#gogofordrakgo

[legendary-guest]

There are a lot of ideas out there as to what Dr. Drakken and Shego get-up to post-Graduation. From remaining in traditional villainy, turning good, laying low and going corporate to a life of domestic bliss.

Well, what about... Dr. Drakken becoming a teen pop sensation? Becoming hero of the world has reinvigorated public interest in his hip-hop debut on American Starmaker. It becomes a huge hit! Ridiculous views on the Internet, the song is being played on the radio, in malls, it's everywhere! A record label reaches out to him - they want an album. He's the biggest thing since the Oh Boyz. Pardon from the UN, a medal, acknowledgement of his genius and now his artistic prowess is being recognised, too?! He's a real Renaissance man (he pronounces the 'c' as a 'k')! Like, what's-his-name - Leonardo Decaprio! How can he say no, Shego? Like everything he does, this is not without consequence. The song's popularity serves as Junior's villainous breakdown - he is seething with jealousy, with fury. Shego's old, out-of-shape, so-pale-he's-blue boss, with a face that not even the world's most prestigious plastic surgeons can save - not to mention that nasty scar! And his hair! His awful, terrible - what is that - a mullet? The 80s called, they want their biggest mistake in hairstyle history back where it can stay dead and buried. It even looks like he cuts it himself! Senior. Sr. can see what's happening, and he can't believe it. Is this it? Has his son found his villainous purpose? His raison d'etre? He can hardly keep his composure, he's about to cry tears of joy, of villainous joy!

O, and how poetic, Senior Sr. goes on as Junior - paces, o, he's pacing like he's actually thinking - no, plotting, scheming! - to have it be that his teacher's former student rises up against her employer! Well, it doesn't quite roll off the tongue and it's a bit of a convoluted trope, but it will have to do. It's the modern era, after all, things change.

This moment is immortalised with a Polaroid picture - it's blurry, but it will have to do, since Junior is so focused. Besides, it gives an air of uncertainty, of mysticism, of - and Junior interrupts with a well-timed chastising exclamation of "Father!" Junior ropes in Bonnie, he must, for he will surely need some moral support and a beautiful partner in this caper. She agrees once he assures her there will be custom outfits for them to wear, only the very latest, and most expensive, in fashion today. Dr. D's debut album is called Blue Period. A very special thanks to @gogofordrakgo for volleying ideas with me, having him get a record deal and for having Dr. D pronounce the 'c' as a 'k' in Renaissance man.

[crazydreamer6]

Another gift for @gogofordrakgo and their wonderful fic Dwelling that they STILL NEED TO WRITE MORE OF. Honestly I think this is my favorite scene so far, pls enjoy. @bcbdrums @illogicat @gothicthundra @sharperthewriter @xiontheforgotten @midnightcaptions

[split-n-splice]

For the drive-in theater prompt from @drakgoprompts​. Writing one-shots makes me writhe but an attempt was made after much nudging from @gogofordrakgo​. It's a little bit TCYK-flavor (my main fic), but can be read as general established-relationship Drakgo, probably.

Also found FFn and Ao3! Warnings: none Word count: <1k

"Fly In”

“This is ridiculous,” Shego sighed as the destination came into view. In a big open lot filling up fast with cars, it was hard to miss what amounted to a repurposed billboard painted white.

“Ah-ah-ah. We flipped a coin,” reminded Drakken sternly from behind the controls of the hovercar. “I won fair and square.” From the corner of her eye, she didn’t miss his tongue poke out in her direction.

She rolled her eyes in exasperation and rested her temple against her fist, elbow propped on the rim of the hovercar. “But we have this movie. You know, in the living room, gathering dust with the rest of our VHS’s.”

“Yes, but we never get out,” argued the insistent man. Whining, more like.

“We ‘get out’ at least twice a month,” Shego reminded with the regrettable use of finger quotes and holding two fingers up as if it were evidence in her halfhearted case against his decision.

Drakken ground out something frustrated and his grip tightened on the controls. After Shego had won the coin toss three outings in a row – electing for a casino, a stowaway day on a cruise ship, and a childish game of laser tag – it was only fair she humor him in his turn to choose a destination or activity, an indulgence for just the two of them.

Nonetheless, Shego blew a raspberry as Drakken brought the hovercar in for a landing. “This is stupid,” she criticized for the umpteenth time.

“It’s a movie, Shego. Not water torture,” Drakken retorted, his patience wearing thin.

She didn’t look him in the eye, lest she see the trace of hurt there. She sat straighter with an apathetic sigh. “Whatever. Did you grab the bug spray?”

He grunted a confirmation and tossed her the can before leaping out of the car.

Insect repellent assaulting her senses wasn’t the ideal way to kick off their evening out, but she resigned to giving herself a quick spray, and the blue man too when he returned. He made an unappreciative noise and choked on it.

“Don’t be a baby,” Shego snipped. “You could be wearing your nice cologne, but hey, you’re the one who wanted to do something outside.”

“I am wearing my nice cologne,” Drakken defended, short of a whine again.

A wry little, “Huh,” was all she had to say about that. He glowered at her, but she smirked and snatched up a bucket of popcorn he’d brought back from the dashboard before he could make a grab for it himself.

He managed to swipe a handful of the hot buttery snack for himself before kicking the hovercar back into gear, elevating them several feet off the ground, well above the rest of the cars crowding the lot. He’d been working on silencing the engine for stealth purposes, but if the inevitable hum bothered anybody else, that was their problem. A quick tune of the radio, and he set his feet up on the dash and folded his arms behind his head to get comfortable for the show. He grinned ear to ear at Shego, proudly declaring with his mouth full, “Best seat in the house.”

“I dunno about that,” Shego muttered. “I’d rather be home watching it from the couch.”

His smile fell as he looked over to her, dumbfounded for a moment before his brow knit together. Given they’d seen the decade-old film before, Shego worried for a moment the whole movie would be spent bickering. But then he grunted and glared back at the big screen. “You don’t go to the movies just for the movie. You go for the experience,” he reminded.

Even if he was right, arguing was second-nature. “Yeah, and right now I’m experiencing some major—”

Drakken’s arm landed heavily around her shoulders then. She shut her trap and tried not to look his way, but she caved, stealing a peek at his lower lip pushed out. He was making an effort not to argue, straining just to pout at her. She sighed and supposed she should try as well, and quickly pecked his frowning lips before she could think twice. Fleeting as it was, it was enough to make him flash a grin, even if she had to wipe the bitter taste of the bug spray off on the inside of her own sweater.

“These things are hard to come by,” he said, less defensive and more… informative… as Shego relaxed against his side, his cable-knit sweater soft and warm and making him unfairly huggable, try as she might to resist it. “You ever been to a drive-in?”

“With my family,” she admitted. “When I was a kid.”

He hummed pensively after a minute, his ever-buzzing mind distracted from the movie in front of them, though that was to be expected. “You know, I think we might be pioneers,” he said optimistically.

She tried not to roll her eyes or sigh at his interruption. “Why’s that?”

“We must be the first to make this a fly-in movie.”

Shego leaned back to grimace incredulously at him. “You know they have movies on planes, right?” she said. Sure, catching a movie on a flight wasn’t the same, but she delighted in watching it crawl under his skin nonetheless.

He grunted. “You know what I mean.”

She shook her head and settled back against him. “Doc, has anyone ever told you how behind the times you are?”

Drakken reached for the popcorn in her lap. “Can’t beat the classics,” he said with a contented smile as his eyes finally focused on the big screen once and for all.

[writerchic16]

Heh, I may need a fanfic beta for the first time in a while. This Drakgo dream fic is a little trippy and could use a second opinion before I post. Hint @bcbdrums @gothicthundra @gogofordrakgo...

[sharperthewriter]

Meeting Ducky

This is for @myartsbyme @theguardianofdrakgo @jennaanneg @baronesscmd @mushempu @sanderelinka @theiconicgwen @bethisruthie @amvwolfgirl @voodoodo11 @black-mushroom @annapineappel @garnet-xx-rose @mistahgrundy @sphinlegend84 @belligerentbecca @faralanga @islandoflostdreams @theswampratandtheriverrat @drakkenxshego

I would like for y’all to meet @duckymoose!! Drakgo fan extrodinaire and partner-in-crime to @bcbdrums @gothicthundra @gogofordrakgo @aleego @benjimators @sweet-or-sarcastic @midnightcaptions and @dailysassfromshego and @drakkenville

[bcbdrums]

It’s Drakgo fluff time!

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13577191/8/The-Little-Ones

Thanks @gogofordrakgo for helping with the story starter!

For Leena.

--------------------

Drakken took a step back from the stove as he was unable to stifle a massive yawn. He blinked a few times to focus himself as he quickly returned to the crepe batter cooking in the large pan in front of him. He grinned at the scent that was rapidly filling the small kitchen.

"Mother's secret recipe..." he sing-songed to himself as the crepe finished and he quickly slid it out onto the waiting plate. He filled the crepe with the macerated strawberries he had already prepared, and after folding the crepe topped it in a light sprinkle of powdered sugar and a generous dollop of vanilla bean whipped cream.

He pause a moment to take a long drink of his coffee, and then he added a large link of chicken apple sausage to the plate. He set the plate and Shego's latte on the waiting tray, smiling down at the heart he had made in the milk foam inside the cup.

"And the finishing touch..." he murmured happily as he took off his apron and tossed it back on the hook. His vine slid out from his t-shirt collar on command and produced a large-bloomed pink flower. He plucked it gently and placed it in the ready vase on the tray, and then carefully began the trek back to the bedroom.

A glance at the clock on the wall told him it was just before seven. It was the perfect time to wake Shego for breakfast on their special day. And it was all the more appropriate that they were currently residing in the Caribbean lair for such an occasion.

The bedroom door slid open automatically when he approached it.

"Oh Dumpling," he sang out softly as he stepped inside, "happy anniver—"

He paused and looked around the room, blinking. There was no Shego. He crossed the moat and set the tray on the bed, but when he turned toward the bathroom he paused and furrowed his brow. The door was open, and the interior beyond was dark. He stepped over and looked inside to be sure she wasn't there, and then turned back to survey the bedroom again, scratching his head in confusion.

He wondered where else she could be, and why... He carried the tray back to the kitchen as he thought back to when he had snuck out of bed in the dark hours before dawn. It suddenly occurred to him...he hadn't seen her then either.

He left the tray in the kitchen and began searching the lair, picking up a cordless phone extension as he passed through the living room and found it darkened. He had barely reached the lab before he began dialing her number.

He stood in the open lab doorway, everything within the room still and silent, making the ringing of the phone at his ear seem all the louder. After five rings, it went to her voicemail.

"Shego, I...it's about seven in the morning on Sunday and I'm just wondering where you are. Ignore this message if I've just missed seeing you in the lair somehow."

He hung up and turned back toward the kitchen... Where could she have gone? And why? And why without telling him? That last one was especially concerning, considering—

A noise far across the lair caught his attention, and he hurried in the direction of the sound. He was sure it was the sound of the beach door closing. Perhaps Shego had just been out for a walk?

He turned the corner into the kitchen at the same time Shego jogged around the opposite corner. She stopped short with a gasp, clutching a large plastic grocery bag to her chest in the process.

"Oh!" she said, noticeably startled. Drakken took in her flushed face and the thin sheen of sweat across her brow. She wasn't dressed for a morning walk, but in her green and black suit. "You're up early."

Drakken looked at her in confusion. "Where were you?"

She glanced down at the bag in her hands, and then briefly away before bringing her eyes back to his.

"Getting watermelon?" she said and offered a grin.

He recognized it instantly as a very thin excuse, and he knew that she knew that he knew that. She sighed before he could speak and set her bag on the counter and then leaned over, revealing her shortness of breath for the first time.

"What is it? Did something happen? When did you go out?" Drakken said in a rush, moving to her side and looking her over carefully.

"This was supposed to be a surprise..." she said as she caught her breath, "for our villain anniversary."

Drakken's brow rose.

"But it took a lot longer to get than I thought, and...I wanted to get back in time to wrap it before you got up."

Drakken stared at the nondescript grocery bag that held a fairly large item, his curiosity suddenly aroused.

"You remembered," he said a bit distractedly, grinning nonetheless as he stared at the bag.

Shego reached up and lightly pushed his shoulder. "How could I forget the day we started working together? It was the start of the rest of my life."

Drakken grinned at her affectionately, and then remembered the breakfast tray.

"Oh, I...made you breakfast in bed," he said, pushing the tray toward her. His smile fell slightly when he saw that the perfect foam of the latte had collapsed, though the heart was still visible.

Shego straightened up and smiled. "Thanks."

They grinned at each other happily for a moment before Drakken's eyes fell back to the bag. "Ah...can I...?"

"Go ahead," Shego said, pulling the tray toward her and then cutting into the crepe with a fork.

Drakken opened up the bag and pulled out a very large and heavy plain black cube. His eyes lit up and he almost dropped the object as he leaned over the counter.

"Shego! Is this the neon transformer for the EMP jammer?"

Shego grinned and nodded as she took a bite of the crepe.

"Mmmm!" she hummed in surprise as she chewed the bite. "Is there vanilla in the whipped cream?"

Drakken was turning the transformer over in his hands, a mixture of delight and anticipation on his face.

"Hn? Oh, yes," he said, smiling at her briefly before looking back at the heavy cube. The last component for his EMP jammer... To destroy all electronic devices, and force the world to bow to him...

"Happy villain anniversary."

Drakken looked up as Shego licked some whipped cream from her fork, leaning forward on the counter and smiling in contentment. He set the transformer down and reached across the space between them to gently squeeze her shoulder.

"Happy villain anniversary," he echoed. "I can install this later this afternoon... Oh, it would be perfect if we can take over the world today! Then we can have a double anniversary!"

Shego continued eating the breakfast he'd prepared, grinning at him all the while as he rehashed the plan. He began pacing a small line in front of the counter as he rambled about the toppling of world governments through the sudden destruction of all computers, all cellular phones, all pagers, and anything else electronic that would be caught in the wake of his massive EMP jammer. He was delighted by how Shego's eyes never left his as he talked and she ate. The way her eyes sparkled as he described their takeover entranced him to the point of distraction. He stopped pacing and his words stilled as he found all he could do was smile at her.

A sound from the monitor on the counter drew both of their attention, and they looked at each other with a new focus. Drakken cleared his throat.

"I can take her while you finish breakfast," he suggested.

"Mmm. I want to shower too. And I'm going to need a nap, I got out of here pretty early."

Drakken grinned.

---------------------

Shego had dressed in comfortable sweat pants and a baggy t-shirt after her shower and was watching Drakken thoughtfully as she took her hair down from where she'd pinned it up to keep from getting wet. Drakken was pacing next to the bed, holding their infant daughter who had stopped wailing but was making sounds of discomfort even as Drakken rubbed her back.

"I think she might fall asleep again..." he said, a slightly worried look on his face. Shego couldn't help but grin. He always appeared worried at the slightest hint of unhappiness from their tiny child. If she wasn't there to constantly assure him that all was well, he would probably worry himself to a point of madness.

"That's her hungry sound," Shego informed him calmly as she crossed the moat.

"It is?" Drakken asked, craning his neck to look at the baby's face.

"Mhm. You'll learn them eventually. Let me... Hm."

Shego considered a moment and then after shrugging just pulled her t-shirt off. She was tempted to throw the shirt at Drakken as a familiar fire suddenly rose in his eyes and a growl sounded from deep in his chest.

"Don't start. She's hungry."

Drakken's eyes returned to her face, and he met her in front of the bed to pass the baby to her. Shego started to sit down, but Drakken raised a hand.

"Wait," he said, and Shego turned and watched as he piled pillows against the headboard and then sat down against them. "Come here."

He spread his legs apart and patted the mattress between them. Shego lifted a single eyebrow as she gave him a thoughtful smile, and then moved to join him on the bed. She sat carefully between his legs and then leaned her back up against his chest. She started to position the baby to feed when Drakken's hand was suddenly on her stomach and sliding upward.

Shego turned her head to give him a look of reprimand, but it died at the playful look in his eyes.

"These are working breasts," she managed to say, barely keeping a straight face as she turned her attention back to the baby.

"I can't help it," Drakken said, though he kept his hand over her stomach and slowly felt back and forth across her middle. "Your skin is like...like rose petals."

Shego bit the inside of her cheek to keep her grin from getting too broad, and then moved all of her hair over one shoulder to cover her on the side the baby wasn't eating on. She carefully adjusted her hold on the baby and settled more comfortably against Drakken. A moment later, his arms moved under hers to cradle the baby along with her.

She turned her head to glance at him again, and their eyes met in a brief moment of shared wonder before they both looked down at their daughter again.

"She has your nose," Shego said after a moment.

"I wanted her to have your nose," Drakken sighed, "but...the Lipsky genes are strong."

"Sure are," Shego grinned. "I think she'll be taller than me someday. She'll have more of your build."

"You think so?"

"Yes. Look at how strong her shoulders are."

Drakken's jaw twitched. "I can't see them under those...watermelon pajamas."

Shego smirked and spoke her next words with exaggerated sweetness. "Aren't those just the cutest?"

"You hate me don't you."

Shego cackled softly, and Drakken fell silent. A moment later she moved her fingers apart slightly to allow his to mesh in between hers where they both cradled the baby's head gently.

"Never-mind her build. She has your eyes and mouth," Drakken said softly.

"Mhm. I think...her face is shaped like both of ours. A pretty balanced mix..."

Drakken leaned his head against Shego's as he sighed softly through his nose. Their daughter's eyes had been closed, but she opened them then and looked up at them. The deep blue orbs were curious as the baby looked up at her parents, as if to ask if they were talking about her. Shego almost looked up again as she heard Drakken's breath catch, but she was too full of joy seeing their daughter's eyes look back into hers.

"She's so beautiful..." Drakken breathed. "How did we do this..."

Shego smirked. "Don't tell me you forgot. We practice enough."

She felt Drakken's silent chuckles even as one of his hands moved to her waist and he gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Move my hair?" she asked, as she felt it was time to switch the baby to the other side. Drakken lifted her hair and waited until the baby had been repositioned, and then gently lay the dark mane down over her other shoulder.

The baby's eyes closed as she began suckling again. Drakken's arms circled beneath the baby as before, and his fingers lightly brushed back the thin, soft black hairs on her head. Then he shifted and cleared his throat with a mildly annoyed sound.

"I still can't believe...you almost tricked me into giving her a name that means watermelon."

Shego laughed, her frame shaking as she leaned her head back against Drakken's shoulder. She laughed all the more after looking up at his face and seeing his concerned expression.

"No..." Shego said as her laughter calmed down, her smile broadening, "if you hadn't figured it out I would have told you before you got attached to it."

"Really?" Drakken asked.

"Of course. I don't want our daughter to resent me forever because I named her after a pregnancy craving."

The way Drakken pursed his lips made her chuckle again, and after a moment Drakken shook his head and began snickering. He set his head against hers as they laughed together, and after a long minute Drakken moved his hand to her middle to give her another squeeze.

Shego grinned at him and then looked back to the baby. Her eyes were still closed and her suckling had grown less intentional.

"Is she asleep?" Drakken asked.

"On her way," Shego said, settling against Drakken's chest more comfortably.

He turned and placed a long, soft kiss high on her cheek, and then rested his head against hers. Shego closed her eyes and hummed in happiness.

"Happy villain anniversary," she said softly.

"Happy...beginning of forever," he replied.

[legendary-guest]

@gogofordrakgo wrote something that included a red lab coat and I was compelled to bring it to life. Blue and red are one of my favourite colour combinations, I just had to see what it'd look like on Drakken. I went for a young Dr. D; he has not been at it for very long, but he's developed some muscle. Experimented with skin tones and the scar to see how they would look!

[crazydreamer6]

Wheeeewwwwwwww, been a hot minute since I drew these two idiots. This one goes out to @gothicthundra cuz it’s hilarious and made me think of RTD. @bcbdrums @gogofordrakgo @nyckie @shegogogirl @sharperthewriter Miss you guys, much love.

[midnightcaptions]

"Slide into the sex dungeon" tops anything i could've come up with, thank you @gogofordrakgo

[split-n-splice]

SHORT CHAPTER IS SHORT. Just something to worry the good Doctor.

[Chapter Guide | FFn | Ao3]

32. Aura of Others – Or Lack Thereof

Drakken had done his best to accommodate his guests and endure catching up with his mother, which consisted mostly of getting an earful for two straight hours. Letting his mother talk was probably for the best. He wasn’t ready to explain certain accidents in detail anyway.

Finally, he wished his mother goodnight and retired for the night, only to find Shego had, once again, shifted in her sleep to lie diagonally across his bed. She was far from lucid, even if she awoke briefly each time he nudged her awake to set her straight. He hadn’t let her have that much, had he?

Drakken made sure she was as far as reasonably possible before cautiously climbing in on the far side himself. Lights off. Eyes shut. She was far enough away, he could have ignored her.

Contrary to the last time, Shego evidently didn’t feel like being ignored.

There was a thump on the mattress in the space between them, and Drakken cracked his tired eyes open to scowl at the ceiling for a long moment before casting a sidelong glance toward her. By the dim glow of the clock, he could just barely make out Shego’s outstretched arm, fingers reaching toward him. He felt around on the headboard above him for his glasses to take a better look, and sure enough, Shego’s eyes were open, albeit still droopy. She drummed her fingers almost impatiently.

After a watchful moment, Drakken sighed and met her halfway. Her fingers were cold. Were her hands normally so cold?

Shego’s eyes shut again, a faint smile playing on her lips. Another minute passed before the smile fell and presumably she fell asleep with it.

Deeming it safe to retract his hand, Drakken folded them over his chest and returned to studying the darkness above him.

His eyes stung, yet he was too ill at ease to sleep. Not with his mother in the other room, and not with his accomplice lying across the bed from him. There was no telling how long he lay there awake, refusing to acknowledge the clock as he listened to nothing but Shego’s quiet breathing and the flow of the stream, before he succumbed to the beck and call of a restless mind. He flicked on the lamp without thinking. Lab work was out of the question, but he had a notebook he could at least scratch down notes to himself in.

He didn’t get that far.

She caught him off guard. He’d been sure she was asleep.

He thought he was being careful not to disturb her when he leaned over – Shego had claimed his usual spot, so naturally his pen and pad were above her – but then her hands snapped out, fists balling up in his shirt to yank him down before he could jump back. Biting back a surprised yelp, Drakken’s breath caught in his throat as her mouth collided with it, graceless and nearly forceful enough to choke him. It wasn't so much a kiss as it was a grin against his windpipe, but it didn't change the fact she was too close.

Whatever idle thoughts he'd meant to jot down flew out the window and out of his reach as his eyelids fell shut for a brief moment. Her fingers might have been chilly at the nape of his neck but her mouth was warm, and her low sleepy chuckle against his skin sent yet more warmth flooding in the wrong direction.

She nuzzled the crook of his neck and his heart stuttered.

Whether it was a case of cold feet or snapping back to his senses, Drakken jerked backwards when he felt her breath on his face as she tried pulling herself up. Even as inebriated as she was, Shego didn't let go of his shirt, and he wrangled with her hands but her grip was vice-like. She made a small noise of disappointment as he slipped out of the shirt like a lizard shedding its tail to escape.

As Drakken tumbled out of bed, he crossed his fingers the intoxicated woman left behind wouldn't remember his panicked escape come morning. Heart hammering, he all but fled from his own room, casting a glance back at Shego as he left. His accomplice was already dropping back to the pillows, pulling his stolen shirt to her face like a child cuddling her favorite blanket. She almost looked sad – but he decided the somber expression was probably due to nodding off again already. She’d been acting peculiar and in and out of consciousness – if it could even be called that – all night.

He hoped a few minutes quietly spent in the kitchen would be sufficient, waiting on Shego to fall asleep once more as he gulped down a glass of water and helped himself to a bag of shredded cheddar. Every small noise sounded ten times louder at this time of night, knowing his mother of all people was snoring on his couch across the cavern. It seemed the only one who couldn’t sleep tonight was him.

Leaned against the counter, nibbling away, he contemplated retreating to an open room in the henchmens' dorms for the night. But he shook his head and dismissed the thought with a sigh. Someone had to keep his mother and his accomplice separated at all costs, and he was the only one fit for the job.

Five long minutes passed before he dared to creep up to his own bedside once again. Bag of cheese still in hand as he snacked on it like popcorn, he warily watched Shego sleep – hoping like mad she was in fact asleep this time – scanning for any sure sign it was safe to return to bed. His head was pounding, and Shego very clearly wasn't in a sound state of mind herself – but the thought of her too close just minutes ago haunted him and sent another shiver down his spine. He tried to rub away the phantom sensation before climbing back in.

Not quite as abrupt as before, Shego's eyes opened and Drakken froze once again. She sat up slowly, unsteadily, eyeing him, but her focus had now shifted. Before he could object or evade her, she lunged forward to grab the bag of cheese, retreating to the center of the bed to hunch over the bag and all but inhale cheese by the handful. It was something of a grotesque display, but he supposed he must have let her have more than her share of alcohol tonight, so he turned a blind eye and resigned himself to laying on the very edge of his own bed while his companion cursed under her breath through mouthfuls of cheddar.

At least the cheese kept her busy.

A/N:

As @gogofordrakgo​ has tenderly put it, Shego is high off her ass, pretty much. Throwin' that out there, in case it wasn't clear enough.

[gogofordrakgo]

even Drakken took a moment to mourn her, when he thought she’d been killed on the lowardian ship

furthermore, that time Kim sent her enemies plunging into arctic waters and she just left them for dead

I swear, that kid probably gets away with murder and gets a pat on the back

[sharperthewriter]

Kimmunity Welcome to LambInArmor

Good evening, y’all, and members of the Villainstafam and the Kimmunity.

@gothicthundra @sammie050301 @dailysassfromshego @daisypoisonpen @random-emerald-thoughts @benjimators @sweet-or-sarcastic @aleego @theiconicgwen @bcbdrums @gogofordrakgo @midnightcaptions @bethisruthie @duckymoose @nyctra @xiontheforgotten @amvwolfgirl @jennaanneg @wanderingquill

I am honored and pleased to introduce the newest member of the Kimmunity with open arms: @lambinarmor! 

[bcbdrums]

Happy birthday @gogofordrakgo!!!  I’m sorry this gift is so late, it couldn’t be helped...  I hope you enjoy!!!

[legendary-guest]

Based on Dwelling by @gogofordrakgo and inspired by conversation with her. If you have read up until Chapter 17, that is all the context you will need to understand this one-shot. There are two endings in this. The second ending is a continuation of the first, and will be under a Keep Reading break. Constructive criticism is appreciated. REM Streetlights dotting along the sidewalk cut through the night-cloaked path to Drew's apartment, the not inexpensive prize of strawberries rolling around in their flimsy plastic carton. The time to justify such an absurd trip had evidently come and gone, as had the initial reason for buying them in the first place. He hopes he can remember it before they all go bad.

Shoe hitting the elevated edge of a concrete slab sees the strawberries fly out of his grip, hands now tasked with saving his face from scraping the pavement. Losing his glasses is par for the course.

Although the fall is not bad, his palms ache fiercely. Drew attributes it to the abrupt stop; but if that were the case, the pain should be in his wrists. Blurred vision is the single reminder of where he should be putting his focus.

Ache turns to sting as he glides his hand over the ground, not knowing why he isn't patting around for them to avoid agitating the likely injury. He's glad that he has no audience to watch the pathetic display. Tears threaten to form at the mere thought of stifled laughs and condescending sneers.

He finds them lens-side down, as expected. He can only pray (since when did he do that?) that there isn't a scratch, or worse, a chip, in the glass. World now in focus, the atmosphere changes. He isn't alone. Leaping to his feet, the distinctive glint of a knife grazes his peripheral vision. He stumbles backward, but only about a foot. Not far enough, but he can move no further.

Shadowed, the assailant is at least a head taller than him, and definitely twice as wide in a way that makes Drew wonder why he even needs a knife in the first place. His mind races, trying to figure a way out, whilst he finds, and maintains, eye contact. All is still, and the danger seeps in. Materialising between would-be victim and perpetrator, a girl dressed in a striking suit, skin faintly glowing in the inky black of the night. Intrigued, entranced, frightened, Drew can only watch as she extends a hand outward, alighting it, with what, and how, he doesn't know. Whatever it is, what happens next is a violent whirlwind of attack, a dazzling display of gymnastic grace and green fire. He is no match for her.

Battered and burned, the attacker falls to his hands and knees, whimpering incoherently for her mercy. This does not move her, and the sputtering pleas come to a halt.

A long silence ensues.

Drew waits with bated breath.

"You better get going, Sport. Before I change my mind."

The hulking mass recoils and makes his exit.

They are alone. He hasn't moved a single muscle, but he's panting as if he himself had fought. Turning her head in profile, she smirks, clearly satisfied at another job well-done. She starts forward, crouching down to surely spring off the very ground and fly into the starry sky.

"Wait!"

His hand passes through into the night, outside the perimeter of the streetlight beaming down on him. It's so intense he starts to sweat. She stops, straightens herself out, dark hair swaying, he can determine this much.

"Wh-who are you?" He asks, but a part of his brain that isn't submerged in unconsciousness alerts him to a vague familiarity.

In one smooth motion she turns around to face him, arms akimbo. Her hair seems to be the only thing animated about her, taking its time to still in comparison to the rest of her perfectly controlled movements.

The darkness reluctantly relinquishes her to the light as she takes a single step towards him. His breath catches.

Not a girl, a woman.

Her suit covers every inch of her, save for her face and a sliver of pale neck. Yet, it doesn't shy away from showing her off, letting him know who, what, she really is.

"Thank you. For saving me." He has no idea how he has managed to say this, somehow looking her in the eye and ogling her. Some mental trick.

Maybe it's this heat. Yes. That must be it.

She smiles at him. Amused.

A jolt of fear and shame rush through him. Had she caught him staring?

"Shego." She breathes her answer.

"Sh-Shego." Her name breaks on his nervous tongue. Her chest rises, an intake of breath, the very first he has seen and heard from her, he realises.

"I..." Then he catches it, some flicker of expectation in her eyes. It floods him with confidence. "I think it's...customary," a deliberate pause, not a fumble, "for a heroine to be rewarded." He moves closer to her, and she tilts her head slightly upward to look at him.

Coy smile on perfect lips ease into knowing, but her response to him retains an edge.

"Heroines don't accept money."

"No," He agrees, his hand cupping her soft cheek, "I didn't think so." He can't help but rub his calloused thumb over her skin, imparting affection, assuring her he means no harm.

Nothing more needs to be said, as desire finally takes a hold of him. He doesn't resist, but neither does she, meeting him in the middle.

His tongue slides over hers. She tastes of alcohol. Caramel-apple.

Unable to turn off his thinking brain even amidst a passionate kiss, he wonders if this is what fuels her fire.

She pulls away, still so close as to steal a breath from him when she gasps. He almost makes the mistake of leaning in once more, seeking to capture her again, when she slackens in his arms.

How long had he been holding her for?

The last of her strength leaves her, and he is now supporting her full weight as she leans to the side, head hanging.

"Shego, what's wrong?" Careful not to drop her, he shifts forward.

Sweat is practically pouring down his neck and forehead by the time she meets his gaze again, expression pained and vulnerable. He even catches the tell-tale glitter of emerging tears in her eyes before she indicates with the turn, and then fall, of her head to her opposite side. Drew follows.

A clean, but ugly, diagonal cut to her right side from the top of her hip, stopping just short of the underside of her breast. That wasn't there before, was it? No way, he would have noticed it, it's huge.

The wound does not bleed. He doesn't question why or why not. She's injured and needs help, all the same.

"Shego, come on," He manoeuvres himself over to her left side, placing her arm over his shoulder, "My apartment isn't too far from here, I-I can help." Nervousness dares to break through, but when she rests her head against his shoulder, he steels himself.

The trek could have taken minutes or hours. He could have hauled her up a single flight of stairs or fifty. The time that passes, or refuses to pass, an age or a moment, it doesn't deter him. On occasions where Shego leans heavily on him, shakes her head at the futility of it all, he encourages her to stay awake, to hold on, to pull-through.

Finally, the two make it to his door. It gives him no trouble, and mercifully opens on its own. He sets her on the couch and he can feel, can see, her body relax. Shego leans her head back.

His eye spots a bead of sweat rolling down her jaw, trickling along her neck until it disappears between the gap of her throat and collar, beneath the suit. Drew swallows. The unrelenting heat returns, even under the weak incandescent lightbulb of the meagre living room.

Instinctively, he knows the first aid kit is under the coffee table, although this is not its usual place. He is thankful for being able to turn his back to Shego to retrieve it.

From the carpeted floor to sitting across from her on the couch, he finds his hands holding an open bottle of isopropyl alcohol and gauze, the kit not between them like it should be, but beside him. The fumes make him light-headed, though there is no pungent smell to accompany it.

No. It tastes like caramel-apple.

"Drew." His head snaps to her. Did he ever tell her his name?

"I want you to take it off." Clear, and if he didn't know any better, confident. She might even have some knowing look in her eye. Half an amused smile.

The heat.

"Wh-what?" His hands tremble.

"You...have to take it off," Her voice is weak again, pained, breathy, "If you...want to help me."

Drew nods. He can't even swallow, his throat is so dry and his tongue thick, heavy. Whatever he'd been holding had slipped through clammy palms and disappeared into wherever it is that forgotten things slip and disappear into. They couldn't have been that important, anyway.

Thumb and forefinger find the zipper of Shego's suit easily. He didn't even need to actually see it to know where it was. The metal is so cool on the edge of his last knuckle, even feeling it through the thick callous of his thumb. The teeth along the tape grin at their unveiling, exposing full, green-tinted flesh.

'Oh my God. She's perfect, every inch of her.'

Simmering desire, lust, turns into a rolling boil as he travels down, until it hits the top of her belt. Her belt.

"Drew, what are you doing?"

Panic burrows under his skin, racing across every nerve. Shego - Shea? Shea is Shego. But how can she be? They don't even sound, don't even look - he dares to steal a stupid, moronic, lascivious glance at her. Full, beautiful curves, now skin and bone.

The look of terror and disgust on her face is justified.

Even still, he starts blathering on like the coward he is, desperate to save himself from a fate he knows he deserves. Old habits die hard.

Shea screams expletives at him, shielding her small, deceptively fragile-looking body, holding the suit closed with one hand whilst the other is engulfed in a blaze of green and black-flecked flame.

His blathering is reduced to babbling, mouth forming word-shaped sounds when she aims for him. Unable to turn from her, he backs out of his own door.

Shea is a good shot.

He can't even feel the heat of the flame - plasma? The only thing he's aware of is the fact that he's falling, falling over the threshold of the staircase.

Drew wakes up.

Relief, selfish relief at the inherent deception of the dream is short-lived, as the slight shift of his hips reveals an unwelcome (filthy, sticky) truth about the trappings of his own mind. There's no winning.

[midnightcaptions]

@gogofordrakgo​

[gofordrakgo]

Do you think Drakken gives Shego hydrangeas and strawberries, once he has more control over his powers?

I do!! I have a story idea in the works actually, where Drakken slowly starts to research and add more and more different plant genetics to his solution- and mixing them into his own abilities. Strawberries and hydrangeas are among the first!