Is this one too shippy?
It feels too shippy.
Anyway this night will last a couple more chapters.
enjoi

29. Aura of Others – 3

Even a strange blue man in bed next to her would have been a better sight than cracking her eyes open to a scruffy brown rat down by her feet, nibbling a puff of popcorn. Shilo shrieked and nailed the pest with a shot of plasma before she could think twice. Blasted straight off the foot of the bed, it hit the ground running, and she heard the squealing rodent flee to the hole in the wall across the apartment.

Regretting the reflex, she hoped that it wouldn't die in the walls and leave a nasty odor.

She heaved a breath and melted back into the sheets, limp and just a little numb already from the undue adrenaline. She had four minutes until her alarm clock sounded off, which was four minutes to spare to stare up at her hands.

Today was the day. She'd really be testing her willpower and self-control by the end of it.

Shilo let her hands ignite, pouring her concentration into it until the glow began to feel hot even by her standards. It was a good indicator she was overdoing it when the cotton sleeves bunched around her elbows began to discolor and smoke.

She snuffed it out completely at will as the alarm clock beeped, and let her hands cool in the air for another minute before dropping them over herself, warming her stomach.

Deep breaths. She could do this. It wasn't like she'd never been on a date before. Well, alright, so maybe she hadn't officially – but she'd hung out with people in groups and alone and that was practically the same, and she'd made out with the neighbor boy a few times after returning to the charade of a normal life and might have made it to third base had big brother not presumably butted in.

She shoved the thought from her mind too late. She didn't need a grudge fogging her brain today, and she didn't need to kick it off by over-thinking scenarios so soon and getting in a tizzy.

The alarm clock was on her last nerve. She nearly blasted it to smithereens. But it was in front of the vanity mirror, and she was in no mood to clean up more shattered glass so soon.

As she prepared herself for the day, she tried to remain deaf to the rain coming down in sheets and driving waves of clamor on the roof and windows, at least until the saturated roof began to leak. She sighed remorsefully and mopped up the mess with a designated towel before pushing a pot under the drip which she knew might not be enough to contain the leak if the rain didn't let up soon.

She had her slicker and an umbrella, and was braced to make the soggy walk to Buckley's despite any drowsy agreements she'd made last night, but was pleasantly surprised to find herself smirking gratefully at the blue man in a brown suede jacket standing outside her door, holding an umbrella of his own.

"So you can tell time," she noted.

Drakken grunted but held out an arm. "Your chariot awaits," he said. It might have been more charming or funny had he been more enthusiastic.

Shilo didn't remark on his mood and rather than accepting the gesture, she shoved him before stepping under the shelter of his umbrella instead of popping open her own.

He'd worried her last night with his little outburst, but he'd reigned it in and composed himself in short order. She'd lightheartedly offered to make a pact that if they both found themselves diligently avoiding family on the fourth Thursday of November, they could just skip town and dine on gourmet Chow, holiday edition. Effectively cheered up, Drakken had loved the prospect enough that he hadn't even noticed the plasma glittering over her palm when they'd shook on it.

Though he'd been in good enough spirits when he insisted on leaving early last night, he didn't look all that giddy today. His eyelids were heavy, though he didn't look incredibly tired, and his lips were pulled into a slight frown as if something had left a bad aftertaste in his mouth. As she studied his face, he cast his dark eyes her way, and she snapped her stare back to the road quickly.

"Chow?" he offered.

"If we hit the drive-thru," she agreed. She sighed drearily to herself and leaned her head against the window streaked with rain. "I'm going to get sick if I keep eating that crap though."

"You're realizing this now?" He was one to talk, with his freezer full of microwavable junk.

She almost kicked him. "Shaddup." She settled for flipping him the bird, but Drakken only chuckled.

Truth be told, she was too uneasy to have more than a couple bites of her breakfast cereal earlier. She'd dumped the remainder down the toilet, and the rest had followed a moment later when she'd upchucked, no thanks to the nerves curdling in her stomach all morning. She'd barely been up for an hour and the day was off to a bad start already. She'd brushed her teeth and gargled afterward, but a hash brown patty to nibble on helped get the taste out of her mouth and off her breath once and for all, or so she hoped.

She was picking the patty apart and watching the grey swaths of rain sweep through town as they left the Cow-n-Chow lot when something caught her eye. The neon sign wasn't lit this early, but it was legible enough. With a surge of nerves prickling down her spine, her eyes popped wide and she realized she'd never tracked down the rendezvous point.

There was no need now, she realized as she watched Westinger Grill slide away into the gray haze. She shot an inquiring look to her glum driver and jabbed a thumb over her shoulder.

"Westinger Grill," she spat out. "That's the weird karaoke place, right?"

Drakken glanced back in the mirror and gave a grunt and a shrug in reply. "You mean the one you hated?"

A baffled, "Huh?" fell out of her mouth. Sure, she might have been uncomfortable and dreaded being pulled on stage like the first time, but – Shilo frowned at the gloomy man and defended herself, "I never said that."

"You dined and dashed," he stated as if the fact alone was proof.

Shilo clammed up at the reminder. She almost threw her hash brown to the dirty floorboard of the stolen station wagon, appetite momentarily quelled, but took a big bite instead for a perfectly acceptable excuse not to answer him. She didn't have to defend herself anyway. She'd been under no obligation to stay. She hadn't even left because she hated it – though it might be better to let him think that, she decided. In fact, she'd really sort of liked it. Too much. And he'd sat a little too close, and his smile had been a little too warm, or made her a little too warm – and she'd decided it was better to bail before it was too late, before she lost her cool like she did every time angel boy hexed her, like she was on the verge of doing now—

"Do I need to pull over?" Drakken piped, interrupting her spiraling thoughts. "You look sick."

"It's just the dru—uh—uhm." She couldn't blame the medication anymore. He couldn't know about the debilitating drug at all – period – let alone that she had it in her possession. "No. I'm fine." Her mouth was full of cotton but she swallowed against it anyway, and slouched back and folded her hands over her stomach to discreetly blow on them with a sigh. She'd taken another nip earlier to cool herself down, and had the remnants of the tablet in her purse just in case. She was good to go. She wasn't at risk of flaring up at the tiniest bit of agitation.

"Are you sure?" He sounded less concerned for her and more concerned with having a mess to clean up.

"I'm sure."

She picked her hash brown back up from her lap, finishing it off and inwardly hoping he wouldn't need to pull over after all as she tucked into her muffin sandwich too.

The big day was really off to a rotten start, she decided. She'd been sick once, almost sick a second time, nearly lost her cool over a trivial accusation, and resorted to messing around in her purse to take another pinch off a pill and sneak the crumb under her tongue when Drakken wasn't looking, all before even arriving at Buckley's Brew.

When he asked if she'd be needing a ride this afternoon, he added the snide remark about chaperoning her and angel boy. She told him to get bent and leapt out of the car to make the dash through the pouring rain and into Buckley's. In her haste, she forgot her umbrella but opted not to go back for it.

All day, she watched the rain outside fall. In such dreary weather, foot traffic was low and customers were few and far between. Which left ample time for Abigail and Chester, the kitchen hand, to gang up on her, making inquiries and accusations about her involvement with the local villain, perverse or otherwise, as well as pressing for classified information regarding Team Go – like what was a real lair like, did she really think she stood a chance of getting into LHU with her track record, and was Drakken hiring yet?

The dogging lasted until Buckley broke it up. Shilo regretted sneaking yet another nip halfway through her shift – otherwise, she might have thrown a glow-laced punch at her fellow barista's pudgy face to end the discussion. Given a break from the remarks and questions, she slumped into a seat as a fog settled over her, only to jump up at the chime announcing a customer's arrival. Her immediate fear was angel boy, or Drakken, or her brothers, but it was just a regular, and she put on a warm smile for the drenched woman laughing and making light of the downpour filling the reservoir.

By noon, a small ray of hope shined, golden and tantalizing outside on wet pavement. The rain hadn't stopped, but it had lightened up considerably, the clouds breaking up enough to let some shifting sunlight reach the drenched oasis town.

As she left Buckley's that afternoon, she looked to the heavens to study the blue sky mottled with bruises of grey rain clouds drifting eastward. The weather report, according to the television installed in the corner of the café, claimed the storm had passed, but there was still a churning tumult in her stomach as she trudged home, taking detours around flooded streets and grudgingly wading through an ankle-deep puddle on the last intersection, her studio in sight.

Her umbrella was leaned against the door. She scoffed a curse at the man who wasn't even there.

As she hung up her things, she cast a glance at the clock. Three hours to go. She contemplated showing up fashionably late, or early, or – she swore again and combed her fingers through her hair. What did people wear to these sorts of things? She groaned to herself, wondering if everyday street clothes were acceptable, as she didn't own anything nicer. Not yet anyway.

Two hours later, she'd turned her closet and drawers inside out and prayed she wouldn't be bringing a guest home tonight. That thought alone was like dropping a live wire in a puddle, sending sparks of heat flooding to all the wrong places. She was getting ahead of herself. She was in this for payback. Not to behave like some deprived love-struck puppy. Not that she could risk pushing her luck without a little help from the pill – and she wasn't about to roofie herself.

She squeezed her eyes shut and denied doing exactly that just to relax enough to watch a simple movie with Drakken last night.

Hell, she'd even started to fall asleep again, despite his outburst. The rogue could have done anything, but instead, he'd decided to take his leave. Shilo wanted to shout and swear now that she'd only imagined grabbing his sleeve to ask him to stay. Or maybe she'd asked if he wanted to stay. Maybe she'd been asking, or hoping, for both. Maybe she'd even wanted to try having someone beside her – actually beside her, not out of reach clear across a stupidly vast oversized bed. She'd slept in dogpiles among her brothers after tough missions before, but a man was inherently different—

She shuddered and tried to pull her thoughts back to angel boy. Angel boy was who she was seeing tonight. Angel boy was who she pulled on her nicest spotless khakis and teal cardigan for, and why she clipped on the bracelet for good measure. Hair tied back to show her earrings, she wondered if the rockhound could tell at a glance the difference between rhinestones and genuine diamonds – and then decided if he was such a snob that he cared, well, she'd just have to raise the price of payback.

She still wasn't sure what she had planned for angel boy. Something along the lines of burglary brought a smile to her as she headed out into the evening to make the trek across town. She could steal things little by little, or swindle him, or scope out the precious gems packed in that big gaudy house she was positive a young guy like him didn't own. It was probably his parents' house. That slowed her pace. She really wouldn't like having to deal with meeting anyone's parents, but if that's what it took to get inside to get a good look around, then so be it. A house like that probably had a nice security system – not that cameras had ever stopped her before.

A cold wind blew straight through her as the Cow-n-Chow came into sight, just off Main Street on the far end of town. She hugged herself and wished she'd worn something warmer than the cardigan. She longed for a cozy woolen sweater, maybe one that enveloped her in a weird mix of comforting smells like cookies and oil-spills in the lab. Then again, smelling like one of Drakken's workshop rags couldn't be the best way to show up for a date, she supposed.

She looked up from watching for puddles as the chosen restaurant came into view. The sign to Westinger Grill buzzed in bright red, and in the window, just as she'd seen before, the karaoke sign flashed as if to tempt passerby.

As she cut through the parking lot toward the tall junipers lining the walkway to the entrance and patio, a familiar ugly station wagon caught her eye. Before she could groan in dread – it couldn't be – she was discontented to find the front patio was occupied.

Slumped over on a bench near the door sat a man looking a little too blue for her liking. And of all things, he was puffing away at a cigarette she doubted was making him feel any better, by the looks of it. Or if it was, she'd hate to have seen him before he lit up. He was still in his plain street clothes, yet he looked a little disheveled as if he'd been thrown out or had neglected to tuck in his shirt or straighten his jacket all day.

Shilo's pace slowed as she neared and she stopped before him. Her hands rested on her hips, but his droopy gaze didn't lift from his scuffed oxfords. "Dr. Drakken?" she called down to him as if unsure it was the same moody scientist she knew. His eyes darted up at her, and he pulled a face almost like a sneer – yep, still Drakken – and she shifted to cross her arms. "What are you doing here? You know, this stalking thing is getting old—"

"Oh, you think everything's about you, don't you?" he snorted, and nodded to the window behind him. Specifically the blinking karaoke sign in it. He checked his watch. "Doesn't start for another…oh…fifteen. Thirteen? Minutes."

She gathered she was early.

"And you're totally sulking about karaoke and not the fact we aren't doing some Bonnie and Clyde gig, which you were just bitching about yesterday." She nodded to herself as if that made perfect sense – and in the next second, she had the feeling she was off the mark when he shot her a dirty look that made her shift again and back down.

"It's not about you, Shego," he reiterated, grinding out the words. "Fuck off." He was in an especially bad mood tonight, she decided.

Shilo held up her hands in peace. "Language, Doc," she teased tersely.

The crotchety man rolled his eyes and mimicked her in a whiny indiscernible mutter. "Why are you here?" he grumbled, eyeing her suspiciously as she turned to cast a glance back around the parking lot.

No angel boy in sight, she stepped forward and took a seat next to Drakken on the bench, though she kept a mindful distance. She leaned a little to peek at his wristwatch, but that was as close as she came. "What do you think?" she scoffed, smoothing out the wrinkles on her sleeves. "Waiting on my date."

Pissy mood aside, Drakken cracked a weak lopsided smile. "I'm flattered," he jibbed.

"Oh, shut up," she bit back, and almost struck him in the shoulder.

Drakken almost reluctantly offered the cigarette her way then, raising his brow as if in question. She decided maybe he wasn't in such a bad mood after all. Or maybe it was improving the longer she sat beside him. She wanted to pretend she was imagining it, but she could see him cheering up and sitting straighter, his eyes brighter, focused, and on her.

Minutes of silence passed. The cigarette changed hands a few times before Drakken finally flicked the butt into the juniper hedge, and the silence ensued for some time after as patrons of Westinger Grill came and went.

Shilo heard the first musically-challenged karaoke enthusiast of the night begin caterwauling inside. Drakken remained next to her, twiddling his thumbs and looking glum, but still better than he had when she'd arrived. "It's starting," she noted.

"Yes, I know. I'm not deaf." He made no move to get up. He seemed to shrink just a little even, his spirits dimmed.

"Well, if you're not gonna sing, then what are you doing here?" she wondered. "You know, besides sulking out here in the cold?" She could see her breath now and it wasn't the smoke anymore, she realized. She rubbed her arms. If she hadn't been medicating herself with a pinch here and there all day, she might have had her second nature readily burning her up right about now.

Drakken slouched back and let out a horrible noise that passed for a sigh. "You don't want to know."

"Try me."

"I don't want to tell you." His snooty answer changed when she kicked his shin, but not before he released another guttural groan and slumped forward to hide behind a hand. "The plan is to drink my troubles away and do something foolhardy," he grumbled, and she elbowed him. He nodded to the parking lot. "I'm pushing the car off a cliff."

Shilo still had the sense he was omitting something, but she let it go for now. She stifled a small laugh and caught herself inching closer, close enough he was almost warm against her side. Or maybe that was just her. "What? You think I wouldn't want in on pushing a car off a cliff?" It sounded better than karaoke, anyway.

"Why would I invite you? You were supposed to have a date," Drakken reminded.

He had a point. She narrowed her eyes and didn't comment on it though. Instead, she scoffed. "Why the sudden urge to push a perfectly good car off a cliff anyway?"

She had a pretty good idea of the ledge he was thinking of. She'd parked the SUV there her first night in the oasis. It was a good place to push a car from – if memory served her well. The thought of sitting on top of the car overlooking the pond of light in the valley below, sharing quiet chatter and making plans to cause a little chaos, was more appealing than sitting outside a grill waiting for a tardy angel boy who may or may not show.

Drakken shrugged. He dug in his coat pocket for his pack of smokes, but she reached across to push his hand down. If he lit another now, they'd be out here until it was finished – and it was getting pretty chilly out. Her hand rested over his for a second too long, and it was a decidedly good thing he was wearing his leather gloves or he might have felt the pinpricks of her nerves shooting down to her fingertips before she could snap her hand back.

The man let out another grievous sigh, his breath still smoky from the last cigarette and already bearing a hint of alcohol. She shouldn't have been close enough to smell it. "It looks too much like my mother's," grumbled Drakken.

Shilo couldn't help quirking her brow at him. "I thought you said you wanted a station wagon?"

"I did, but that was before – nngg!" He shoved his glasses up and scrubbed his face. His temper was climbing again. "Just let it go, please. I'm begging you."

Just as she'd been about to scoot away to give him breathing space, Drakken jumped up. His hands flailed in the air and he gestured down the street, smacking into the juniper in the wild movement as he did. "Why can't you go to Cow-n-Chow?" he griped, just about yelling it down at her.

"Why can't you go to Cow-n-Chow?" she retorted, rising as well.

Drakken crinkled his nose and curled his lip. "Because! I'm – I was here first!"

"Too bad. I have a prior arrangement to be here." Shilo crossed her arms and planted her feet.

He took a quick scan about and threw his arms out into the air on either side of him. "Well it looks like you've been stood up," he announced. That wasn't true. Was it? She didn't have the time – and Drakken didn't know when she was supposed to meet angel boy anyway.

Shilo crossed her arms. The assumption stirred worry in her gut, but she didn't give him the satisfaction of looking around to be sure for herself, or of letting the disappointment show on her face. She gave a little shrug she hoped was nonchalant and indifferent enough to mask it. "Yeah, not the first time," she lied.

A strange mix of pity and anger flashed in the man's eyes, and his face twisted, and he crossed his arms as well and practically stamped a foot as he turned to take in their surroundings again. "We could both go to Cow-n-Chow," he suggested as if it were troublesome just to speak the words.

"Little tired of Chow," Shilo dismissed. It wasn't a lie in the least. Some pasta and breadsticks would be a nice change, but she'd be happy with chicken tenders too.

"Alright then…" Drakken rocked on his heels for a second, hands stuffed in his pockets. He was starting to look chilled. At least, she'd like to think that was why his ears and cheeks were turning purple. "Well, there's always room at my table," he said with a nod to the door of the restaurant and held out his arm for her to take, just as he had Monday night when he'd been decked out in his Halloween costume. "Care to join me?"

Eyeing his arm, she entertained the idea. Her hand, nervous tingling aside, itched to take it, and her heart thumped in encouragement and her stomach did a funny flip that wasn't as sickening as she might have expected after being so worried sick earlier in the day.

But a buzzing pulled her attention past Drakken then, and he glanced back over the hedge just as none other than angel boy came zipping into the parking lot on a dinky little white moped. Drakken scoffed and made a sarcastic comment under his breath, "No helmet? What a daredevil."

Shilo shoved him toward the door. "Get outta here," she hissed.

"I'll take that as a no," he grumbled. "Suit yourself. See you inside."

"Don't crash any cars without me!" she whispered sharply at his back.