for the third time this week, eighth time this month, and twenty-seventh time this year (which only started this past June), her tardiness was most likely working against her luck.

Skipping the usual trip up the elevator, Blossom hoofed it to the stairs and, making quite sure nobody would see her, zoomed up the fourteen flights of stairs to her office. It was faster, anyway, and according to her watch she was already two hours late. Each second was definitely very precious. She finally made it upstairs, hair only slightly windswept and her coffee only lukewarm. Blossom looked around, hoping nobody was around, and beelined for her office. Maybe if she came out quietly to socialize in a few minutes, nobody would ever know she was late.

Blossom opened the door and then stopped so suddenly, her coffee flopped down her hand and dripped onto the stark white carpeting. At her desk, in her comfy rolling chair was the very short, very bespectacled, and very bitter Mr. Blake.

"Good morning, Blossom," Mr. Blake uttered. Mr. Blake never said anything – he uttered, begrudgingly throwing his words at you like a miser begrudgingly tosses a check at a charity after his assets are threatened.

"Good morning, Mr. Blake," Blossom said cheerfully. "Sorry, you frightened me, so I'll, uh, pay for the carpet-cleaning in here. You can take it out of my check."

"Actually," Mr. Blake began to utter, checking his watch. "I think the correct greeting was 'Good Afternoon, Blossom.' So, in return, I'd have expected a 'Good Afternoon, Mr. Blake,' shortly followed by weak excuse as to why you are late today."

"Oh," Blossom said weakly. The coffee continued to drip down her hand, and for a moment, Blossom considered the poetic idea that her coffee represented the spilled efforts of her overzealous pride, slowly, futilely, dripping down her hands and soiling the gleaming white carpet of her reputation. This happened when Blossom was at her most stressed.

"Oh?" Mr. Blake repeated, adding in several unnecessary extra syllables. Blossom snapped out of it and grinned.

"My apologies, Mr. Blake," she began quietly. "Good Afternoon, Mr. Blake. I apologize for being late today. I was, um, caught up in unavoidable business at home."

"Thank you," Mr. Blake uttered unthankfully. "And, you seem to have outdone yourself. Bravo! Your excuse was weaker than I expected."

Blossom reconsidered the poetic idea – her pride really was dripping down her hands, but instead of soiling her reputation, it was soiling everything.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Blake," Blossom said. "If there's anything I can do…"

"I'm sorry, too, Blossom," Mr. Blake said, thoroughly unapologetic. "I'm sorry that it has to come to this."

Her pride wasn't dripping anymore.; it downright spilled all over everything. Blossom's mouth hung.

"No…"

"Yes, I'm sorry, but we're going to have to, well, let you go."

Blossom dropped her coffee, literally spilling her pride coffee all over the floor.

"No, please. I'll do anything."

"I'm sorry, Blossom," Mr. Blake said again, more unapologetically, if that was possible. "But you've proven to be more of a hindrance than an asset to the firm. Unreliable, perpetual tardiness, little experience. We took a very large chance hiring you, Miss Utonium."

"I know."

"You were very promising," Mr. Blake said almost regretfully, although Blossom figured it was more because he just complimented her. "Your references were superb, and your test scores were top-level. But for whatever reason, you are neither superb nor top-level. This should unsurprisingly make me question your academic history."

"I can explain," Blossom defended unconvincingly. She really could defend herself, even in a court of law… then the thought made her stomach turn over.

"I assure you, I don't want to hear it," Mr. Blake said, the most honest thing he said all morning. "You've had since June – almost four months – to explain. To prove your worth. And it seems you couldn't. So, I'm sorry, you're fired."

Blossom had had enough.

"Mr. Blake," she began, with more fervency than she probably needed. "If you must know why I am constantly late, why you might consider me unreliable, or why I am anything but inexperienced in the realm of law, then I will tell you. Mr. Blake… I'm a super hero."

Mr. Blake stared at her through his enormous, circle-framed glasses. If he had a sense of humor, he may have laughed right now. But he didn't. In fact, he didn't say anything, which made Blossom terribly uncomfortable. After a long silence, Blossom cleared her throat and continued.

"I am Blossom Utonium of the Powerpuff Girls. Townsville? I did live here for a very short period when I was little. But, um, I'm a super hero. I fight crime, and have since I was born. Or created, I guess. But I digress. It's a very troublesome and tiring job, but I do it because someone has to protect the city. And I love it. It's my job, it's my passion, as much as law, really. They're almost one and the same, anyway. But it's quite taxing, juggling a nine to five job, seemingly endless crime-fighting, and of course, a normal life. But if you work with me, and I with my team, I can be an asset to the firm. To make up for time, I could work weekends, maybe bring work home, I can—"

"Enough."

Blossom tightened her grip on her briefcase. She felt the metal handle crunch like tinfoil beneath her fingers. Mr. Blake sighed and stood up, his head barely brushing the top of the chair. Hands behind his back, he slowly walked around her desk and headed towards the door. He stopped in front of her.

"I'm sorry, Miss Utonium," he uttered one last time. "But frankly, I don't give a damn. If you were really a super heroine, perhaps you would actually find the time to be both super and a heroine, especially at the workplace."

Blossom stared at him, wide-eyed, a figurative deer struck dumb by the headlights of failure. Mr. Blake looked up at her, a hint of a smile emerging on his face. He took a step towards the door, making sure to step around her and the puddle of coffee.

"Oh, and you wanted something to do?"

Blossom's eyes flickered.

"Clean yourself up."