Stress! Stress! Stress!
Ninnik Nishukan
Summary: This is how frustration somewhere between Larry's Birthday and Graduation, and obviously goes AU or whatever you call it. Warning: DO NOT READ! Contains highly detailed acts of a sexual nature! BOO!
Finally, Shego came back from her shower, her long hair looking blow-dried and fresh.
Even if he'd had his shower in his own private bathroom and didn't have to wait his turn, he'd had to wait quite a while for her. If he hadn't felt so nervous about the unusual situation, he would've fallen asleep.
When she halted in front of him where he was sitting on the edge of his bed, watching television, he found himself standing up attentively as he saw her, fumbling with the remote and quickly switching the TV off. With a pinch in his gut, he realized that he had to look like a dork to her, acting all skittish like that.
Suddenly he was very glad he'd remembered to remove his teddy bear from his bed and hide it in a drawer.
To his surprise, however, she didn't make fun of him. She only dithered a little, running her fingers through her hair in an almost self-conscious manner. They stood there looking dumbly at each other, and he noticed that her pajama bottoms were flannel, like his own, and a soft shade of green to match the strappy cotton undershirt she was also wearing. Somehow, getting to see her in her night clothes in his bedroom felt nearly even more intimate than what they'd done earlier.
Shego's gaze travelled across his room, her eyebrows rising at the questionable decor, but she found herself with no snappy comments when her eyes met his, and she simply she stood there, looking at him looking at her. He was wearing a black, comfy-looking T-shirt, and she'd seen him in those stripy, blue pajama pants before, but now that he was wearing them inside his bedroom and they were about to turn in for the night together instead of apart as usual, as they were about to actually share a bed—
The whole scene just felt so warm and domestic to her, such a stark contrast to the wild, unexpected and somewhat intimidating passion of what had happened in the elevator...but at the same time, the current situation actually felt more intimidating, in a way.
This wasn't some random thing that was happening because they were overcome by their emotions and their hormones, this was them deliberately coming together, doing their nightly rituals and putting on their night clothes with the conscious intention of preparing themselves for sleeping in the same bed. There was no excuse for this.
Not that there was any believable excuse for what they'd done earlier, either.
What did he see on her face? Could he tell what she was thinking?
He'd seen her without her make-up on plenty of times before, whenever she'd been sick, whenever they'd bumped into each other during early mornings— and maintaining your make-up wasn't exactly an option when you were on the run from the law with nothing but a prison uniform and a couple of bent spoons and toothbrushes on your person— but for some reason, this time she suddenly felt quite naked now that she'd removed it.
Gah...maybe this was a bad idea.
She took a step back, her teeth sinking worriedly into the inside of her bottom lip.
What was I thinking, agreeing to sleep in his bed as if—
The frown spread across Drakken's whole face, his frame tensing up and his hand reaching out for her tentatively— even though she was on the other side of the room— before dropping back to his side. It made her hesitate again, but this time she was uncertain whether she actually wanted to leave, not whether she wanted to stay.
—but then again, he was the one who invited me, it would be his fault— she'd have somebody to blame. It wasn't as if she'd suggested— fine. It was fine. She could do this.
It was funny; here she'd been the one who'd practically torn him a new one, accusing him of trying to ignore the whole thing like a jerk, yet now there she was, contemplating turning tail and running when he'd done the complete opposite of what she'd accused him of and had invited her to sleep with him— literally this time.
Shaking her head almost unnoticeably, Shego took a step towards Drakken. She might as well just go ahead.
She showed him a lopsided smirk. "So, is the Incredible Hulk feeling a little calmer now? Or does Hulk still feel like smashing something?" Reaching out, Shego placed a hand on Drakken's chest. Drakken looked down and saw that it was over his heart.
Looking up and meeting her gaze, he noticed that there was something else behind the amusement, and it dawned on him that maybe she really had been worried that he might just...well, actually have a heart attack. Briefly, he felt a spark of annoyance flare up in him; was that what she thought of him? Okay, so he was older than her, but it wasn't as if he was some crotchety geezer— he was only forty-two, not sixty-seven, and he was in no danger of—
Still, her concern was oddly touching, even if she caked about fifteen layers of sarcasm, cynicism and teasing over it. Now that he had indeed calmed down, he could almost find her false bravado endearing, no matter how exasperating it could get and no matter how many times he'd wished she'd be more straightforward about expressing her thoughts and feelings. It didn't exactly help that he wasn't the most experienced man in having to deal with the female psyche in relationship situations, either, and especially since Shego was a particularly tough nut to crack.
He considered telling her that he'd never had any problems with high blood pressure, but that would be acknowledging the fact that he knew she'd been concerned about his health in the first place, and he wasn't sure how well she'd take that.
"I'm okay," he said simply, unwilling to rise to the bait of the 'Hulk' remark.
She snorted. "Sure. Now let's get you to bed before you collapse or something."
Suddenly, he transformed into his grumpy old self again. "I don't look that bad!"
Shego waved a hand at his face. "The circles around your eyes are more...circly than usual, if that's even possible."
"Well, then maybe you could've been more considerate and hurried up so I could get to bed," he huffed, not appreciating the comment about his appearance. "What took you so long, anyway?"
"Oh, I remembered something and had to take a little detour..." She answered enigmatically.
"Hmm?"
"You forgot about the fact that there are security cameras in the elevators, didn't you?" She asked in a flat tone, not waiting for an answer. "Yeah, so did I."
Drakken blanched. "Oh, snap. Did any henchmen see...?"
Shego shook her head. "Apparently, Jimmy was on duty tonight."
He frowned. "Jimmy...? Since when do you bother to learn the names of the henchmen?"
"I don't," Shego said simply, shrugging. "That's just what he told me his name was. But I've seen him around— you know, short, stocky, falls asleep on duty a lot?"
"Oh, Jimmy, right— I found him slumped over the control board last Wednesday...and those henchmen have the nerve to demand higher wages! They don't even do their jobs properly and— wait, he was asleep, right?" Drakken begged, his eyes wide. "Please tell me that he was asleep."
Shego nodded. "Out cold, Doc. So I swiped the tape and gave him a lecture."
Drakken let out a heavy, relieved sigh. "I never thought I'd say this, but thank goodness for incompetent henchmen."
"I'll say," Shego agreed dryly, rolling her eyes. "That would've been kiiiinda awkward at the next bowling night."
There was a pause.
Drakken drew a shallow little breath and sent her an expectant look. "So, um...where's the tape?"
"I burned it," she told him matter-of-factly.
Drakken blinked. "Oh." He was surprised to realize that he actually felt vaguely...disappointed, hearing that.
Disappointment that Shego immediately picked up on; her eyebrow cocking. "What, you wanted to watch it or something?"
Drakken gaped. "What? No, of course not!"
"Kinky, Doc," she remarked, her mouth quirking as she tried not to smile. "Didn't know you were into that sort of thing."
Groaning, Drakken rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. "Look, can we just go to sleep now?"
She laughed. "Okay."
They stared at each other.
"So, which side do you wanna sleep on?" She asked, trying to break the sudden and somewhat uncomfortable silence.
He shrugged one shoulder, gesturing uncertainly towards the bed. "I don't know, I usually just sleep...you know, in the middle."
The middle. Figured. Single child and mad scientist bachelor. He'd probably never really had to share. "So anywhere is fine," she said; it was more of a statement than a question.
Again, he shrugged. "I guess."
"Right, so..." Clearing her throat softly, she removed her slippers and started to climb into bed.
He didn't follow, and when she hesitated, on her knees and about to lift the comforter to slip under it, she noticed him staring down at her and followed his gaze. When it ended on her chest, where a bit of cleavage was showing because she was leaning forward, she groaned and rolled her eyes. "Oh, for crying out loud, Dr. D," she scolded mildly, tugging her top up somewhat self-consciously, covering herself.
Drakken harrumphed loudly and looked away, his face feeling hot. It hadn't been as much the sight of her cleavage as it had been the sight of her cleavage as she was crawling into his bed that had fascinated him. The concept of Shego being in his bed was just...very strange.
He hadn't been oogling her chest. He'd been looking at all of her; his gaze had just happened to be...there, when she'd noticed him looking, that was all. Not that she'd accept that explanation; she was probably too used to men looking at her chest.
Finally feeling awkward just standing there, Drakken hurried under the comforter.
They laid there stiffly next to each other on their backs— not touching, just staring up at the ceiling— as if they were amnesiac abductees who'd been randomly dropped in a deserted field by aliens and didn't know what they were doing there.
Finally, Shego broke the silence, a small note of irritation in her voice when she spoke. "You forgot to turn off the light."
"Oh, uh...no, I've installed a...uh, clapper," Drakken replied, and sure enough, the lights went out when he reached up and clapped his hands twice.
Now, Shego's voice was full of incredulous mirth. "You have a clapper? Oh, that is so nineties!"
"So what?" He shot back, unable to come up with a better argument.
"That's just so—" She halted, and turned to him all of a sudden; probably to send him that skeptical look she loved to give him, forgetting he wouldn't be able to see it in the dark. "Oh, please don't tell me you're afraid of the dark!"
"Excuse me?" He sputtered.
"You're afraid of the dark, aren't you?" She taunted, poking his shoulder with a finger. "That's why you have a clapper, so you don't have to get out of bed to turn off the light!"
"Give me some credit here, Shego! I'm a grown man!" Drakken chided. Again, he was infinitely grateful he'd remembered to put away his teddy bear.
"Oh, really?"
"Have you even considered the fact that perhaps I use the clapper because I'd like to avoid accidentally stumbling into the moat in the dark?" Drakken asked witheringly, gritting his teeth.
"You've got a point there, Doc," Shego admitted in an upbeat tone that he knew well; it meant that she was only partly agreeing with him and was looking forward to sending another zinger his way. "And I guess I should expect somebody who actually thinks it's a good idea to put a moat full of dangerous chemical waste in their bedroom to also consider the clapper as, y'know, not a total waste of money."
"It's not dangerous chemical waste, it's just artificially colored water!" He explained, getting huffy. "It's part of the decor! I think it looks ominous, and it keeps the henchmen from trying to snoop around here, okay?"
"Oh, in that case I take back everything I said about your talent for wasting money," she drawled sarcastically.
He sighed. "Look, I just...I saw the clapper on TV late one night and thought it looked...cool, that's all."
"Good grief," Shego clucked her tongue. "Whenever I come across the Shopping Channel while zapping, I always wonder 'Who actually buys this stuff?', but now I guess I know. No wonder we never have any money."
"What's wrong with the clapper?" Drakken objected snippily. "It's convenient and useful!"
"You know..." She began, in mock wonder. "I never thought I'd ever be glad you squandered Kimmie's boyfriend's money, but now I realize the alternative coulda been so much worse. We coulda been up to our ears in useless Shopping Channel junk!" She chuckled.
"Nnngh...!"
Her laughter annoyed him, but at the same time, it seemed to unwind them both, and he sighed softly when she shifted to make herself more comfortable; she was obviously getting ready to sleep, and so should he. He'd been so exhausted, and he still was, he'd just forgotten about it because she'd distracted him.
Rolling around on his stomach and resting his cheek against the pillow, he felt himself slowly relax, but some of the nerves remained there, stiffening his frame, and he couldn't quite fall asleep.
Shego sighed, content, when she'd wiggled herself into a nice sleeping position. Dr. D really had a comfy bed; big, soft and with perfect pillows and a generous and heavy but not stifling comforter.
She paused at that thought.
Dr. Drakken Had A Comfy Bed.
And. She. Was. In. It.
Really.
With him.
Weird.
She'd certainly never mooned over the Doc— heck, she'd hardly mooned over anybody even back in high school— she'd never really...well, now that she thought about it, she wasn't even sure if she'd ever had a completely conscious thought about actually being attracted to him.
There had been some sorts of thoughts, though. There had been little flashes where she'd wondered...and she'd been vaguely aware of the fact that she'd started worrying about him lately, that she'd maybe been standing just a little closer than usual, maybe touched him more...
...but other than that, she hadn't known, not really. All of this had come as a punch to the face. Hard and fast and unexpected.
Now that she was lying there next to him, she could feel that his body was taut as a bowstring even if he was so exhausted— and she got it, she really did. She got what was the matter. She wasn't sure what exactly he was afraid she'd do or say, but she got it. Because this was all just so...unfamiliar.
Picking absentmindedly at the comforter, she tried to remember when she'd last...well, actually cuddled with a man.
And she came up blank.
That bronzed beach hunk four years ago? What's-his-face? Bobby? Billy? No, she'd gone back to her hotel room.
She went through a mental list— it wasn't long, as being an evil sidekick was a demanding job and had kept her very busy, but there was still a handful of guys— and...nothing.
The guy would usually fall asleep and she'd leave, or they'd both leave, or she'd leave even if he hadn't fallen asleep.
Nobody had ever invited her into their own bed in their own room, dressed in pajamas, and with no other intention than sleeping.
Biting her lip, she wondered if Drakken had ever done this with a woman before. She had no idea. He might have, she supposed, since he was so...well, Drakken. Kind of...personal and sensitive and needy and...yeah.
It must've been years ago, though, if ever.
There was an unsettling pang of...of something; loneliness, need, cold, something...in her chest, and she wasn't certain whether she was feeling it for him or for herself.
All she knew was that she got the urge to move closer, so she did, curling her body into his side. She felt him draw a quiet, quick breath and his body tightening with surprise before he relaxed again, letting out a little sigh. A strange sort of tingle went through her when he turned his head slowly and buried his nose in her hair, inhaling almost curiously.
"Smell good?" She teased, hoping to embarrass him a little to break her own embarrassment.
But he only nodded. "Mhmm."
When he slipped his arm around her so she could rest there and drew her closer, she started feeling just a little dizzy with the unaccustomed situation. She wasn't used to being treated like this or treating somebody like this. He was very sleepy, she could tell, yet he wasn't falling asleep, he was just sort of...exploring her carefully, as if in wonder; smelling her hair, touching her arms and hands, nuzzling her forehead. It was as if he was doing it all just because of the simple joy of being able to, and maybe it was also because he was just a little nervous that he wouldn't get the chance again.
And she found herself reciprocating, shifting against him lazily. Her face moving upwards and rubbing against his neck slowly, her fingers spreading on his solar plexus, she wondered if he could feel the way she seemed to be vibrating, almost trembling; what with, she didn't know, but she was treading unfamiliar waters and wasn't quite sure how to feel.
Suddenly, she needed to speak.
Her head felt fuzzy and detached, and she needed something solid, ordinary, something well-known.
"You know," she remarked idly, looking up into the dark, hazy shadows of the ceiling, "your bedside lamp is incredibly tacky."
Drakken groaned as he was pulled out of the pleasant reverie. He should've known she wasn't done mocking him for the evening. Mocking the interior design of his room was the one promise he should've known she'd keep.
"I'm asleep," he muttered, "I can't hear you."
"And your dresser has seen better days," she went on, sounding like she was having the time of her life as she played with his hair, running her finger in circles over the spot where she'd had to cut off some of his hair earlier that week. He very much doubted it was a coincidence. She was clearly baiting him. Even for all of her speeches about him needing to calm down, she was clearly baiting him.
"I can't heeeeaaaar yooooou..." He insisted in a sing-song voice, rolling over on his side and away from her.
This didn't seem to faze her at all. She simply scooted after him, hooking her chin over his shoulder and talking basically right into his ear. He shuddered; oh, great— mocking at close range, even.
"And this bed looks like you've bought it off the set from some kind of cheesy seventies Blaxploitation movie," she said with the kind of casual cheerfulness that she only derived from bugging the life out of him. "Did they throw in a free Foxy Brown poster when you got it?"
"Sheeegooo....!" Drakken moaned as he flopped over on his back again; he was definitely developing a headache.
"Does your stereo have any Barry White records?" She asked, leaning her head on his arm.
"Don't you ever stop?" He asked, sending her an exhausted, desperate look that she wouldn't be able to see in any case.
Shego went on as if he'd never even spoken; now she was fiddling with the panel of buttons on the wall behind his bed. "If I press this button, will a disco ball be lowered from the ceiling?"
"If I hit you over the head with the tacky lamp, will you pass out so I can sleep?" He retorted sharply, nearing the end of his rope. An alien, startling kind of thought flashed across his vexed mind; I'm going to screw her brains out in the morning for doing this to me...! Shocked, he risked a glance at her, almost as if afraid that she'd read his mind. She didn't seem upset, though; in fact, she was chuckling. He relaxed.
"Oooh, an actual comeback! And almost clever, too," she grinned, snuggling into the bend of his arm and actually kissing the tip of his ear with what seemed like fondness. "Mmm..."
She fell quiet then, and eventually, after about a couple of minutes, Drakken realized with a small amount of disbelief that it was because she had in fact fallen asleep. Huh. That seemed to be that. Whatever it was that she'd been after, it seemed like she'd found it.
He smiled at her sleeping face, leaning down to kiss her cheek. She snorted softly at that, wrinkling her nose, but soon her face went slack with sleep again.
Of course, as he was about to doze off himself, it dawned on him that the weight of her head was cutting off the blood flow to his arm and that, come morning, it would be completely numb.
He would bet no other villains had this problem with their sidekicks.
...then again, he realized, he didn't know any other villains who actually had any sidekicks.
He grinned smugly to himself, affectionately tightening his hold on Shego and leaning his cheek against her hair as he slowly slipped into slumber.
Those idiots. They had no idea what they were missing by being so reclusive.
And that included the mocking.
The next morning, they were rudely awoken by the loud jangling of the telephone. Drakken fumbled for the lamp on his nightstand and turned it on, but the phone was on Shego's side of the bed, so he was forced to nudge her to get her to pick it up.
Shego sat bolt upright in bed, looking disoriented before she sent the offending object a death glare, throwing herself across the bed to pick up the phone so the horrible noise would cease.
"Yeah, whaddaya want?" She greeted crankily.
"Good morning, Dr. Drakken. I'm calling on behalf of Nelson's Auto Repair, and we would like to talk to you about our fabulous new deals on oil changes and—"
"I'm sorry," Shego said sweetly, "but Dr. Drakken can't come to the phone right now. He's suffering from a severe telemarketing-induced migraine. Would you like to leave a message?"
Even Drakken could hear the telemarketer sputtering in surprise on the other side of the line before Shego slammed the receiver down again, falling onto her back heavily on the bed and drawing the comforter all the way up over her eyes, groaning. "That damn...pestering people in their own homes...and in the morning!" He heard her grumbling under the comforter. Eventually, she fell quiet, and he heard a soft, content sigh.
Blinking at the black mass of tangled hair sticking up from the top of his comforter, spilling all over his pillow, he scooted closer to her, carefully dragging the comforter down to her chin so he could see her face. She made a bothered whine and popped one eye open, peering at him.
"Hmm?"
He looked down at her in awe. So this was what it was like to actually have Shego on his side, for once— not just on the same side of good and evil. Oh, how good it felt to have somebody backing him up so he wouldn't have to deal with every little nuisance himself, every single day! Of course, she'd always been his sidekick, and as such, had done a lot of work for him over the years, without which he'd certainly have had an even harder time of it, but now...this felt a little different.
Yesterday, she'd been concerned for his health, and now she'd just fended off a nasty telemarketer for him; the wording she'd used to get rid of the caller had told him again that she cared about his wellbeing. He knew he'd often not been very appreciative of her, but it had taken him a while before he'd noticed it, and the fact that it sometimes left her cranky. For all of her mocking, he knew he had a good sidekick. Perhaps if he started appreciating her now...
"Shego, I want you to answer all my calls from now on," he announced.
She cracked a tired grin. "That's adding to my areas of expertise. I'll need a raise."
"You'll have one," he said firmly.
"Oh, yeah?" The grin tugged a bit more at her mouth. "So you're really gonna pay me money to yell at telemarketers?"
He nodded. "Basically, yes."
Evil anticipation saturated her voice. "Sounds like my kinda job."
He laughed softly.
"...Dr. D?"
"Hmm?"
"When was the last time you had sex?" Shego asked, suddenly sounding serious. "Before, I mean."
The smile dropped from his face. "That's a very personal question, Shego."
"We're in your bed together," she ventured in a low voice, then added, a bit more cheekily: "How much more personal can we get without getting naked again?"
He pursed his lips, frowning. "I don't see why I should tell you."
Shego sent him a lazy smile. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours..."
His face flushed violently, his eyes snapping open. "Shego! I don't want to know that!" He squeaked.
"Jealous?" She purred, running a finger down his jaw line.
"No! I just— no!" Drakken protested loudly, growing nervous. "I don't want to know when or who you've— wait, it's not anybody I know, is it? Uh, I mean— no! I don't want to know!"
"Come on, Doc, you can tell me..." She wheedled.
He scoffed. "Oh, please— what, just so you can mock me some more?"
Her voice took on a wholly amused note. "Oh, that long, huh?"
He gritted his teeth, trying to endure. "Shego..."
"We're talking years here, aren't we?" She asked, and he could practically feel her smirking.
He gave a heavy sigh. "Far too long, okay?"
"Was it before or after 'U Can't Touch This' came out?" Shego asked innocently.
"I'll have you know it was after Hammer time, thank you very much!" Drakken sniped back.
"Oh, yeah?" Shego chuckled. "Before or after the Macarena?"
"Nnngghh!"
"Aww, come on, Doc," she gave a fake pout, tugging at his sleeve. "Just having a little fun."
"At my expense, as usual," he grumbled.
Her demeanour flickered back to seriousness, then, and she made a contemplative sound in her throat before she moved a little closer to him. "Just...don't go that long again without at least taking a vacation, okay, Doc?" She scolded. "Our job is stressful enough already, and I so don't need you making it worse."
He frowned, puzzled; her words were stern, but her fingers were tangling in his hair and tracing little patterns on his scalp and— ooh, that felt nice...
"I can't just take vacations left and right like you," he pointed out, attempting to make his voice match her sternness, but it came out more like a content sigh. "There's a lot to deal with here."
"I know, but...Doc, ask yourself...what would be worse?" She hypothesized pointedly as her fingers skated lazily across his head. "Being a little behind on one of your insane schemes or stressing out completely again?"
"I'm just...naturally energetic, Shego," Drakken objected, trying to sound reasonable. "Nothing I can do."
Her fingers halted and withdrew from his head. "That wasn't 'naturally energetic'. That was the Energizer bunny times ten crossbred with a pack of starving hyenas."
"Shego!" He grunted, offended. "Could it be possible that you're a major stress factor for me?"
"Oh, really?" She teased, poking the tip of his nose with a finger. "I seem to remember you looking pretty relaxed a few hours ago."
"Maybe because you were using your lippy mouth for other things than being insolent," he muttered sourly.
Shego laughed. "Oh-hoh! Well, would you look at that. Another comeback. I better watch myself, huh?"
"Oh, for...nnnhh...just...let me sleep now, okay?" Drakken made an annoyed rumble in his throat, leaning over to turn off the lamp again.
"Okay, ya big baby," she sighed.
"Please!" He snapped.
This only caused her to poke both his cheeks with her index fingers and twist, as if making grooves for dimples. "You're so cute when you beg," she mocked.
"Nnghnnn..."
Shego leaned over him, briefly bumping her nose against his neck before she managed to find his mouth in the dark and kissed it softly, then his cheek. "Sleep now, Doc. Nighty night."
Darn. Now he couldn't be mad at her anymore. "Night, Shego..."
Silence.
Just as Shego was about to start falling asleep again, a nagging thought wriggled itself into her unfortunately still conscious mind, and her eyes fluttered open. Frowning, she bit her lip as she mulled it over, and suddenly, she'd decided to express that thought even before she was quite sure what she wanted to say or if she wanted to say it at all.
"...Dr. D?"
There was a soft groan. "What now?"
Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea, her brain chanted, but the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. "You know, if you're ever stressed out again...you could..."
He frowned; starting to pay attention in earnest. She didn't sound like she was getting ready for round three of her mocking. In fact, she sounded...serious. "Shego...?"
Too fast, don't even know if I want— this is stupid, he's such a dork— shut up, don't say it— but still, it was as if her brain was unable to override her mouth: "But I mean, you don't have to be stressed out, you could just...want...um..."
Drakken's chest swelled with surprised affection, and he swallowed hard. "Shego..." Carefully, he rolled over on his side and reached out for her with hesitation, fingertips barely brushing her arm. "I wouldn't even have to be...I mean, I could just...if you want to, I would want...all the time. No, not all the time, not like I'm some sort of— uhm, I mean, sometimes. If you want. Because I...I liked it."
He wasn't used to talking to women like this, she could tell— she knew, really— and he was speaking in a kind of aimless, unsure ramble, as if he was trying to figure out what to say even as he was saying it.
It was fumbling and so not suave, but at the core of it was a kind of emotional honesty that was sort of...well, brave, in a way.
Brave, and intimidating.
"Yeah, it was...uh, pretty good," she said weakly.
"So, you know, just...you do want to...do that again?" He hazarded.
Suddenly, she felt inexplicably giddy. "Oh, we have to. It's our duty."
"D-duty?" Drakken stammered, his mind suddenly racing with scary possibilities, such as Shego being part of some sort of dodgy cult breeding program.
"I mean, this bed was made for that sort of stuff, and I bet you've never even taken it for a test drive. It's sacrilegious. Just look at all this room."
"Very funny."
She rolled over, latching on to his arm and leaning her head there, grinning. "I bet you won't think it's funny when I start coming up with all sorts of interesting ways to exploit this generous space."
He pursed his lips, getting fed up with her teasing remarks. "Shego, when you lie on my arm like that, you stem the blood flow and my arm goes numb."
He'd expected her to refuse to move, or maybe even mock him...but all she did was roll over on her stomach with a soft sigh, burrowing her head in the pillow. "I need some more sleep anyway if we're actually supposed to work today," she mumbled. "Now that's a joke..."
He blinked at her, realizing she hadn't forgotten her promise. Smiling, he leaned down and kissed her hair before he collapsed back into the pillows, his brain and body finally demanding sleep again.
TBC.
Author's note: Zoidberg threw up twice. Give him another bucket.
Please don't leave me reviews saying 'Oh, I thought the story was done already' this time, okay? I know I haven't updated in forever, but I never wrote 'The End' or marked it as complete. So remember this for future reference: Unless a Ninnik Nishukan KP story has been marked as 'COMPLETE', it's most likely NOT complete. Got that? Okay, good. XD
I've had a bunch of half-written chapters lying around since about this time last year, and I've been very uncertain about whether I should continue this story or not for a whole year now, but as long as nobody expects very frequent updates— which probably nobody will, anyway, considering my track record— I'll be more than happy to continue. I have to start studying again now, and I still have a full-time job, so...yeah. Thank you for understanding. D:
A lot of thanks go out to my faithful beta, Charlotte C. She beta read this chapter not only once, but twice. Once last year when I first considered continuing the story, and again this week, after I'd rewritten it and had finally decided to go ahead and publish it after all. Thank you for your patience, and thank you for reminding me of the moat. ^__^
'U Can't Touch This': 1990. Music hits me so hard, makes me go OH MY GAH!
Macarena: 1995. Lalalablablabla— HEY, MACARENA! I'm willing to bet that in 2007 it was a decade, give or take a year or two, since Dr. D had last done the dirty dingo. Let's be nice and say it was closer to the end of the last millennium than the Macarena, though. XD
It was Teh Yeti AKA Andy who first suggested on the RS Net board's Villains section, in 2007, how suspiciously pimped out Drakken's bedroom looked. And it really does. How could I possibly have named this chapter anything other than Big, Red, Round Bed? :D