Chapter Five - Come Away with Me
Shego was in pure hell.
She woke with a start. The dim light refracted on beaded sweat, rolling off her smooth green skin as she sat up. Her hair, a naturally glossy mane, was tangled and matted. Her chest heaved for air. The woman stayed propped on her elbows for a few more hoarse, panting breaths, then sat up, grinding the heels of her slender hands into her glowing green eyes.
"Fuck..." she muttered. The dream had been so vivid, so real. Fading as quickly as she woke, the details slipping away.
She remembered red hair. She remembered a sweet innocent smile, smooth strokes, a pooling of pleasure. The torturous culmination of motion that never seemed to arrive, but continued to mock and frustrate her, unabated.
Butterfly winged glimpses of exquisite impalement, the red hair moving rhythmically above her, her own hips counterpoint in harmonious union... Shego shook her head violently even as the feelings of desire and dread intermingled within the confines of her head. So erotic, yet there was a sense of loss and despair, a dark nightmarish pall that could not be dispelled. In the middle of their intimacy, the redhead had disappeared, a cold shearing dislocation; she could still feel the girl's presence, but the hero was nowhere to be found, like movement caught in peripheral vision. The hurried, desperate search that had followed, the desire and dread beating heavier upon her, crushing her, drowning her. The elusive release taunting her, haunting her...
Although sick with dread, the woman's loins pulsated in angry and sullen torment, her passion soaked sheets clinging uncomfortably.
Ever since the redhead had taken her to bed, Shego had suffered recurring nightmares filled with raw animalistic imagery, confinement and sensual desperation. Dreams accompanied by a claustrophobic craving and tantalizing stimulation that caused her to bolt out of sleep, hands searching for something, anything, to assuage the rampant needs ravaging her subconscious. Yet any release seemed to only further stoke the fires that raged within her.
Today, the third day, Shego decided she needed a cold shower.
She had avoided her Kim-watch the last couple of days, her mind and feelings a roiling turmoil inside her, indistinct and primal since Pumpkin "captured" and ravished her to their mutual benefit. The longer she stayed away, the stronger her subconscious rebelled.
The desires drove her to do things, stupid things. Like the picture. Shego smirked to herself, remembering how she took the picture. The bra was in the drawer of her bedside table. Sneaking into school these days was a lot different than her own generation. Metal detectors, alarms, guards with dogs and pepper spray, closed circuit cameras, security glass; it was like breaking into prison. It only took two minutes to get Kim's locker number. Shego hoped Kim was enjoying that little thing.
She staggered out of the sweat twisted silk and fumbled toward the bathroom. As the cold water sprayed down, the green-tinted woman sighed. The cool water splashed onto her face was a welcome relief from her overheated libido.
She couldn't stay away from Kim. Her thoughts were full of her. Even filing her nails, she would pause, mid-file, her eyes glazing as she replayed that night with Princess, revelling in how they had sampled each other's passion, release after release. How she had explored the soft, smooth inner thigh of the girl, nipped at the moaning teen's earlobes. How her hands had worshipped the girl's peach coloured skin in bright fervent strokes, coaxing melodious gasps from the redhead.
Shego forced herself to shower for another ten minutes.
I want to see Princess. I need to see her.
She pulled on the tight cat suit; no underwear, since it would show.
Not that I need it, she smirked. Coffee, training, then... she couldn't repress her sigh, already feeling defeated; then more time to file her nails. More time to remember Kimmie's sweetness.
She wandered into the main chamber, where Drakken normally set up his lab in each lair. Shego had long concluded it was for maximum exposure. It was prime gloat and rant real-estate to a paid audience. The blue scientist wasn't to be seen. Shego stopped by the cafeteria and found a couple of henchmen chatting over their own morning waker-upper.
“Eddie, where's Drakken?” she asked as she filled a mug with morning mud.
“In the hangar, boss,” the slightly overweight henchman replied. “Hey you in for this week's pool? Your team's on a hot streak.”
“Sure. Here,” she said, slapping a twenty in the man's hand before heading out. "Don't forget, training right before lunch."
"Sure, boss, we'll be there."
“Where the hell did she get that from? There's no pockets on that suit,” she heard the other henchman wonder as she left.
“Lemme give you a tip, Joe, since you're new. Keep your mind off the boss. She'll break you in half and flash fry what's left...”
She entered the hangar, where the two hoverpods were parked. Drakken was tinkering with one of them, his feet sticking out from under the fuselage. Shego stopped just beside the man's boots, swung back a hand, then slapped the deck hard. She was rewarded by a loud clang that reverberated through the high ceiling. A softer, squishier clang echoed hers.
“Ow! Mrrrph! Who did that?” came his outraged voice. Drakken slid out from under the hoverpod, rubbing his reddened forehead. “I really don't appre-” he stopped seeing the woman sipping her coffee while leaning against the hoverpod. “Oh, Shego. Ha ha, very funny.”
“Whatcha working on, Doc?”
“My latest scheme, Shego. It's so brilliant, no one will expect it!” Drakken sat up, a wrench in his hand.
“Uh, yeah. So, what?”
“A few modifications to the hoverpod, making it space worthy, added radiation and upgraded electro-magnetic shielding. Just finished installing the micro-oxygen tanks."
"Uh-huh. Less detail, more plan," she said, her eyes looking at the blue man as he stood up, brushing at his jacket with his free hand. His kicked puppy expression made Shego smirk. Just too easy.
"You know, if you can't perceive genius-" A sudden flash of green plasma caused Drakken to yelp as the wrench melted into a formless mass.
"Ya might wanna think very carefully what you're going to say there, Doc," she warned as the man shook his smoking gloved hand.
"That's alright by me...?" Drakken looked at the woman hopefully.
"That'll do," Shego shrugged. "So. Plan. Talk."
"Listen well then! We drag a massive electromagnetic pulse syphon into space and hold the world hostage by threatening to disrupt the Earth's magnetic field. It's brilliant!"
"And if they don't pay up? Even if they do, what's to stop them from turning on us the moment we land? And you just know they'll be sending Princess up after us." Not to mention the fact that the world would be destroyed... Shego rolled her eyes. Drakken was clueless, but at least he paid well and had decent benefits, if you kept an eye on him.
"Ya know what? Lemme make it easier for you. I'll test this thing and see if we can do it. Alright?"
Drakken froze for a moment. Shego, offering to help a scheme along that involved work? Stupendous! Perhaps she's coming around, after all these years.
"Of course! That would be excellent, Shego. Let me make sure the modifications are ready and the oxygen tank topped up. Now if you'll excuse me..." The blue man's manic grin was pathetic, but Shego allowed herself another eye-roll as the blue man pushed himself back under the hoverpod.
She left the hangar. Stopped by the cafeteria to drop off her mug, then headed to her room. Within the safe confines of her privacy, something Shego regularly maintained with a variety of gadgets and personal sweeps, she sat in a luxurious divan and pulled out a handheld, a device with black leather and green tinted titanium. She turned it on and with a few button presses had a map and a flashing purple dot. The dot moved about a schematic of rooms and corridors. Shego smiled. So Princess found her little gift. It was an old trick of hers when she was still exclusively freelancing. A self pressed calling card; the lip print itself was the tracker.
She checked the time. Half an hour before training. After a few more button presses, she found what she was looking for and smiled.
Timing's just right. Maybe Princess would like to go for a joyride... Shego leaned back into the divan, knowing she would be counting the seconds until she went to buzz the teen. Her Nemesis. Her Lover. Shego did something even more uncharacteristic for her.
It wasn't as if it was something she never did, rather it was the quality of it. It wasn't a smirk of arrogant self-confidence or the punch line quirk of a truly masterful zinger. It wasn't amused or long-suffering. It was uncharacteristic because it was genuine.
Maybe a picnic. A little food a little wine... no wine, little prissy Princess probably wouldn't drink it.
The woman jumped to her feet and headed for the training hall with a blessedly unconscious bounce to her step.
“Boss,” Eddie groaned from the ground where the green skinned thief had thrown him. Around the cerulean mat padded training hall, ten other pairs of red-suited men practised throws. “There's something different about you.” Shego's eyes flashed dangerously.
“What, I didn't throw you to the mat hard enough?”
“Uh, not that,” the man said, not getting up. Shego wondered if he thought she wouldn't school him if he was already down. “You're kinda... peppy, today.”
“Huh? That's a new one,” she blinked.
“I mean, you're really going at it hard today,” Eddie sat up, rubbing the small of his back, wondering just how the heck does one get thrown onto that part of the anatomy. Shego shook her head and checked a dim time display on the inside of her left forearm. She clapped her hands, a sharp gunshot sound that immediately caught the henchmen's attention.
“Alright, let's break for lunch. Eddie's got a sore back; Jay, you stack the mats with Mark. The rest of you, ten laps before you hit the showers. Joe, a word?”
“Yes, Boss,” the men shouted before thundering over to the track that ran around the large room. The tall lanky man Shego had seen with Eddie in the cafeteria limped up.
“Your endurance is a little low for your height and weight. You need to improve your cardio too,” Shego said as she adjusted her gloves, her glance telling her exactly where the man's eyes were. “I want you to come up with a regimen for the next three weeks and drop it off in my box. Okay, hit the track.”
“Bitch,” the man muttered as he passed her.
She slammed a knee into the man's stomach before he took another step. As he bent over, gasping, she pivoted and with her back to him, hooked his near arm with her left. She rolled over the man, back to back, her legs high up in the air. She whipped her legs down. As planted her feet, she pulled her hooked arm and heaved, throwing the man into a spinning fall ten feet away. Even as he flew through the air, she sent a flaming concussive bolt after him. As he crashed to the ground, the bolt scorched the mat between his legs, missing his privates by two centimetres. The man yelped, instinctively covering himself. Eddie, standing behind Shego, sighed and rolled his eyes.
“Sorry, boss. Get rid of 'im?”
“Is he freelance or Hench Co.?”
“Yeah, get rid of him. What's Jack thinking, sending us guys like that?” Shego shook her head.
“Don't worry boss, I'll take care of it,” Eddie cracked his knuckles and gave her his “bad-ass” grin. Shego smirked and clapped the hulking man on the shoulder. As she headed for the door, Eddie called a couple of men off the track to help.
“Jack, Dave, let's show Joe the door.”
“Jeebus, Joe, you're such a moron.”
“She's just trying to keep your butt from being kicked too hard by that cheerleader.”
“Surprised she just didn't barbecue him like she did to Arbel, six months ago...”
By the time she stepped out the door, her mind was on something else.
She'd been training the henchmen since Drakken's failed Li'l Diablo plan. Synthodrones, no matter how dangerous, were still just bags of poorly protected goo. Robots could be hacked and destroyed without a second thought. No matter how meat-headed the henchmen were, they still bought Drakken precious time to accomplish his plans. That and Kim was getting so strong now, the men were being hurt more and more seriously, graduating from strains, bruises and headaches to dislocations, fractures and concussions. Claims were through the roof.
Shego smirked to herself as she continued down the corridor to her room. Kimmie was small, but did she pack a hell of a punch. And her technique... Shego flushed a little at the thought. Her technique was immaculate. The girl was a natural. The green of Shego's cheeks deepened as her chest felt a strange fluttery feeling.
The woman reached her room and opened the secured door. Shower.... again. She stripped off her catsuit and put it on a special hanger, then carefully hung it in a stainless steel closet. The door hissed closed and she pressed a few buttons to start the dry clean process. One of Doctor D's true-genius inventions.
She adjusted the temperature and stepped in, the scalding water spreading sweet relaxation through her. Time for a reality check. Kim was constantly on her mind. And it was a fact that Shego would be up against her when the time came for the teen to stop Drakken's latest bid for power. Could she still bring her all after the girl? A redheaded teen that had made her body ache and sing at the same time? A hero that stood for all things wholesome? The girl next door, little miss perfect, cheerleader, apple-pie?
Shego leaned against the tiles under the shower head.
She's a hero, and I'm a villain. How could this work? It'll never work. I'm evil, and she's.... she's just so... perfect. My perfect Princess. So when she shows up with the buffoon and the naked pink thing, am I just gonna roll over and let her take me? Is she gonna just let me walk?
No way. She hates to lose. Shego thought how the redhead had matched her stroke for stroke, orgasm for orgasm, that competitive spirit in the girl glowing in the midst of their lovemaking.
And I won't lose to anybody. No. Not even her.
Dammit. Maybe she'll come over to the dark side? Yeah, as if. She won't leave that, not even for me. Hell, it's one of the things I love about her.
Shego's eyes opened in shock.
Oh gawd. Did I just say the “L” word?
Yeah, I guess I did.
Maybe she'll come away with me. I.... I gotta ask. I need to. I don't know what I'm doing, and she's so deep in me... I just can't.... I don't know. Could I really.... leave things.... like that? Could she?
Elope with a thief wanted in more countries than the Commonwealth?
Yeah, like that'd happen.
Shego shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. She patted herself dry, then put on her moisturizer. She wrapped a soft black terry-cloth towel around her torso and sat down with a pumice stone for the soles of her feet. That finished, she flipped her sodden hair over one shoulder and began to run her softly glowing hands through them, using her plasma to dry the hair. Periodically she would alternate shoulders.
Her hair was her pride and joy, something she'd been growing out since she was four. Before her powers, it took over three hours to dry the three and a half feet of hair. Now, it took about thirty minutes. And she took very good care of it. Unfortunately, she'd had to cut it after rescuing the teen, evening it out after the tumbling vehicle had sheared inches off the back; that was always a bitch. With strands stronger than many metals, Shego had to use her plasma to crop it herself.
Kim had been mesmerized by the falling dark waves. She had run her hands through it again and again, prompting the woman to try something she'd only read about. She'd taken the curtain of her soft ebony hair, laid it upon the hero and tantalizingly brushed it across the teen's heated skin. The girl had arched and gasped under the glossy black swathes, her eyes wide with delighted disbelief, dark and deep with passion. On the third time, the hero had twitched and writhed in the throes of a powerful release. Shego's smile turned into a frown as her overactive mind returned to a particular girl that just wouldn't leave her alone.
Shego had built her reputation job by job, task by task. She'd made special pains to do fantastical thefts that left the local authorities scratching their heads. Even after she'd stopped leaving calling cards, unsolved and brilliant thefts were always shoved in a folder five inches thick in the Interpol headquarters under the Black Lipstick Thief File. She had spent countless hours training, learning, perfecting her skills. Could she leave all that?
Shego shook her head as she walked out and checked the clock. If she left now, she'd have plenty of time to pick up the necessary items for tonight's excursion. The rush of thoughts and emotions cleared her mind of her doubts, leaving only a single thought.
I'm going to see her.