Longer chapter!

Bear with me~

44. Whose Side – 7

Shilo slurped at her chocolate milkshake. It wasn't her preference, but with Priscilla nursing a strawberry shake of her own, pink was decidedly not her color this evening.

As they left Cow-n-Chow, Priscilla pointed to the nearby motel across the street from the Westinger. More specifically, the parking lot where the old jeep was parked. Shilo couldn't believe herself when she nodded and agreed on accepting a ride. She shook her head to dismiss the memories of all the times she'd gladly jumped in the back seat as a kid, and took an extra suck on her straw to focus on the brain freeze rather than the lump trying to form in her throat as she took shotgun in the old jeep for the very first time.

"You know where I live," said Shilo begrudgingly as she slumped back. She didn't have much of an appetite for the simple cheeseburger she'd bought, so she lit up a smoke instead. She shot Priscilla a glare when she pulled onto the road to head in the wrong direction, and from the corner of her eye she barely saw a stray white feather catch the breeze and float out the window with the cigarette smoke. By the time she turned to look, it was gone.

She narrowed her eyes back on Priscilla. "Hey," she called over. "My place is that way."

"We're not going to your place, babe," giggled Prissy lightly, flashing a wily smile. One look at Shego, and she wiped the smirk off her face. "Your girl friends wanted you come hang out tonight, didn't they?"

"There's still time," Shilo argued, not keen to get there early. "You gotta let me get ready."

Priscilla looked as if she were trying to roll her eyes out of her skull, but she yielded with a drawn-out, "Fiiine."

"Turn here."

"Who died and made you boss?" Priscilla shot back. A glare from Shilo was met with another smirk cracking across the bubbly girl's face. "I'm kidding. You gave Hugo a pretty good bump though when you ran off though, huh?"

Now that she knew about Prissy's comet-given gift, Shilo had to wonder just how many private things she was privy to.

Before Shilo could demand answers, her former friend explained briefly, "It was all over the news."

To stop herself from grinding her teeth in frustration, Shilo took another sip of her milkshake and dug into the bag in her lap for her burger. Her cigarette was discarded out the window without a care. "Don't think we're suddenly besties now just because I haven't kicked in your teeth yet," she warned.

"I never said we were," said Priscilla, putting on some tunes as Shilo directed her through town to locate her neighborhood. The area must have become familiar, because eventually Prissy quipped, "So we're not going to your boyfriend's?"

"Dr. Drakken is not my boyfriend," Shilo grumbled, her cheeks warming over. She'd gone over this with Buckley's girls before, not that they believed her. Her hands heated around the large melted milkshake she grasped like a lifeline. It was taking everything she had to keep her cool the whole ride.

"Uh-huh." Prissy sounded skeptical. She giggled and Shilo tensed. "I meant the other one."

"What—?"

"Tom, was it?"

The wave of humiliation had her skin crawling with plasma threatening to erupt on its own accord. "He's not my boyfriend either," she answered quickly before sucking down the last of her useless melted milkshake.

Prissy knew exactly when to stop prying, and Shilo steeled herself against the continued attempt. "Don't tell me. One of those girls from the café?" She barked an obnoxious laugh and drummed on the wheel in twisted delight, giddy as could be. "Which one? Have I met her?"

Shilo made to backhand Priscilla but stopped short, satisfied enough the blonde flinched away ever so slightly. "Mind your own business."

The girl hummed as she pulled to the curb outside the shabby apartments, still amused by the blush on Shilo's face. "Remember when we used to share everything?" she said when she cut the engine. Shilo made a hasty escape from the jeep, but Prissy's voice followed as the girl reminisced. "Clothes, dolls, secrets, our first kiss—"

"Passing a kiss to Mickey to give to me doesn't count."

"I borrowed your dress—"

"You stole my dress." Shilo swallowed against the lump in her throat as she crossed the lawn. "And for the record, you still owe me for it."

"Your grandma made it."

"Yeah, the dead grandma. I can't replace that."

"It's not like it was worth anything," scoffed Prissy, following behind Shilo much too close. Oh, how badly she yearned to kick her down the flight of stairs. "Besides, that comet destroyed practically everything anyway."

"Yeah, well, what if it hadn't? What if I'd wanted to pass that down to my kids someday, huh?" Shilo retorted, shooting a heated glance down at her.

"Pink's not even your color," argued Prissy, gesturing to herself clad in pink, as if she were such a perfect model for the color. She arched an eyebrow up at Shilo then, meeting her on the landing. "Since when did you want kids anyway? I thought you had enough of changing diapers."

She nearly broke her key off in the lock. "That was then," she grumbled quickly and stepped inside. She didn't shut the door quickly enough, Prissy already slipping in before she could slam it in her face.

Curling a lip and rolling her eyes, Shilo surrendered, gesturing toward her sorry excuse for a dining table. "Pull up a chair, make yourself at home," she suggested with dry sarcasm. "Just sit there and don't touch anything."

"Sure thing, toots," promised Priscilla.

Shilo knew it was an empty promise.

She showered quickly and toweled off in a hurry, watching the steam in the bathroom for any suspicious movement through the vapor. At any moment, Priscilla could do something obnoxious, like flip off the light switch unseen or twist the shower knobs to give her an icy blast. Shilo felt a little foolish for being so on edge when nothing eventful happened.

As she exited, dressed and damp, she found Priscilla reclined in her bed, watching television. "These stations are shit," she declared. "You can't get that genius to hook you up with some good cable?"

"It's not like I sit around watching TV all day," Shilo snapped back.

"So what do you do all day?" wondered Priscilla innocently. "C'mon. Let me in on it a little, Shego."

Shilo paused as she searched her drawer for a headband. Through the mirror, she narrowed her eyes on the former friend. "Don't call me that."

"Dr. Draco calls you that."

"Drakken."

Priscilla rolled her eyes, grumbling, "Whatever," and stretched hugely. She shifted until she had her head hanging off the edge of the bed, no care at all to the fact her shoes were muddying the sheets. "Is he hiring?"

"He's not hiring you."

"You sound pretty sure of that, but who are you to say?"

Shilo's fist nearly crushed the handle of her hairbrush. "So where's Mickey?" she asked tersely, hopeful to change the subject.

"I left him at the trailer. He's got a bucket of cheese puffs and a GoBoy to keep him busy," she said, raising her hands and wiggling her thumbs as if playing an invisible game herself.

If she'd been banking on Priscilla leaving anytime soon to catch up with Mickey, hope was all but lost now. Still, she grabbed onto the thread, refusing to let go. "You two really hit it off, huh?"

Priscilla heaved herself upright. "Why do you ask? You interested? I'll trade ya."

Shilo tried not to let a frown skew her face, and shook her head instead. That was one thread of hope she'd already let go of. "Nah. Just wondering why you two pal around so much now."

By the sudden look that crossed Priscilla's face, Shilo had touched on a sore spot. She didn't miss the way Prissy scratched at her arm and tugged at her sleeve as if it would further hide her track marks. "Same as you," she muttered. "He really helps, y'know?"

"You know rehab's always an option."

Priscilla snorted and came to stand beside Shilo, leaning against the dresser. "You think my folks didn't try sticking me there before I flew the coop?" She patted Shilo's shoulder then and nodded to the door. "You look gorgeous – now c'mon, let's go!"

Before Shilo could finish grooming herself to satisfaction, she was being all but towed out her own door. She barely had a chance to grab her keys, let alone lock up.

Stalling before climbing into the jeep once again, Shilo cast a glance back wishing for Mrs. Landlady to poke her head out and ask a favor of her – she'd even take walking the pack of yappy little poodles – but no one appeared to spare her from making a potentially terrible decision.

She buckled in and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her coat, as if she needed to double-check that the cell phone was still there in case she needed to call for backup. She held onto it with one hand, hidden safely out of sight, as she pulled out a smoke and lit up yet again in the vain hope to soothe herself. It didn't do her any good. The bad habit was decidedly not for her today when Priscilla eyeballed the cigarette and asked for a drag.

Priscilla needed a little help navigating out of town – which Shilo refused to give, finding it amusing and familiar watching her struggle same as she had on her first night at the oasis. Even if being no help meant she had to share the same air a little longer, it was worth it to watch Priscilla's bubbly mood shift to frustration over a dead end.

"I don't see why you'd wanna live here," grumbled Prissy, turning the jeep around and knocking over someone's trash can in the process. "This is such a crappy town."

"It wasn't exactly my first choice."

"So why'd you choose it?" Prissy fired back.

Shilo had almost been smug a moment before, but the trace of a smirk was gone now. She frowned instead and waved vaguely to a turn ahead. She bit her lip but after a block or two her lips came unzipped. "I really didn't know where I was going," she admitted. "I caught a ride out of town and wound up here." It wasn't the whole truth, but it was true enough. She pointedly sat on her hands for a while, both to hide the signs of nerves and refrain from giving Priscilla any more directions.

"So how'd you meet him?"

"Hm?"

"Your doctor. Did you get a referral?" quipped Priscilla.

Shilo kept her deadpan fixed out the windshield. "You could say that." She almost smirked at the distant memory of the scoundrel impersonating a doctor sent to evaluate her some years ago. She rubbed her hands together now, her palms left tender and soft from the plasma use, and inwardly wondered what might have become of her had the man left her in that research facility at the mercy of Global Justice. Would she have ever been reunited with her family?

"How much does he pay you?" Priscilla's question snapped Shilo out of her reverie.

"It's none of your business, okay?" she snipped. "So buzz off – and stay away from Drakken."

"Sheesh, Shi. Defensive, much?"

Shilo leaned forward to flick on the radio and crank up the volume. Even deafening static was better than conversing with Priscilla.

The right road out of town was finally located, and Priscilla's exasperated relief was noticeable even over the radio. Before much longer, a rather slummy trailer park came into view through sparse timber amid acres of thin yellow grass tinged green in places with new growth thanks to the unusual rainfall.

"I heard there's a lake around here," piped Prissy, turning the volume down low. "We could go skinny dipping sometime. Bet that'd be fun. Just us girls – unless you wanna invite the guys along." She flashed a sly smile.

Shilo fought a blush at the very idea. "Not a chance," she grumbled, and nodded up to the array of mobile homes lined up on the hillside. "So which tin can is yours?"

Priscilla's haughty attitude fell away. "Uhm – ugh – that one," she grumbled reluctantly, pointing ambiguously toward the far end up the hill. It was a long and bumpy ride up the rocky driveway.

Given the lived-in look of the surrounding trailers, Shilo took a wild guess. She couldn't stave off the smirk now. "The camper with the toilet and tires for flower pots?" There was nothing but weeds growing out of them now, but she supposed they were intended to be planters at one point.

"Let's be clear," Priscilla chuckled anxiously. "It was not my first choice."

"No. Really?" Shilo crooned as Priscilla parked on the uneven slope and put on the e-brake. She climbed out of the jeep and scrutinized the slum that sufficed as Prissy's new digs. With the water damage, moss, and rust, the rundown old camper trailer had to be temporary. "Man, if I knew you needed a shoebox so bad, I could have just given you one."

"I've had worse," grumbled Priscilla meekly as if in defense, but Shilo didn't question her.

When Shilo took a step toward the crooked door and rickety single metal step, Priscilla jumped in front of her, arms out. "No way," she said firmly. "I mean – Mickey's probably, uhm. He might be in the buff or something. Let's go see your friend, huh?"

Shilo tried to take the upper hand by flashing a wily grin down to Priscilla. "Oh, as if I wouldn't like to see that?" she shot back in jest.

The door behind Priscilla swung open then. Mickey had kicked it open and took one heavy step out to land with a thud beside Priscilla, his thumbs twiddling away as his focus remained glued to a tiny golden GoBoy in his paws. "Like to see what?" he wondered between biting his tongue in concentration on the game. He almost glanced to Priscilla as she slammed the door shut. "We're going to the lake, right?"

"Later."

"I never agreed to go to the lake," Shilo protested as Priscilla dared to put her hands on her shoulders to push her away down the hill.

"Just think about it," cooed Priscilla. "Your friend already offered to buy the beer."

"What?"

"Fine, I'll put in an order for some cola if you're that big of a prude." Priscilla rolled her eyes and all but skipped past Shilo.

Mickey was slow to follow, pausing every other step. Shilo was inclined to linger close to his side, and she peeked over at the tiny screen of his GoBoy in time to see the GAME OVER scroll across it accompanied by a sad defeated blipping. Playing and following Priscilla at the same time was too much trouble, and with a groan he finally stuffed it in his deep coat pocket.

"Fun game?"

Mickey jumped, finally seeming to realize exactly who was walking next to him. "Uhm. Yeah. Where's, uh…?" His glance darted away from Shilo to scan the unfamiliar trailer park for Priscilla.

"Number three," Shilo grudgingly informed, nodding to the collection of trailers near the foot of the hill.

The young man grunted and walked with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Shilo didn't miss him casting an uneasy sidelong glance at her. "Nice weather we're having," he muttered with feeble sarcasm, and chuckled uneasily. He stopped in his tracks suddenly, blurting, "Are you sure you wanna be here?"

Shilo crossed her arms over her chest and gave a shrug. "Do I look like I wanna be here?" she scoffed and shook her head. "I got drug along for the ride. You know how Miss Priss is."

Mickey wore a brief grimace but nodded in understanding. "You and me both." He took a couple long strides then to put some space between them.

"What's that mean?" Shilo pressed, practically jogging to keep up. "She's blackmailing you to make you come along, isn't she?" She tried to voice the suspicion lightheartedly, but she knew it came out as an accusation.

By the miserable look in Mickey's eye, she'd bet money she'd hit the nail on the head. He cracked a forced smile though and wagged a finger. "Don't make me use this on you."

"Don't threaten me with a good time," she quipped. She almost elbowed him playfully but stopped herself. She found herself staring at his arm as they walked the rest of the way down the hill in silence, a curiosity growing with each step. Was it any touch infected that a person with his gift, or did it have to be intentionally activated? After the last run-in with Mickey Goldsmith's golden touch, she wasn't too eager to be rendered defenseless.

Nonetheless as she reached out to touch his elbow with her fingertips, she made note of a distinct lack of knee-buckling relaxation. That, and Mickey hastily sidestepping to evade her.

"You shouldn't do that," he said quickly, and began to stammer and scratch at his neck. "I mean, if we're going to hang out – I'd like to hang out – but not if you're, uhm—"

"Under the influence?" she supplied.

Shilo didn't miss the look of guilt flash in the young man's eyes as he clammed up and spun around. She took his grunt to be a yes, and then he was nodding to the small trailer with a rusted number 3 hung on the front.

"Yeah, I had a garage sale too over summer," Priscilla was saying to Chester in a falsely understanding tone.

Chester didn't look amused as she sat on her front steps nursing a bottle of coke. "Didn't sell off all the doll clothes though, I see," she shot back, remarking on Priscilla's bright pink attire no doubt.

Prissy's eyebrows pinched together, and by the way she kicked the ground, Shilo knew she'd wanted to aim the blow at the sour woman. "So how 'bout it?" Priscilla pressed, changing the topic.

With a roll of her eyes, Chester held out a hand, palm up. "Fine. But I don't want to hear any pansy whining if you don't like it," she said, and Priscilla completed a deal by depositing a meager sum of cash in her hand. She counted the cash quickly before stuffing it in the breast pocket of her flannel and rising to her feet, grabbing a small stack of cassettes from the steps.

As Chester thrust them into Shilo's hands, she leaned close, casting a narrow-eyed glower back at the newcomers. She didn't bother to hide her suspicion of them and Shilo read the question in her eyes.

"I'll keep them out of trouble," Shilo assured, though she couldn't be sure she could keep her word.

The dreary future henchwoman cast another look over the hood of her truck. "You sure you don't want a ride back into town?" she offered.

Minutes later, Shilo deeply regretted not taking Chester up on the offer. She walked down the road with Priscilla hanging off her arm, wishing she in turn could be holding onto Mickey's – if only so the contact with him could soothe her loathing for Priscilla's so-called "nostalgic" babbling in her ear.

The good old days Priscilla regaled all seemed like bad memories in retrospect – and Shilo didn't know what would make this trip to the lake any different. There'd been a time they'd gone swimming at the beach only for a rip current to tow Shilo far from shore, a jelly fish Priscilla had once thrown at her that had left an embarrassing mark, and of course the first time Shilo had braved wearing a two-piece bathing suit which Prissy found humorous that a seagull had relieved her of when it had decided the strings looked appetizing.

Shilo was accused of having pink cheeks as Priscilla pinched one for good measure. She inwardly blamed the nippy air and swore to herself that she was impervious to Priscilla's teasing and attempts to humiliate her. Two could play dirty, but Shilo bit her tongue to keep what dirt she had on Priss to herself.

"I thought this was supposed to be a popular spot," complained Priscilla as she frowned ahead to a lakeside park. She finally relaxed her secure lock around Shilo's arm though she still kept a hand on her elbow, careful to keep her close. Earlier she'd tried putting Shilo nearest the fog line, but considering crude tricks of the past, she knew better.

Studying the occupants of the park – two fishermen on the shore and a young nuclear family on the playground – Shilo answered with a small shrug. "I'm sure the riffraff will show up soon," she jibbed, and shrugged free of Priscilla's grip once and for all.

A park picnic table was located, away from the family and the fishermen, in the shadow of eerie bare trees that clattered in the breeze rippling across the surface of the lake. Shilo sat at one end, thankful the old wood wasn't too soggy, and eyeballed Mickey at the other end of the bench. She'd just lit up a cigarette and opened her mouth to ask him something – anything – to get the unusually reserved young man to open up, but Priscilla leaned over the table then to make a beckoning motion and ask for a drag.

Unused to the residual plasma burning a green cherry at the end, Priscilla choked on the smoke and quickly passed it back. "Shoulda invited one of your boyfriends," she croaked, fighting off a grimace. "Coulda made this a lot more fun."

"I don't have boyfriends," Shilo reminded with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh right." Priscilla nodded as if she understood everything perfectly. "You're one of them." Brow quirked, Shilo grunted in confusion only for Priscilla to crack a wry smile as she made a crude attempt to explain. "You know, birds and the bees – only you dig the birds and birds, right? I mean you hang with them all day."

Shilo scowled and made to kick Priscilla under the table, but the girl was sitting on her knees so there were no shins to kick at. "I'm not—"

Suddenly, Mickey intervened. "Do you think bussing at Cow-n-Chow is worth it if I can take home leftovers?" he blurted in a poorly concealed attempt to change the subject.

"I told you to go with Smarty Mart," Priscilla snapped just as abruptly. "You get discounts there, you retard." By the gesture she made at the air, Shilo didn't doubt she would have backhanded him – perhaps even hard enough to hurt by the way Mickey flinched even from across the table.

"Hey!" Shilo snapped in reflex.

"What?" Prissy snipped back. "Not all of us have a sugar daddy to fall back on."

Biting back a retort and the bitter aftertaste of her old hero lifestyle of defending the public, Shilo rubbed her temple and took a drag to try to placate herself without resorting to reaching out to Mickey. "So how long have you two known you were…affected?" she wondered. She was hesitant to call the powers bestowed on them by Lady Fate a gift.

"Almost immediately," grumbled the sour little blonde, shifting to lean back against the table and glare out at the lake.

"And you?" Shilo urged Mickey.

He was reluctant to look up from the wood grain he was carving into with a fingernail, but at least gave a shrug. "Still figuring it out, actually."

"Aren't we all," Priscilla sighed apathetically, legs crossed and foot bouncing in the air. She cast a look over her shoulder between them, though her gaze settled on Shilo. "Birds of a feather gotta stick together though, right?" The trace of a smile pulled her lips.

"I wouldn't say that's a rule," Shilo dismissed.

"Well, maybe not a hard one, but—"

"Rules are made to be broken." Shilo stared back into the hazel gaze hardening on her, taking a puff to stave the smirk from her face.

Something behind her became of greater interest suddenly, and Priscilla's face split with a grin Shilo hadn't been expecting. "Alright. Let's break some rules then, babe," she twittered as she leapt up and patted Shilo's shoulder in passing.

Approaching tires left the gravel parking lot with a rattle and clunk before rolling across soggy grass. The vehicle doors slammed nearby, only slightly muffling the thumping beat emitting from the cab.

Shilo was careful not to look back so hastily, instead casting a leisurely glance over to Chester approaching with a case of beer and Abigail in tow. "If anyone asks, you didn't get this from me," said Chester, thrusting the box at Priscilla.

"And you got the marshmallows too?"

"Hey, if you wanted me to do your grocery shopping—"

"I got 'em," piped Gail, pulling out a bag from her purse. It was already open, a sure sign she'd been snacking on them the whole ride. The purse was large enough it wasn't surprising when Gail pulled out chocolate and graham crackers too, likely shoplifted.

Priscilla plucked a marshmallow from the bag and practically purred around the fluff, "Oh yeah. Now it's a party."

"This is your idea of a party?" teased Shilo.

Chester set herself down on the table between Shilo and Mickey. "We can show your big city friend a real party later," she assured.

"Like a going away party?" Prissy chimed.

Gail wasn't bashful about reaching a foot out to trip her for the remark. The crude attitude toward her friend's inevitable departure may have been the reason the first beer Prissy took the honors of cracking open foamed across the table.

Relaxing now with Chester and Gail for additional company may have been a mistake on Shilo's part. A little voice of reason at the back of her head telling her to go was soon muffled by the louder curiosity wondering what it would be like if – for just one night – she were to pretend there was no bad blood. Priscilla seemed to be willing enough to put it behind them anyway, seeming like her old self with rude jokes and boisterous behavior. Come nightfall, Shilo found it hard to convince herself there was still any bad blood there at all as she sat around a fire making s'mores with her friends, old and new.

She should have known, for her own wellbeing if nothing else, to leave with Chester and Gail some hours later that night when the pair announced they were heading back. Shilo sat on a log, comfortably warm beside a campfire with Mickey to her left and Priscilla to her right. She might have had more than her share to drink as she'd warmed up to the lukewarm cans of regret, but Mickey was just coming out of his shell and Priscilla had let up on her teasing. Shilo was amazed to realize she was enjoying herself – thus she dismissed an offer once again for a ride home.

Even so far from the home she'd known in Go City, the night was feeling a kind of normal she hadn't known in years and it was hard not to ride that wave for as long as she could.

No sooner had Buckley's girls gotten back in their truck and drove off did Shilo begin to consider she'd made a mistake, the safety of slightly-more-trustworthy individuals gone just like that. But just as quickly, her qualms were gone. Blaming the alcohol in her system, she was growing altogether too warm, and sparks of plasma had already burned pinpricks through her jeans as she'd tried to rub the heat away.

Priscilla giggled and made a suggestion, elbowing Shilo in the ribs and nodding to the lake. Mickey grabbed Shilo's arm and recommended she call for a ride instead, but it didn't stop her from shedding her jacket to slip out of his grip and relieve some heat. She tripped out of her sneakers and stumbled after Priscilla toward the water, inwardly – or maybe out loud – wondering who would get the better of the other this time.

The dark lake was cold around her shins. Shilo wished she had worn more into it, even if extra layers might not have helped keep her warm. Priscilla's scream was shrill when Shilo pounced on her, knocking her in and herself along with her. It was all fun and games, harmless splashes and shoves and shrieks, until hands were pushing on Shilo's shoulders until she choked on lake water. She flailed and scrambled for her footing to knock Priscilla off her back.

Despite the mock drowning attempt, when she surfaced again gulping for air she couldn't help joining Prissy in goading Mickey from the shore to join them. Their efforts were in vain as Mickey was too busy talking into a cell phone. As far as she could tell, he didn't spare them even the slightest interested glance. He even seemed to be avoiding looking at them, a hand up to block his view.

She noticed then the water growing ever colder as the night chill began to sink in all around her. Alien fire wasn't enough to keep her warm anymore – and in fact, Shilo almost had half a mind to applaud herself for keeping her cool as she opted to wade out of the water toward Mickey despite Priscilla trying to tug her back in. She merely swatted the girl's grabby hands away from her bare legs and ignored her calls to come back.

Crawling and stumbling up the sandy bank to find the rest of her clothes, she draped herself over the log and reached for her can instead of her dry shirt. Mickey jerked suddenly, kicking the can over, and Shilo whined her displeasure. He said something about a bug in her drink.

The campfire was bright enough after spending so long splashing around in the dark lake, but it was nothing compared to the pair of headlights soon glaring her in the face.

A/N:

Silly note on the GoBoy, it's a play on words/concepts of the Game Boy, Z-Boy, and headcanon of Team Go having merch.