Shego balanced on one foot as she read the flight arrival times on the airport marquee. The only flight arriving from New Jersey in the time frame Drakken had given her had landed over thirty minutes prior. Shego suspected she was late, but she hadn't been able to park the hover car as conveniently at the airport as she had back at the veterinary clinic. And lacking the crutch, it took her far longer than her pride enjoyed to get into the terminal.

"Shego?"

The familiar voice behind her brought a lump to her throat. She swallowed it down and took a deep, slow breath in through her nose. She was about to turn around, when a glint of light on her ring caught her attention. She quickly took the ring off and zipped it inside her jacket pocket. She wasn't sure how Drakken wanted to announce their engagement, but she knew this wasn't it.

"Shego, is that you?"

She turned around with a smile. "Hi, Mrs. Lipsky. I came to pick you up."

"Oh," the older woman blinked in confusion. "I expected Drew to pick me up."

"He's busy."

"With what?"

"With..." Shego paused. With what indeed? She knew he wouldn't want her to tell the truth. But they hadn't discussed a lie to tell, either. She settled for something in between. "With cleaning. We had a bit of an accident in the lai— Ah... In the...apartment, and he needed to take care of a few things."

"Oh my! Is he okay?"

Shego fought the instinct to grimace as she continued to balance on her left leg, which was now tiring. "Yes, he's fine."

"Oh my, you had me worried for a moment. Shego, would you be a dear and carry my bags for me? I've been wandering around looking for Drew for almost fifteen minutes, and I'm afraid my old arms just aren't built for this anymore."

Shego thought back to a number of bone-crushing hugs the woman had given Drakken and raised her brow. But despite that, she lifted her braced wrist. "Actually...ah..."

"Oh my!"

Shego had the sudden sense that that phrase was about to be on repeat in her head for the next two days.

"Well, I'll just get one of these nice airport men to help..."

Mrs. Lipsky set her two bags down— Two? Why does she need two? —and hurried to catch the attention of one of the couriers in the baggage claim. Shego hopped on her good foot to face the direction the woman had gone and watched her red hair travel a short distance through the sea of people, and then return with a tall young man at her side.

"Here we are. Now just lead the way, dear. I had the most trying flight down. Seven and a half hours..."

Shego hopped again as the courier picked up the bag closest to her, and Mrs. Lipsky noticed for the first time the younger woman's difficulty.

"Is something wrong with your foot?"

"My leg, actually."

"What is it?"

Shego took a deep breath again, but then frowned. "The dog got in my way decorating the tree and I fell and got impaled by a glass icicle."

Mrs. Lipsky blinked at her, her face familiarly unreadable.

"Well that was very silly of you, dear."

Shego's frown deepened.

The courier spoke up. "I can go get a wheelchair for you, if that would—"

"No," Shego interrupted, limping forward. "We need to get going. That storm is coming in fast."

"Oh!" Mrs. Lipsky said, catching up to Shego's side as the courier hefted her bags. "Will we have a white Christmas after all?"

Shego bit her cheek to stop her instinctive scowl. "No. But maybe a hurricane."

The gasp at her elbow gave her a small feeling of satisfaction. But it wasn't nearly enough to combat the deep pain in her leg every time she took a step.

Five minutes time found them at the hover car, with the courier loading the bags into the back alongside the dog crate that Shego had proactively moved.

"Oh!" Mrs. Lipsky exclaimed as the dog barked in greeting. "It's Admiral Cuddles! He wasn't hurt when you fell, was he?"

Shego clenched her teeth as she opened the hover car's dome. "We thought he ate an ornament, but it was a false alarm."

"Oh my!"

Shego added to her mental tally. Was that five, or six? She decided every 'oh' spoken in the same tone counted, too.

"Buckle up, and we can get this show on the road..." she said, sliding carefully into the driver's seat. Her leg throbbed now with every heartbeat.

"Shego! Someone...someone keyed Drew's fancy hover car! What does that mean?"

Shego blinked, suddenly remembering the damage and the dirty word left by the man at the vet's office. She glanced at Mrs. Lipsky's confused and worried face. "Uh..." She thought quickly. "It's a gang name."

"Oh no..."

Seven...

"Drew hasn't been targeted by some...by some tropical mafia, has he?"

Shego rolled her eyes. "No... It was...it was my fault," she said, not having the energy for a lie as she powered up the vehicle and sped off into the night. The clouds were darkening the starry sky and she wanted to get back to the lair before it rained if at all possible.

"You? Now Shego...you're not being tempted back to the ways of the underworld, are you? Drew told me you had seen the light too, after those awful aliens came."

Shego gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"No, I'm not."

"Well, that's a relief! I told Drew he couldn't have anyone working for him who was morally compromised in any way."

'Arf! Arf! Arf! Arf!'

Shego grit her teeth. I love him... It's only two days...

"Oh—"

Eight...

"—You won't believe what happened to me on my flight! It started out just fine of course. I boarded and the attendant helped me find my seat..."

It's only two days... It's only two days...

Drakken was dressed in a thin white t-shirt and baggy, ripped jeans as he and the henchmen frantically cleaned the living room. He paused just for a moment to wipe sweat off his brow before continuing to sweep up the pine needles and broken glass. He had been working nonstop since Shego left, and as the hour approached the time when she would return with his mother he was beginning to grow anxious about finishing the task.

He had started with the easy things—making up the best guest room for his mother and wrapping presents—and then had ordered the henchmen to start cleaning while he made the lair civilian-proof. He had set new codes on every door, hidden every scrap of technology that looked even remotely like it would be used for world-domination, and decorated his desk with news articles about his heroism against the Lorwardians. His medal from the UN, thankfully, was already mounted on the wall.
When his mother arrived, she would see a new man devoted to a life of making the world a better place through his scientific inventions. The lab had been set up in advance with little things he had come up with just for that purpose—a wireless communication device 'for the military,' a rechargeable car battery that would help save on fossil fuels and thus help the environment, and the blueprints for some advanced bionics. For prosthetics, he would tell his mother. His intent of course was for his own new doomsday robots. Which he hadn't exactly told Shego about yet... But that could wait.

After two hours he had finished his work and calmly returned to the living room, to find that the henchmen had only succeeded in righting the tree and untangling the lights. A solid minute of screaming that left him with a pounding headache had gotten them moving, and now he had joined them in a frantic attempt to just make the room presentable. Decorating would be a different feat altogether.

He tasked one of them with separating the undamaged decorations from the damaged ones, and another with cleaning up the dog poop as he began the sweeping. The adage 'if you want something done right, do it yourself' seemed to apply to the situation as he used the massive janitorial broom from the basement to sweep up the mess. If he let the henchmen do it, it would be Valentine's Day before they were done.

"Hey Boss?" a deep voice made him pause in his task and turn.

"Yes...uh...Garth, what is it?"

The very large man who'd spoken was sitting on the sofa, his weight notably depressing it. He had dozens of tiny, delicate decorations laid out on the newly-cleaned coffee table.

"Which of these you want set up?"

Drakken dropped the broom and stepped over to the table. Shego appeared to have bought one of everything remotely 'Christmas-y,' including a classic Nativity set.

"Um...put that snowman on the TV, and...the praying Santa and manger on the kitchen table... Oh and heck, put all the reindeer and sleigh on my desk. Start with that."

"You got it," the man said, lifting his girth off the sofa. Drakken backed away with a slight grimace, and quickly returned to his sweeping.

His head still pounded from the yelling he had done earlier, but he ignored it as he hurriedly continued his task. The anxious tingling he felt throughout his nervous system wasn't helping either as he thought of his mother's impending arrival.

He had intended to create a home-away-from-home for her—a snow-less winter wonderland at the equator—but now it looked like he would be lucky to even have the tree decorated.

He paused the sweeping again and wiped his brow with the edge of his shirt and then stared up at the tree, hands on his hips and the broom handle in the crook of his arm. Only a few of the branches had broken, which was all right because Shego hadn't trimmed the tree at all and it sorely needed it. The henchmen had removed the lights and all the decorations, and put water back in the stand.

"Brooks? Where are you?" Drakken called when he saw he was alone in the room.

"Coming, Boss," the other henchman who had stayed for Christmas—a much older man, even older than him—said as he hurried back through the door. "I cleaned up the dog doo and sanitized the floor like you asked."

"Good. You...finish this sweeping, so I can get started on the tree."

"Right away, Boss."

Drakken passed off the broom and then left to find his garden shears. The extra boughs could be used to decorate the mantel above the fireplace in his office, and maybe a little in the kitchen if there was an appropriate space. He'd have to look at that one.

For the next hour he trimmed the tree, passed boughs off to Garth who took them to continue decorating around the lair, and was handed ornaments of his choosing by Brooks. Due to all the damage that Admiral Cuddles had caused, the tree decorations ended up being more of a colorful patchwork than the nice, neat theme he knew his mother would have preferred. He personally preferred the variety.

He wondered what kind of decorations Shego would have liked...

As soon as he'd topped the tree with a transparent glass star trimmed in gold glitter, he felt the throbbing in his head increase two-fold and the sizzling of his nerves reach a boiling point. He shakily descended the ladder, gripping its legs with both hands the whole way down, and then staggered back to lean against the couch.

"It's beauty-ful, Boss."

Drakken looked over to where Brooks and Garth were standing together, the former leaning on the broom handle and the latter holding a dustpan. He looked around the room and found it almost spotless.

"Good job," he acknowledged. Their pleased smiles made him cringe just a bit. "Now...make yourselves invisible for the next two days, and there'll be a big bonus in your next check."

The two men happily gathered up the cleaning supplies and headed toward the stairs that led down to their domain.

Drakken stepped toward the couch and practically fell onto the cushions. He set his elbows on his knees and held his aching head in both hands, fingers pressing small circles against his temples. His nervous system was still tinging on and off, and he realized his stomach was hurting too.

He hadn't eaten all day. Which meant Shego hadn't eaten all day. His eyes widened. Neither had Admiral Cuddles.

He rose from the couch intending to go start dinner, but paused to take one last look around the room. It was still very lair-like, but...it was actually looking a bit like Christmas. A tired smile curled up the corners of his mouth.

Just then, the door atop the stairs burst open. A familiar figure with towering, red hair stepped through holding the dog crate.

"Where's my Drewbie?"

"Mother!" he greeted, surprised at the shaking of his voice.

She set the crate down and let the dog out, who began running and bounding in circles around the newly-cleaned room.

Drakken met his mother at the foot of the stairs and then gasped at her bone-crushing hug, followed by the smack of her lipstick against his cheek.

"How's my handsome hero of a son? Let me look at you," she said, stepping back. Her eyes widened. "Oh, my!"

"Thirty-seven."

Drakken looked up in confusion to where Shego had appeared in the doorway. She was leaning against the frame, arms crossed and a frown on her face.

"Son, what have you been doing?"

Drakken remembered then the dirty, filthy clothes he had put on while cleaning.

"Oh, ah...I was doing a lot of cleaning, Mother," he said.

'Arf! Arf!'

Drakken reached down to pick up the dog that was pawing at his leg. His mother took a step back.

"Does Admiral Cuddles like your fancy apartment, Drew?"

"Yes," Drakken said, cradling the dog as it licked his chin. "Shego, what did the vet say?"

"He's fine," Shego answered from the doorway, still frowning.

"Now Drew, I hope you vacuumed up all of his fur before I came..."

"Well, you know Mother—"

"It's very unhealthy to have all that dander around, floating through the air and getting into your lungs."

Drakken sighed. "I'll have the hench— Ah...one of my interns, go through the kitchen. But this room has just been swept."

"And what about your other rooms? You know I'll want a tour of your lovely home."

"Ah...y-yes, Mother. All in due time."

"You're right dear. Why don't you bring my bags to my room, first? They're out in your fancy car."

Drakken felt the throbbing in his head increase. He stepped around his mother and went up the stairs to the door. When he looked at Shego still leaning against the door frame, she had an all-too-familiar frown on her face.

He squeezed past her and out to the balcony. He supposed she was mad at having been stuck in the hover car with his mother for an hour. He'd have to think of some way to make it up to her later on.

A roll of distant thunder drew his eyes to the horizon where dark clouds were billowing as he approached the hover car. He got his mother's two small suitcases out and set the dome-cover on the vehicle just in case it rained. He headed quickly back inside.

Shego was still leaning in the door frame, and now Admiral Cuddles was pawing at her legs. Unusually, she seemed to be ignoring him.

"Ah, Shego..." he said as he squeezed past her again. "Would you mind feeding him? He hasn't eaten all day. And he's probably thirsty."

She blinked at him, and he saw a muscle along her jaw twitch. The dog changed its focus to sniffing at his shoes.

"O-or I could feed him, don't worry about it," he said, hurrying back down the stairs to where his mother was examining the tree.

"Drew... Why didn't you do it up like we used to when you were a boy? With all the little white doves?"

"Eh... Well actually, there was a little trouble—"

"Did your assistant do the decorating? I've never really cared for this hodgepodge-style..."

Drakken glanced up at Shego, whose eyes had grown wider and her frown even deeper.

"Now I would like to freshen up before dinner," Mrs. Lipsky said. "Which way is my room? And I'm sure you'll want to change too, dear. Those awful clothes look like hand-me-downs from your cousin Eddie."

"Ah...your room is down this way, Mother," he said, gesturing to the hallway. She started on ahead of him as he hefted up the bags.

"Drakken."

He turned back to where Shego was glaring at him.

"Sorry. I...we can talk about it later," he said, before disappearing down the hall after his mother.

Shego's heart was pounding in anger, and she felt even more sick to her stomach than before. She glanced around in the entryway again, and around the bottom of the stairs. But the second crutch the doctor had given her—which she knew she'd left right next to the door—was nowhere to be seen.

With slow, agonizing steps she limped down the stairs and headed toward the kitchen. She might as well eat something to soothe one of her ailments, and then bed was probably a good idea. It was time to get the whole awful day behind her.

The anger that was causing her heart to pound was surprisingly easy to assuage. She understood that with the exigent presence of his mother, Drakken might have simply forgotten about her injured leg. It didn't mean she wouldn't make him regret his inattentiveness later, however.

In the kitchen, she hopped on her good leg—which was hurting too now from the over-exertion—to the freezer, and pulled out one of the microwave dinners. She leaned back against the appliance as she ripped into the cardboard, her stomach hurting more than ever now that food was so soon to be had.

She put the tray in the microwave and closed the door with a bit too much force as she punched in the required three minutes. She leaned back on the counter this time, sighing heavily as she stared at the seconds counting down.

Dinner, and bed. Drakken could feed the dog. She did need to tell him wet food only, though.

She filled a glass with water from the tap and grabbed a fork. She limped around the kitchen island to set both on the table, and limped back as she saw the microwave enter its last thirty seconds.

"...It's a lovely guest room, Drew. I still can't believe you were able to buy apartments inside an old volcano!"

Shego closed her eyes and groaned just as Drakken and his mother entered the kitchen.

"Eh-heh, well..." Drakken laughed nervously. "All perks of...saving the world."

Mrs. Lipsky stopped short when she saw Shego standing in the kitchen, but Drakken walked past his mother and straight for the freezer. The microwave beeped, and Shego gratefully took her tray of macaroni out and began limping around the counter.

"A microwave dinner? Oh those are so tacky."

Shego stopped and looked back over her shoulder at Drakken, whose eyes met hers. The frozen macaroni in his hand went back into the freezer.

Shego didn't make eye contact with the older woman as she set her steaming tray down and sat heavily in the chair. "Sometimes there isn't time for anything else," she said.

"Shego, are you eating with us?"

Shego blinked in surprise at the older woman. "I always eat here."

"Oh, how nice."

Shego turned back to her meal.

"Drew," Mrs. Lipsky half-whispered. Shego's ears perked up. "Maybe you shouldn't let your assistant have dinner with you so much. I think she might still have some evil tendencies."

Shego clenched her teeth and gripped the edge of the table tightly. She gasped silently as the effort shot a pain through her sprained wrist.

She heard Drakken pull something else out of the freezer, but she didn't look to see what it was. She stabbed three yellow-cheese-covered noodles with her fork and blew on them a few times before popping them into her mouth.

"Why Drew—"

"Hey Dr. D., before I forget," Shego interrupted, "the vet said only wet food for awhile for Shorty."

"Oh," she saw his nod of acknowledgment peripherally. "All right."

Shego stirred her dish, sending more and more steam rising up from the tray. She leaned back from it. It wasn't a pleasant steam like that from a bath, but one that smelled of whatever plastic-like film covered the cardboard container the microwave dinner was kept in. It was disgusting.

The familiar sound of ripping cardboard caused her to furrow her brow, and she half-turned around to see Drakken tearing into the other macaroni, and also into one of the frozen Shepherd's pies she'd bought. Her brow rose. She saw his mother looking confused and just a bit perturbed.

"Mrs. Lipsky, why don't you tell Drew about your flight?" she suggested, turning back to her meal.

"Oh honey, you wouldn't believe everything that happened to me!"

Shego smirked and took another bite of her meal. Drakken looked away at the microwave to hide his cringe.

"What happened?" he asked.

Mrs. Lipsky moved to sit at the table next to Shego, eyeing her macaroni with disdain. Shego bit her cheek to stop the instinctive scowl.

"Well at first everything was fine. But then the woman next to me started watching this horrible, horrible movie."

"What was it called?" Drakken asked, pouring a glass of water for his mother and milk for himself.

"I don't know and I don't want to. But it had so much violence and..." she lowered her voice to a whisper, "hanky-panky."

Shego smirked and lowered her head, letting her hair obscure her expression. In the hover car it had been annoying to hear the woman talk, but now it was starting to become funny.

"Oh..."

"I asked her to turn it off, but she wouldn't. I tried explaining to her that she shouldn't watch that sort of thing, but she just ignored me. I had to sit next to those awful images for over two hours."

The Shepherd's pie came steaming out of the microwave, and Drakken set it and the water in front of his mother with a fork.

"And then the man on my other side, he had this odor coming from him. And he never got up for the whole flight. I thought about suggesting he use the plane's facilities, but I was worried if he got up that the smell would get worse!"

Drakken grimaced and leaned back on the counter as he waited for his food.

"I could go on, but I don't want to spoil your meal," Mrs. Lipsky said.

"Oh go on and tell him," Shego said. She looked up at Drakken. "There's lots more."

"I can tell you tomorrow I suppose... Oh, there was one bright spot."

Shego swallowed her bite and looked up. She didn't remember anything pleasant during the hover car ride.

"About halfway through the flight, a young man announced that he was proposing to his girlfriend and got down on one knee in front of everyone. It was a very beautiful moment."

Shego bit the inside of her cheek again. As Drakken came to sit across from her with his macaroni and milk she set both of her palms flat on the table. She saw his quick glance at her bare left hand as he sat and took a napkin from the holder next to the centerpiece. Shego looked at the new item on the table and saw that the usual vase of fresh wildflowers had been replaced with the praying Santa she'd bought. She wondered if he had set that up because he liked it, or because he thought his mother would.

"Speaking of proposals, Drew..." Mrs. Lipsky continued. Shego took a large bite of her cooling food. "Now that you're back on the straight-and-narrow, and you have something to offer a good woman...I thought it might be nice if you came back home for awhile and got to know some of your old girlfriends."

Shego's brow shot up. "Old girlfriends?"

Drakken blushed. "Just...girls, who were friends."

"Some of my friends' daughters still aren't married, sweetie. And they've still got their looks. I'm sure there would be someone to your liking. Of course at your age, you can't be too picky."

Shego turned her face away and bit into both of her cheeks to hide her laughter.

"Well, um, actually Mother—"

"You know sweetie, I'm not all that hungry after all..."

Shego looked to the dish and saw that the older woman had only taken two bites before setting her fork down. What kind of person didn't eat microwaved food once in awhile?

"But maybe some milk and cookies before turning in would be nice. And we could catch up some more."

Drakken's face fell. "There, ah...there aren't any cookies."

Mrs. Lipsky's brow rose above her green-tinted glasses. "No cookies for Christmas?"

"I didn't have time to bake any."

"But on the phone this morning you said that you were?"

Drakken sat back in the chair and sighed. "I was going to, but...but there isn't enough milk. And then after Shego got hurt...the whole day was lost."

Mrs. Lipsky sipped from her water and then turned toward Shego.

"Yes... Shego it's very...attentive of you to stay for dinner, but if you're hurt shouldn't you go on home and take care of yourself? And you must have family to be with tomorrow."

Shego blinked once, and then again at Drakken's mother. She turned her eyes to Drakken, who was biting his lower lip nervously. Her amusement vanished in an instant.

"I live here," she said, straightening in her chair.

Mrs. Lipsky's brow rose again, before slowly narrowing behind her glasses.

"Oh. Drew didn't tell me that."

"But you're right, it's been a long day and I should turn in. Good night, Mrs. Lipsky. Dr. Drakken," she said, giving him a slight glare.

Shego had finished her small tray of food anyway, and after drinking down all of her water, she carefully pushed herself up from the table with her good hand and stood on her good leg. She took one limping step away from the table before Drakken was on his feet.

"Shego, why are you— Where's your crutch?"

"Lost it at the vet."

His brow furrowed. "Weren't there two?"

"I left it by the door, but it's gone," she said, shrugging. Her face bled annoyance.

Drakken frowned. "The henchme—ah, I...mean the interns—" he corrected nervously.

"Interns?" his mother asked.

"I'll...tell you about them tomorrow, Mother. Right now, I...I'm going to help Shego to her room. She shouldn't be putting weight on her leg. It's about time for bed anyhow."

"You're not coming back?"

Drakken had already stood and moved around to Shego's side.

"I...yes, I'm coming back," he said, looking at his half-finished tray of food.

"All right. Good night Shego, it was good to see you again."

"Good night."

Drakken set an arm around Shego's waist, and she an arm around his shoulder. They took several slow, awkward steps out of the kitchen, since it was her bad wrist that she had around him for support.

As soon as they had turned the corner and were out of his mother's sight-line, he scooped Shego up in his arms and walked briskly away toward the hallway. They were surrounded by the safety of the narrow rock corridor moments later, and Drakken breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well..." Shego said, looking up at him, "that went well."

Drakken scowled. "That was horrible."

"Yep. I can't decide now if New Jersey would have been worse or not," she said with a smirk.

Drakken continued more slowly down the hallway. "Worse. My 'old girlfriends' would have been there."

"Yeah, about that... Your mother doesn't seem to like me anymore."

"I noticed," he said. "Did you say something when you picked her up?"

Shego's eyes narrowed. "No. I barely said a word to her. I just let her talk my ear off. You owe me big, you know."

"I know..."

Shego sighed.

Drakken reached his room and stopped outside the door without opening it.

"What are you stopping for?"

"Ah... Did you want to sleep in my room...or yours?"

"I know which your mother would choose."

"Shego!" he scolded.

She sighed again. "Your room."

She noticed a slight relief come to Drakken's eyes as he unlocked the door and carried her inside.

Drakken paused just inside the doorway with a frown. He hadn't been back to his room since before he started cleaning the lair, so it was just the same as it had been that morning. Except now it also had his lab coat and favored work attire draped on the clothes rack by his wardrobe.

"Ah... Give me a minute," he said, and gently set her in one of his chairs.

She watched as he rapidly stripped the bed of its sheets, bundled them up and tossed them through the bathroom door at the laundry basket. He took a fresh set from his bottom dresser drawer and hurriedly began spreading them out over the bed.

He paused suddenly, bending down out of her sight on the other side of the bed and reaching for something on the ground. She leaned forward to see, and then he rose holding up her sheer red bra and panty set.

"Where...where do you want these?" he asked, blushing.

A small smirk turned up the corners of her mouth. "On the dresser is fine."

He crossed the moat and laid the items there with care, a tiny anxious wrinkle creasing his forehead as he did so. It made her smirk grow. She watched as he continued to make up the bed. The sweat-stained thin t-shirt he wore showed everything underneath, and the ripped jeans made him look tough and edgy. Except of course that the jeans matched his skin-color, so the effect wasn't as profound as she thought it could be.

"You look sexy in those clothes," she said.

He glanced at her with a tiny, appreciative smile, but didn't slow down in his task.

"Where's your ring?" he asked.

"In my pocket," she said, feeling through the leather jacket until she found the telltale circular shape. "She hasn't seen it. But I don't think she'll be happy to, now."

He finished tucking in the sheets and smoothed out the bedspread. "We can figure out how to tell her...tomorrow. Do you need anything?"

Shego thought a moment. "A nightgown. And...I might have torn open one of the stitches," she said.

Drakken cringed, and nodded. "Okay... Hold on."

He left the room in a rush, making sure to glance both ways down the hallway before dashing into Shego's room. The engagement was supposed to be a surprise—almost a present, for his mother. Not something she found out about because she caught him sneaking in and out of Shego's bedroom. Of course, it was a risk having Shego in his room at all with his mother there... But he was hoping to avoid explaining that.

He looked in her dresser and found...too many nightgowns. He had no idea which one she would want and so just grabbed the first one. Then he grabbed her entire first aid kit—his own was lacking in supplies of late—and rushed back to his room.

She hadn't moved of course, when he got back, and he found himself sighing in relief. He set the items down on the bed and quickly crossed the room to meet her open arms.

"I'll just...go say goodnight to Mother, and I'll be right back," he said as he carried her to the bed.

"Take your time..." she said with an eye-roll.

"I'll be right back," he repeated, and disappeared back through the door.

Shego scooted slowly and painfully onto the bed and looked at the nightgown he'd brought. It was practical, but barely reached her knees and wouldn't cover the bandage. She probably should have asked for pajamas...