Dr. Ravi Vora bored her piercing, dark eyes into those of Dr. Waldman's as she looked at the man who stood a foot taller than her stocky 5' 2". She had just seen the latest CAT scan done on Bubbles, who lay in the prep room just outside Operating Room #3, hooked up to the monitors once again. Waldman had briefly explained to the 35 year old neurosurgeon whose specialty was children with brain tumors, what Professor Utonium's plan hoped to accomplish. She shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Adam, but no." she began, with just the trace of a lilting accent in her voice, left over from her childhood in her native India. "I understand what you are thinking, but that," she said, indicating the scan on the wall with her highly-skilled left hand, "tells me there is no use. I will not subject the child to needless surgery. Hers is a unique case and there is nothing I can learn from her that may be useful in treating other patients like her. There ARE no other patients like her."

He hadn't really expected a different answer once he'd seen the newest scan himself. The tumors had all connected into one dark mass in the center of the brain, and the outermost edges had gone to a pale yellow, meaning the heat was gradually draining from the dead tissue. What was keeping Bubbles breathing was a mystery to him. Everything, all her major organs, had shut down. Her respiration and heart rates were at levels that could not sustain life. Her blood oxygen level, in spite of the pure oxygen she had been fed through the mask, had dropped to 40% and that meant imminent death. Yet her slow, shallow breathing was not labored and she didn't seem to be struggling. In fact, when they had first reattached all of the contacts and the heart and respiration rates were shown to be below the critical point, they had tried hooking her up to a respirator. Though her eyes never opened, her body leaped several inches off of the bed and it took two nurses and Waldman himself to hold her down. She didn't stop fighting them until the respirator had been removed. It may have just been the convulsions that were long overdue anyway, considering the destruction of her brain tissue, but to Waldman it had seemed as if Bubbles was telling them "Please, no machines! Just let me go!"

His earlier prognosis, given what he was seeing, may have been wrong. Her death may no longer be just hours away. It might be another whole day, but the end result would still be the same. She was, for all practical purposes, already gone. The most important indicator of life, on the monitor showing her brain activity, had flatlined shortly after the failed respirator episode. That meant no more instructions were being sent out from the brain to the body. Her heart and lungs were slowing, and would continue to slow until they could slow no more. He could only chalk it up to the unique Powerpuff physiology that she could last even this long. Dr. Vora was right, they had no other basis for comparison, nothing at all to really learn from her.

He looked at the attractive, dark-skinned face and sighed. "Yes, Ravi, I guess you're right. I was holding out some hope, still."

She touched his arm and gave a sad smile. "Yes, Adam, I was, too, when you told me about this idea. I know how much the girls mean to this city, and I don't like it, either. But Professor Utonium's plan may prove to be beneficial after all. I would like very much to try it in another application."

A nurse stuck her head in the door. "Sorry to interrupt, but Dr. Waldman, they need you in Bubbles' room. Blossom is having headaches."

The two physicians looked at each other sharply. Waldman told the nurse, "Have her sent to imaging immediately and I'll be there shortly. Have word sent to the main desk that when Professor Utonium and Buttercup arrive, she is to be brought directly there."

The nurse left quickly. Waldman muttered to himself, "Why the hell didn't I have them ALL tested?"

Vora touched his arm reassuringly. "Remember what every first-year intern is taught, Adam. When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras. No one could have thought this might be happening to all of them, and it still might not."

"Yes, of course, Ravi. But just the same...Maybe you should go ahead and prep just in case. You might get to try this out anyway."

* * * * * * *

Buttercup did what she was told and rapidly gathered some changes of clothes for herself, Blossom and the professor. In an act of hope, she also grabbed one for Bubbles, too. He'd suggested that she ought to bring something along to keep them busy, as no one knew how long they'd be there or when they might get a chance to get home again. She got a few of Blossom's books that she guessed her sister might like to read, and for herself, took her hand-held video game and her three most favorite cartridges. She didn't know if the hospital would have any of that stuff, so she brought toothpaste and four new toothbrushes, still in their boxes. She threw everything into an overnight bag and started to zip it shut, but was thinking that she had forgotten something. She flew back to their room and looked around, trying to figure out what it could be. She had their clothes, stuff to do, stuff they needed...she saw Bubbles' crayon artwork hanging on the wall, and it hit her like a kick to the stomach. Bubbles might never again see this room or any of her favorite things in it.

"No! Don't think that! She's coming home, just keep telling yourself that!"

She turned to go and caught herself. THAT'S what she'd forgotten. Octi. She flew to the bed and picked up her sister's beloved stuffed octopus, held it to her chest for a moment, then left the room and gently laid it in the bag on top of everything else. She zipped the bag shut and took it with her, down to the lab to see if the professor needed any help.

* * * * * * *

Professor Utonium stood briefly with the weapon in his hand, wondering, as he'd done right after that strange encounter the girls had had, just how the heck FLEAS could come up with something like this? Why couldn't he? Oh, well, if you were that small and just happened to be sentient, you very well MIGHT put all of your energies into something that could affect the size of objects in relation to you.

After checking to see that the batteries were fresh, he tested it on some empty glass bottles; first increasing their size, then shrinking them to miniatures, then finally returning them to their original dimensions. This was to be certain the switches that controlled the settings were working properly. Next, he found an AC adapter amongst his collection of them, that would allow the gun to work with alternating current instead of batteries, just in case they failed. He then re-tested it, with the same results. That was all, time to go as soon as Buttercup was ready.

"I got everything, Professor!"

He spun to see her holding the bag that was crammed full. He looked at his watch. Eleven-twenty. "Let's go!"

* * * * * * *

At eleven thirty, Sara Bellum sat in the waiting area in the imaging unit while Blossom underwent a CAT scan. At the same time, Matt LeBeau sat unnoticed in the main waiting area out front. After grabbing a sandwich and a soda in the cafeteria, he'd made his way out there, because Stanley had told him that Professor Utonium and Buttercup had left the hospital. He was just hanging out, waiting for them to come back. Stanley, he guessed, was probably already outside with a crew.

At the same time, Buttercup saw the figure she'd seen so many times, standing outside the hospital on the steps, dressed in his usual dark suit and tie. With him was a man with a portable video camera.

"Aw, man!" she said, as she started to bank down toward the hospital.

"What, Buttercup?" the professor responded as he held both the carryall and the weapon concealed in another bag. "Did we forget something?"

"No, Professor, it's Stanley! Somebody found out!"

"Oh, great, that's all we need. Well, we'll just have to play dumb."

She braked herself, lowering to the sidewalk and gently standing the professor on his feet. She took the bag with their stuff in it from him and floated alongside as he started up the steps toward the two men who were waiting for them.

* * * * * * *

Stanley Whitfield was a true believer in the journalist's credo that the people had a right to know. But he was also a life-long citizen of Townsville and never held any ambitions beyond the place he loved. He would never do anything intentionally to harm it. He believed that while the people DID have a right to know, they didn't need to know everything as it was happening. The facts could always come out later. He felt that he was an excellent judge of when to present those facts. But he did not like having facts withheld from him, and he sensed that the hospital was doing just that. He intended to get them. Once he knew what was going on, then he could decide best how to put the story out. If there were something that ought not to be made public, for the risks it might present, then it could wait until there was no longer any risk. He would learn what he could from Professor Utonium, add that to what he already had from his young colleague inside, and then try to fill in the gaps with the man himself, Dr. Timothy Johns.

He stepped forward. "Professor Utonium, can you tell us Bubbles? condition?"

"Not now, Stanley."

"Is it unchanged since this morning?"

"It was when we left to go get a few things. Now, if you'll excuse-"

"We said not now, Stanley!" Buttercup barked, thrusting her face in the reporter's. That wasn't unexpected, given the girl's normal disposition, but as he let them pass, Whitfield noted that Utonium seemed unusually tense. He would wait a few minutes and then try to find the reclusive Dr. Johns.

* * * * * * *

LeBeau saw them coming through the door. He let them approach the desk and quietly got up and took a seat closer to them, where he could watch and listen. He picked up a magazine and raised it in front of his face, blocking it from sight but allowing him to see out over the top.

One of the receptionists picked up her phone and said, "They're back." She stood. "Professor, they're waiting for you in O.R. #3."

Out of the corner of his right eye, LeBeau saw two security guards come from the hallway behind and approach the desk. He also saw a nurse coming from the opposite direction.

"Professor, we just need to take a quick look at that thing you've got." one of the guards said, looking down at the bag Utonium had in his hand. "Rules require all weapons be checked."

"Weapons? What the?" LeBeau hoped his flinching hadn't been noticed. He couldn't believe it when the guard unzipped the bag and pulled out what looked like a laser rifle of some sort. A last-ditch attempt to try to save his daughter, and he was surprised that doctors would even think of allowing it. "I've got to get back there!"

He started to think of how, but he heard something else as the gun was replaced and the bag zipped up. As the guard said, "Follow us.", the nurse stepped forward.

"Buttercup, would you come with me? Blossom is waiting for you back there."

"Back where?" the child asked, and the professor looked over at the nurse.

"What's this all about?"

"Nothing to be concerned about, Professor. Dr. Waldman ordered CAT scans for them, but it's just a routine precaution."

Buttercup turned to him, aghast. "No!"

"Now, Buttercup, it's just a precaution, and a good one, too. Just keep thinking positive." He lifted the bag and smiled. "I'll see you two later."

"Okay." she smiled back. She floated along with the nurse and Utonium went off with the two guards. LeBeau sat there, thinking.

"Just a precaution, eh? What if it isn't?"

If it was nothing urgent, why have a nurse out here just waiting for her to show up? They could just as easily have escorted her there after they'd gotten back to the O.R., which wasn't far from the imaging unit. Or not. Maybe he was reading too much into it, but still... a swing past the imaging unit wouldn't be a bad idea...