Shego Really Hadn’t Thought This Through.
Chapter 3 - Shego Really Hadn't Thought This Through
This is absolutely embarrassing. Shego perched on the rooftop, green-glowing fingers twitching with frustration as she scanned the bustling street below. The light from the neon signs reflected off her skin, making her irritation all the more obvious. This was absolutely humiliating. Shego—the Shego—had lost her mark. For the first time. Ever. And, of course, it just had to be Kim Possible she was tracking.
“She’s a walking beacon of obnoxious do-gooder energy,” Shego cursed under her breath. How hard can it be to track someone who looks like a cheerleader crossed with a G.I. Joe action figure? Shego thought, taking the steps two at a time. Of course, Kim wasn’t dressed as Kim tonight, but that is beside the point.
The street was the most logical place to start. If Kim had ducked into the crowded chaos below it was because it was the flashy, classic, correct distraction move, and it would leave Shego chasing her trail like an amateur. That wasn’t it thought right? Kim was just drunk? Gritting her teeth, Shego vaulted down to the alleyway and slipped seamlessly into the crowd, her eyes sharp, scanning every corner.
As Shego weaved her way through the chaotic crowd on Bourbon Street, it hit her—everyone here was absolutely trashed. Forget walking in a straight line; most people couldn’t even form coherent sentences. Yet, somehow, they were all having the time of their lives, laughing and shouting like the world was ending tomorrow.
Shego glanced around and felt a nagging sense of misplacement. Wasn’t she supposed to be drunk too? Everyone else was. That seemed to be the secret formula tonight, right? Drunk equals a good time. Not that she didn’t drink–she’d had plenty of whiskey tonight.
Shego scolded herself. Four drinks, and all she felt was a slight tingle. Great, she can’t even blame alcohol for the fact that she lost sight of Kim. Those gulps should’ve done something –anything. But no, she was as sharp and sober as ever, like some pranked teenager falling for a bad joke.
Shego’s lips curled into a wry smile as her mind drifted to an old rumor she’d heard about Kim’s cheerleading squad. Supposedly, they had some twisted rite of passage for their freshmen–” fresh meat,” as they called them. The story went four rookies, four shots. The twist? Three of the shots were watered-down vodka mixed with blue Gatorade, while one was pure Gatorade. The unsuspecting freshman with pure Gatorade would down her shot, blissfully ignorant, proclaiming it was nothing.
The real trick came with the second round. This time, no one got Gatorade—just clear, unadulterated vodka. With high confidence, the rookie would take the shot, only to cough and sputter as the burn hit them for the first time. It was the kind of juvenile prank she’d normally roll her eyes at, but tonight, the absurdity of it brought a brief distraction. Shego never asked Kim to confirm if it was true or not, but that’s the reason she remembers it. She had wanted to ask Kim about it.
Well, fuck. She has to find the damn woman first. Once again, distracted by the thought of Kim.
She followed her instincts to a nearby bar–a dingy, low-lit dive tucked between a cigar lounge and a tourist shop. Okay, maybe it was her villain instincts, but there was a strong possibility that a drunk Possible would end up here, right? It’s a perfect “last stop” type of bar to wander into. The music was familiar, and there were a decent amount of high tables with seating surrounding the bar area (far away from the dance floor). The bass of an old Taylor Swift pop song mingled with the buzz of conversation as Shego stepped further inside. The bouncer hadn’t carded her, out of fear, sure she hoped, otherwise, it would be because she looked of age. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dim lights, and she moved to the bar, pretending to glance at the chalkboard drink menu. She couldn’t exactly look like a complete stalker.
She scanned the exits. Front door. Back door near the restrooms. It was hopeful that Kim would have already “broken the seal” and would have to go to the bathroom with her friends, but Shego knew this was trivial. The windows were too narrow to be useful unless Kim had magically learned to contort herself. Well, Kim could be… NO. It’s a typical rookie move, hiding in a place like this. Shit. She isn’t hiding. She’s drunk. Shego decided Kim was at a bar. Now, she just had to find the correct one. Bar hopping is fun! She would survey each bar and then wait, which should take her less than five minutes per—
“Hey there.” some heavily scented man was on her radar before Shego even snapped her head to face him. It was a voice that oozed unwarranted confidence, and Shego felt her jaw tighten when she turned. A guy–mid-twenties, leaning too casually against the bar—grinned at her. Oh, for the love of G-d… just walk away, buddy, Shego sighed. He had floppy brown hair and a smirk that screamed boy-next-door-meets-frat-boy. Slowly but surely, Shego actually looked at the frat boy, and it didn’t take her long to realize two things: (1) She knew this boy-man, and (2) it just so happened she watched as this boy-man kissed Kimmie.
“What’s your name?” he asked, voice dripping with charm he clearly thought was irresistible. Oh, please stop talking before I make you. Shego was sure she wanted to punch this man. (In fact, she was picturing what his nose would look like broken). Instead, Shego raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Not interested.”
“Come on, don’t be like that,” he pressed, leaning closer. “You look like you could use some company.” What the fuck? Wasn’t this boy just hitting on Kimmie? What, it just took him negative 5 seconds to find a new conquest? Shego was livid with just the thought. Well, not livid, but bothered? Fuck, I don’t have time to figure out… Shego’s thoughts were interrupted.
“You look beautiful,” boy-man cut in still holding his smile. Really, you even interrupt my thoughts? Shego scoffed.
“You look like you could use a mirror,” Shego shot back, her tone sharper than the blade hidden in her boot. Oh, how she wished he would give her a reason to use it. Boy-man reached for his beer, the napkin sticking to the bottom of the glass from condensation. In doing so, his jacket straightened, and Shego almost laughed. Almost.
The guy–Mark, according to the name embroidered on his jacket–chuckled at her comment as if he thought she was joking. “Feisty, huh? I like that.” Damn! I take it back. Kim has no taste. An embroidered Jacket? Can he not remember his own name?!
Shego groaned inwardly, her patience rapidly dissolving. She took a step back, ready to leave, but Mark moved to block her path. “Don’t go yet,” he said, his grin slipping into something more possessive. “Let me buy you a drink.”
Funny. Shego thought .
“Move,” Shego said, her voice low and dangerous. She knew she should walk away because there was no reason to fight Mark, and for a brief moment, Shego had every intention to leave it alone. This idiot did nothing wrong. He danced with Kim. He did nothing wrong. Walk away.
“Move, now,” Shego repeated, a little annoyed, but for the most part, her tone was flat. Mark puffed out his chest as to make a statement that he would not budge. Apparently, Shego had not done enough to scare him away because he went to reach for her arm, presumably to get her to stay.
As soon as he made contact, she snapped. Shego’s fist connected with his face, and she smiled when she felt a crack. She wasn’t done. She should have stopped there, but she wasn’t done. With both hands, she picked him up, holding him by the collar of his stupid embroidered jacket, and shoved him in front of her. He could not be done with her because she was confident that she wasn’t done with him. Her next punch made contact with his chest, sending him stumbling backward into a nearby chair, but this time, Mark recovered quickly, lunging back at her. Bad move. The fight was short but explosive—chairs knocked over, a table bothered, a couple of glasses broken in half, and patrons scattering as Shego dodged and countered with the precision of someone who had fought for a living. Mark, to his credit, managed to block a couple of her punches, but it was clear he was out of his depth. The pain was something Shego invited. She wanted Mark to hurt her, each bruise acting like a reminder of this fight (one that she strongly believed she would win), but nothing prepared her for a voice that would cut through her very being.
Just as Shego was about to finish Mark off with a kick that would’ve sent him flying into the sound system, a familiar voice rang out.
“That’s enough!”
Shego froze mid-kick, her foot hovering inches from Mark’s chest. No win for her tonight. She turned her head, already knowing who it was.
Kim Possible stood on the balcony, arms crossed and an exasperated look on her face. “Really, Shego? A bar brawl?” Her form was leaning against the railing.
Shego scowled, lowering her leg and stepping back. “This guy was asking for it.” Shego still held a subtle fighting stance, not fully trusting Mark to stay in place.
Kim arched an eyebrow, her lips twitching with the faintest hint of a smirk. “I’m sure he was. But I’m pretty sure you didn’t come here to play bouncer.” Kim disappeared after her sentence, bounding the stairs. Mark was standing, well more like leaning, by a table. A pack of his friends stepped in front of him, but none of them made any move to fight for him .
Shego glanced around at the destruction the fight caused, the patrons still staring at her like she was a zoo exhibit. This… this was not how she’d planned to handle this mission. Damn it! The mission! As if on cue, and before Shego could collect herself, the crowd parted, and there she was–Kim, cutting through the chaos as if it didn’t faze her. I guess I found her, Shego thought, taking in the presence of Kim.
She wore that easy, almost infuriating confidence, her posture relaxed, her smile unguarded. Her auburn hair fell in soft waves, and her green eyes sparkled with an unsettling mix of amusement and something warmer.
Kim’s gaze swept over the room, taking in the damage, then landed on Mark, still unconscious in the corner, before finally locking onto Shego. For a moment, she said nothing, her expression unreadable. And then, out of nowhere, Kim started laughing a light, genuine laugh that echoed over the stunned silence of the bar.
Shego blinked, caught off guard. Of all the reactions she’d braced for–anger, smugness, some self-righteous speech–this wasn’t one of them. And yet, there was no mistaking the look on Kim’s face. She was happy. Relaxed, even. And if Shego didn’t know any better, she’d think Kim might actually be… happy to see her.
“What?” Shego snapped, she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks as she crossed her arms defensively. “What’s so funny, princess?”
Kim grinned, her laughter finally tapering off as she took a step closer. “You. A bar fight? Really? I mean, you could’ve just called me if you wanted to make an entrance, Shego.” Her voice was light, teasing, and Shego couldn’t tell if it was meant to disarm her or just make her feel ridiculous. Either way, it was working.
Shego sighed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, Princess.”
Kim stepped toward Shego; her tone was more smug than usual, “Look, if you want to talk, we can do it somewhere less… dramatic.” Kim looked at Shego in the same way she would when Kim held the upper hand in a fight. Shego did not like this one bit, and she didn’t respond immediately, her mind racing with excuses and exit strategies. But as she met Kim’s steady gaze, she realized something.
She really hadn’t thought this through.