Angel ♡ Eyes

♡ Chapter 4

'This is fucking ridiculous.' Buttercup looked out the window. They'd all been thrown onto a private jet and were now being flown across the nation in order to retrieve a man who could lead to the downfall of the government. With zero plan on how to get it done.

"BC, huh?" Buttercups eyes darted from the fields of farmland to the guy who sat down in front of her.

"Not to you." She grumbled.

"I'm Butch."

"I'm aware." Her voice was very monotone. For some reason her database couldn't bypass into his history. It was taking an incredibly long time for her to breakthrough all the tall walls he had around his profile.

Butch chuckled then leaned back in his seat. "So, Butters." He paused to watch her reaction to the nickname. Her nose scrunched up and her eyes glared at him. "How's today been?"

"Seriously?" She couldn't help but laugh. "Dude it's like eleven o'clock at night and— shit." She shut her eyes and groaned. Buttercup stood up and turned around to face her sisters in the seats catty corner to where she was seated. "Bubbles! Blossom!" Bubbles appeared to be asleep whereas Blossom kept nodding off.

"What's up BC?" Blossom yawned.

"Medication. Bubbles especially." Buttercup pointed out.

"Ugh. Crap." Blossom groaned and got up. "Thanks."

Buttercup sat back down, only to remember the former black-ops agent in front of her. He was smiling at her like he'd just witnessed the lottery being won. "So B-fly—"

"B-fly?" Buttercup arched an eyebrow.

"I've got more if you wanna hear 'em, Butterboo." Butch winked at her before continuing on with his earlier sentence. "If the world ends, what's the backup plan?"

"We don't even have a plan A, how're we supposed to figure out plan B?" She tilted her head. The gears in her hand began to tighten. She had to fight back the urge to make a face. Suddenly there was a screwdriver and a washer in her lap.

Blossom stared down at her and smiled. "You look like you could some sleep, Buttercup." Blossom rubbed her eyes, black smudges of mascara running across her face.

"So do you." Buttercup picked up the washer, the familiar cold metal against her skin helped ease her into relaxing. It was calming for a second but then her hand started yelling at her. She put down the washer and grabbed the screwdriver.

Buttercup pried open the panel of her hand--located on her wrist--and looked at the wires. They ran through her like veins under flesh. Attached to her nervous system, the blue wires were the ones she hated toying with the most. But every so often she gets a sudden tick that reminds her she's walking on thin ice.

She usually worked on her gears a few times each week. Each day had its own designated time set aside so she could make sure she was still functioning as she should.

She just usually ignored the blue wiring until it was almost too late.

Luckily for her, she didn't need to work with them right now. A few more days and then she'd have to untangle them and possibly rewire that one pesky coil that likes to annoy her.

No, right now it was a simple gear loosening. They loved to tighten more than usual when she was stressing out. And all the last few hours have brought here was unnecessary amounts of stress.

"I could use some sleep." Butch piped in. "Sleep sounds amazing."

"Whatever happened to plan B?" Buttercup rolled her eyes. She put the handle of the screwdriver in her mouth as her fingers worked at pushing aside some brass coils.