#delayed reaction

The crank of the wrench that Blossom was currently wielding was unable to mask the volume of the throaty chuckle she heard behind her.

At first, she ignored it, focusing all of her attention on her efforts—efforts she had been attending to ever since she had arrived that afternoon, two days after their party—to fix Mojo's oven as she attached the replacement door she had gotten for it. These were also efforts that, at first, he had told her she didn't have to do (despite being predictably upset at the state of his crushed oven), but she had insisted on repairing it for him... foolishly, maybe, she now thought.

The chuckling grew louder, and more deliberate, and more irritating. Finally, she sighed, and turned to see Mojo, casually leaning against the kitchen island with a newspaper in his hand and a pleased looking grin on his face as he watched her work.

"We're doing this again?" she asked, exasperation abundantly apparent in her voice. "Really?"

"Oh no, no, I am taking no delight in your voluntary labor. But Blossom." He paused, seemingly for effect. The grin on his face was absolutely glowing, and in a way that was slowly beginning to unnerve her. "Your generosity truly knows no bounds. Really. I know all too well that you are a heroine, yet I truly, truly, truly did not imagine that your heart was of such a massive size to accommodate such overwhelming levels of altruism. It is almost sickening, but in the greatest of ways, ways in which–"

"Oh, just spit it out!" she snapped, crossing her arms. "What are you talking about?!"

"You did not have to get me three birthday gifts."

"I…" She knit her brow, staring at him in confusion. Three gifts? "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, I only just discovered the most marvelous thing while perusing the morning paper. I cannot even believe you of all people were able to execute such an act so well! Then again, perhaps I should believe it, hmm?"

He flipped to the International News section and held it out towards her, his grin growing even larger.

"The only disappointing part, however, is that your acts did not make the front page, which is a shame, really."

Blossom squinted at the paper, noticing a small image, barely even two inches in width and height. It was a blurry black and white CCTV image of an all too familiar individual rushing out of the doors of an all too familiar patisserie. A headline loomed above it:

POSH PASTRY PURLOINED IN PARIS : LOOTER STILL AT LARGE

"What?!"

Blossom shot up and snatched the paper from Mojo, scanning through the article.

"…mysterious girl, passersby say around 15 years– 15, really?!" She continued reading, muttering under her breath, "Entered La Pâtisserie du Singe Hautain, swept off with the store's most expensive cake…"

She felt herself flush as she looked back up at his face, bursting with mirth.

"I didn't steal it!"

"Oh!" Mojo leaned forward, his wide eyes glittering with mischief. "Do tell, Blossom! Did you simply borrow it?"

"No," she shot back, wrinkling her nose at him. "I told the guy at the counter to send the bill for the cake to Townsville! I didn't have enough money on me when I was there! I only—oh, will you get that stupid smug look off of your face?!"

Mojo's booming laughter filled the kitchen as he held his sides. No amount of "quit it!"'s and "knock it off"'s could stop him, and it was only when he seemed to be out of breath that he finally calmed down.

"Ha… ha…. oh, it is just too good!" he wheezed. "Although, I suppose in a case like this, it is so bad, is it not?"

Blossom slapped the newspaper onto the island.

"I will pay them back for the cake. Eventually."

Mojo nodded, rolling his eyes as he smirked.

"Mm, yes, of course you will."

"Of course I will!"

"What, is there an echo in my kitchen now?" Blossom groaned as he chuckled at his joke. "Anyway, thank you Blossom. Really. Truly." Mojo picked the newspaper off of the counter top and held it up proudly. "It is the kind of story that I am suddenly finding myself compelled to have framed, just so I can gaze upon it whenever I wish and remind myself of the depths of my dear friend's immensely generous nature, for it is–"

"Quit while you're ahead."

Mojo nodded, his teasing smirk still present on his face as he walked out of the kitchen. Ugh, why did he have to see that?! Her inner voice once again expressed its ever annoying opinion that his villainy was rubbing off on her, and questioned her as to why she hadn't actually sought out to pay that bill for the cake yet. No, he was not rubbing off on her. Yes, she hadn't paid the bill, but it had only been two days. She had time to anonymously send some money back to the patisserie. She wouldn't leave the matter unsettled. She would fix things, just like she had just finished fixing—

BAM!