Utonium stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his bowtie for the twelfth time.

"What if she doesn’t remember me?" "What if she does and regrets saying yes?"  "What if—"

"DAD." Blossom’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts as she floated into the room, arms crossed. "You’re overthinking this." 

The Professor sighed, shoulders slumping. "It’s been twenty years, Blossom. What if we don’t have anything in common anymore?" 

Blossom put a hand on his shoulder, her expression softening. "Dad, she agreed to go out with you. That means she wants to see you. And if it’s awkward? So what? At least you tried!"

A beat. Then— 

"Besides," she added with a smirk, "if Mojo Jojo hasn’t scared her off yet, your bad small talk won’t either."

The Professor chuckled, ruffling her hair. "When did you get so wise?"

"Birth."

Buttercup zoomed in, eyeing his outfit critically. "Okay, no—lose the bowtie. You look like a nerdy penguin." 

"But—"

"Nope." She snatched it off, then—in a move that would haunt him forever—lit it on fire with her laser vision.

"BUTTERCUP!"

"What? Now you have to go without it!"

Bubbles gasped, floating in with an armful of ties. "Ooooh! What about this one? Or this one? Or—"

"Bubbles, sweetie, I appreciate it, but—" 

"TOO LATE!" She tied three around his neck at once, then another around his forehead like a headband. "Now you look fancy and fun!"

The Professor stared at his reflection—a man wrapped in polka dots, stripes, and floral prints.

"...I look like a couch."

Blossom finally intervened, untangling him with a sigh. "Okay. Simple is better. Button-up, nice slacks, one tie—normal tie—and breathe."

The Professor took a deep breath. "You’re right. I just… I really missed her, girls."

The three of them exchanged glances. Then— 

Buttercup: "Ugh, fine—go get your lady, old man." (Punches his arm lightly.) Bubbles: "You’re gonna be great ! And if you’re not, we’ll beat up anyone who laughs!" (Hugs him.) Blossom: "Just be you, Dad. That’s why she liked you in the first place." (Kisses his cheek.)

As he walked out the door with a large bouquet the girls had put together, the trio peeked from the window, whispering. 

Buttercup: "Should we follow* him?" Blossom: "NO." Bubbles: "But what if he needs us?" Blossom: "He needs us to not embarrass him." She paused. "...But we can watch from a distance."