Drakken wakes up yawning. He sits up, throws his covers off and puts his feet down on the floor. The two normally colored feet automatically start searching for shelter. His slippers. The mad scientist groans as he opens his eyes, remembering that he's not home in his own bed. The bedroom window is letting in way too much sunlight for his taste. Drakken's never really been too fond of the sun. He likes artificial light better. There's no real reason why, he just does. Stretching and scratching his back he yawns a second time before standing up entirely. He has a lot to do if he and Shego are ever going to get back home. Speaking of her, he wants to see how she's doing. After a long argument filled with bickering from both sides it was decided that she'd take the couch, at least for the first night. The reasons provided were that unlike the bed the couch was centrally located, making it a shorter distance to anywhere else in the apartment, and that she needed to keep her leg high, on the armrest that is, to prevent any more swelling. Quietly leaving the bedroom Drakken tiptoes over to the couch where he finds his assistant still in a deep slumber. He contemplates waking her up but decides that after what happened yesterday she deserves her rest, for now. Once again the madman heads into the kitchen. It's time to make breakfast.

Shego mumbles as she slowly awakens. Her eyes flutter as the smell of hot coffee, scrambled eggs and toast fill her nostrils. Rubbing sleep out of her eyes she tries standing up, only to be reminded of her injury. Hissing in pain she carefully lifts herself up into a sitting position and places her feet on the coffee table in front of her.

Drakken slowly appears in the kitchen doorway, holding a tray in his hands. "You're up."

"Wanna medal for noticin'?"

Her boss sends her an annoyed look before setting the tray down in front of her. "Here."

The villainess wasn't sure what to say. No one outside her family had really ever made her breakfast before. Heck, she's not much of a cook herself. She survives on microwave dinners and takeout, and the occasional dinner at fancy restaurants. It's basically been years since the last time she had two homemade meals in just as many days. She silently picks up a piece of buttered toast and starts chewing on it.

"My ankle's feeling a little better. Still aching though."

"And the cuts?"

Shego shrugs. "They sting."

"You're right about your ankle," Drakken tells her as he kneels down and inspects it more closely. "The swelling's gone down."

"So… What are our plans today?"

"We're almost out of food and I need new clothes."

Shego tries getting up, but Drakken places a hand on her shoulder holding her down. "Your job today is to rest that leg. Let it heal."

His assistant frowns as she goes back to her plate of food. Sitting still all day isn't exactly what she has in mind. Even when sick she moves around, if only just a little, unless there's a high fever involved.

"So what're you gonna do?" she asks. "Knock over this place's version of a Smarty Mart? Something tells me things work a little different around here." The villainess motions at her wounded leg.

"Which is why I'm going to buy what I need." Drakken informs her. "I just need to find a way to get the money."

Shego smirks. "Sell off one of your kidneys?"

Drakken lights up like a 100 watt bulb. "Shego! That's brilliant!"

She goes silent. Then she blinks. Once. Twice. Three times. His words replay over and over again inside her head. She has to ask. She's not sure she wants to know the answer but she just has to ask. "What?"

"What 'what'?"

"What's brilliant?"

"That's how I'll get the money we need! I'll sell the boy's things!" Drakken lifts his arms in the air triumphantly.

"Hate to tell ya, Doc," Shego tells him. "But look around. This kid isn't exactly a Martin Smarty."

"So?"

"So I doubt this ratty couch I'm sitting on is worth much. I doubt anything in the apartment's worth more than fifty bucks."

Her boss grins at her. "Probably not, but I have an idea."

"Oh boy…"

"Phase one, we catch up on this dimension's celebrities."

"Ooooh boy."

"Phase two, I use artistic liberty as a salesman."

"Ooh... Wait, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Shego, would you buy a chair previously owned by… uhm…" Drakken glances over at Nathan's CD collection. "… Johnny Cash? Who… Eric Clapton?"

"And you think someone will actually fall for that?"

"As long as a celebrity's name is attached to something people will want it."

"Hmmm, people are stupid I guess."

"And who knows, Shego. They might be even stupider here!"

"I have to admit," Shego tells her boss. "This plan isn't completely half baked."

Drakken arches the brow over one eye, giving her his 'oh really' look.

"It relies on the biggest idiot around stumbling in on our garage sale," she continues, "but you've come up with worse."

"Shego…"

"A lot worse."

"Shego."

"I mean, I don't know where to start on the one where you…"

"SHEGO!"


Author's note: Happy Birthday to SweetnSour.