Turning Pool Tables
The pool table sat where a dining table should have been; its green felt illuminated by a warm pendant lighting. Kim rolled her cue stick between her fingers, feigning uncertainty as she glanced at Shego.
"Who breaks?" Shego asked, setting her drink down carefully on the windowsill. She would never risk ruining a pristine pool table with a ring of condensation. Her eyes flicked to the lineup of beer bottles already resting nearby—clearly, Kim shared the same respect for a well-kept table.
Kim shrugged. "You have a coin? We can flip for it."
Kim didn’t need to look up at Shego; Kim could practically hear the smugness as Shego said. "Nah, there is a more fitting way to determine who. Help me get all the balls off the table."
They both worked to remove the setup, properly removing the balls from the middle of the table and the triangle, leaving the table completely clear. Kim stood across the table from Shego now, looking expectantly at her guest. As Shego took her sweet time moving towards her drink to take a sip, Kim rolled her cue stick between her fingers again, watching as a drop of condensation slid down the glass to pool at the bottom before finally dripping—so agonizingly slow it felt like the water itself was putting on a performance, and it was somehow Shego’s doing. Kim needed to focus though, Shego needed to feel confident before this game. From the moment Shego agreed to play, Kim had made up her mind—she would play her, not just in pool, but for the answers she wanted. If tricking Shego was the only way to get them, so be it. So, feigning hesitation, Kim glanced at Shego and spoke..
"So, uh… how do I hold this thing correctly?" she asked, her voice carrying the perfect amount of hesitation.
Shego arched a brow, smirking. "Seriously? You’re telling me you can fight off a dozen goons without breaking a sweat, but you don’t know how to hold a pool cue?"
Kim shrugged, letting the stick rest awkwardly in her grip. "Not exactly in my skill set."
Shego smiled, stepping up behind her. "Alright, princess," she paused but continued, " May I?" Shego took one step closer, silently asking if she could enter Kim's space.
Kim only nods.
Kim felt the warmth of Shego’s body before she even made contact. When Shego’s hands settled over hers, adjusting her grip, Kim noted the difference—Shego’s fingers were longer, and her palms were rougher. Probably because Shego hadn’t been benched for the past month like Kim. The heat of her skin seeped through, lingering just enough to make Kim aware of how close they really were.
For a moment, neither moved. Kim could feel Shego’s breath near her ear, the scent of something smoky and sharp mixing with the faded floral notes of whatever shampoo she used. Then, Shego shifted slightly, her voice dropping just above a whisper. "Grip it a little lower... unless you like..." Shego somehow gets closer, "how this..." Shego's lips brush lightly against Kim's ear as she finishes the question, "feels?" The question hung in the limited air between them. Kim didn’t answer, just shook her head, her fingers adjusting on the cue.
F ocus, Kim thought.
Breathe normally , Shego thought.
Then, Shego pulled back quickly and placed the white cue ball in front of Kim’s stick. Kim didn’t take her eyes off the white cue ball to look at Shego. Not even when Shego cleared her throat as if shaking something off.
"Got it?" Shego asked.
Kim nodded, words still not forming, stepping away from the table and standing fully upright, but did not make any eye contact. She heard Shego pick through the balls, and then, a gentle pressure against her chest. Kim looked down, finding the solid green number 6 ball in her hands. She let out a soft laugh, the warmth of the gesture catching her off guard.
Feeling playful, she sifted through the remaining balls before plucking out the solid red number 3 and offering it to Shego. Their fingers brushed as Shego accepted it, her lips curving into something softer than a smirk.
"Cute," Shego murmured, tilting her head slightly, her voice holding an almost teasing warmth.
Shego took a deep breath while twirling the ball currently in her hand. "Alright, let’s lag."
Kim lifted a brow. "A lag?"
Shego’s eyes flickered with amusement. "Don’t play coy. I know you know what that is." Still, she explained, drawing out the details as if savoring them. Kim only hummed in response, letting Shego have her moment.
Side by side, they set their balls behind the head string, fingers steady against the cool surface. The room felt smaller somehow, as if it had shrunk around them, forcing them closer. The balls shot forward at the same time, rebounding off the foot cushion before racing back toward the head cushion. Shego’s ball stopped just short of the mark. Kim’s? A fraction of an inch too far.
Shego smirked, twirling her cue stick.
"Guess you break."
"Damn right."
Kim let her shoulders relax; the bait was set.
They both leaned over the table, surveying the smooth felt and perfectly placed balls. Shego removed the triangle and tapped the tip of her cue against the edge of her thumb, thinking. "Alright, what are the rules?"
Kim crossed her arms, pretending to consider. "Standard rules. You break, so you choose solids or stripes. Scratching on the eight-ball is an automatic loss."
"Sure." Shego hummed in approval and nodded for Kim to continue.
"Alright, but let’s add a little spice. If one of us sinks a shot, the other has to answer a question. If you miss, you drink." Kim thinks a bit more, though, “No, I got it. If you miss, you have to answer a question.” Kim nodded, satisfied with her rules.
Shego arched a brow, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Risky, huh? I’m game." She barely paused, a glint in her eyes as a thought struck her. "But there’s one more thing. You’ve gotta call your shot. Only the shots you wager matter—So if you call it and sink one, the other answers your question. Miss it, and the other person asks a question. But if you don’t wager and make it, you don’t get to ask a question."
“So questions only happen if you bet on your shot?” Kim asks for clarification
“Exactly,” Shego declares. Shego watches as Kim thinks of something else.
“We should ask the question before we take the shot. It will add more weight to the game.” Kim adds.
Shego smiles.
They nodded in agreement, sealing the rules with a handshake. Shego stepped up, leaning over the table, her movements fluid and a bit predatory. Kim watched as she broke the rack, the sharp crack of the balls colliding, filling the space between them. The game officially began, and the tension between them began tighter. For the first few minutes, the only sounds were the quiet clinks of the balls, the occasional sip of a drink, and the unspoken weight between them. Eventually, wagers were made.
“Right corner pocket,” Shego says matter-of-factly but still takes the time to line up her shot. Confident in her position, she asks, "What’s your standard drink order?" Shego stops squinting, indicating she is locked in at the perfect angle.
In no time, Shego took her shot. The ball rolled smoothly, kissed the corner pocket, and disappeared. Shego straightened, looking at Kim with a glint in her eye.
Kim smiled. "Vodka soda with a lime."
"Figures," Shego muttered. She didn’t bet on her next shot, which is good because she missed it. "Your turn." Shego frowned. Shego didn’t want to blame it on the alcohol, but she was beginning to think she was feeling something. She thought about stopping after this drink but smiled to herself. Now, where is the fun in that?
Kim, who was walking around the table, finally paused. She found her next move. She called her shot and asked Shego a painless question, “How did you learn to play pool?” Kim went through the motions and lined up her shot, but it was purposefully just a little off. The ball missed, knocking against the rail. Kim forgot to pretend to be disappointed, but it seems Shego didn’t catch it.
Shego smirked. "Alright, my question. How long are you in New Orleans?"
Kim considered her answer. "Not sure. I have a couple more weeks, but…I guess I can stay as long as I want."
Shego hummed, stepping back to let Kim walk past her.
Shego wagered the next shot, but she lost. Kim’s next question had more weight. "Why are you here in New Orleans?"
Shego exhaled through her nose, taking her time as she lined up a shot. "Needed a change of scenery."
"That’s vague," Kim said after she missed her next shot.
"That’s my answer," Shego countered, sinking a ball.
Finally, Kim leaned on her cue stick, eyes locking onto Shego. "Alright. My turn."
She lined up her shot, took it—and sank it clean.
Shego raised a brow.
Kim positioned herself again, but this time, she wagered. “Middle left pocket.” Kim pointed to the pocket with her cue stick. Shego nodded and waited. Kim thought about asking Shego the night's big question but held off.
"Well?"
“Are you currently working for someone?” Kim asked as she shot the ball. It fell a little too smoothly for Shego’s liking.
“You know I work for Drakken.”
“Right upper pocket,” Kim stated, walking around the table.
Wait. Shego thought. She hasn’t aimed yet.
“Why did you leave with me tonight?” The ball rolled in before Kim even finished the sentence.
Shit. She played me. Shego took a swig, a big swing of her drink.
“I didn’t feel like staying with Mark. You seemed like the better option.” Shego tried to sound casual, but she knew she didn’t.
“Bottom right pocket.” There was barely a pause. “Why did you help me take care of my friends tonight.” This ball went in so fast that Shego almost missed seeing it.
“When you led me to the restaurant, it was clear you didn’t want to deal with all the drunk girls. You bailed me out with Mark and the bar scene. I didn’t want to owe you or anything, so I bailed you out from having all that responsibility.” Shego didn’t have a hard time lying. In fact, the lies spilled out of her so fast that for a split second, Shego was proud of herself. However, this time, that pride was gone just as fast as it came, and she felt her heart start racing. Shego felt guilty.
Shego was on edge. Kim knew it. Kim had her right where she wanted. “Bottom right pocket, again.”
“Kim..” Shego trailed, but Kim ignored her.
“Why did you get in a fight with Mark? Your answer can’t be because he was annoying.” Shego didn’t even look at the table; she heard the ball hit two walls and sink into the pocket.
“You can tell me what I can or can’t say.”
“Well, I just did.” Kim had absolutely no idea where all this bravado was coming from, but she wasn’t disappointed. She was fed up with Shego being so aloof. She didn’t even know she was frustrated until Shego started lying. Over and over and over, with each word, Kim got more and more irritated.
Shego huffed out a breath and looked up. “Kimmie, he was not taking no for an answer. He was a sleaze.” Shego looked at Kim for the last part of her response, “He had no right to touch me.”
Kim didn’t react to Shego’s response. In fact, Shego assumed Kim ignored her answer completely.
“Middle right,” Kim said. Then she sat on the edge of the table.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shego thought. As Kim sat on the table, she all but confirmed that she played Shego.
Kim sat on the edge of the table, her body angled slightly to the side as she rested her right hand firmly on the cue stick behind her back. Her right leg was bent at the knee, her left foot flat on the floor for balance, creating a natural lean. With her dominant right hand gripping the stick, her posture looked unorthodox, but it gave her the perfect angle to strike the ball. To anyone watching, it was an odd but impressive sight—her focus sharp, her movements deliberate, as she seemed to have no trouble making the awkward position work to her advantage. The cue stick, arched behind her, was an unexpected yet calculated twist on the usual stance, and it was clear that this unusual approach was her best shot at sinking the ball.
Kim inhaled, holding Shego’s gaze. "Why were you following me tonight?"
The air seemed to shift. Shego’s face faltered, her grip tightening on the cue stick. "What?"
“And don’t insult my intelligence by lying any more than you have tonight. I know you haven’t been answering my questions truthfully.” Kim spoke in a tone that Shego couldn’t place.
Shego seemed to start a few sentences, but nothing came out. Shego truly did not know what to say.
Kim tilted her head slightly. "I knew the whole time. You weren’t exactly subtle."
Shego’s jaw clenched, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. Caught. She felt its weight, like a rope tightening around her neck. Kim had nailed the shot, and there was no mistaking it—Kim was waiting. Waiting for Shego to crack. Shego could feel the air between them thin, the tension thickening, suffocating. Kim didn’t gloat, didn’t smile. She simply stood there, eyes locked on her with a quiet expectation, daring Shego to answer.
This felt less like a question and more like a statement. It was an ‘ I know what you did.’ It was a dare, a challenge, and Shego was caught in the snare.
Kim stepped forward, her voice dropping low, thick with purpose. "This is where you give me a truthful answer."
And damn it, Shego could feel the pressure rising. Shego exhaled slowly, setting her cue stick against the table. The game no longer mattered. Kim didn’t move, waiting. Watching.
Shego ran a hand through her hair, looking at Kim. For a second, Kim almost retreated. Shego looked different—distressed, almost small in a way Kim had never seen before. The usual sharp confidence in her eyes had dulled, replaced by something uncertain. Kim’s stomach twisted as she watched Shego bite her lip, her fingers fidgeting, tangling, and untangling as if trying to ground herself. She was anxious. That much was clear. Kim wondered if Shego was silently begging her to call off this interrogation before it unearthed something Shego didn’t want out.
“I don’t know. Curiosity, maybe? I didn’t plan for tonight.” Shego told a half-truth. She truly had no real plan for the night.
Kim didn’t believe her. Not entirely. But she let it sit between them, heavy and unspoken.
Shego grabbed her drink and took a long sip as if she could wash away whatever this was between them.
Kim merely waited for whatever came next.
“You’re not buying it,” Shego muttered, her voice quieter than usual. It wasn’t a question.
Kim’s jaw tightened. “No, I’m not.”
Shego let out a sharp breath, setting her very empty drink down more forceful than necessary. "Of course you’re not." She crossed her arms, fingers digging into her sleeves, her stance defensive but her voice lacking its usual bite. "Because when something doesn’t fit into your neat little logic puzzle, you just keep pushing until you get the answer you want, right?"
Kim’s eyes darkened. "When someone like you, who lies their way out of everything?" She gestured vaguely at Shego, her fingers twitched, and her weight shifted the alcohol hitting her. "Yeah. I push."
Shego scoffed, but it was weak. Her gaze flickered away for a second, then back. "And what if you’re wrong Possible? What if I am telling you the truth right now?”
Kim didn’t back down. Instead, she stepped closer. "If you were telling the truth you wouldn’t be playing defense right now. You would be doubling down, and on the offensive side of this conversation. But we both know that’s not whats happening right now."
Shego exhaled sharply through her nose, shaking her head as if Kim was being impossible. “Kimmie, I hate to break it to you, but that is the truth.”
Kim’s patience snapped, the restraint she’d been holding onto unraveling in an instant. She was close now, close enough that Shego could feel the heat radiating off her. The space between them had become unbearable, suffocating, like a pressure was building—something Kim could no longer contain.
She stepped forward, her chest heaving, hands clenched. “Stop pretending, Shego. Stop acting like I’m just some clueless kid. I want to know whats goin on,” she spat, each word landing like a blow.
Shego didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat, but Kim saw the faintest tightening of her posture—a defensive move, an instinctive one. Kim couldn’t care less. She was done waiting for the answers. She also knew part of this was the alcohol talking. She could feel her emotions heightened, but she wouldn't blame this on the liquor. Kim knew that deep down, she truly felt this strongly, whether it was liquid courage or not.
“Why were you following me?” Kim demanded, her voice loud and sharp. “Why the hell were you watching me? Do you think I wouldn’t notice? Why have you flirted with me, huh? What’s your game, Shego? Who hired you?” She could feel the words pulsing through her, building up faster than she could control.
Shego’s eyes narrowed slightly, her lips pressed tight as though she were carefully measuring each moment. But she didn’t answer.
Kim stepped closer, chest almost touching Shego’s, her fists trembling with frustration. She wasn’t thinking about the consequences anymore. All she could focus on was the gnawing questions that had been eating away at her. "And Mark—why’d you beat him up? Why did you put your hands on him?” Kim’s voice cracked, raw with anger and confusion. She couldn’t understand why Shego had done that. She had been dancing with Mark just hours ago, yet Shego had gone after him physically.
Shego’s jaw clenched, her gaze flickering toward the ground before she met Kim’s eyes again, steely and distant. She was silent.
“Don’t act like you did it for nothing,” Kim pressed. “What the hell happened, Shego? What you saw me with Mark, and you didn’t think I handled it correctly?”
A flicker of something crossed Shego’s face—regret? Guilt? But it was gone so quickly that Kim wasn’t sure if she imagined it. Shego’s voice, when it came, was calm but edged with something colder. “Not everything is about you. Mark had nothing to do with you.”
“Great! Then why?”
“I told you!” Shego’s voice was getting louder, “he was a sleaze that wouldn’t take no for an answer!”
“No.” Kim held the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. “No! Shego, we have known each other for years. You’re lying. Stop lying!” There was a desperation in her voice that Shego never heard before.
“Kim. Why is this question important?”
“No, don’t you dare try and turn this back on me. Please, Shego. I want to know.”
“So do I.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t,” Shego swallowed, “I was already mad at him before I met him. I wasn’t lying before. He uses women; he doesn’t take no for an answer. He was aggressive and assertive with me. At that moment, it all boiled up.” Shego chooses her following words carefully, “I wasn’t okay with the idea… that he was acting the same way with you as he was with me.”
“How was he acting with you?” Kim asked.
Shego ignored her question, “It was instinct Kim. I just- I wanted him to… I don’t know!”
Kim didn’t have time for Shego’s games. Her hands shot out, pushing against Shego’s chest, not in an attempt to start a fight, but to create space—space for her to get the answers she was desperate for.
Shego took a step back, only slightly, her hands held out defensively. It wasn’t a challenge; it was a retreat. But Kim didn’t back down.
“I’m not some helpless kid,” Kim's voice dripping with venom. “I can handle myself. I don’t need you protecting me, Shego.” She wasn’t sure where the words were coming from, but they felt right. She didn’t need anyone to defend her. Especially not Shego.
But Shego’s gaze darkened, and for a split second, it almost seemed like something was unraveling inside her. Shego took a breath, and when she spoke, her voice was loud, sharp, almost a shout. “I know you are not a helpless kid! I know. Believe me, I know you are no longer a kid!”
Kim froze. The words hit harder than anything else Shego had said. Shego admitted that Kim was no longer just a kid to her. More importantly, it seemed Shego was actually opening up now.
“I didn’t want to fight Mark,” Shego continued, her hands now slightly raised as though she were trying to make herself understood. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone. But it just... happened. I couldn’t watch him get close to you… Not like that, and then do nothing about it. I thought—I swear I had no intention of hitting him, but then he kept on provoking me, and I couldn’t stop because I didn’t want to. I know it was going too far.” Shego’s voice was rough now, raw, as if every word pained her. “I was trying to make him regret what he did tonight, Kim.”
Kim recoiled, stepping back, the weight of Shego’s admission crashing into her. The anger, the confusion—it all swirled together, leaving Kim feeling more lost than she’d ever felt before. It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but it was the one Shego gave her. It was the truth, it had to be.
“To protect me? To defend what? My honor?” Kim repeated, almost incredulous. “I never asked you to. I never needed you to fight my battles for me.”
But Shego’s eyes were desperate now. “I didn’t plan to fight for you! It. Just. Happened.” she shouted.
Kim shook her head, the surge of frustration only intensifying. She didn’t know what to believe. She didn’t know what was real anymore. “I don’t need your help. I can handle things on my own.”
Shego’s expression softened for the briefest moment, as if something inside her was breaking. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by something darker, something Kim couldn’t quite place.
“I know you can,” Shego murmured, more to herself than to Kim, her voice quiet but intense. “But it happened. Even if you didn’t want me to.”
Kim took a step back, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She didn’t know if Shego was lying if she was telling the truth, or if she was just spinning another web. But at that moment, Kim couldn’t figure it out. She only knew one thing: more than anything, tonight made her feel lost.
Kim’s fingers tightened around the cool glass as she watched Shego sip her whiskey, the ice clinking softly. The warmth of the alcohol had settled in her veins, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging in her chest.
"You never answered my question." Kim's voice was quieter now, but no less firm. When she saw the flicker of something on Shego’s face—hesitation, maybe even guilt—she added, "From earlier. Why were you following me?"
Shego exhaled through her nose, eyes flicking down at her drink. "Kim, I don’t know."
Kim sighed, rubbing her temple. "Shego, I am too tired for this. Just tell me."
Shego swirled the whiskey in her glass, then looked up, meeting Kim’s gaze head-on. "Kim. I. Don’t. Know. Drakken said to keep tabs on you, so I did."
Kim scoffed. "You didn’t ask why?"
"No."
Kim set her vodka soda down on the pool table with a soft clink, crossing her arms. "So, what? You just said, ‘Sure, Drakken! Let me do recon for you, but don’t worry, I won’t ask any questions, and I’ll do it willingly!’" Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
Shego chuckled, shaking her head. "No, not quite like that, but I did accept the mission."
"Why?" Kim pressed, eyes narrowing.
Shego leaned against the counter, taking a slow sip before answering. "Would you believe me if I said it was because I wanted to know what was up with you?" She tilted her head, watching Kim closely.
Kim hesitated, the burn of the vodka still tingling on her tongue. "Perhaps?" It came out more as a question than a statement.
Shego smirked. "What’s that mean?"
"It means, tell me more."
Shego rolled the ice in her glass, her expression unreadable. "Well, I hadn’t seen you in a while, and this mission seemed easy enough. Follow, don’t engage. Plus, so what if someone wants me to keep an eye on you? Isn’t that, like, a compliment?"
Kim ignored the last part. "So this mission to just watch me—you’re not even curious why?"
"No, I am," Shego admitted, her voice softening slightly. "But I’m also certain I’ll get the answer eventually. I’m not always in a rush to know things, Kimmie." Her words were laced with something deeper, something Kim couldn’t quite place.
Kim exhaled, studying her. "So, you followed me because someone asked and because you wanted to?"
Shego didn’t answer right away. Instead, she picked up both their glasses—Kim’s now mostly melted ice, hers still holding amber liquid—and walked them over to the counter. The sound of liquid pouring was the only thing between them for a moment. Kim stayed where she was, still leaning against the pool table, feeling the weight of the alcohol settle into her limbs. Shego poured herself another whiskey—neat this time—and then, after barely a second of thought, mixed Kim a vodka soda, strong enough that Kim could smell it before Shego even handed it to her.
Kim arched a brow. "No lime?"
Shego smirked. "Didn’t want to add to the sourness—you had that covered earlier."
Kim shook her head but took the drink, pressing the rim to her lips as Shego moved towards the couch, watching her.
Shego smirked as she sat down, sipping her drink. "Good thing I showed up when I did, though. One Kim versus three drunk girls? Seems like a battle you’d have inevitably lost."
Kim rolled her eyes, taking a sip. "What, and you think you would’ve won alone?"
Shego held up her hands in mock defense. "Whoa, hey! I’m just saying."
Kim fought a smile. For all the tension that had filled the room earlier, this—this felt different. Lighter. Still charged, but without the weight of irritation pressing down on them.
Shego took a sip of her drink, eyeing Kim over the rim of her glass. “You always this tense, or is it just around me?”
Kim scoffed, rolling her glass between her hands. “What can I say, you bring it out in me.”
Shego lightly laughed. “I have that effect on people.”
Kim shot her a look. “I’m sure.”
Shego tilted her head. “So what’s the deal, anyway? You’re just partying during your time off?”
Kim let out a breathy laugh. “Hey, time off is time off. Besides, I promised Monique I’d go out with her. Didn’t expect it to end in a breaking up a brawl.”
“You should know better by now.” Shego leaned back against the couch, stretching her legs out, the tip of her boot grazing Kim’s ankle. “For you? It’s no surprise people start swinging.”
Kim raised an eyebrow. “Smooth, Shego Smooth,” Kim says flatly, her cheeks already red from the alcohol. Kim adds though, “I could say the same thing about you.”
Shego shrugged. “We do have an obvious difference you know… I invite the trouble. I like trouble.”
Kim shook her head, taking another sip of her drink. The vodka burned a little less now, or maybe she was just getting used to it. Or, and this was more likely, she was drunk. “So, what do you do when you’re not, you know… doing evil henchwoman stuff?”
Shego made a face. “First of all, rude! Me a henchwoman? No, no.” She took another sip of whiskey before continuing. “But to answer your question—wouldn’t you like to know?”
Kim rolled her eyes. “I asked, didn’t I?”
Shego considered her for a moment, then shrugged. “Nothing that exciting. I work out, I sleep, I watch TV.” She took another sip. “I kick Drakken’s ass at Mario Kart.”
Kim’s eyebrows shot up. “You-” Kim blinks, “Drakken plays Mario Kart?”
“Oh, he thinks he does,” Shego chuckled. “Dude’s convinced he’s some kind of strategic mastermind, but put him on Rainbow Road, and he falls off every five seconds.”
Kim laughed, genuinely amused at the thought. “You’d think he’d know how to take shortcuts.”
“Right?” Shego leaned in slightly, her voice conspiratorial. “One time, he got so mad, he threw the controller and swore the game was ‘rigged by the feds.’”
Kim nearly choked on her drink. “No way.”
“Swear on my plasma.” Shego held up a hand, grinning.
Kim shook her head, still laughing. “You should’ve recorded it.”
“Oh, I did.” Shego’s smirk widened. “For blackmail purposes.”
Kim just stared at her, then shook her head with a smirk of her own. “You’re ridiculous.”
Shego shrugged. “You love it.”
Kim opened her mouth to argue—but hesitated. Because, honestly? She didn’t hate this. Sitting here, talking like this. The air between them had shifted, something playful threading between the words, replacing the sharp edges from earlier.
At some point, they ended up on the couch, their bodies angled toward each other. Kim’s head rested against the cushion, her limbs pleasantly warm—not just from the vodka, but from Shego’s presence beside her.
Their knees kept knocking together, neither of them moving away.
Kim swirled the last of her drink, breaking the quiet. “So.”
Shego glanced over. “So?”
"So, I'm not imagining this right; you’ve been all... charming and whatnot." Kim started.
“Where you headed with this Princess?”
“Just trying to figure out how drunk I am,” Kim said smoothly, surprising herself with how steady she felt despite the alcohol fogging her thoughts.
Shego gave a low chuckle, swaying a bit in her seat. “Drunk? Please. You’re not even close to my level.”
Kim’s grin widened, leaning back in her seat with a half-laugh, half-scoff. “Hey! I never said that! Er, implied it. But if I’m not imagining things, then maybe you’ve been laying it on a little thick.”
Shego leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with playful mischief. “Maybe I just enjoy watching you squirm.”
Kim laughed louder than she meant to, but the atmosphere felt light and hazy, her words slipping out with less caution than she intended. Shego’s eyes never left hers, the unspoken challenge hanging in the air, thick with that tipsy energy.
Kim’s lips parted, but before she could respond, a heavy thud echoed from down the hall, followed by the frantic shuffle of footsteps.
Both women turned toward the sound. Then—
"Oh, no," Kim muttered as the unmistakable sound of a toilet seat slamming up reached them.
Then came the retching.
Shego winced. "Well, that’s unfortunate."
Kim groaned, already getting to her feet. "Monique."
Shego smirked. "Want me to get that?"
Kim was already halfway to the terrace when she called over her shoulder, "Yes, please."
Shego snorted but pushed off the couch, making her way toward the bathroom.
Kim stepped outside, sucking in the cool air, rubbing her temples.
She stepped out onto the terrace for some fresh air, rubbing her temples. The night had gone in a direction she hadn’t anticipated, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Not even 5 minutes later—
"HEY! What the hell are you doing here?!" Monique’s voice cut through the night air.
Kim turned just in time to see Monique stumbling out of the bathroom, looking much more alert than before. The haze of alcohol had lifted enough for her to put the pieces together.
Shego was still standing near the hallway, grinning, clearly entertained.
Monique’s eyes darted from Shego to Kim, then back again. "Kimmmmmmm!"
Crap. Monique was sober enough now. Before, when she was drunk, she’d recognized Shego but hadn’t thought much of it. Now? Different story.
She crossed her arms, fixing Kim with a pointed stare. "You have a lot of explaining to do."
Kim sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah... I was just having that conversation with Shego."