"IF THIS BE A DREAM..."
A Kim Possible Fanfic
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: I don't own jack...or Kim, or Ron, ect. Disney Owns All. Of course, if I DID own KP, we might be talkin' about Season Six by now...
A/N..This scene takes place about 6 months after Doc and Shego begin their romantic relationship.
Something was amiss.
It was just at the edge of Drew's perception, which in itself was was unusual. He shouldn't have been able to sense anything, it being after 2 am and he being sound asleep. Drew was one of those people blessed with the abilty to fall into a deep sleep 5 minutes after hitting the pillow, and being fully awake and ready for the day 5 minutes after rising. In other words, he normally slept like a rock. Yet, there it was, whatever it was, rudely dragging him to consciousness.
Cracking open his right eye, Drew gave a quick look, while sniffing the air. "Hmmm...no smoke, no lights...". Curiosity was now kicking in, and as he opened both eyes and sat up, he gave a slight shiver. The last of the cobwebs in his mind cleared, and a small smile appeared, as he looked to his right to the source of this mystery.
Shego lay sleeping on her side, cuddling a pilow, her raven mane restrained for bed with three hair ties. It was a sight that Drew had come to treasure, as he always woke before her, and would spend the first few minutes of the new day just watching her sleep. This middle of the night preview was considered a bonus, but wasn't the reason he was smiling.
There were two reasons for the chill that had disturbed his sleep. First was the fact that he only wore the bottoms of his PJs now, Shea having commandeered the tops for herself. Drew wholeheartedly agreed that she looked better in them, anyway. The second, and greater, reason was that somehow Shea had managed to gather all the blankets around herself in a kind of cocoon. Drew just shook his head in wonder. How could a woman with the ability to bio-generate plasma measured in degrees Kelvin, be such a notorious blanket hog?
He really didn't want to wake her. Unlike himself, Shea took at least a half hour and two cups of coffee before she was civil in the morning. Rousing her now would be weapons-grade stupid, and why volunteer to get one's butt kicked every day? Working with much patience, Drew slowly untangled the blankets from around the drowsing woman. It took almost 15 minutes, but Drew was nothing if not persistent. Finally regaining his share of the blankets, he settled back into his pillows, closed his eyes, and began to drift off.
*WHHIIPPP*!!!
Drew's eyes snapped open as he slowly sat up. He cocked his right eyebrow and nodded his head in understanding and admiration. Like a magician snatching a tablecloth out from under a full place setting, Shea had gathered all the blankets to herself once again with a speed and ease that, had he not seen it, he would not have believed possible. Looking to his right, Shea seemed no different than before, with one exception...the shaking bed, caused by her unsuccessful attempt to stifle her giggles.
"So, you want to play, eh?", said Drew, and lunged.
"No, NO, Drew that's not fair! GHAAH!!!"
It's a fairly well-known fact that people possessed of strong passions are likely to be quite ticklish, and Shea was gloriously so. Drew used this knowledge to good effect as he took advantage of a rare tactical error on Shea's part. By wrapping herself up in the blankets, she was unable to defend herself against Drew's tickle attack. She was completely at his mercy.
"Give up?"
"You wish!"
"Yield, I say!"
"NEVER!"
*WHUMP*!!!
Shea had managed to free one arm and, grabbing one of the pillows, clocked Drew square in the face, knocking him backwards.
"Oho, breaking out the heavy artillery, are we? ATTACK!"
"NOOO! Drew Lipsky, you evil, rotten, no good...AAAAAHH!!!"
Of the five people in the World that knew Shea was ticklish, only two had ever gone after her feet. Of those two, only one had come away unharmed, and Drew was counting on it remaining that way. Once he got to her feet, the battle was won, the War over. All that remained was the signing of the peace accords and exchange of prisoners.
"Drew, stop, stop, please...I'm gonna pee myself! I give...I give...I give!"
Reluctanly letting go of her feet, Drew flopped back onto his side of the bed, laughing like a sugared-up eight year old. Shea slowly regained her senses and rolled toward him, where he gathered her into his waiting arms. As soon as they would calm down, one of them would chuckle, setting them both off on a giggling fit. The bed was a wreck, the blankets kicked off onto the floor. By unspoken agreement, they decided to leave them there until they learned their lesson.
Shea snuggled closer to Drew, having found a replacement for the pillow she cuddled earlier. With a deep, contented sigh, she closed her eyes.
"Goof", she said.
"Brat", he replied.
Drew could feel her smile against his chest, and soon after, her regular breathing told him she was asleep. Once again he was able to indulge in what was becoming his favorite pastime. As he began to drift off, Drew thought to himself, not for the first time and certainly not the last...
"If this be a dream, please don't let me wake."