Shego Didn't Want To Be Here
1 year earlier.
The long wrap-around terrace of the bar was alive on this particular night, glowing with string lights that cast a warm, golden hue over patrons sipping on cocktails and laughing with abandon. Below, Bourbon Street swarmed with life–a vibrant tapestry of mortals weaving through the chaos. Tourists, swaying drunks, and residents wandered under the neon signs of jazz clubs and dive bars, the air thick with the mingling scents of fried seafood, cheezy pizza, and the faint musk of sweat.
A live band blasted melodies from a street bar so beautifully that one could correctly assume they had stumbled on Frenchmen Street. Shego took in the different rhythms and laughed when they were interrupted by the occasional boisterous shout from what she believed belonged to a drunk college frat boy. She watched a bachelorette party walk by, each woman clutching plastic hurricane glasses, swooning over the New Orleans charm, and she felt appreciative that she would never have to endure any similar situation. Laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the distant wail of a saxophone swirled together into the soundtrack of the night.
Leaning over the decaying iron railing, Shego stood apart from the crowd. Her dark silhouette was framed by the flickering neon glow from the signature bar sign behind her. She perched there with the casual elegance of someone who belonged to the night, her body angled forward, elbows resting on the cool iron. Her gaze was fixed intently across the street at a bar spilling red light from its doorway, where silhouettes of dancers blurred through the smokiness of it all.
Shego tilted her head as if straining to catch a snatch of conversation or the rhythm of a song that lured her attention, but Shego didn’t want to be here. She just knew how to blend in. The bourbon in her glass caught the light, swirling amber reflections that mirrored the chaotic energy below. Yet her focus didn’t falter as she caught her eye on her target for the night. Kim had arrived back in her line of sight. This time, Kim was not alone. Shego definitely didn’t want to be here. It was, after all, a night she could not get back, but Drakken was clear,
“Keep your eye on the girl, Shego; I need her to be anywhere but here.”
With the vagueness of his orders, Shego should have refused, but she didn’t. She decided on the plane ride over that her decision was influenced by the lack of encounters they shared recently. It had been a while since the two had even fought, let alone seen a glimpse of each other. There was a mix of curiosity, expectancy, and perhaps a hint of mischief in Shego’s mind tonight as the city's nightlife played out around here. What had Kim Possible been up to recently? Woah. No, Shego didn’t care about what Kim had been doing. No, she just wanted to know that things were unchanged with Kim. Yeah. Thats it.
Kim seemed to be enjoying herself throughout the night. She was with Monique and what appeared to be Monique's friends. They went from bar to bar, and Shego never saw one girl pay for one drink. She never saw this side of Kim. Relaxed, vulnerable, guard down, and Shego felt this mission was becoming less of a mission as the night went on.
Shego had to give credit where it was due; as Kim wandered back into her line of sight, again not alone, a boy followed closely. No, a man. No. Boy? Man? He was handsome. He had a tall build and didn’t dress like he had three shirts in his closet. Not bad, Kimmie. Not bad at all. The dance floor was crowded, bodies moving with the music but not busy enough to obscure Shego’s view of the two. She watched as Kim danced with her back pressed against his front, her body swaying with a fluidity that probably matched the rhythm of the music. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, and Shego wondered if her hair ever looked any redder. The boy-man’s hands rested on Kim's hips, guiding her every move. The closeness between them was certain, intimate without feeling flashy, as though they were having a private moment in a room full of people. Shego downed her drink.
Kim leaned into him further, her head tilting slightly to the side, allowing his breath to brush against her neck as they moved together. The music must have slowed into a sultry beat because Shego saw their movements follow suit. His hands traveled lightly along her sides, skimming the curve of her waist before settling again, holding her steady as her body rolled in perfect sync with his. With that, Shego felt her glow getting stronger, but she didn’t question why; she focused on curing it first. Shego stepped back from the railing to get a double and close her tab.
When Shego returned to her spot on the terrace, she spotted Kim with her arms lifted, her hands brushing through the back of his hair before resting behind his head. He took this as an invitation, and Shego froze. Any onlooker would see that the lights from the bar behind Shego outlined her figure, catching the curve of her jaw tense and the reflective sheen of the still drink in her hand. She didn’t sip it—she just watched, her expression unreadable. The boy-man leaned in closer, his lips brushing words against Kim’s ear, though they were swallowed by the music. Kim laughed softly, her head tilting back to rest on his shoulder as they continued their dance, her body molded perfectly to his. When he gripped Kim’s hips harder and pushed his front into Kim, his lips pursed together, his eyes closed, and his head tilted back. Then, he did it again, but this time, his left hand slid into Kim’s front pocket, and Shego could do nothing but watch as she saw him bend his knees to gather more friction. Shego felt… hot. Her blood was scalding.
Shego shifted her weight for a moment, her knuckles tightening on the railing. Her mind took over, and Shego found herself wondering what it would feel like if she were behind Kim. How strong would Kim hold the nape of her neck? How would Kim’s hips feel in her hands? Shego took a long swig when she thought about grinding down into Kim thoroughly. The knot in Shego’s lower stomach stopped her train of thought completely. She awoke to the sight of Kim kissing him. When the boy started to get rougher, Kim politely pushed him away, but Shego knew her hand was forceful; she felt that hand push her before. Shego felt the smirk on her face, which she eventually washed away with the rest of her drink.
Of course, Kim wouldn’t do anything she wasn’t comfortable doing. Shego was clearly losing her fucking mind. What the hell was Kim doing in her thoughts like that? This was surveillance; this was absolutely not the time to get distracted by anything. Yeah, Kim was beautiful. Any dumbass could tell you that, but the reaction that Shego had tonight was simply unacceptable. Kim was not hers, nor was she something that Shego wanted to be hers. Shego is not possessive. Okay, that’s a lie, but Shego had never considered Kim to be a sensual person. This was never a possibility. Shego was older, and Kim was a kid. Clearly, that changed.
Shego pondered this for a second. It could be the booze or maybe not, but Shego was certain of one thing… she was attracted to Kim Possible. Her grip on the railing loosened as she allowed herself a breath. She needed to focus. When she glanced back; the woman across the street was gone.
Alarm seized her chest, a sudden, jarring emptiness where the Kim had been. Shego had never lost a mark. Her eyes darted frantically across the street, scanning the clusters of people laughing and drinking, but the damn woman was nowhere to be seen. She shifted her gaze to the stairs leading down to the main bar–had Kim gone further inside? Or disappeared into the crowd below? Shego leaned farther over the railing, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of the street below. People moved like a tide, ebbing and flowing under the electricity of Bourbon Street, but none of them were her.
Her mind raced, replaying the last few moments in an attempt to piece together where she might have gone. How could she have disappeared so quickly? No, wrong question. How could Shego let her mind lose focus? Kim has skills; of course, she could disappear if she wanted to, but that is not what happened. Kim wasn’t trying to allude to Shego, and that thought made Shego angry. Finally, a familiar feeling. Unfortunately, her anger was directed at herself, but at least this feeling felt better to stomach.
For the first time that night, Shego felt the weight of her own solitude, the noise of the street below suddenly too loud, the light too harsh. She took a step back from the railing, running a hand through her jet-black hair as her eyes darted back to the terrace across the street, hoping for a glimpse, a shadow, anything. But Kim was gone, and all that remained was the restless hum of the night, pressing in on her from all sides.