Hey, Fanfiction... (sheepish wave). Well, I've been using fanfiction for nearly two years now, and, while it's not the first time I've strayed from the Harry Potter fandom, it's the first time I've strayed from the Harry Potter fandom with a multi-chapter fic, besides Avatar: TLA and Twilight, but that doesn't count because one's got like two chapters because I'm uninspired with that one and the other is a Harry Potter crossover...

Anyways, so I'm very anxious about crossing over! It's always nerve-wracking, so be nice, please. :)

This is going to be written sort of in the form of a television drama, with different "episodes" rather than chapters, the first being the "pilot" episode. They should consist of about 3,000ish words, if all goes well. I also can't be sure when each chapter will be posted.

Well, I hope you enjoy my drama!

Just so you're all aware, I might change a little bit away from the show because...well, really, it's because I can. ^^

Enjoy!

I do not own The Powerpuff Girls or the song First Dance by NeverShoutNever! Please enjoy. :)

...

It started with your hips

So I moved up to your lips

To take a chance, ask for a dance,

Cause you're the cutest thing on this side of the world

We call our homes

Yet I feel so all alone half of the time

We gotta live with what we got

And I got nothin'

So I pray you take my hand so we can conjure up somethin' rad

And if you could move on with your life

Just like you do, just like you shoobie do do doo

But you could make everything alright

And I want you to

Because ever since the first dance

All I thought about was lovin on you

So I moved to the dance floor

With instincts and nothing more

I had ants in my pants, I did the boogie dance

And there was nothing to do but laugh

So I made another leap, hoping to sweep you off your feet

I said baby maybe we could bust this joint

And see if my place is open to chill

And if you could move on with your life

Just like you do, just like you shoobie do do doo

But you could make everything alright

And I want you to

Because ever since the first dance

All I thought about was lovin on you

First Dance-NeverShoutNever!

...

Brick sighed as he pushed the door open to he and his brothers shared hut outside of Townsville and slammed it behind him. Boomer was in the basement, presumably painting, listening to that awful Indie-Rock-Pop-Hipster-Alternative junk he was into at full volume. Butch was in his room with some girl he must have picked up while Brick was out.

He pulled a drink from the fridge and made his way through the atrociously messy kitchen towards his bedroom.

That was the fourth of six girls to dump him this year with the ridiculous notion that he was in love with someone else. Who on Earth did he have to be in love with? He thought fiercely.

But as soon as he'd opened his bedroom door, he knew who the girls must have been referring to. His walls were plastered with newspaper cutouts and target profiles, all of the same girl, or, rather, three girls. But they were only hanging there for the one girl.

Brick took a gulp of his drink as he say down at his desk and picked up a pair of scissors. He set down his drink and held up the Townsville Examiner, reading one of the articles that was continued from the inside.

Interviewer: First, let me congratulate you on you and your sisters' one-thousandth arrest!

Blossom Utonium: Oh, well, thank you! But we just like doing it to keep everyone safe. No need to thank us. It's our job!

Interviewer: Speaking of jobs, is it true that you and your sisters are working now?

Blossom Utonium: Oh, no. With school starting up soon and our crime fighting, there's no way we could ever have a job at the same time. But once school is over...

Brick's mind began to wander after that, and he couldn't concentrate hard enough to read. He busied himself with cutting out the picture of the Powerpuff Girls attacking Mojo Jojo for the millionth time as he thought.

School...that was something he had been doing on his own for goodness knows how long. It was all do easy that he figured he owed it to himself to learn what normal kids did. He figured he'd be a straight-A student if he were to attend school.

But that was the problem. It was in his nature to not do what he was told, like homework. So he didn't bother attending.

But the Powerpuff Girls-Blossom-were going to high school...what if he were to enrol? And what if he were to bump into Blossom there?

Brick swore and threw down his scissors. What was with him thinking of Blossom so much recently? He lifted his baseball cap off of his head and ran his hand through his hair before replacing the battered old cap and dropping onto his bed. He had started cutting out the pictures and hanging them up so long ago, so he'd never forget what they looked like, so he could recognise his target the moment he ran into her. He didn't know when, but at one point over the years, he started to cut the pictures out more carefully. He pinned them up closer to his bed, so he'd see them when he woke up. And he began to cut out more of the single pictures. Namely, the pictures of Blossom. And then he began reading the newspapers, wanting to know more about the Powerpuff Girls, what they were like. And again, namely Blossom.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He shook his head and got off of his mattress, exiting the bedroom on a spur of the moment decision. He descended the stairs into Boomer's studio and bedroom, walking around pencils and spilled paint, trying not to bump into any of the paintings hanging from the ceiling, all of which appeared to be in various stages of drying.

"Hey, Boomer," Brick called.

"Yeah, Brick?" came the muffled reply. Brick peered around a wall and spotted Boomer behind an easel, holding a paintbrush to the canvas.

"Pack up everything. We're leaving."

"Leaving?" He didn't look up from his painting.

"Right," Brick replied. "I'm sure the Jojo will let us stay at his place while he's in prison."

"Why?"

"Huh?"

Boomer finally looked away from his canvas, over his reading glasses at Brick.

"Oh. I get it."

They were practically shouting over the music Boomer had on.

"You're in love."

"Huh?"

Boomer turned the knob on the radio to the left several notches, allowing them to hear themselves think. "You're in love," he repeated all-knowingly.

Brick snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. Who would I even be in love with?"

"I'm not sure," Boomer said. "I can only think of one girl, and we haven't spoken in ten years. So..."

"Well, you're wrong," Brick said, sounding a little too defensive when he thought back on it. "I just want a change of scenery. And I'm bored with the petty little crimes we've been doing lately. I want to go back to Townsville and have a bit more of a challenge. And I want to go to school. To challenge my, you know, mind."

"Challenge," Boomer stated.

"Right," Brick said, clenching his fists, a little irritated by the way Boomer sounded so mocking, as if Brick was lying and he knew it.

"Sure, why not," Boomer finally said. "Townsville High has an excellent AP Arts programme. I'm in."

"Great," Brick said. "We're leaving tomorrow night, so make sure you're, eh, art...is packed by then."

"Will do, buddy," Boomer replied. The music went up as Brick ascended the stairs. It followed him and he grumbled as he shut the door to the stairs, trying his best to block it out a little bit.

Brick banged on Butch's door a couple of times, knowing Butch was going to be furious at him for interrupting.

Butch kicked the door open. Brick had stepped back just in time. Butch now stood before him with no shirt on, pants undone and slung low on his hips. His hair was in disarray and he and an angry flush in his face.

"What?" he snapped.

Brick smirked. "Pack your stuff, we're leaving."

"Fine!" Butch growled, slamming the door in Brick's face. The door frame cracked, but the door stayed standing.

Brick returned to his room to do a little bit of packing before he went to bed. Tomorrow, he'd leave. And on Monday, at school, he'd finally be able to sort out all of his weird, new emotions. He wasn't in love with Blossom. He couldn't be.

...

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

Blossom muttered as she rolled over in her bed, pulling her duvet tighter around herself, curling up into the foetus position as she slept.

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

"Buttercup, it's your turn!" she called to her sister in the bed across the room, across Bubbles' bed.

"You're closest!" her sister's raspy voice returned.

"Doesn't matter..."

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

"Blossom, if you don't pick up that phone I swear you won't be able to even use your arms tomorrow."

"It's your turn!"

"If one of you two doesn't pick up that phone in ten seconds, neither of you will have arms to pick it up with!" Bubbles' shrill voice screamed out from the until-then silent bed.

Blossom groaned as she finally threw off her duvet and sleepily shuffled to the phone, putting it to her ear.

"Yeah, mayor, what is it?"

"Hey, there."

Blossom's eyes popped open. She was wide awake now.

"You there, sweetie?"

She slammed the phone down onto the receiver and pushed it off of the table, stepping back and almost tripping over her bed.

"Geez, Blossom, what did he want?" Buttercup mumbled.

"Uh...wrong number," Blossom said shakily.

"What?" Buttercup snapped. "That moron woke me up for nothing? Give me the phone, I'm going to trace that call and bash the idiot's face in!"

"No, no, it's alright, Buttercup," Blossom said, calming herself. "Be reasonable. It happens to everyone."

"Not smart people," she grumbled as she settled back into bed.

"Whatever," Blossom said, laying back down. "Just leave it."

"Both of you leave it!" Bubbles hissed. "I have cheerleading tryouts tomorrow and I will not be tired from something as stupid as this! Goodnight!"

Blossom smiled a little. Bubbles was always so happy and innocent during the day, but at night her temper could rival Buttercup's.

But her smile slipped away when she thought about the voice she'd heard over the phone. It couldn't have been...could it? No... And even if it did sound similar, it had been ten years, and a voice is bound to change, even if only a little bit. Therefore, it wasn't...his...voice, and she could rest easy knowing that she was safe from the boy that had been recently plaguing her dreams.

Brick.

...

"Bubbles has really improved since middle school."

"Yeah, whatever. We all know she's going to make the squad or whatever you call it. Why do we have to waste time watching her tryout?"

"Do you have anything better to do?"

"Anything's better than watching stupid, ditzy girls in short skirts flouncing around on the football field. That's wear the freaking football players play, not those floozys."

Blossom rolled her eyes. "Whatever. The other football players don't mind."

Buttercup shrugged. "They're guys. Of course they don't mind. I'm a girl. I do mind."

"Why aren't you with the other football players?"

"Why should I have to be? I made the team. That doesn't mean I have to be friends with all of them."

Blossom shrugged. "I'm friends with the girls on the volleyball team."

"Yeah, but you're friendly."

Blossom shrugged again. "Whatever you say, Buttercup."

Buttercup laid out on the grass, resting her head on her hands, her shaggy pixie cut tossed lightly in the small breeze. "They're all stupid guys. They go for the first creature with legs and boobs. I need a challenge. Not just some loser who thinks he's all that."

"He needs to be all that," Blossom stated.

Buttercup smirked. "Exactly."

"Good luck with that, Buttercup. I'm going to go congratulate our sister on making the cheerleading squad."

Blossom's stood and walked to her quickly approaching sister, who threw her arms around her sister.

"Great job, Bubbles!" Blossom exclaimed. "Let's go get ice cream to celebrate, alright?"

"Sure, but I want to tell Mitch first, okay?"

"Go ahead," Blossom replied.

Bubbles ran off across the field to the football players to tackle her boyfriend and tell him all about how she managed to make the team, even though everyone knew it was inevitable.

Then the three of them left the football field, headed to the ice cream parlour.

...

Buttercup left the place early, not a huge fan of ice cream and unable to take much more freaky exclamations.

"I swear, those two are getting weirder," Buttercup muttered as she shoved her hands into her pockets.

She was about to turn a corner when she heard a loud crash and a siren going off. Spinning around, she leaped into the air and soared towards the jewellery store down the street. She spotted the criminal in a split second, his bright green shirt making him extremely noticeable.

And his shaggy black hair and smirking face made him extremely recognisable. Buttercup had only a half a second to come to her senses before she would have smacked right into a telephone pole. She darted through the air after the boy who she was trying to tell herself wasn't Butch, catching him by his shirt. He ripped free of it and turned around. His smirk deepened. He laughed.

"If you wanted me to take my shirt off, Cup, you coulda just asked."

The shirt burst into flames in Buttercup's fist. One of her newly discovered abilities.

"Yeesh, what bug's in your panties?" he asked, smirk deepening even further.

"What are you doing here?" she spat darkly.

"That's strictly prohibited information, I'm afraid," Butch said. "Anyways, I'm off to find a new shirt. I didn't steal anything, so you have no reason to follow me. And if you do, I'm not afraid to hit a girl, so prepare for the most challenging battle of your life."

Buttercup's glare deepened. "Get out of my face, before I burn it black."

He chuckled darkly. "It's nice to see you again, Cup. I'll see you around."

"Don't count on it," Buttercup growled, watching him fly off before she slowly descended back to Earth, dropping the ashes that remained in her hand from Butch's shirt.

She decided not to tell her sisters. They didn't need to know about this. It didn't concern them.

...

Boomer sat in the park, sketching in his newly purchased school sketch-pad. The girl he was outlining at the moment was familiar, one he'd sketched before, but never with so much detail. He concentrated very hard as he pulled out his pastels and filled in her eyes, the exact same baby blue as her dress. He ran a soft red colour across her delicate lips, a soft yellow and a little bit of silver through her hair. He wondered if the skin he was filling in was as soft as he had drawn it to look.

He shook his head. No, Brick was the only one silly enough to fall in love with his enemy. That wasn't what Boomer did. No, Boomer was far too smart to fall in love with his enemy. That wouldn't happen, he knew it.

...

Bubbles, despite how she appeared, was unhappy. She couldn't place why she was unhappy. All she knew was that something was putting a damper on her heart, and it was making it almost hard to walk around and smile at people as if she really was happy. This didn't happen often.

She wasn't entirely depressed. Just in a bit of an unhappy mood.

So she did what she usually did when she was unhappy. She packed a notebook and a pencil into a bag, draped it over her shoulder, and left for the park, her favourite place in the world. It was filled with the kindest squirrels any park had to offer, and the ones with the best stories to tell.

Bubbles set up at her usual spot at the water fountain, leaning against the cool stone bowl, and opened the pages of the fresh notebook she'd found addressed to her in their mailbox, wrapped in crinkled brown paper. It was strange, because no one knew she liked to write, and there was no return address.

The inside had a note on it, one she was having troubles deciphering.

"One day, maybe we'll meet. Until them, write down the things and thoughts in your life I have missed."

She shrugged and brought her pencil to the paper, allowing words to flow.

...

The next morning, Blossom woke up at the first alarm and rolled out of bed tiredly. She was in and out of the shower in ten minutes, her hair brushed in two. She was pulling on her favourite pink t-shirt and jeans at the time her sisters' alarms went off.

The two argued over the shower for several minutes as Blossom pinned back her hair with her favourite pink barrette. While she had ditched the bow sometime in middle school, the clip was a part of her, and her red hair just didn't seem to look right without it.

Bubbles ended up getting the shower first, having the valid argument that she needed more time to do her hair, and they'd all be late if she were to go last.

Bubbles tied her hair into two pigtails at either side of her neck and had on a blue t-shirt and white skirt when Buttercup returned to dress in her green tank top and black jeans, the rips in the knees completely authentic.

They draped their book bags over their shoulders, retrieved their breakfasts to eat on the way to school, said goodbye to the Professor, and were off to school.

Bubbles ran off with Mitch the moment the entered the schoolyard. Buttercup went to the back of the school to talk to her gym teacher about the fact that he was putting her in a personalised gym class, for the safety of the other students. This left Blossom to head to her AP Geometry class by herself.

She was surprised to find she wasn't the only person to beat the teacher, and on the first day. AP classes were going to make her a very happy girl.

She took a seat in the back of the classroom, all of the front seats already having been occupied, and being in the second row just made her feel like a try-hard. So the back was fine by her.

The bell rang loud and clear, and the teacher entered the classroom, shutting the door behind him as he strutted down the aisle.

"Hello, class," he said, not looking at anyone, going straight to the board to write his name in large, cursive letters. "My name is Mr. Larson, welcome to my Geometry class. Today we're going to be starting with..."

Blossom twitched as she heard the door open at the back of the class. Late, on the first day of school, and to an AP class. Well, every class had its idiots.

But just why did the idiot have to be late? The only seat left was the one next to hers, and she didn't want to be stuck next to...

"Ah, Mr. Jojo," said Mr. Larson. "Thank you for joining us. Take a seat."

"Don't mind if I do, Mr. L." It was his voice, the voice from the phone.

This was not going to be a very good year.

...

Well, there's "Pilot." What did you think? (Wince) Be gentle, please.

I'm thinking that Blossom and Brick will be the main characters, but we'll follow the lives of the respective sisters and brothers as well.

Please review! I'd like to know how I did with this fandom. Hope I didn't break any rules... I feel like a tresspasser.