Overtaken - a BFB/II2 fanfic (very slow updates)

Day Three - A Heated Situation

August 3rd

The moment Firey woke up, he knew something was wrong. But he couldn't figure out what. 

At first, he thought it was because he had woken up in an unfamiliar bed. Then he remembered that he had spent the past two nights in Hotel OJ, as did the rest of his team. He was lucky that OJ had asbestos fire blankets for Bomb to sleep under, as well as a fireproof room; otherwise, he would have had to sleep outside the hotel.

The flame pushed his blanket off and winced. His bandage-wrapped hands were still sore from the overheated crystal he touched the other day. Paper had diagnosed his injury as only a first-degree burn, which was better than a second-degree or third-degree one, but it would still take several days to properly heal.

The clock by his bedside said 9:49 AM. Firey stiffened. He was going to miss the big pancake breakfast! Bursting out of his bedroom, he dashed through the hallway, leapt down the stairs in a single, impressive jump, and sprinted into the kitchen, slamming right into someone. "Ack!"

Paintbrush barely managed to avoid falling over. "Hey, watch it!" they exclaimed.

Firey rubbed his forehead. "Sorry. Are there any pancakes left?"

"Yes, there's plenty of pancakes left," a different voice chuckled. Firey glanced past Painty to see OJ flipping the famous breakfast treat at the stove. Paper and Pickle were chatting at the table, with Bottle devouring pancakes next to Paper like a madwoman. Grassy was sitting on the counter, feeding Rocky blueberries that looked like they were supposed to be in the pancakes. "Several people are sleeping in today," OJ continued, "so there's still lots to go around."

"Good. Because I'm starving!" Puffball sang as she floated through the doorway behind Firey. Paintbrush nodded agreement and grabbed a plate off the counter, piling several sugary treats on it.

Firey followed suit as he glanced around the table. "Only half of us are here? Are all the others really feeling weird?"

"Weird?" Paintbrush asked, sitting down next to Bottle. "There's nothing weird with wanting to get a few extra Z's. Why, are you feeling weird?"

"Yeah."

Pausing his conversation with Pickle, Paper chimed in. "Is it your hands? Do you need me to look at them?"

"No, I- well, my hands are still sore. But this is something else. I don't know what the feeling is, it's just..." He chewed on a pancake thoughtfully. "...different."

"Maybe you should go see Basketball," Grassy suggested from on the counter. "Basketball's the BEST helper Grassy knows!"

"Hm."

--------------------

Ten minutes later, having finished his delicious breakfast, Firey found Basketball chatting with Lightbulb outside the hotel. As he stepped closer, he could hear their conversation. "...you sure?"

"Yeah, it feels about the same-o."

"But I still don't really know what it means..."

"Me neither-o."

"Could you... stop adding '-o' to the end of your sentences?"

"No-o."

"Whatcha talkin' about?" Firey asked, catching their attention. Lightbulb waved. "Hey-o!"

Basketball opened her mouth to answer, then got a look on her face. "Hmmm... Firey, can you help us test something?"

He blinked. "Uhh, sure?"