Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Disney does. (Blast them!)
This is an addition to the KP episode, Truth Hurts. They didn't show what happened to Drakken and Shego. Kind of left me hanging. I know they only had time for so much, but I can't help wondering. R&E (read and enjoy).
III
The ice that Shego and Drakken had been sitting on was cut into a chunk and tipped over, giving them to the mercy of the Artic Ocean. Kim, Ron, and Dr. Wong were transported safely back to Middleton by helicopter.
The water felt like a slap to the face, stinging and raw. If the frozen tundra hadn't woke her up, a dip in sub-zero water definitely did. Nice, Kimmi, she thought; give us hypothermia instead of tie us up for usual. A little pneumonia never killed anyone.
Her body spasmed, reminding her that even if her suit was waterproof, insulated, and sprouted ice skates on command there was no head protection. The sudden dip had given her no time to suck in extra air and she slowly commanded her numb limbs to kick and claw towards the surface. She pushed the ice chunk up, coughing and shivering as she surfaced.
"Dr. D, I gotta say out of all of our lairs, this one's the worst. Told you we should've gone for the sub-Atlantic dome." Her chiding wasn't answered by a weak defense, or a childish "nnnrg". She glanced around, "Dr. D?"
The news was worse than the water. She didn't even take a gulp of air before forcing herself back down, her eyes stinging as she opened them. There was something, a dark blue, slowly descending towards the unknown like a speck of dust in the light. Ignoring her body's objections, she dove down, chasing after him as she lost feeling in various parts of her face. Her arms hooked under his and she allowed her body to return to its natural get-the-frick-out-of-danger instincts.
The ice block… The ice block. Her head pressed against it, but it wasn't enough pressure. No, no she wasn't going to die trapped under the ice because some teenage cheerleader had the foresight of a gambling addict! She freed one arm and started putting her razor-tipped gloves to use, clawing at the obstruction like a dog begging to be let outside. It was truly a last resort; dull blades made her feel vulnerable, and good files for nails like that were hard to come by.
Just as her vision began to blur, she cleared enough to tilt it up, dragging her and her boss onto dry icy land. She didn't like the way she coughed and sputtered and gasped, but who was going to judge her? It was a miracle she could even function.
Her black hair clung to her pale skin, stiffening rapidly. Building a lair out of ice was officially Drakken's worst idea yet. She glanced down at him. He was unresponsive, lying still on his back and frowning slightly. She watched his chest, but there was no rise or fall. She checked his pulse. Faint, erratic. She pressed her ear over his torso, just in case.
He wasn't breathing.
Shego swore. Of course this was happening. A normal day was just too much to ask for. Again with the instincts, she started chest compressions. Who knew she'd use anything from health class? Closest she'd ever come to administering first aid to anyone else was nearly having to give Hego the Heimlich maneuver when he ate too fast at Go Buffett…
Her lips were on his, breathing her warm air into him. There was nothing romantic about the gesture; she had his nose pinched shut and she was blowing her breath into his mouth for god's sake. But, as she went back to chest compressions, she felt a little warmth on her cheeks.
God, Shego, this isn't elementary school, she chided herself. You're just saving a man's life, resuscitating him because he can't stand to lose any more brain cells. He doesn't have cooties, and you aren't getting all "first base" with him.
She didn't usually pay any attention to his complexion but dammit that blue skin wasn't helping her figure out if she was going to be out of an ongoing gig.
There was a light sputter, not strong enough to be a cough and she couldn't help but glare at his unconscious body. Like he was rejecting her lifesaving breath or something. Apparently CPR wasn't just useless information, as his lungs started to work on their own. She didn't have to glance over the classifieds in Villain's Digest after all.
The clatter of her teeth reminded her they weren't out of the fire yet. They needed warmth, dry clothes, shelter from the elements… She'd have to drive his out-of-it blue carcass to a more secure lair. Much more taxing, she'd have to figure out how to get the hood of the UFO up.
III
Dr. Drakken regained consciousness, but his bearings were still lost. Where was he? What had happened? And why couldn't he move? He adjusted his head to see he was cocooned in a sea of blankets, lying near a fireplace in an enclosed building. But they had been in the Artic, with ice, and an ice fortress!
Something moved inside the cocoon. Something that wasn't his.
"Shego!" He exclaimed. She turned her head from his shoulder to look into his eyes, very similar to an annoyed house cat, "I demand an explanation! Where's Dr. Wong? Or the stolen technology? Most importantly…why are we under the covers together?"
Shego sighed and adjusted again. He felt flannel against cotton.
"Same old same old. Kimmi found us, we fought, she dunked us under the ice like a carnival game…"
"Nnnrg, Kim Possible… I thought for sure her moderate winter experiences would be a disadvantage against a frozen wasteland. And you haven't explained why you're touching me." She shrugged.
"Simple science. Quickest and easiest way to get warm is transfer of body heat. You're lucky you aren't a cube with the protection that tacky outfit of yours offers."
"My outfit is not…" He trailed off, "Why don't I remember going under?"
"You passed out. Had to save your sorry blue behind from drowning. Honestly, can't you swim?"
"Of course I can, I was just in shock," he licked his lips, "…why do I taste mint?"
Shego stared, then flushed.
"That's my lip balm."
"…what on earth…"
"You weren't breathing, moron, so I gave you CPR!" She squirmed, trying to free herself from the blanket enclosure, "You'd rather me let you die?"
"Shego, wait…"
"You've got lips of rubber and your breath reeks." She hissed, breaking the cocoon and walking away. He blinked, watching her leave uncomprehendingly.
Surely she realized that he realized that it was just drastic measures, not desires that drove her to touch him so intimately. Yet, as he knew this… Something giddy roiled in his stomach, as though he had just been kissed.
III
Drakken knocked. He was answered with a growl. He took that as permission and entered. Shego had gone back to caring for her own being, wrapped up in her bed and sipping at some orange juice as though preventing a cold. She glanced at the tray in his hands suspiciously.
"Is it poisoned?" She asked. Drakken rolled his eyes.
"Why would I poison you? It takes a long time to properly train my employees and I expect a good investment to come out of you." He set the tray in her lap.
She glared down at it.
"What's this?"
"A thank-you." He twiddled his thumbs, "I know that…what you did… It wasn't in your job description…"
"Heck no it wasn't."
"…but I appreciate it nonetheless."
The smell of a well-made grilled cheese was a strong temptation to accept Drakken's offer; either by chance or memory he had guessed pepper jack…correctly. Cheese had been painstakingly placed with care to form a melted smiley face floating on top of a pool of tomato soup.
Sick food. Comfort food. Home food.
She drowned the smiley face, making Drakken's own grin vanish.
"Why can't you give me a raise like a normal boss?" She muttered, no venom or irritation in her voice. Just…fatigue.
Dr. Drakken straightened.
"I'd like to think I'm a bit more personal than shelling out extra money to deserving lackeys."
"More like you're too cheap."
"…that too."
She brought her spoon up, blew across it, then swallowed. Drakken took her going for a second bite a sign of acceptance of his culinary work. Drakken bowed his head.
"Well, let's hope that we both avoid any fall-out to Team Possible's recklessness. If we do, you can expect a counter attack A.S.A.P."
He turned his back to her, going to leave.
"Dr. D." He stood still, waiting as Shego tried to find the words, "Technically…it is in my contract to protect you. For anything. …and it might've been the conditions that gave you rubbery lips."
He grinned at her admission.
"Nancy Mulligan from the seventh grade certainly didn't think there was anything "rubbery" about them." He bragged.
Le End
January 2012: I really enjoyed reworking this premise after…seven, eight years. It was fun to write this as much more IC, more scientifically correct, not force this to be a romance, etc. Just playful banter after an intense situation, and some hints. Sadly, no Avril Lavigne lyrics either. I think that's what bummed me out the most about the edited version. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!