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split-n-splice · 4 years

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This chapter picks up the scene where Ch25 Welfare Check left off. Ya, it's a short one, ya, it's fluffy (I think so anyway), but it leads into things. Not exactly romantic things, but we'll get there. There’s a reference to Bad is Good and Good is Bad (a precursor to this fic) in this chapter, so maybe check that out if you haven’t yet.

Ao3 | FFn | Chapter Art!

[Chapter Guide]

27. Aura of Others – 1

Drakken smirked back at her for a moment, until she wiped her own smile off her face. His gaze hardened to somber stone then and turned down to the cutting board, and Shego had to wonder inwardly if he was imagining it was his competition’s fingers he was slicing through, given the newfound vigor with which he was chopping.

“We leave Friday,” he said decisively. “ASAP.”

Normally she’d be inclined to pluck a slice of pepper from the board and pop off something like, “What’s the rush?” but instead she crossed her arms and bit her lip to stifle a groan. “Mmm, no can do,” she regrettably informed. “Can it wait until Saturday?”

Drakken’s brow creased. “Why? Have a convenience store to rob, do you?” he shot.

She reached for the little paper in her pocket but stopped herself. Her hands were just beginning to spark – her nervous tell. She hid them under the countertop as she reigned it in. “No,” she snorted. “I have a date.” Though maybe angel boy wasn’t so innocent after all. Maybe he’d be down for a little burglary.

The sound of the knife chop-chop-chopping through veggies paused. From the corner of her eye, she could see him staring. Her stomach lurched – she didn’t want to look directly at him – but she shot a frown his way. “You have a problem with that, Doc?” she snipped after a moment.

His eyes snapped back down. “No. Not at all,” he said brusquely and spun around with the cutting board to focus on the stove instead. He flapped a dismissive hand. “Go hog wild. As long as it doesn’t interfere with what I have cooking.”

She watched his back as he worked, grabbing the olive oil and spices from the cabinet to throw in a pan, moving awkwardly as if determined to keep his back to her. She got the sense she wouldn’t be the only one keen on a change of subject. “What are you cooking?” she lazily wondered. She meant to stay perched on the barstool. She didn’t mean to hop off and open up the fridge beside him or steal a glance at the pan.

He shrugged, eyes flickering as he threw a sidelong peek her way. “Fajitas. Do you like fajitas?”

“Better than fish tacos,” she mumbled under her breath.

Shego reached for a can of root beer but caught herself eyeing an elaborately marbled dessert sitting on the shelf below, protected by a sparkling glass lid. He either had a knack for it or he’d been working on his presentation, she mused to herself. She caught a distinct whiff of pumpkin. No wonder it smelled so sweet in the lair. Unbefitting for a villain as it was, her partner was unabashed as ever about his sweet tooth.

“Enough for a guest?” she piped wryly, ignoring the twist in her gut as she leaned back on the fridge to watch the rogue doctor’s frown give way to a strained smirk. For the moment, she focused on the relief that her family had left – which meant she could stick around for dessert.

With something other than value-menu Chow in her stomach, plus an artfully-plated slice of sinfully decadent cheesecake to top it off, she was happier still to sink down in the soft corduroy cushions of Drakken’s couch that evening, hugging a throw pillow under her cheek. She was even content enough to sigh and say nothing in objection when the goober of a man eagerly tuned in to a Space Passage film on television.

The movie was tough to focus on. Shego barely followed, though her droopy fatigued stare straying off toward Drakken time and time again that may have been to blame. He sat slumped in his recliner nearby, absorbed in the franchise sci-fi flick and oblivious to her eyes continuously straying from the hunky Commander Cain. Eventually she tore her eyes away and shut them, nuzzling into the throw pillow and trying not to consider how much it smelled like him, staving off the smirk when the very idea infected her brain.

The room was mostly dark by the time her eyes opened again. The television was off, and only the lamp on the end table was left on to dimly light the den. There was a hand gripping her shoulder, and she turned her bleary eyes up at the dark shape of Drakken kneeling next to her. He smelled of booze again. He really shouldn’t have been leaning close enough she could smell it on his breath, but there he was, ballsy as ever when he’d had a bit to drink.

He swayed unsteadily before plopping over to sit on the floor, and just about melted against the edge of the couch. Shego scooted back a little bit as he rested his cheek on the cushion, his sickly-dark eyelids falling shut. “Why don’t you ever sleep in your own bed?” he grumbled to the corduroy.

She shifted, propping up on an elbow and rubbing her eyes to distract herself from how close his face had been. “Because I hate the springs,” she fibbed, and stifled a yawn. She didn’t want to admit that the mattress was one more bad night away from being completely unusable, if that. She slept better on the couch anyway.

The boozy man heaved a long sigh and hefted himself to sit in an almost upright position. She might be inclined to lecture him if the drinking habit kept up. “I suppose you want a ride home now, hm?”

“You couldn’t ask before you started drinking?” she groused. She bit back further chiding for now, giving a grimace and shake of her head. Even if he was in a state to drive, she wouldn’t want to go. She wasn’t ready to be tempted so soon by an addictive sleep aid, one of the scarce few things that promised relief. Too bad it came with side effects. Sinking back down into the pillow, she grumbled, “Go to bed, Doc.”

Drakken grunted as he stood up on wobbly legs. “Yes, ma’am.” He spun toward her as he backed away, kicking the coffee table and nearly falling as he went, and Shego wondered if he even knew what he was saying as he gave an awkward bow and made an even more awkward offer. “Well, if you care to join – i-it’s fit for a king – I mean, um – there’s room. ‘Night!”

She stared as he quickly retreated, shuffling and tripping his way out of the room. She didn’t hear his door click shut, and she stared for an extra moment as she deciphered the invitation before her face flushed pink.

The whole point of crashing at the lair tonight was to escape the temptation of popping another special little pill. And the whole reason for the temptation in the first place was a lack of control over an accursed otherworldly gift she was still battling to tame.

So it didn’t make a lot of sense to sit up, kicking away the fleece throw blanket that had been courteously draped over her. Her eyes remained on the door tucked away in the niche, and she gripped her knees tight enough her nails dug through the denim. She drew a deep breath. She wasn’t warm. He didn’t make her warm. She inwardly repeated it like a mantra, even as she tugged the collar of her blouse, blowing down it in a futile effort to cool herself.

It didn’t make sense when she stood either, and it made less sense to gravitate toward that door when she really should have been turning around and heading out the other to go home, or to her own room, or something.

It was cracked – she’d expected that – but she didn’t expect herself to raise her knuckles to rap lightly and push it open. Curiosity reeled her in, hook, line, and sinker.

Like the den, Drakken’s bedroom was dark, save for a reading lamp perched on the shelf built into the headboard of the oversized bed, casting a warm yellow glow. She’d stolen a peek once before when the lights were on, weeks ago, and silky scarlet bedding indeed fit for a king had been alarming then, but the bedspread had since been replaced with something more suitable to the new season. She could barely see his shape beneath the puffy blue comforter, and she couldn’t help musing how small and lonely he looked in the huge bed. Fidgeting anxiously with the beads around her wrist, her feet carried her forward before she could think twice.

The spring water stream cutting through the room was like a clear line warning her not to come any closer. Shego paused at the edge as a distant sense of déjà vu echoed at the back of her mind, and she couldn’t help reaching for her throat.

There’d been a warning line before, years ago. He’d crossed it with zero regard, though it had been clearly painted across the floor of her chamber at the research facility, marking how close was too close to the volatile subject she’d been reduced to. Maybe she should have taken the trench as a similar warning.

She crossed it anyway.

But not before clipping off the stupid bracelet and stuffing in the pocket of her jeans. It hadn’t felt so much like jagged rocks digging to her wrist until now. It didn’t even feel right in her pocket, and she had half a mind to discard it in the flow of murky water.

Heat rose around her collar again, but each step closer had yet to feel like an outright mistake as she circled cautiously around to a vast open side of the bed.

Drakken lay bundled on his side, something fuzzy and brown tucked under his chin as he scratched away lazily in his little leather notebook. He licked a finger and flipped a page to start on another before Shego cleared her throat softly, and his heavy-lidded eyes cut up to her through the skewed glasses. The book snapped shut and was quickly tucked under his pillow, one of several heaped on his bed, all bearing miss-matched pillowcases in shades of blue or red or grey.

Shego took half a step back when he jerked upright, catching his spectacles before they could fall off his face. He fixed the glasses on his nose, jaw unhinged, and she tried not to stare back. The once-over he gave her didn’t help the rising warmth she had to steel herself against with a deep breath.

His mouth moved, and she didn’t catch what came out, but she was sure it was confused gibberish anyway.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously on him. The open space was inviting, offering ample room to toss and sprawl. “Do you promise not to touch me?” she asked carefully. It shouldn’t be hard to keep to the edge. The size of the bed was absurd really, at least for someone so solitary.

She shouldn’t be considering.

Drakken both shook his head and nodded, and looked rather confused himself in that moment. He all but tore off his glasses then, folding them up and discarding them to the shelf, as if to willingly blind himself so he wouldn’t have to look her in the eye. “Ah…yes?” he practically croaked.

“Pinky swear?”

Without question, he raised a hand and stuck out his pinky, but retracted it and pursed his lips with a hum. “That would be touching you,” he said absolutely, sounding a little too straight-laced and polite for a guy wearing an old rock-n-roll shirt to bed.

“Good catch.” A smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. Shego fidgeted, but the buttons of her blouse shouldn’t have been what she fidgeted with. “I’ll kick your ass if you do,” she added without the conviction to back up the threat, and bit her lip as she hoped he wouldn’t prove crossing the line to be a mistake. She hoped he was as blind as she suspected he was, but even if he wasn’t, she might not mind the gawping as long as he kept his end of the deal.

She didn’t know what she was thinking, because the sake of comfort couldn’t be the sole reason for shedding her layers. She was warm, sure, but she could ignore the fact as she smirked impishly at the alarmed stare snapping down to her waist as her fingers popped off the last button in question. She almost laughed when stark uncertainty dawned on the tipsy man and he bit down hard on his lip, completely frozen and holding his breath. No sooner had Shego stripped down to her camisole did he throw himself back down, back to her before he could witness her stepping out of her jeans as well.

She couldn’t say she was all that let down he’d lost the brazenness that seemed to come hand-in-hand with alcohol lately. She wasn’t terribly offended by the cold shoulder either. If anything, it came as a comfort, as she could breathe easier when she wasn’t being watched. She was pushing her luck already, and she didn’t need to cross anymore lines tonight. She’d gone far enough. If she could just withstand this without the drug, then she could withstand Friday night.

A deep breath to calm her nerves once more, and Shego slipped into the soft cushy bed and under the heavy cover. She tried not to think back on the unwelcome wakeup call she’d had the last time she’d nodded off somewhere she shouldn’t have. Staring at Drakken’s back well out of reach, she relaxed, convinced he wouldn’t prove this to be a mistake after all.

The inferno of alien fire raging to be let out died down and she felt a few degrees cooler as she unwound with remarkable ease. Maybe she was being just a little too trusting, but she’d grown foolishly comfortable with this scientist over the past several weeks. She was banking on the rising villain to stay trustworthy.

Every blink stung, but rather than shutting them for good, her tired eyes strayed from Drakken’s back to the brown thing that had been discarded, forgotten on the sheets between them. She raised her brow but decided not to mention it until his own measured breathing had relaxed. By then, she couldn’t hold a small laugh back any longer. “You sleep with a teddy bear?”

By the level of irritation in the man’s harrumph, he’d nearly been asleep. She caught a glimpse of his purple face as he patted around behind himself for it, grumbling unhappily, “It was my dog’s.”

The room felt cold suddenly, which might have been a welcomed sensation if she were at home battling the resolve not to pop a pill. The thought of Drakken all alone in the great big bed crossed her mind again, and she tried to imagine him in the lab with a dog around to remind him to take a break for fresh air and a walk. She kept her mouth shut about the little memento, muttering instead, “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

“Yes, well, there are a lot of things about me you don’t know.”

“But I could know them,” she whispered over, watching his shoulders tense. She wriggled a bit to get comfortable, and maybe a couple inches closer. “What kind of dog?”

Drakken deflated with a long weary sigh. “He’s…was a beagle.”

She decided not to press it further. Now was the time for sleep, not for idly chitchatting like middle-schoolers at a sleepover. She was ready to shut her eyes, but suddenly Drakken shifted and her heavy lids snapped back open as he reached for the lamp. “Leave it on,” she blurted.

“Why?”

“Because – um.” She zipped her lips. Because she didn’t want to be sitting in the dark, with pinpricks of her nerves standing out like stars in the night. But wasn’t that why she was lying here anyway? To challenge her nature? She didn’t need him accusing her of being afraid of the dark. That would only worsen her condition and get her wound up again. “Nevermind. Whatever. Hit it.”

And the room went dark, save for the red glow of the digital alarm clock on the shelf.

As her eyes adjusted, she heard the shuffle and felt the slight shift across from her, still safely out of reach. He’d turned to face her now, the faint glint of light shining off his lenses indicating he’d donned his spectacles again. Nerves fluttered back to fan the alien fire at the thought that maybe he only needed the dark to get gutsy again. His pensive hum didn’t help. She was ready to snap at him to take a picture, it would last longer.

“You’ve got freckles?”

“What—”

“Like radium,” said Drakken between yawns. “Radium freckles.” No doubt about it, he was looking at her.

She wanted to roll over and bundle up so he couldn’t see any of her skin whatsoever, but she couldn’t even tuck a stray arm under the cover, momentarily frozen. She didn’t need to glance at herself to know the little pinpricks of plasma were firing off. Even her breath felt hotter now, the more she tried to restrain it. She shifted, hugging herself and rubbing a bare arm as if she could rub away the pinpoints of plasma looking for an exit. She wished for a fleeting second that she had the damn bottle of pills handy after all.

“Doesn’t it freak you out?” she wondered a little too crossly.

“Nah,” Drakken grunted. “It’s rather pretty. Dangerous things tend to be.”

Her brow furrowed. It was reassuring, and comforting, and it made her warm in the worst way – but it was midnight. It was time to shut up. So she grabbed one of the many pillows piled up and threw it in the general vicinity of his head. “Go to sleep, Doc.”

#The Company You Keep fic #drakgo #Drakken #Shego #Kim Possible #(Kim isn't in this chapter but whatever)

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