Author's note:
Ok, one down, two to go. As this chapter is going to be focusing on Shego and her date with Killigan, I'll include another little glossary for those of you that might have trouble with his broad Scots. And speaking of everyone's favourite golfing Scotsman, the chapter title this time, O cho meallt, is the name of a track by Runrig, from their album, Heartland and is in Scottish Gaelic. However, I'll leave the translation until the end of the chapter. Enjoy.
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A guide to Killigan speach 2.0:
evenin': Evening ye/yer: You/your dinnae: don't wee: small summin': something aye: yes lass/lassie: girl 'tis: it is maself: myself
hae: have fer: for efter: after wid: would alsae: also wis: was jist:just geed: gave wi: with laddie: boy hisnae: hasn't
noo:now cairds: cards a'ways: always hid: hold tae: to ca'd: called wis: was couldnae: couldn't oot: out aboot: about
doot: doubt ken: know whit: what disnae: doesn't a've: I've aff: off maist: most noo: now wimmen: women
widna: wouldn't tak: take 'im: him soonds: sounds A'right: alright Och: oh ba: ball
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Chapter Twenty-three: O cho meallt
It had been a strange day for Shego. She'd woken in the morning to the sound of someone, or rather something else's snoring. She had ignited a hand before her eyes fell upon the lounge chair; the source of the noise and her brain had quickly remembered the events of the previous night. For such a small creature, Ru-Ru; the naked-mole-shark, made quite the racket while asleep. With both her phone and alarm clock having suffered unfortunate accidents over the previous two days, she had needed the clock on the CD player to tell her that it had been six am; her normal wake up time. She'd elected to leave Ru-Ru where he was, recalling DNAmy having said something about him getting cranky in the morning if he didn't get to bed at a reasonable time. She'd ran through her normal two-hour morning workout and gone for a shower before waking him. As Amy had claimed, he had not taken kindly to it, but the stick of a very hot finger when he'd tried to bite her and the carrot of more cheese, had worked wonders to get him up. For the first time in over six years, she'd actually had another sentient being to feed at breakfast time. Unfortunately, this had brought with it the memory of a certain blonde-haired girl whom she'd rather forget and she'd known that little Miss Go would probably dissect the moment when next she was alone.
After breakfast, Drakken had called to tell her that Amy had been on the phone in hysterics at having lost her naked-mole-shark and could she come in and help him search the lair for the 'little beast'. She was not sure why, perhaps because Drakken had sounded rather panicked at the thought of Ru-Ru being on the loose in his lair or that she found it amusing that he would have to search the entire place for something that wasn't there, but she had neglected to tell him that the naked-mole-shark had stowed away inside her jacket. Instead, she'd told him it was still the weekend and so he could sod off. She'd received a sly grin from Ru-Ru, who it transpired had been eavesdropping. So, she'd shot a tiny plasma ball at him and told him that he'd lost his cheese privileges for the remainder of the day as punishment. He had not been happy, but a polite reminder that she could easily call Drakken back had got him to toe the line. She had then spent the day in the garage, tinkering with a new upgrade for the Blackbird. Mad-science might not have been her thing, but she knew her way around a motorbike and would not let anyone else touch her pride and joy. In what she had assumed could only have been an attempt to restore his cheese privileges, Ru-Ru had forgone the offer of free access to the TV and decided to assist. Apparently, he had a good working knowledge of tools and mechanical components and so actually came in useful. However, when probed on where he had picked up the knowledge, he had been unable to answer. Leading to think that perhaps he did have some of Rufus' memories buried in his subconscious.
Evening had eventually rolled around and the naked-mole-shark had politely reminded her that she had an unfortunate social engagement at seven-thirty. She'd left him in front of the TV with a large bag of cheese balls as a reward for his help and a warning that should she come back to find the house trashed, going home to Amy would be the least of his worries. She'd then gone upstairs to get cleaned up and dressed. Given that Killigan was taking her to the most expensive Italian restaurant in the tri-city area, she had been forced to dress appropriately, donning a green dress with black shoes, jacket and handbag. It had made riding the Blackbird somewhat awkward, so she had kept her speed within the limits for once. Had she crashed it would have hurt like hell, but her glow would have been able to patch her up, so she had not been worried.
Shego parked the Blackbird in what was becoming her usual parking spot in the lot and cut the engine. Climbing off, she stowed her helmet below the seat and activated the security system before heading out onto the sidewalk. It was only a short walk to Antonio's Italian restaurant. She stepped inside to find Duff Killigan waiting for her in the entrance hall. Tonight, much to her surprise, he had traded his traditional Kilt and plaid attire for a pair of tartan trousers, a white shirt with a black bow-tie and a black dinner jacket. She had no intention of saying this to him, but he scrubbed up far better than Dr Drakken; who thought the addition of a red bow-tie to his usual double-breasted coat constituted getting dressed up.
"Evenin', Lass," Killigan said as he stood up to greet her. "I hope ye dinnae mind, but I brought ye a wee summin."
Shego was about to roll her eyes at what she assumed was away to be a box of chocolates or worse, a single rose, when she caught sight of the cardboard box in the Scotsman's hands. "Is that…" she trailed off, knowing full well what that was.
"Aye, 'tis, Lass. A bottle o' Glengoyne 25-year-old malt and if a do say so maself, a very nice wee tipple."
It was rare that someone could do something to cause Shego's eyes to pop out of their sockets or render her speechless, but Duff Killigan had just done both. Damn, that's a decent whisky and expensive. I suppose putting up with him for a couple of hours has just been made worthwhile. "Thanks," she replied nonchalantly and took the cardboard box from him, "I'll make sure it gets a good home."
"Not at all, Lass. Tis ma pleasure. Tis rare to find a young lass that likes a good malt, let alone has good taste; 'specially on this side o' the pond," Killigan replied. "Now, shall we go hae some grub? Am starvin'."
"I suppose so," she replied, although her tone no longer held the level of ice she had been expecting to use for the duration of the evening.
Killigan stepped up towards the podium and addressed the maitre d', "reservation fer seven-thirty under the name Killigan, Laddie."
The maitre d' did not look like he cared for the term 'laddie', but nevertheless replied in his practised voice, "very good, Sir. If you and the young lady will follow me please." He withdrew two menus from his podium and stepped through the archway into the restaurant.
"Efter you, Lass," Killigan said and indicated for her to go in first.
Who would have thought, Duff Killigan can be quite the gentleman... unlike some super-villains I know. She walked through the archway, her eyes automatically scanning the room. Unsurprisingly, the restaurant was full; mostly with couples but there were one or two larger groups, families she suspected. Regardless, the threat level was minimal, so long as the Scotsman continued to behave himself. The maitre d' led them to a round table near the back of the room, pulled out her chair and offered to take her coat, which she declined. He then handed her an open menu once she was seated.
"Would you like to see the wine list, sir?" the man then asked Killigan once he too had sat down.
"Aye, I wid, Laddie. And I'd alsae like tae see yer list o' malts," Duff replied.
The matitre d' gave the Scotsman a funny look, "list of malts, Sir?"
"Whisky, Laddie, scotch," Killigan admonished, clearly of the opinion that the man should have known what he was talking about the first time around.
"Very good, Sir. I shall fetch it at once." The maitre d' bustled off to the bar and returned with both the whisky and wine lists. He handed them to Killigan. "I'll have Alfonso come and take your order in a moment. Will that be all, Sir?"
Before the Scotsman could reply, Shego cut in, "how about you take that pole out your backside and stop being such an old-fashioned misogynist? Did it ever occur to you that I might want to pick my own drink?" It was a pet hate of hers when waiters still stuck by the archaic tradition of addressing everything to the man in a couple, not that she dined with men often. In fact, she wondered how they managed with a homosexual pair. Probably have an aneurism because their old-fashioned ways don't allow for such scandalous things to occur.
The maitre d' looked both shocked and offended that she had called his time-honoured traditions into disrepute. So, she fixed him with a cold glare that said, "you don't want to fuck with me. Take the scolding and stop being so uptight."
"Very well, Madame, if you insist. I shall advise Alfonso of your particular request." He walked away without another word.
Shego turned to Killigan, suppressing a grin. As soon as the man was out of earshot, he burst out laughing. "I thought that laddie wis gonna drop doon deed fae that look you jist geed him."
"What can I say, my looks are killer," Shego replied, her tone laced with sass and deliberately highlighting the double meaning.
"Aye, I'll agree wi ye there. I've seen ye angry an tis no a pretty sight. I'm surprised Drew hisnae died o' fright by noo, "the Scotsman replied.
"Or plasma burns," she added.
There was a somewhat awkward silence between them as Killigan flicked through the whisky list, before passing it over to her. She would have a glass of wine or two with her meal but had no objections to a scotch beforehand. The selection was fairly limited but the quality on offer more than made up for it. She chose a twenty-one-year-old Balvenie Portwood. When Alfonso the waiter came over to take their order, he seemed more than happy to acquiesce to Shego's request that the archaic traditions of waiting be given the boot. Perhaps he's more liberal than that stuffy old coot of a boss. They ordered their whiskies and it was only once they arrived, that Killigan finally decided to engage her in conversation.
"Listen, Lass, cairds on the table. Am no really interested in ya."
Shego gave him a sceptical look, "really?" she said suspiciously.
"Am no, honest, Lass," Killigan replied firmly. "Besides, if ye dinnae mind me saying, I a'ways got the feeling that you putted for the other team. If ye catch me drift."
She caught his drift and found it somewhat surprising that he'd made a correct assumption on that count. It seems that Duffy's far smarter than I ever gave him credit for. Again, she found herself drawn a comparison with Dr Drakken. The so-called genius had never figured out that she was actually a lesbian, who occasionally used her looks to manipulate men into getting what she wanted. However, that was all well and good, but left one serious question, "if that's true, then why the hell did you even ask for a date with me as a wager against your whisky? And isn't golf a solo sport?"
"Hid yer horses, Lass, am getting tae that. And it can be played in teams. Ye no heard o' a wee tournament ca'd the Ryder Cup?"
"I don't do golf," she said flatly. "Just get to the point."
Killigan drummed his fingers on the edge of the table in a slightly nervous fashion.
She did not fail to pick up on this action. Ok, so he's worried about something, probably about how I'm going to react. Is that an indication that I should warm up the plasma ball right now?
"I wis hoping I could get yer help wi summin," the Scotsman finally said.
Shego rolled her eyes. "Seriously?" she said in an exasperated manner. "Could you not just have asked yesterday, instead of dragging me out here tonight?"
"No exactly, Lass," Killigan admitted, somewhat cautiously. "It's a bit o' a sensitive matter and I couldnae hae blurted it oot in front o' Drew an Amy. Besides I wis hopin' fer a few wee pointers aboot me conduct the night. As yeh no doot ken, I can get a wee bit irritable at times."
Shego brought her hand up to her forehead and shook her head at having realised what the man wanted help with. "Please tell me you did not make that wager because you want my help with girl trouble?" She asked the question but already knew the answer.
"Aye, Lass, a did."
"Seriously? You extort a date out of someone you think is a lesbian because you want her help in getting you a girlfriend?" She took a drink of her whisky to keep herself from igniting her hands and tossing a plasma ball at him.
Killigan looked slightly offended at her comment. "No jist any girl, Lassie, it's Amy am efter."
Her eyes widened on hearing who it was that Duff wished to date. She tried to suppress a laugh, actually managed to hold it for a few seconds, but then it burst out. "Seriously? It's DNAmy that you're interested in." Had it not been for the fact that he knew she was a lesbian, she probably would have felt insulted by the whole affair.
"An' whit's wrong wi that, Lassie?" Killigan boomed, definitely offended this time.
"Geeze, I don't know?" Shego said sarcastically. "How about she's an introverted, mad geneticist who turned her obsession with Cuddle Buddy's into a zoo of genetically spliced abominations." She said the phrase and immediately her mind served her up a picture of an upset looking Ru-Ru. Ok, so maybe not everything she creates is an abomination. But that naked-mole-shark is more the exception than the rule. However, she quickly added, "not to mention she was a complete and utter flake until her obsession with Monkey Fist started."
If her words had been intended to curb Killigan's enthusiasm, they seemed to have the opposite effect. "So, she disnae get oot much. Tis no like a've ever seen a young lassie hinging aff yer arm."
"Given that yesterday was the first time you've ever seen me when I've not been working, I'd say you're in no position to comment." She had no intention of telling Killigan that she'd not been on a date with a girl in a good while and did not do relationships.
"Aye, well that's no the point, Lass."
"True, there's just all the other issues with Amy to contend with."
Killigan did not look deterred. "Look, the lass is no any mare bonkers than maist o' the other villains' oot there. However, the issue wi Monkey Fist might be a sticking point. Not tae mention that I can be a wee bit prickly noo and again. Any ideas?"
Well, this is not what I expected to be doing over the course of this date. Still, it beats having to fend off his advances for a couple of hours. But seriously, DNAmy? Each to their own, I guess. She was about to reply, when Alfonso came to take their order, only to find that neither of them had bothered to even look at their food menus yet.
It was quite amusing to watch him scurry off when Killigan told him that, "if a'm goin' tae be paying fer the grub, I'll be pickin' it in ma own time. Noo beat it until I signal ye tae come bac, ye halfwit."
Shego laughed as her eyes perused the list of appetisers. Like most upmarket Italian restaurants, their names were all in the native language. While the owners would probably claim it was done for authenticity purposes, she had always been of the opinion that the staff just liked to silently laugh at people as they tried to pronounce the names of the dishes. "Ok, first tip, while I find you sending the waiter scurrying away amusing, most woman, Amy included, probably won't."
"Ye really think so, Lass?" Killigan asked, sounding slightly confused. "I thought maist wimmen liked a strong fella?"
She rolled her eyes and took another drink of her whisky. "Contrary to popular belief, most women care more about you being caring and compassionate, than how big your dick is. And that little display there, that was you being a large dick. Amy won't like it." She saw the slightly disheartened look on his face and decided to throw him a bone. "However, the fancy restaurant, making the effort to dress appropriately and the gift, they'll all get you points." The Scotsman's eyes lit up on hearing this, but before she let him get carried away with himself, she chose to give him an important warning, "only make sure you buy appropriate gifts. Amy like's cuddly things, so won't appreciate a bottle of malt."
"Aye, I suppose that makes sense," Killigan replied as he scratched his beard. "She widna tak even a wee nip when ah offered it tae her yesterday."
Shego left him to ponder her words of wisdom, as she made her choices for dinner; Arancini to start and chicken in a white wine and mushroom sauce for her main. When Killigan had made his own choices for dinner, she observed as he signalled Alfonso over and spoke politely to him this time. They ordered food plus a bottle of white wine to have with the meal when it arrived, plus another two whiskies.
Once she was sitting with a fresh Balvenie in her hand, Shego returned to imparting her sagely wisdom. Why is it that even as a villain, I seem to get lumbered with the teaching roles? Granted, when it had come to Seinor Senior, Junior, she had taken the job of her own volition because of the large salary his father had offered. If I can turn Junior into a competent villain, I can help you brush up on your dating skills. "Your bigger problem is Monkey Fist," she said firmly.
"I hid a bad feelin' ye wis gonna say that," Killigan replied as she scratched his chin. "So, whit day ah day? Challenge the laddie tae a dual?"
She laughed, "keep your claymore in your pants, Braveheart. First off, Monkey Fist hates Amy. He'd happily let you knock him out with a golf club if it meant she stopped chasing him."
"Aye, ah can see yer point there, Lass. The dirty bastard never wis very appreciative o' her. An efter she spent a' that time makin 'im human again tae."
After having dug up his statue-fied body from Japan, Amy had devoted herself to restoring her paramour to his human/monkey form. How exactly she had accomplished this, Shego did not know. However, it had transpired that as soon as he was able, Monkey fist had made like a banana and split.
"Any suggestions, Lass?" Killigan asked keenly.
She had to think for a bit before an idea came to her. "Well, before her Monkey Fist, Amy was a serious flake when it came to her obsessions."
The Scotsman looked confused. "Whit, like they bars o' crumbly chocolate?"
Shego took a drink in place of letting out a longsuffering sigh. I guess you can be just as much of an idiot as Drakken. "No," she said firmly. "As in someone who is totally unreliable, especially when it comes to people. Like with her genetically spliced Cuddle Buddy's, Amy used to obsess over anyone who so much as smiled at her, until the point where they managed to get rid of her. Soon as that happened, she'd move right on to the next poor sap. That's probably why Drakken can stand to be around her again as her obsession with him wore off once he managed to escape from her."
"Ah don' see how that helps, Lass?" Killigan replied. "In fact, it soonds jist a wee bit insultin'."
"Yeah, you clearly never met Amy before she became perpetually obsessed with Monkey Fist. My point is, she's got prior to dropping someone like a mouldy deuce. If you work at her long enough, maybe she'll finally forget about Monkey Fist."
"So, whit should ah dae, invite her oot tae dinner?" Killigan asked.
"No, no, no," Shego said quickly. "She might construe that as being a date…" she paused mid-sentence as the unwanted memory of her disastrous evening with Kimmie drifted through her mind, specifically the part where the hero effectively told her to go fuck herself and she felt a flash of anger. Screw Kimmie.
The feeling must have partly manifested on her face, as Killigan asked, "are ye ok, Lass?"
"I'm fine," she said darkly, before swiftly getting back on topic. "Start small, maybe ask her if she wants to go out for coffee." Again, she was reminded of Kimmie, this time of the vague invite the girl had given her. "And make sure she understands that you want to do it as a friend."
"A'right, I see whit yer sayin'. Tak it slow, be friends wi her before ah try tae pit the moves on her."
Shego shuddered. "Don't ever use that term around me again," she warned and gave him a look that said in no uncertain terms that if he did, she'd torch him in a blaze of green plasma. "And it's probably best if Amy doesn't here you use it either."
As if on cue, their appetizers arrived and she was left to mull over the other part of Killigan's last remark; about him being friends with Amy first. It probably wouldn't have bothered her in the slightest, had it not been lifted directly from her own advice. And she did not need an intervention from little Miss Go to tell her, well, doesn't that make me a big old hypocrite.
Unfortunately, the silence while they ate gave the rouge part of her brain the perfect opportunity to insert itself. "That's some good advice you just gave Killigan. Any particular reason why you aren't willing to follow it yourself?"
Just because it's good advice for him in his pursuit of Amy, doesn't mean it's good advice for me. There's no one size fit's all when it comes to advice. And you're supposed to be the child development teacher too.
"You and me both. I seem to recall all of you being in favour of getting that teaching degree," Miss go replied smoothly. "Besides, you and I both know that some advice is universal and that little bit about being friends before trying to aim for something more, that definitely counts."
Only if you're looking to start a relationship, Shego hit back.
"Which is exactly what you should be doing," Miss Go retorted. "While you'll argue the toss, you know full well that going on single dates for the purpose of casual sex isn't the right thing to do."
She sliced one of her arancini balls and skewered part of it on her fork with a little too much gusto. Works for me when I want to get my rocks off.
"You don't do it to get your rocks off, that's what you have a selection of good vibrators at home for. If it was, then you would do it a lot more often. Remind me, when was the last time that you slept with someone?"
Don't know, don't care, Shego said offhandedly and ate another piece of arancini; the risotto balls cooked and fried to perfection. She followed it up with a mouthful of a Sicilian pinot grigio, which complimented the dish perfectly.
Unfortunately, neither rice ball nor wine was able to stop Miss Go from continuing, "exactly. What you really do, is go on a date because you need that feeling of being intimate with another human being. However, we both know that casual sex with someone you've never met before doesn't offer nearly the same level of intimacy as sex with someone you know well… intimately. The problem you have is that after that need becomes too strong to resist and you actually go on a date with someone, you can't let them get close to you because you're afraid of getting hurt again. The psychology's textbook really."
Shego stabbed at her remaining arancini ball with so much force that her fork made a loud, harsh thunk against her plate.
Having just finished his own appetizer, Killigan chose that moment to bother paying attention to her again. "Are you a'right, Lass?" he asked.
"I'm fine," Shego replied quickly. "My fork just slipped, that's all." Sensing that little Miss Go would not leave her be if she sat in silence, she quickly asked a question that she knew would keep the Scotsman talking indefinitely, "so, why don't you explain golf to me? I've never really understood it as a sport."
A broad smile formed on Killigan's face. "Och tis a smashing sport, literally. Nothing beats the soond o' a driver smashing a golf ba aff the tea on the first hole."
This was going to be long, boring and borderline insufferable. However, Shego intended to try her damndest to pay attention and ask as many questions as she could. Anything that would keep little Miss Go at bay. I've survived Drakken talking about his childhood, I can survive Killigan talking about golf. It might have felt like a lesser of two evils situation, but she'd take what she could get. Regardless, the remainder of dinner was going to be long.
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Author's note:
So, Shego was asked out by Killigan to give him advice on his pursuit of DNAmy. I can now tell you that O cho meallt translates to Oh how deceitful. Hence, why I couldn't give the translation at the start of the chapter without giving the game away that something suspicious was afoot. Anyway, I'll see you all in two shakes for the third and final chapter of this update.