A/N: Thanks once again for the nudging of ideas from split-n-splice, without whom I would be lost.
23. Bows
December, 2006
"Why am I doing this again?" Shego complained.
Drakken was unfazed as he took up the scissors to curl the ribbon as Shego held the knot with one finger, her cheek resting boredly on the fist of her other hand.
"Because when Mother asks which ones you wrapped you'll be able to answer truthfully," Drakken said, dragging the scissors over the ribbon and then watching it spring back into a tight coil.
"And why do we care about being honest? We're villains," Shego complained, switching fingers and fists.
"Because, she will inevitably find some way to either make you prove it or humiliate you."
"Like she'd do that on purpose..." Shego muttered.
Drakken blinked. "Do you remember the muffin incident?"
Shego raised her head as she blinked at the recollection. Apparently, baking was an essential skill. And Mama Lipsky was an expert at passive aggressively making a person feel inferior while sounding encouraging at the same time.
Shego pushed her hair back and gestured with her hand for Drakken to give her the scissors. His brow rose, and a smile curled at the corners of his lips as a look of gratitude twinkled in his eyes.
They swapped, Drakken's finger replacing hers in holding the knot as she furrowed her brow and took the scissors to the ribbon.
"Uh..."
"You weren't watching, were you," Drakken said.
"We never got to do this stuff," Shego said in protest. Drakken didn't respond, and an awkwardness fell over the moment. Shego fought the more dominant instinct to turn and leave, but instead went with the more vulnerable and uncomfortable choice. "It's not something you think about when you're a kid. You always think you'll have time to learn things 'later.' But then there wasn't a later."
She felt like an idiot, babbling on about a past she didn't want to think about but that haunted her too frequently. She was rapidly sinking into the swirl of upsetting thoughts that always came when she recalled her life before the comet, but she snapped out of it suddenly when Drakken's hand covered hers.
He guided her fingers and thumb to hold the ribbon, his securely atop hers, and helped her drag the blade across the fabric. She watched in fascination as the end of the ribbon sprung away into a coil, not quite as perfect as the ones Drakken had done, but still festive and cheery.
He left his finger in place holding the knot as she grabbed the stick-on bow and then put it in place. She glanced at him, and he nodded to her to continue as he sat back with a soft smile. She adjusted the coiled ribbons around the bow until it looked just right to her eye.
"Perfect," he said, his smile growing, and then he grabbed the next package to wrap.
Shego felt something loosen in her chest that she hadn't known was tense. Or rather, it was always tense and she had just gotten used to it.
She might not have learned when she had expected to, and may not have the memories she wanted, but...
She watched Drakken cut the wrapping paper for the next gift.
The new memories she was making were just as precious.