I really do love this story. It's so interesting to write. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy making it.


"What if it doesn't work?" I ask into her shoulder, feeling sleep threatening to fill every exposed part of me. Her hand pulses on mine the simplest yet most comforting motion.

"If it doesn't work, it doesn't work." She keeps staring ahead of her as if there is something to see in the slate-painted walls before her.

"It has to work." I'm muttering, barely noticing what I'm saying. She takes my hand into hers fully and puts her other on top.

"I love you anyway."

I'm shocked momentarily when I blink out of the past. My daydreams melt into reality. I try to stop it; I try to remain in the present, in the real world but it always seems to fail. It's so much nicer to be with her, even in the setting of that grey, awful building. Even that is far more desirable than the oak paneled court room. She's on the other side of this room, looking at me, that tight, quiet grin somehow both calming and quickening my heart.

I want to hear the lawyers. I want to hear the testimonies, the arguments; I want to know what they're saying about her, but I can't. I can't bear it if they say something I don't agree with, so I tune them out and I keep my eyes fixed on her when my mind isn't dreaming. All of a sudden, the judge is speaking. I seem to have missed the jury going to deliberate. I ignore the thought of time skipping again.

The verdict stands.

The verdict what? I blink at the rate of film from a projector and the scene before my eyes shutters rapidly. My ears reverse and sound leaves me, save for the rushing of my own blood in my veins. With my shuttering vision, I remember to duck as we planned. Swiftly setting fire to the wooden wall behind the judge, I see my Shego, the woman I once knew, come back into the hull that I had found recently. The ignition of her hands matches the blaze in her eyes, a burn that I have not seen since graduation.

I follow her as we vault over dividers and spectator seats. We push people aside and all I know is that I must have her hand in mine, so I follow until I can put it there safely. Security all over the building seems to have been alerted and they're running at us by the dozen. Unfortunate that they underestimate what she and I are capable of. I run sideways into a wall and continue my forward motion, using my hands on the heads of the guards to keep me above them. Shego vaults over them two at a time, pulling them into one another and creating a tumbling wave of bodies.

As we find ourselves at the far end of the mass of guards, we hear several voices calling out for us to freeze. This means guns. We both know it and we both know what to do. We continue ahead at full sprint and we start to weave from side to side in the narrow hall, ducking and rising to add to our evasion. The bullets fly wildly around us and I wonder if the armed guards are even trying to aim.

With a response like that, we know that the real police are on their way, not that we can't outwit them as well. It would however, be far simpler to avoid the officers. I feel myself thrown roughly through a glass panel. As I roll back into my sprint, I see that Shego had been the one to pull me as she jolts her own body back up. We run into a room, slam and lock the door, the next room, slam and lock, and one more before she skitters to a stop and looks expectantly out the window.

"You're sure he's there?"

"He promised."

"You trust a promise alone?" She breathes heavily and her fingertips are going ghost white with the force she's clutching the windowsill.

"I trust him." She takes a brief second to look me head to toe and back.

"Okay." She says with certainty as she puts her hand on the glass. Her hands glow green and the area is suddenly molten, cascading over the edge of the windowsill and building. She shakes off her hands as the material begins to harden again and looks towards me.

"Ready?" She asks over her shoulder while climbing into the new hole. I breathe deep and she smiles.

As I blink, I find that we're not in the building anymore. In fact, it's several blocks behind us.

"Diplomat car. Nice touch." Shego admires, looking carefully out of the tinted windows of the black sedan.

"It's so we can look legit." Ron smiles from the front seat, his meticulous chauffeur uniform just slightly too big for his slim frame. I don't feel safe exactly, but I do feel like we are most definitely in the clear.

"What did you do with the Laotian Head of Agriculture anyway?" I ask, feeling smug and confident in how the emergency backup plan has played out.

"The what now?" Shego asks, turning her attention back to me from outside. I grin at her.

"We didn't tell the whole, entire plan. It turns out, the Head of Agriculture from Laos is in town today and has a driver service in an exceptionally regular vehicle. The sort of vehicle that doen't look out of place." I squeeze her hand as my adrenaline stoked blood courses through me and makes me shake.

"Very nice." She puts her hand on my leg and turns a small, soothing circle with her forefinger.

"KP?" Ron has so far done very well hiding his apprehension about everything, but it appears to be wearing thin and his voice cracks as he questions.

"What's up?"

"Are you sure it's gonna be there?" In the rear view, I can see a light wash of distrust in his eyes. I turn to Shego and I squeeze her hand. She looks insulted. I squeeze harder.

"What do you take me for , you buffoon?" The atmosphere in the car has taken a hairpin turn to extremely tense. I have to take the match away from the powder keg so I shuffle closer to Shego and take her face into my hands. Perhaps a little coarse, but all is forgiven when I place my lips to hers. Instantly, her body slackens and her once tight jaw loosens. Her body is putty for my molding, my arms and hands nothing more than tools for me to gather her. In my own body, I feel like I can finally take a full breath again. It has been a long time. Her lips are soft and they taste like ice without being cold. I have never been allowed to be this close to her. When we fought; we touched, we tumbled, but ultimately we hurt. When she was in prison, a half dozen eyes always watched us and I could never come to know her as I am now.

Now I can feel her - truly feel her.

The recent quirks that plague me are at this moment, exceptional, lending what they take from my senses to other functions. Wherever my skin touches hers, I am aware of her beating blood. Her heart is going faster than mine. She twitches just before her hand touches a different part of my arm. Her breath stutters very slightly every time our lips leave one another and she grins every time they return. The air feels like a wave as it leaves her nose and washes over my skin, drawing speckles of my skin up. Off in the distance, the car hums around us and farther out, another sound invades. Disturbed from my observations of my green girl, I linger before I reluctantly let go of her kiss.

Without removing myself too far from her, I take in my surroundings. The far off sound was...traffic?

"We're downtown."

"Yup." Ron answers quietly from the driver seat. "Not to break up the love-fest but Shego, what's the exact place I'm going?" Shego, who has apparently been in a little trance, stops staring at me and shakes her head back to reality. Her eyes go wide and she blinks a few times. I giggle at her, feeling my stomach flutter and knowing my role in her lost state.

"We're...It's up the uh... the interstate. We ride that out for about forty miles and the place is, well, literally under a rock."

"And that should be fully stocked?"

"It's one of Drakken's most recent lairs. No guarantees, but it's probably our best bet." Ron looks unconvinced, but nods at his instructions. As I settle back against Shego again, I can feel a flood of fear engulf us all. I swallow hard, trying to swallow the sudden urge to vomit. I watch as Shego balls her fists hard and see Ron's head bobbling around in tiny movements. He's scared. He's looking for something to be following us.

We're silent. It's so quiet that I can hear the pull of the high quality engine even though its designed to be silent. I can hear the tires as they tear carefully at the asphalt. I can hear Ron's light and methodic breath as it exits his mouth. Outside the window, the city rolls by us. Metallic blue and glassy silvers streak by my vision and put me into a soft place. With her heartbeat resonating against my skin, I am entranced.