Contrasting Colors
Put this picture into your head.
You're the only girl in your family; you're not the oldest, or the youngest, you're in the middle, two boys older, and two boys younger. One day, you're about ten, and you and your brothers are outside in your tree house, playing. You're sitting in the corner trying not to roll your eyes while the testosterone that is off playing house. You are about to offer to be the villain in cops and robbers when the incredibly stupid sounding happened.
A glowing rainbow meteorite crashed into your backyard, giving you and your brother's special powers.
Five years later, your parents die, leaving you in the hands of your oldest brother. He, in complete depression, bought an island with the chuck of change that your parents left him to take care of you with, and on it built, what he called, the Fortress of Justice. His plan was to become a clan of superheroes that fought to protect their city. You went along with it, even enjoyed it for a few years.
Then you turned seventeen.
Your brother's threw you a party, cake, streamers, the whole nine yards, plus a foot. You were about to open your presents when he made himself known.
He was your ultimate downfall, your brothers always said why you're so bad in the first place.
He called himself 'Final Day'. He wanted to take over the world, like a lot of the villains, and, like a lot of villains, he failed. But Final Day was different. In your eyes, he was perfect, just misguided.
He kidnapped you. For two weeks. He was never mean, or rude. He was very fair, and kind, and never once did he hit you. You weren't in a cell block, or in a small room under surveillance, lock and key. Instead, you were given a bed, three meals a day-your choice, and you had all the privacy you wanted.
But never once, did you leave his side.
Never once, did you sleep in your bed.
In those two weeks, you fell for each other, him bringing out something in you that you didn't think existed—villainy. When your brother's finally 'rescued' you, you didn't want to leave. The villains you faced after that were a bore; you could spot out their plans before they had time to reach Part B. Your brother's just thought that you were getting better at spotting evil.
Well, that much was true, you could spot it, but not because you wanted to stop it, but because you were attracted to it, seduced by it.
You left your brothers when you were eighteen, went to work for a man who wanted to take over the world, and hadn't talked to them in a few years.
Except for that time . . . but that didn't count . . . that was less than five hours, and you didn't really try to kill them.
But today, oh, today . . . when you're sitting behind two inches of Plexiglas, sitting in an orange jumpsuit, hair still fried from the electric shock you experienced when your teenage foe kicked you into a tower and made it crumble . . . you want to wipe the too-good smile off of your older brother's face.
"Harold," Shego snapped into the two way phone.
Hego's smile widened, "Susan."
Shego rolled her eyes, "What are you doing here?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
Shego sat back into her chair, "Oh, I don't know," she leaned forward and stared into his face, "MOCKING ME?"
Hego shook his head, "Why, no little sister, I'm bailing you out."
"Say what?"
Hego did bail out his sister and her employer on three conditions, which, Shego, in turn, had trouble agreeing to.
But, after some talk with Dr. Drakken and another concert by Junior, she agreed.
Condition Number One:
Shego walked into the new house, with a disgusted look on her face and sighed deeply.
"Look at it this way," Dr. Drakken said from behind her. She turned to face him, "No more of that awful singing from that big chest-ed, twice named brat, and we get fluffy pillows."
"Yeah, but look what we gave up."
Dr. Drakken sat down his bags, "We get a new start?"
"In a house in Upperton, Colorado, constantly under surveillance by my brothers, in the middle of the biggest development of look a like dwelling places since . . . since . . . "
"We're not in jail . . ."
"We're not free either."
Condition Number Two
"Well," Dr. Drakken said, "We kinda are, we can go anywhere we want . . . buy things . . ."
"Yeah," Shego cut in, "Anywhere, as long as it's in Upperton, things, as long as they aren't weapons . . ."
"Hey, you're the one that said we should go along with your brother. Not me."
"You weren't the one sharing a cell block with DNAmy."
"Susan . . ."
"Gah," Shego threw up her arms, "I hate that. I hate the name Susan."
"Well, you can always change it . . . you don't have to go by Susan, as long as it's not Shego."
"I've been going by Shego for eleven years. I like the name . . . DREW."
"One of your brother's conditions was, we were to start over, not as Drakken and Shego, but as Drew and Susan. Civilians. You know that . . ." he trailed.
Condition Number Three
". . . It's on our marriage license," he finished.
"Look, don't remind me. I get the master bedroom suite, and you get the room down the hall."
"Yes, yes, that was what I was going to suggest." He bent down to pick up the bags again.
Shego started up the stairs, she turned down to him sharply, "and don't you get any ideas. I may have your last name now . . . but that does not mean that I'm going to do anything!"
Drakken stepped back, "why was one of the conditions marriage?"
Shego turned back to look at Dr. Drakken, "They think that if they don't step in and control my life, I will never live it. If I don't get married on my own . . ."
"You'll never get married, right . . ." Drakken nodded, "mother is like that . . . she'll be mad that she missed the ceremony . . ."
"What ceremony? You mean the one with the Court House Judge that happened to be their when Hego bailed us out?"
"Well, yeah."
Shego let out a huff of air, "men . . . I swear!"
"Shego . . ."
"What?" she snapped.
"Why did they want me? You know, as husband? I'm like twelve years older than you . . ."
Shego turned again, her face softer, "Their my big brothers . . . their only concern when it comes to me is my safety . . . they saw what you did in Go City, and thought you'd do it if I were ever in any kind of trouble."
"But, Shego," Drakken shrugged, "You know I would . . ."
"Right," she turned to keep going up the stairs, "fluffy pillows here I come!"
"You know," Drakken said from behind her, "Global Justice holding facilities do always treat you better than state prisons . . ."
Shego rolled her eyes, "and their a lot easier to break out of . . ." she mumbled.
So, I realise that this is extreamly confusing, but, I PROMISE YOU that everything will be explained by the end . . . which is a good twenty, twenty five, or more . . . it really depends wheater I make it a trilliogy . . . then It would be longer . . .
Please Review, I write better knowing that someone IS reading . . .
