Autrefois

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A/N: I've been wanting to write this since completing my first Powerpuff Girl femslash, "Just Us." So I've finally done it. Yes, it's another Bubbles/Buttercup story, but this one will be longer and chaptered. Again, if the idea offends you, just don't read it. There will be lesbians. There will be incest. Because it's my story and that's what I want so HA.

Also, I dedicate this first chapter to my snoogley Sofa King Danny. Because I love him and he's been a great source of encouragement for writing this.

Lastly, the idea for this fanfic was inspired by Pink Martini's song "Autrefois," hence the title of the fic.
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Chapter 1

My sister Buttercup came out as a lesbian on our fourteenth birthday.

We were decorating the house for our birthday party which would take place later that afternoon. Blossom was talking cheerfully about how the Professor would meet her boyfriend for the first time that day. And of course, she handled the term "boyfriend" as if it simply meant "boy friend," as in it was merely a friend who was a boy. Because Professor had made it explicitly clear that "boy friends" were allowed and "boyfriends" weren't. Not until we were at least sixteen anyways. However, even though Blossom was careful to refer to him as a "boy friend," the truth was that she considered him as much more. At least that's what she had shared with me three nights ago after she came home all giddy by the fact that the two of them had just shared their first kiss, and making me pinky promise not to tell anyone else about it.

Blossom explained that her special guy friend would be arriving to the party an hour before it was set to begin to help with the finishing touches with decorations. And that's when Buttercup brought up her girlfriend. And she didn't say "girlfriend" as if it were "girl friend," nor did I detect any slight hint of an attempt at disguising the term in anyway as Blossom did with "boy friend." She said "girlfriend" and meant it just that way.

"Well, my girlfriend is coming at two o'clock, because that's what the invitation says, and she, unlike somebody, can read," she muttered.

I still don't know if she meant the comment to be heard by me, Blossom and the Professor. At the moment, I didn't know if either Blossom or Professor heard it at all. If they did, they seemed to pretend like they didn't. There was a prolonged silence after the words escaped her mouth. Neither my sister nor my dad said anything, and I wasn't sure if I should. The image of Buttercup's newest friend, Janie, popped into my head. I looked to Professor and Blossom and wondered if the same image of that smiley, friendly strawberry-blonde girl popped into their minds as well.

After the party, while my sisters, the Professor and I cleaned up, I learned that at least the Professor heard Buttercup's comment. After throwing out the trash and returning inside our home, I heard him tell Buttercup: "It's just like boyfriends. You're too young for any type of relationship. Boy or girl, Sweetie."

I remember Buttercup looked at me with that common angry face, but there was a weakness to it at the same time. I guess she really liked that Janie girl, and didn't like the Professor telling her she couldn't have a relationship with her. But it's not like that stopped her. Buttercup and Janie's relationship lasted about a year long, until the girl had to move across the country with her family. The Professor was aware of it, and he didn't appreciate it all that much. There were a lot of nights of fighting and screaming between him and Buttercup during that time. Most of the screaming was Buttercup's doing. Most of just about everything was Buttercup's doing.

It wasn't as if he was angry at my sister for being gay, but Buttercup tended to treat it that way. According to Buttercup, every little lecture or slap on the wrist made by him was due to her sexuality and how he despised her because of it. I wish she could see how open the Professor truly was. You hear lots of horror stories about kids and coming out to their parents. Some would kill to have such a kind father like the Professor. I guess it wasn't all too surprising or incredibly shocking in anyway to him that Buttercup liked girls. I don't think it was to anybody. That's why nobody said anything at that muttered comment she made. It was shrugged off as if she said something as simple as "I like chocolate cake," rather than "I like girls." Buttercup's quick, muttered comment was just a reaffirmation of what they already suspected.

To me, it was a very unexpected surprise. It wasn't so much a surprise, as if I never believed my sister to one to like girls; it was more of a realization that such a thing like sexuality existed in the world. Liking boys and liking girls. The idea hadn't crossed my naïve mind very often until that moment in my life. But was something like that truly that big of a deal?

I grew up at a slower pace than my sisters. I found the occasional boy cute, but the idea of doing anything with him just filled me with giggles. I had no interest in having a lover. Not for a long time. There were a lot of guys who would give me love notes and candy and ask me out on dates. I felt really awful when I turned them down, but I felt even worse when I accepted that very first, pathetic plea for a date by a guy, and only "led him on" and broke the poor boy's heart. After that, I turned every guy down from the start. They usually understood, although there were occasions when they didn't.

My sister Buttercup first beat up a guy on my behalf when we were fifteen-years-old. There was this kid named George who asked me out on a date everyday for two months. Everyday I said "No, but thanks anyway, Georgie," and tried to give him the nicest smile I could manage. But everyday, he tried to get closer to me, taking an extra step my way, or brushing himself against me when he left. But I'd keep that smile. What was he going to do to me? I was a Powerpuff Girl. It wasn't like he could ever do anything.

But about the fiftieth time he asked me out, Buttercup was at my side, and she didn't like the way he grabbed my hand after I tried to walk away, and in the blink of an eye the poor guy was unconscious on the floor. Before I could react, she grabbed my hand and led me away, yelling at me throughout the entire trip to our first period class.

"Don't you ever sit back and let a guy touch you like that ever again! Do you hear me?"

I quickly nodded and tried to keep from tearing up, "I'm sorry." I hated when she yelled at me.

Her face instantly softened, "It's okay. Just… don't let it happen again, okay?"

I nodded again. It wouldn't happen again. From then on, the boys at school wouldn't dare mess with me. Especially when Buttercup was in sight.

I guess I was lucky to have such a protective sister. I thought her actions to be a bit hypocritical though. She didn't want me or Blossom to be some victim of some guy and his icky, perverted sexual fantasies, yet at the same time, she was always charming every girl she could. Janie was her only girlfriend. After that, they were just girls. And a lot of them. They were affairs that would last for a couple months at most, and as little as a single day. Not until the day my sister started up her seductive spells, did I realize so many females actually resided in Townsville, let alone enough girls who were willing or curious enough to actually be with my sister. I bet she could swoon Mother Teresa.

I accidentally saw my sister Buttercup naked with another girl when were sixteen-years-old. After stopping some bank robbers, Blossom said she was going to go back to the school library, Buttercup said she was tired and was going to go home, and I felt like a delicious ice cream treat from Baskin Robbins. I guess Buttercup thought Blossom and I would take longer at our own destinations, because she obviously wasn't expecting me to return home so soon.

I entered the house and heard quiet laughter coming down the hall. I took just two steps and peeked my head around the corner and found a trail of scattered clothing on the floor, leading up to my sister and some girl at the end of the hall. Buttercup had her pressed up against the wall, and was kissing her on the neck, while stroking her hair, while the girl just seemed to be in complete, submissive ecstasy. She clung to my sister's naked body, releasing soft moans; she was so overcome by my sister, her knees trembled underneath her.

It was a few moments before I realized what I was seeing and quickly left the house, embarrassed and confused. I waited almost an hour before returning. When I did, the girl was gone, and Buttercup was clothed and watching television from the living room couch. She looked at me, "You wanna watch this movie with me?"

I immediately blushed, "N-no, that's okay!" and rushed upstairs to hide in my room until Blossom returned home.

I became a lot more distant from my sister after that day. I was afraid to be alone with her. I don't know why, but it made me feel uncomfortable. I'd get squirmy and my face would turn red when our eyes met. I don't know what was wrong with me. I never felt that way before and I was scared. I'd see her with other girls and become engulfed by so many emotions, even if she was just talking to that girl. I tried not to make it so obvious, and I tried to act as if nothing was wrong, but I guess I failed at that sort of thing.

One day, Buttercup snapped, as she tends to do when she's frustrated by things or people. And she was very frustrated with me and my odd behavior. She wanted me to go out for ice cream with her and I declined. I adore ice cream above anything else, but it was just going to be me and her, and that was something I just couldn't bring myself to do.

"Um, no thanks, Buttercup," I said trying to hide my blushing face by turning it away from her sight, "but thanks anyways." I turned to leave, but she grabbed my hand. I pulled away from her abruptly. She stared at me.

"What is your problem lately, Bubbles?"

"Nothing," I flushed.

She blinked at me for a while.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said. Before I could attempt leaving again, she grabbed my hand. Again I pulled away and I shouted back at her. "Stop it!"

She grabbed my hand again, with a tighter grip, that I couldn't let go of, and she yanked me towards her. She glared at me, "You're being a freak! Now, cut it out!"

"No! Let go of me!" I cried, just starting to tear up.

She let go as soon as she saw the tears. "Bubbles…" she said quietly, "Bubbles, what's wrong? You're being stupid…."

I just buried my face in my hands and wept.

"Bubbles…" she continued, "why can't you just go out and do something with your sister anymore? …We used to have lots of fun together… remember?"

"…Yeah," I sniffed. I felt her arms around me and I flinched.

"What's wrong, Bubbles?" she said softly.

"I don't know," I answered. I looked up at my sister for a brief moment, before quickly returning my gaze back down to the ground.

I felt her pet my face, "Bubbles…."

I gathered the courage to look up again. Our eyes locked. We seemed endlessly frozen like that.

At that moment, my sister Buttercup and I shared our first kiss, just one week before our seventeenth birthday.