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The Aftermath

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            Drakken’s eyes widened.  Since when did Shego call him… call him “Andrew”?

            “Shego?” he called to her.  No answer.

            “Shego?”  Still nothing.

            Great, he thought to himself.  Oh, he knew better than to wake her up to discuss it all.  He knew that she was just avoiding a conversation that he so desperately needed—no, scratch that—that he so desperately wanted to have with her.  But… she was tired, and she did just go through all that trouble to save him—him, of all people. 

            One of the people that she probably despised most in the world—he kept her back, he kept her from living up to her full evil potential, and now… now this fit he had where he had to go and save the world probably just ruined any chances she had of becoming any figure of importance whenever he or one of the other villains finally did take over the world.

            But could he actually take over the world after that hell of a day they just had?  It had been exhausting.  (The Diablo plan had been exhausting, he reminded himself.)  And he just wasn’t sure he had it in him for a third go. 

            He—“go”.  “Sh—” he started, hoping to get her opinion of his pun.  Granted… she always hated them (well, his jokes in general), but… but her eye rolls were becoming less… less malicious and more… more, well, tolerant?  More… affectionate? Or was he just… hoping too much?

            Oh, who was he kidding?  Shego would never go for a man like him!  The woman went on vacations to Greece and drank whiskey neat.  She was known for having a string of lovers even before she started working for him—lovers who were far above any league he could even ever hope to be in.  Meanwhile, he… he hadn’t been… he hadn’t ever been…

            Drakken shook his head rapidly.  It wouldn’t do to go on pitying himself.  He was a homebody—a mad scientist first, but a homebody second.  He… he drank cocoa moo and made cupcakes.  Shego didn’t do that.  Shego was neon lights and that black lipstick of hers and that perfume that gave the illusion that she was a countess from bygone days, and he… well, he was motor oil and chocolate and he counted it to be a good day if he didn’t smell like a car shop after a day’s work.

            No, what would she want with him?

            ...Well, it was late, and she was sleeping.  He didn’t have to cross that bridge now, he supposed.

            He looked at her sleeping form and gently tapped her shoulder to see whether she would respond.  Nada.

            So, Drakken took a risk, and prayed to God that if she were awake that she wouldn’t blast him to smithereens. 

            He quickly gave her forehead a kiss before turning over on his air mattress with his back to her to be alone with his thoughts, feeling his face heat up like a teenager’s whilst doing so.

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            When had it come to this? Drakken thought as he lay in the night.  He could hear Shego breathing next to him, and the fact that she was right there and he couldn’t even hold her was killing him.

            What had he been thinking when he was on the Lorwardians’ space ship?  Had he really thought that she just… wasn’t going to come and get him?

            He lay there for a few minutes, trying not to think for once, but just… feel.  Wasn’t that one of the things that Shego was always telling him?  To stop over-thinking things?

            Well, he couldn’t help it if old habits die hard.  When was he not thinking?  Usually, he used this time in the night to dream up new plans—think of new ways to conquer the world, defeat Kim Possible, the whole she-bang.

            But now… Now all that he could think about was Shego.

            Shego

            Drakken groaned as he slapped both of his gloved hands on his face and dragged them down.  (He also tried not to think about how much Shego would have a field day if she saw how he was pulling on the skin under his eyes.  Something about “taking care of yourself for once, Dr. D.”  Or something.)

            So, yes, when had it come to this?  When had he started treating her like… like his partner, in every sense of the term?

            Because that’s what it all had come down to, wasn’t it?  He was afraid that after all that they had endured together that she still saw him as her boss (an unorthodox one, he supposed, but then, yet again, they were in an unorthodox field, regardless of what modern business schools were telling their students). 

            Drakken sighed deeply as he realized what he had been thinking on the Lorwardians’ space ship: he hadn’t been afraid that she wouldn’t come and get him.  He knew that she would—against his better judgment, he trusted the woman with his life.  No, he had been afraid that he would have never had the chance to see her again.  He had been afraid that that green giantess would have killed him or probed him or… or done something to him before Shego arrived.

            And then she came, and his fool heart just ran for her like she was his lifeline—

            He must have really been delusional, to think that she was running for him, too. 

            Drakken sighed again and rested his arm against his forehead.  Shego would say that he was being melodramatic, but he didn’t care.  He had a right to!  He had just saved the world!  He finally had his clear cut victory!  And... and now he didn’t know what the future was going to hold for him.

            He knew—he just knew that Kim Possible would try to do something good and reward him (or some garbage like that) for saving said world.  But how to respond?  He supposed he should run it by Shego, but she would say (and he could hear it in her voice, too) “Fuck it, Dr. D.  Princess and Monkey Boy give you enough shit to deal with.  Fuck it.  Fuck it and them.”

            He chuckled quietly to himself in the silence of the night, worried that he might awaken Shego from her desperately needed slumber (but also knowing somewhere deep down that if he hadn’t woke her up with that peck on the forehead—what was he thinking?!—then his voice probably wouldn’t wake her either).

            But what about him?  Why couldn’t he sleep?  God knew that he was exhausted.  Was he just that worked up over Shego?  About his life?  His future?

            Drakken turned over on his side (the side not facing Shego), and closed his eyes, deciding that he didn’t want to do decide on anything until he talked to Shego. 

            She was, after all, the woman he loved, regardless of whether he would ever have the guts to tell her so.

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            The sunrise didn’t come soon enough for Drakken.  He hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before, fluctuating between over-thinking, well, everything, and keeping an empty mind lest he panic.

            It hadn’t helped that the lair was sweltering to the point where it was too uncomfortable to sleep, and he had been too exhausted (ironically enough) to get up and look for lighter clothes to wear. 

            So when the sun came peeking through the window at 5:30, all he could do was groan with the knowledge that Shego would yell at him for not sleeping again.

            Could he help it if he had an overactive brain?

            He lay there for a little while, whilst mustering up the energy to begin the day, not even having a semblance for once of what it would bring.  Drakken supposed getting kidnapped by aliens and having your modus operandi forcibly changed for you would do that to a man.

            Oh, gosh darn it!  Why couldn’t he have been born a hero?!  That would have made his life so much easier in that moment!  His victory then could be celebrated across the world, and not relegated to the shadows as he was certain it would be—the villain who only cared when he needed to save his own blue skin.

            But he supposed then he would never have met Shego, or if he had it would have been as enemies, not as allies, or associates, or whatever-the-hell they were at the moment.

            He sighed as he realized that he would accept whatever graces or rewards that fate would throw his way.  He deserved them.  (Yes, he did deserve them, dammit!  He just saved the world!)  It was just Shego’s reaction to it all that worried him.

            For now, though… should he just… pretend it didn’t happen?

            Yes, Drakken thought, pretend it didn’t happen!  Normal day!  Good plan.

            It was with this final resolution to just ignore his problems for the time being that led him to make his way to the kitchen, a skip in his step with the light feeling of forced, blissful simplicity, and pull out the coffee grinder to make a pot of coffee for them.

            At 5:45 in the morning.

            Drakken hummed an old Oh Boyz song as he put on the coffee after the grinder came to a stop, only to turn and see a very disgruntled Shego standing in the doorway (or, you know, the open space where a door would be).

            And, dear God, she did not look happy.

            “Do you have any idea what time it is?!” she shouted at him.  “Do you have any idea how exhausted I am?!  Get your blue ass in gear and let me sleep, damn it!”

            Drakken stared at her with open mouth (he was certain that he looked like a fish), before he decided that he had had enough of her yelling.

            Except, he didn’t really have it in him to be yelling either.  Not after the literal hell that was his thought process the last night.

            He finally decided on playful banter.  That was what they did, right?  The bickering and the teasing and the fights… it was all just… banter, deep down, right?  Or was that just him?

            Drakken shook his head furiously.  He couldn’t think about that.  He couldn’t think about what they were.  He was too close to having a breakdown and just… taking her in his arms and holding her forever. 

            She would kill him if he even tried that.  He invades her personal space, and it’s all “Oh, you’re harassing me!”  She invades his space, and it’s a free-for-all!

            Well, not anymore!  He might still be her boss (as loathe as he was to admit it—he wanted more, okay?!), but she was the one mistreating him!  He deserved better!

            Just then, he heard the coffee begin to pour in the pot and turned his attention to the brown liquid offering itself up to him for consumption.  (God, where do some of these thoughts come from? he asked himself as he bent down to smell the aroma.)

            Hence, he wasn’t really paying attention to anything other than his several deluded trains of thought.  “You seem to be focusing a lot on my blue ass in the last few days, Shego.”

            That was most certainly not what he had been intending to say.

            Needless to say, he froze when he realized what had come out of his mouth, and he winced when he heard Shego took a step towards him.

            But the fire never came.

            The floor, however, rushed to meet his “blue ass” very, very quickly, and Drakken was left staring up at a Shego with a steaming pot of coffee in her hands.

            “Drakken!” she screamed.  The coffee came towards his face and he yelped as he quickly rolled to the side, the liquid seeping through the twig floor next to him.

            “Shego, what are you doing?!” he screamed in turn.  “You could have burned me!”

            “No shit, Dr. Dumblock!”

            He scrambled to get his footing before she threw something else at him, or worse, kicked him while he was down (literally) for pulling that stunt.  What was he thinking, saying that to her?!

            “What do you want from me?” was what he managed to get out instead as he leaned against the counter behind him.  (The other counter, he reminded himself—he had perched the coffee machine in a very precarious place next to the hole he made in the one Shego now stood in front of.  God, he really had been out of it.)

            “Oh, I don’t know, Dr. D.,” she said in a sweetly sarcastic voice, the empty coffee pot still in her hand.  “To not fuck up and just treat me like an equal?!”  The coffee pot was thrown, and, as Drakken ducked, the cabinets behind him were broken, much like the counter across the room.

            Well, at least now the décor matched, he supposed.

            “Equal?  Equal?!” he shouted back from his position on the floor.  She had the upper hand, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t angry.

            Oh, he might have been in love with that woman, but she was also being a meanie!  (Or maybe he was simply a masochist.  He had never really had time to discover all that, what with trying to conquer the world and all.)

            “Yes, equal!  You have been treating me like your subordinate for too long!”

            Drakken stood up at this.  “Subordinate?!  Need I remind you, Shego, who signs your paychecks?!  You are my subordinate!” 

            Also something that he had not intended to say to the woman he was in love with.

            “Oh, that’s right,” Shego drawled.  “I’ve been promoted!  Promoted to whatSlave?”

            “Wh—?” Drakken started.  Just what was she going on about?  “S-slave?!  When have I ever treated you like that?  Hell, when have you ever done what I asked?  What I pay you to do?!”

            Shego gaped at him.  That was never a good sign, he mentally said to himself.  “I’ve fought Kimmie for you!  I’ve helped you with your harebrain schemes!  I’ve saved your ass thousands of times!  I’ve stolen doomsday devices for you!  Robbed banks for you!  Lied to your intrusive mother for you!  I even drove away those crazy aliens for you, and brought your ass back from space when the world went to hell!  And you have the audacity to say that I don’t do what you ask?!  That I’m just a ‘subordinate’?!  You’re never grateful!  You never show appreciation!  You couldn’t even fucking hug me!”

            And with that, the coffee machine also made its way across the room.