It's - kind of - TCYK's "birthday" today! (At least If you count Bad is Good, published August 8th last year... lol)
Wish I'd had the energy to draw something for this one now more than ever, ahhh.
Nothing else to say...except maybe that I have my own idea of what "the family black sheep" really meant...

Anywho. Enjoy and review, if you're not too shy.

31. Aura of Others – 5

Heaving for breath, Shego began to wonder what she was even doing out here in the middle of the damn night. But it would be worth it, Drakken assured her, struggling just as much if not more than her as he strained with his back against the trunk of the stolen station wagon. Her sneakers dug in the gravel as she fought against a vehicle that weighed impossibly too much. She complained about what he'd loaded it up with – bricks? She'd only been joking, but Drakken giggled like a child and swore it was a surprise.

The front wheels rolled over the peak of the incline, they nearly lost their footing, and finally the rest of the vehicle followed as it rocked at the precipice before teetering over. Drakken fell onto his back, hitting his head on the bumper as the car fell away, and Shego stumbled over his arm flailing out for support, tripped by her boozy companion.

She army-crawled forward as she heard the scrub snapping and whipping against the vehicle, loose rock and earth raining down with it, and just barely peered over the edge as Drakken rolled onto his belly to wriggle forward beside her. He was beaming. She didn't have to look at him to know when she could see the flash of his pearly whites in her peripheral, even in the dark. He was far too close, warm against her side in the chilly night as they lay in the icy mud, peeking down the steep slope in anticipation.

Drakken dug into his back pocket and pulled out a small device – a remote with an antenna and a flip-top protective cap over a red button. "Would you do the honors?" he chuckled as the vehicle tumbled and crashed with a shatter of glass before rolling ever further down the mountainside.

Curiosity urged her to give the alluring red button a push.

He should have warned her the detonation would be bright, but he'd had quite a lot to drink, and she'd had some of his liquor as well, so she was in just a good enough mood not to complain.

A glaring white ball flashed like lightning before a boom like thunder struck her ears.

She squinted and winced, Drakken beside her covering his head as he cackled in delight above the explosion. The tumbling car turned into a rolling ball of flame and molten metal. Watching it blaze a path through the soggy brush and sparse timber, she couldn't help musing that it looked just like she felt – only she'd yet to combust. She realized she must have been thinking out loud when the man uttered something questioning in reply, but her ears were still ringing from the blast. As she flicked a glance at him, she was sure the curling warmth in the pit of her stomach was worse than the destroyed vehicle meeting its demise below. She desperately wanted to blame the alcohol, but not badly enough to wipe the smile from her face.

"Why blow it up?" she wondered, maybe speaking a little too loudly. "That's kinda going overboard, isn't it?"

Drakken shrugged and tore his eyes off her to stare down the trail blazed down the mountainside. "Villainy 101, sister. Destruct buttons destroy evidence," he said proudly, tucking the remote back into his pocket. "It was a stolen vehicle after all."

She couldn't stave off the smirk as she picked herself up onto her knees. "Clever," she noted with a squeeze of his shoulder. She wiped her hand on his shirt a moment later when she realized her palms were muddy, but her depressed doctor was too drunk and happy now to even grunt unappreciatively at her. "We should scram now. You know, before the fire department shows up."

The realization flashed in his eyes and his mouth gawped open. "Ah! Quite right, Shego. A very wise suggestion," he praised awkwardly as he scrambled and slipped his way to his feet. His eyes skewed at her then, looking her over. "You got my jacket dirty."

Shego looked down to herself, brushing at the mud and filth smeared across her front, and gave him a light shove that nearly sent him stumbling over the edge. "You would've gotten it dirty anyway. Look at yourself!" She hugged his warm suede jacket tighter around herself, making note that she'd have to soon get something lined in sherpa for herself – if she even remembered.

Drakken plucked his bottle of liquor from the roadside where he'd left it, which she all but ripped from his hand as he stumbled along next to her. His soft chuckle near her ear was more than enough to warm her as she took a swig. She wasn't sure who was responsible for their interlocked hands, but hers was heating up and prickling – but he had leather gloves on, so she didn't worry too much about it and didn't shake him off when he squeezed her fingers tighter.

Ambling around in the dark, his scent enveloping her no worse than if she were being gagged by one of his shop-rags she'd worried of smelling like earlier in the night, was remarkably agreeable with her even if every inch of her was burning hotter by the second. She knew she was taking a chance by getting so close, and she knew it was a fool's bet, but she could only err on the side of caution for so long.

Squinting past the bend in the pitted road riddled with potholes and gravel, she could just barely see the driveway leading to Drakken's safe house, or so she thought anyway. It was a relief that it was in sight. She couldn't wait to sink into something soft and maybe watch some television until she fell asleep.

As if there was a need to whisper, Drakken's breath was in her ear again as he leaned precariously close. She hadn't been paying attention to what he was saying – scheming about something involving bombs, she was pretty sure – but more importantly, when she turned her head, her nose brushed his cheek. She was just a little too pleasantly buzzed herself to mind the disregard of personal space.

He shook his hand free of hers, and for a split second she was afraid she'd burned him, but his chilly gloved fingers were at her temple then, pushing her hair back so he could search for the cut she'd received last Friday. He gave a thoughtful hum before she elbowed him lightly and he settled for lazily dropping his arm around her shoulders. She couldn't bring herself to argue with the idle stroke of a thumb or the smirk it brought her as she leaned into him.

As she walked alongside him through the dark, she nearly tripped, she nearly caught on fire, and she nearly popped up on her toes to place her mouth somewhere that might shut him up, hoping he'd keep stoking the inferno – just maybe not the same one that made the rambling man comment on her radium freckles again as he peered down at her.

Shego sucked in a sharp breath, but it did nothing to cool her off. She didn't have to reach for it to feel something minuscule in her pocket, but her fingers dug down into it just to make sure it was there. She didn't really mean to pull it out or eye the tiny white pill in the dark. She especially didn't mean to let out a tiny disappointed noise when the hand left her shoulder altogether.

Drakken was frowning into the dark now, his dopy grin gone and his handsiness retracted entirely. The fear she might have burned him and warded him off crossed her mind again and was all the incentive she needed in her present hazy state to drop the bitter pill on her tongue and chase it with a sip of liquor she really didn't need. It went without saying that the sleep aid wasn't meant to be mixed with alcohol, but if there were ill effects from it, she'd soon find out. She couldn't risk having yet another villain getting his hands on it anyway, she rationalized to herself.

Grabbing his hand again, she pulled it back around her shoulders. He didn't push her away, so that was probably a good sign, she decided to herself with a nod, even if his arm felt colder and heavier than before.

Stumbling around in the dark with a nice buzz, pushing cars off cliffs, detonating bombs – it sure beat insufferable jokes and wishing for earplugs at karaoke. Who needed an angel boy with heavenly eyes to show her the light when she had a paying advocate for mischief at her side who could dazzle her just as well with homemade explosives? She'd spent at least an hour earlier – surely longer than she'd even spent at karaoke with angel boy – spieling her complaints in the midst of learning the ropes to get the stolen station wagon up the mountain before it broke down. Happily intoxicated, Drakken had laughed through most of the night as he drug her down the same indulgent path with the occasional offer, and Shego was thankful there weren't nearly as many patrol cars in the little oasis town as there were in Go City, or they would have been busted for sure.

Drakken mumbled something. Her name, maybe, or close to it anyway. His dark eyes were still fixed dead ahead, and suddenly she noticed he'd gone tense.

"Waddisit?" she slurred out. The bottle slipped from her fingers and broke on the pavement. She swore. She didn't want to believe the medication was hitting her so soon. There was still a ways to walk – but surely close enough she could reach a safe place to crash before she did something especially stupid, or maybe a safe place to do something especially stupid she otherwise couldn't sober. She inwardly chastised herself for the thought ever crossing her mind.

"Nothing," Drakken mumbled. "Nothing. It can't be." He shook his head, disheveled hair flopping around his face, still damp and sticky from an earlier drizzle. She let him slip away so he could take a few hasty steps ahead of her, picking up his pace as he ambled down the dark mountain road.

A disappointed sigh escaped Shego's unzipped lips without her say-so. "Can't be what?" she wondered, straightening up and squaring her shoulders, determined not to let the absence of his arm around them get her down so easy.

"I said it's nothing!" Drakken grouched back at her, and his frown smoothed out slightly. It clearly wasn't nothing if it had him lashing out and swaggering over to the side of the road, wrapping an arm around his stomach as he let out a groan. The man doubled over suddenly and hurled. Then again, maybe it was just the alcohol, she decided.

Shego stood behind him for a moment, contemplating leaving him there to throw his guts up in relative privacy or continuing on her way to the lair. Remembering about the pill in her own stomach now, she opted for walking on after giving his back a couple of not-so-ginger pats. It was only a matter of time before she collapsed. Popping a pill so soon had been a stupid mistake. She'd underestimated how far the lair was. Why had she even brought the stupid pill at all? What did she think she'd need it for? She shook her head to herself.

As she trudged on, she recognized the approaching sound of an engine Drakken must have heard a minute before her, what with his big ears and all. She couldn't place it. It didn't sound right for the standard car, yet surely couldn't belong to anything larger like a firetruck. She caught a glimpse of a single light then, and for a second she feared the angel boy on his way up the mountain with his little moped. She blinked and shook the absurd notion out of her head and surmised it was a motorcycle.

A motorcycle which was pulling into their driveway.

Her stomach flip-flopped as she corrected the thought.

Drakken's driveway. A motorcycle was pulling into Drakken's driveway.

If any of the henchmen even owned a motorcycle, it was news to her. Who else would have business out this way at this time of night was beyond her.

Drakken cursed in alarm between heaves and then he was jogging right past Shego a moment later. She didn't have time to articulate a question before he was far enough away she'd have to shout, so she held her tongue and quickened her pace after the woozy rogue.

As they hurried up the driveway to the gate, Shego could see the lock had already been cut or picked or whatever the case, the gate was open, and across the blacktop parked by the side entry of the whopping garage was the motorcycle.

"Oh no, no, no," Drakken groaned. He whirled in front of Shego with his hands up to stop her. "You – you've gotta go. I shouldn't be here. Can – uhm – can we hide at your place? Pretty please?" His smile was forced and fake and didn't do a very good job of charming her into letting him get his way.

"Are you kidding me, Doc?" she scoffed, shoving his halting hands aside. "Not a chance. I'm not gonna make it." It was the unfortunate truth. She'd definitely jumped the gun by taking the narcotic so soon.

In the dark, she saw his brow quirk at her. "I told you to use the restroom at—"

She rolled her eyes. "Ugh! Drakken. Who's here? Do you know 'em or should I be ready to fight?" If he needed her unique service, it had to be now or never.

"Please, don't – put those away."

"Don't put them away or just don't in general?" she teased over her shoulder, though her patience was starting to wear thin.

Drakken whined for her, and then snapped her name under his breath in the most commanding tone he could manage while so tipsy. He jumped in front of her again and pointed sternly to the gate. "You need to leave."

She crossed her arms. "Why?"

"Drew Lipsky!" came a shrill shout from inside the garage, and the pounding of a fist on the entry to the subterranean lair rang above it. "You open this door at once!"

The grown man winced at the whining call of a woman. "That's why," he hissed. "Please—"

Her hand snapped out to grab a fistful of his shirt. "I'm not going anywhere," she hissed back, tugging him along. "It's late as hell. It's cold. I'm tired." She couldn't admit she'd just taken the addictive suppressant drug she'd only just gotten off of, or that it was due to knock her out for the count within the next thirty minutes.

Drakken grunted, and jerked away from her, taking a couple big steps ahead of her. "Then stay out of sight. I'm not – I'm not explaining you, o-or any of this to her. Not tonight! Not ever!"

"So who's here, anyway?" she wondered, still following but giving him some space now.

Another quiet peeved noise, a frown over his shoulder, and a curt, "Zip it," was the last thing he said to her before hurrying into the garage.

Shego slipped along the wall toward the open side entry, passing the classy motorcycle in shades of scarlet and chrome. She heard the pounding of the fist on the lair door interrupted by the clearing of Drakken's throat, followed by a long pause.

Too dissatisfied to be left out of the loop, she dared to take a peek inside. Past Dr. Drakken, she could just see the shape of a small woman. "Let me get that for you," he told her, skirting around the visitor dressed in leather biker gear.

Shego had to assume the woman was none other than his mother, or at least a relative, given the sheer family resemblance in the facial department. The astounded lady was silent and analytical as he unlocked the door, until finally she ventured, "Drew?"

Drakken went rigid but said nothing – nothing pertaining to the name anyway. "Right this way," he said, as a doctor would to a patient. The unexpected guest had sobered him up quick, but he could sound as respectful and sober as any real doctor – it wouldn't help him come off any more professional with mud smeared all over him from falling down while shoving the car off the mountain just minutes ago.

The plump little biker woman was otherwise quiet as Dr. Drakken led her into his lair. Needing to find a place to lie down soon, Shego risked following at a distance, slipping silently up the stone-carved stairs and through the corridor behind them. The lab was dark – which she could see Dr. Drakken breathe a sigh of relief for – and he made a quick cut through it to his living quarters to hold open the door for the perturbed mother giving him the strangest of looks as she entered.

The woman was clearly still set on clarifying that the strange blue man was what had really become of her boy. Learning of a freakish change hadn't gone over particularly well with her own mother, so Shego could only hope for a better outcome as the woman repeated firmly, "Drew." It was less of a question and more of a statement.

"Actually, it's Dr. Drakken," corrected the rogue, following his mother in.

Shego's foot caught the door before it could shut. She peeked in just in time to see the woman sitting down at one of the bar stools and Drakken slipping into the kitchen to scrub his grimy arms clean. It was otherwise silent until he turned around, brandishing a bag of specialty coffee for the woman. "Your favorite," he said feebly, wearing a forced smile on his face.

"You are Drew," uttered his mother. He busied himself with the coffee pot until the demanding woman ordered him, "Drew. Come over here and let me look at you."

As Drakken slowly turned to face the woman, his somber stare darted up to Shego peeping in, and his eye twitched in the barest hint of agitation. So she ducked a little further out of view, just out of courtesy, but once he was standing before his mother and the shell-shocked woman had grabbed him by the face, Shego snuck inside, taking the chance while the guest was distracted.

"Oh, honey," breathed the tiny curly-haired lady. "What in the world did you get yourself into this time?"

As Shego snuck by behind the unsuspecting woman, not exactly thinking through what she was doing, she didn't miss Drakken's glance cast toward her again. "It's a long story," he muttered.

"Well, I'm listening and I'm not getting any younger here," his mother chastised. "You better start. How did this happen? And, honey, when did you get this?" Shego didn't have to glance back to know what the woman was reaching for, but she did anyway. Her stomach twisted in guilt as Mrs. Lipsky inspected the scar she'd left carved into the rogue doctor's face some years ago.

The guilt dissipated as she reached the nook hiding his bedroom entrance. The foggy old memory made her smirk now to think the abductor she'd wounded as a frightened kid was the same dismal man who'd smiled so warmly at her tonight. And not only that, he was the same man whose room she was sneaking into to seek refuge now. Things had a funny way of changing.

She leaned back on the door and listened for a minute, but couldn't quite decipher the muffled conversation between a self-proclaimed mad scientist and his tiny biker mother. Something about big top-secret plans for the future of humanity and a broken promise in order to rush over to the oasis in the middle of the night to check on him.

Kicking away from the door, Shego patted the wall around the doorframe in search of a light switch, to no avail. She almost tried clapping her hands in case it was clap-activated – but stopped herself in time, reminding herself she had to be sneaky. She lit her hands instead – and remembered she only needed one to light the way – and held the fading glow out ahead of her as she navigated across the swollen waterway. She muttered to herself that the man needed to install railings or pathway lights of some sort, and wondered what he'd think of the evil atmosphere green aquatic lights might offer.

An open door – or rather, a gaping hole of darkness – drew her eye, and she gravitated toward it. It must have been intuition that led her to a walk-in closet. She ran into the pull-cord before she saw it, and winced at the blinding light that flooded the little room of shelves and racks. Taking it in, she swore he owned more clothes than he'd ever need, and almost envied his fortune to own such an expansive wardrobe. Few things of her own lasted more than a couple of months, as everything but her specialized gear was burned to some degree eventually, and the tendency had gotten regrettably worse since running away with Drakken.

Picking through his closet and careful not to disturb much, she found a hamper to drop his muddy jacket beside. Her dirt-encrusted jeans followed. There were enough sweatpants hung up that he couldn't possibly notice an ambiguous grey pair missing, though her face burned as she considered she probably should have asked to borrow some the other night.

Shego found the lamp above the bed just as her glow had grown too dim to see by, and she tried to wait patiently, sitting up at the edge the bed regardless of how drowsy she was becoming. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, and was just beginning to nod off when the door opened.

She rolled her head on her shoulders as she fixed an inquiring heavy-lidded gaze on Drakken shuffling in. He was wide-eyed and looked alarmed – the polar opposite of her increasingly dopy state – and he opened his mouth as if to gripe her name, but shut it again. His hands were balled into fists as he stalked across the little bridge and into the closet.

"I see you're making yourself at home," he hissed when he came back out, bedding stuffed under one arm and one of his robes on a hangar draped over the other.

Shego only smirked at his back as he hurried back out just as his bedroom door began to creak open. Her heart gave a small lurch and she hoped she hadn't been spotted perched on the corner of her boss's bed by her boss's mother. She wasn't ready to explain herself right now. Not tonight. Not ever.

Flopping back and throwing an arm over her eyes to block out the light was a mistake. Not because she began to doze off again the second she did, but because she missed Drakken's return and the kersplash! that announced it.

"Gah—shi—doodles!" he sputtered, choking on water.

Shego found just enough energy to push herself onto an elbow to watch the blue man heave himself out of the diminutive canal on the brink of overflowing, sopping wet and blinded by the loss of his glasses. She chuckled softly. If she weren't too tired to laugh herself silly, her laughter would have given herself away to his guest.

Drakken knelt for a minute, shaking his hair out like a wet dog and feeling around on the floor to find the glasses he'd lost. "I hate this goddamn—"

"Th'moat's cool," she said. Thought she said, anyway. She was pretty sure it came out a garbled mumble, but Drakken must have understood her well enough.

"You think so?"

"Mm-hm." She dropped down on her side and barely saw him blow a raspberry and futilely paw specks of water off his lenses. Her heavy eyelids fell shut as she watched him wringing himself out.

Before she knew it, she was being nudged, and pulled a little bit too. He was saying something she didn't quite catch but took a guess as to what was being requested of her. Barely capable of complying, she shifted, hopefully in the right direction. To her relief, her head found a pillow, and then Drakken was dry and smelling soapy and hovering over her. He seemed concerned. In the fleeting moment of consciousness, she barely formed the thought that there was something to be concerned about.

The dosage was stronger than before.

She wasn't concerned for long.