~o0o~
It was a beautiful spring day as the lone prison transport rumbled along the Colorado highway. Inside the vehicle, a few handcuffed prisoners sat and talked amongst themselves. One, however, remained silent and alone. He stood out with his heavily scarred face and dark glasses, his missing hands replaced by prosthetic limbs ever since his tussle with Shego at Faux's tavern those many moons ago. Black, shoulder length hair framed his once attractive features, his olive skin and large build harking back to a time of Greek gods.
He tilted his head at the deep rumble of a motorbike passing, his ears filling in for his ruined eyes.
"How far till the next town?" he asked, in a deep baritone.
"Don't you worry about that, son. You just sit there and enjoy the wonderful sights of our great State while you can," a guard replied.
He listened to the resounding laughter of his fellow prisoners and the bullish guards, smoldering in his impotence. He consoled himself with knowing what was to come. Sure enough, in another few minutes he felt the transport slow and exit the highway. It was accompanied by raised voices amongst the guards, querying the driver as to why.
He almost lost his seating as the bus came to a juddering stop, the sounds of shotguns being cocked.
"George, get us back on the road or– What the hell!" a guard exclaimed.
"He's oozin' smoke or somethin'!" another guard cried out.
The whole bus shuddered as the front lifted off the ground, followed by the tortured scream of twisting metal. There were yells of shock and surprise from all onboard, but the screams of the guards were quickly and with flesh grinding finality cut off. After an eternity of destruction, the vehicle slammed back to the ground. And in the dizzying silence, two more thuds rang out nearby.
"Fuckin' cool, man! It's a jailbreak!" a prisoner yelled.
"With flying saucers and ray guns and stuff!" another felon said as he banged on the window in excitement.
"Ho-ly shit! Dat dere smoke turned into a girl!"
"Who's cute."
"And grey!"
"I'd do 'er!"
"Alphanso Malle?" a woman's voice timidly called out.
Alphanso smiled, his promised freedom finally at hand. Months of painful recuperation and adjustment, and soon he would be able to enact his revenge on the green skinned, she-bitch who had done this to him. He stood up, his sightless gaze trying to orientate on the woman.
"Him, th-that one," the woman said. "And you at the front, the cute one. What's your name?"
"…Gary."
"And grab Gary as well."
"The rest can stay and die!" a man's voice boomed out. "No witnesses!"
There were shouts and a lot of panicking from the prisoners as their death sentences were announced, followed by the shriek and groan of a reinforced door being ripped from its hinges. Alphanso calmly listened on as scuffles broke out, that quickly turned into screams of pain and fear. It sounded like a butchers shop, the slicing of metal through flesh, the dying crying out, while the dead were cut short. He touched his cheek as something wet sprayed against his face, the tang of blood rich in the air.
Solid footsteps stopped in front of him, then a hand grabbed him by the shoulder.
"Come with me," a man commanded.
Alphanso was big and burly, and in great shape despite his condition, but he found himself pulled along like a leaf in the wind. Whoever had him, they were seriously strong. He was kept upright as he stumbled into body after body, and soon he was outside in the fresh air. He turned his blind gaze to the warmth of the sun, enjoying his first taste of freedom in months.
"Wh-What the fuck are you?" Gary asked.
"They're super villains," Alphanso said with a sneer.
"They're cyborgs," the woman replied.
"What are cyborgs–?" Alphanso and Gary both said at once.
"Put them onboard and fire up the grav-atomic ray," a cyborg ordered. "Atomize everything! Leave nothing behind!"
Alphanso swore as he and Gary were manhandled onto some sort of aircraft, then firmly strapped in next to each other. It was followed by a lot of activity before the ship took off. A strange sound then filled the air, accompanied by the familiar shriek of twisting metal.
"Oh shit! Oh fuck!" Gary exclaimed. "Some of the guys are still alive and they're– they're just crushing– killing–"
Alphanso smiled to himself at the sounds of grisly carnage and screams, and of Gary throwing up. His fellow prisoners meant nothing to him. All that mattered was the deal he had made to fix his mutilated body. To make him better. Better than better - superhuman.
The screams reached a crescendo, then deathly silence.
"Mission complete!" a cyborg announced.
~o~
Alphanso Malle stewed in his own thoughts as the aircraft winged it's way across the world. He knew they were moving, the soft hum of the engines telling him so, yet it was the smoothest flight he had ever known. What sort of ship it could be, he had no idea. He had tried to start a few conversations with his rescuers, but they had remained tight lipped no matter what he asked. It pissed him off, but he wanted the power they had. Craved it. So he wasn't going to start any altercations just yet.
There was a startled cry from Gary as the ship suddenly angled sharply downwards.
Alphanso tilted his head as the acoustics changed, realizing they were now underwater. He sneered at his blubbering companion, this Gary clearly not a hardened criminal. They were headed for a villain's lair and this woman clearly had sway, so that meant power. She had handpicked Gary as 'the cute one', so he expected Gary's freedom to be short lived and pain filled.
His sightless gaze looked up as their craft shuddered, as if they had been grabbed by some outside force. Since no one panicked, it had to be expected. Then, the comforting sound of the engines cut out. Again, no one reacted. A startled gasp from Gary was superseded by a cacophony of sounds. He could hear the sharp crack of welding, people shouting and swearing, and accompanying it all was the smell of sea water and machine oil. It give him the impression of a cross between an industrial site and an airport, especially with the drone of incoming and outgoing aircraft.
With a soft thud they landed, and soon he and Gary were marched onto solid ground. Metal by the feel.
"I hate being out like this," the mystery woman muttered from nearby.
Alphanso was adept enough in his blindness to hear a wave of silence moving towards them, frowning as it stopped right in front of him.
"Ah, Sue, welcome back. How did the mission go?" a nasally man's voice asked.
Alphanso found the speaker's tone annoying, even grating, but he could hear the steel of command in the question. This was him, the villain, the one who could fix him. He recognized the voice, but could not place it. He had never played in the world of super villains, so how and why he knew it was beyond him. Right now it did not matter, and he went to step forwards.
A hand slammed down on Alphanso's shoulder from behind, holding him in place. He grimaced as steely fingers dug in, but he refused to acknowledge the pain.
"You said you would fix me!" Alphanso demanded.
"This is him?" the villain asked.
"Y-Yes," the woman replied.
"And the whimpering one?"
"A new toy. I broke my last one."
"Very well. Leave us, and take your plaything with you."
Alphanso felt more than heard everyone move away, Gary yelling and crying the whole way. Alphanso glared as best he could, the restraining hand on his shoulder holding on tight.
"I waited as I was asked to do. Now, fix me!" Alphanso said, refusing to back down.
"You think you're all that, Mr. Malle, but you're not. However, I can make you so!"
"Good. Do it."
"It's rare to get willing recruits, even with what I'm offering. Hmm… Hold still."
Alphanso's glasses were removed, firm fingers grabbing his chin and turning his face this way and that. Then his prosthetic forearms were detached, and his residual limbs examined.
"A simple enough procedure to replace what you've lost," the villain stated. "Then some Lowardian tech coupled with my own designs to turn you into an unstoppable killing machine. Yes… Yes, indeed. I'll have you wreaking havoc for my world domination plans in no time."
Alphanso grinned.
"Now, take him away!"
Alphanso was led off, his heart beating faster at the thought of being whole again.
~o0o~
Mrs. Go appeared in the villa's foyer and marched towards her daughter's suite of rooms. She pushed open the main doors, then strode down a short hallway and into Shego's darkened bedroom. She was extremely happy, because after months of motherly advice the day had finally arrived.
"Rise and shine, lazybones," Mrs. Go announced to her slumbering daughter. "It's another perfect day in paradise, and you have places to be."
"G't l'st…" Shego mumbled, clutching her pillow tighter.
Mrs. Go gave a hearty chuckle at her daughter's response, and walked past the bed.
Shego cracked open an eye and watched with annoyance as her mom flung open all the curtains and the patio doors, turned on the radio, before heading up the hallway and into a walk-in wardrobe. Mrs. Go was back in a jiffy, only to lay out a jade green dress on the end of the bed for her.
"So, how are we feeling now that the big day has finally arrived?" Mrs. Go asked.
Shego just stared back from deep within the comfort of her bed. And if a look could destroy, then she was trying her darndest to remove this sleep disturbing harpy from her room.
"Well then, let's get you ready," Mrs. Go announced, grabbing the bedsheet.
Shego held on tight, but the more she struggled the more she woke. It was a losing battle. Defeated, she sat up, grumbling the whole way. She glared at her mom as the woman left the room, then caught her reflection in the floor-length mirror. She looked the same as always, though her hair definitely needed a brush. Worried eyes stared back at her from the mirror, but they also held a fire, a stubborn determination not to back down.
She knew that she needed to keep this appointment, even though every fiber of her being screamed no. She had put this off for ages, but her mom's constant reminders and cajoling had finally worn her down.
Lost in her thoughts, she barely heard the radio announce that Kim Possible had once again saved a city from another super villain.
~o~
"There's my beautiful, little girl," Mrs. Go said as she heard movement in the lounge room behind her. She closed the oven door and turned around, her eyes going wide. "Well, well, well, that's certainly an interesting look."
Shego pursed her lips but said nothing. There would be a lot more of those comments now that she had donned her disguise for the day. A pale blonde wig hid her dark hair, while some blue contacts masked her eyes, and she had used a specialized makeup to cover up her green skin with a normal person's healthy pink tone. Over it all she wore the green dress that her mom had picked out for her. It was far too girly for her tastes, but she knew she would never hear the end of it if she chose something else. She felt exposed in the light, airy thing, its open back crisscrossed by laces, it's hem above her knees. It was a world away from the tight fitting clothes she preferred.
She touched a small silver pendant hanging on a chain about her neck, her only adornment. Painfully aware that this is how she would look if the meteor had not changed her life.
"Yeah, well, don't get used to it, as I'm ripping all this stuff off the second I get home," Shego said.
"You should know by now that I don't care what you look like."
"Not even freakish green?"
Mrs. Go stood stock still for a second then threw her tea towel to the floor. She stormed towards Shego, who took a step back at her mother's reaction. Shego almost brought her glow into play, but that was never a good thing when your mother was involved. She flinched as her mom stopped right in front of her, and took her twitching hands into her own.
"You're perfect the way you are, and you should never doubt that! Red, green, purple, or blue, it's what inside that counts. It's never this." She rubbed Shego's palms with her thumbs. "Do you understand me!?"
"Yes, mama," Shego said.
Mrs. Go brought Shego's hands together and held them with her own, her steely gaze searching Shego's face. She must have found what she was after, as she nodded her head in acceptance.
"Well, now that all that silliness is over and done with, I've got some fresh fruit and croissants laid out for you," Mrs. Go said.
"Try not to sound so happy," Shego said as she followed her mom into the dining room.
"It's a big day, and you've been putting it off for ages. Your first visit to your therapist."
"Uh-huh."
"And, Firefly."
"What?"
"I want a photo for the family album, before you go."
~o0o~
Shego sat in her invisible hovercraft and looked out at the town of Middleton far below. It wasn't her first trip away from her island home, but it was her first time back here. Two years ago, overexposure had caused her to retreat from the world, and she was not making that mistake again. All she had to do was be wherever Kim was not. At first glance Middleton appeared no different than always, but she and the world knew better. She reached out and activated the craft's telescopic viewfinder, and with the warm spring sun shining in from above, she focused on the outskirts of town.
GJ and those cyborgs sure fucked up your place, Kimmie.
Dozens of houses in Kim's suburb were completely reduced to their foundations, others falling apart in disrepair and neglect. She followed the small amount of activity on the ground, teams of people moving about in hazmat suits. In fact, the whole suburb was cordoned off from the public. Unknown toxins had been found, and the government was not letting anyone move back in until it was safe. Shego had grilled her contacts as to the real reason, and was surprised to find out that it had to do with alien contaminants.
She focused on Kim's deserted house, which stood unscathed at the center of the destruction.
That's where the two cyborgs suicided, she thought, seeing two massive, craters on either side of Kim's house. She leaned forwards, her index finger tracing Kim's route across the devastation. So that'll be be where she downed the big guy. She adjusted her view. And that's where she got the last one.
She could picture it so easily, having read and followed every article, online story, and news report from that day. What had been most striking was the footage from a local television crew that had been caught up in the battle.
She closed her eyes and let it all come back to her, the dramatic ending captured on film.
A grinning female cyborg stood in the middle of the street, naked and with her skin transformed into some sort of metal. She was shooting apart a house, one of her arms a laser cannon the other a slim, blood-covered blade. She openly taunted the Global Justice agents inside as her gun morphed into something much, much bigger.
Kim came sprinting out of the dust and smoke like an angel of wrath, her singed hair streaming out behind her. She had burns to the side of her face and an eye swollen shut, her side blistered and oozing blood through her torn battlesuit. She disappeared, and when she next appeared she was descending from high above. Almost in the one motion she slammed a blade of glowing, blue energy into the cyborg's eye and then a sparking stun baton. There was an ear piercing, inhuman screech from the cyborg as she collapsed, Kim on top.
Shego would never admit that she had squeaked in surprise when Kim had pierced the cyborg's now fleshy abdomen with her glowing blade. For a split-second she had been sure Kim was killing the woman. Then Kim had stuck her hand inside the incision and ripped something out, and thrown it as far away as she could. The resulting explosion had been quite dramatic.
Kimmie's always been a badass when she's pissed.
The journalist's excited face came into camera shot, then he and the cameraman were running toward Kim. Kim stood up on wobbly legs, a hand holding her side as she looked at them with pain filled eyes. She tilted her head as she listened to something only she could hear, then her face became enraged.
Shego had seen her angry before, but never like this.
And that's when she knew I was in trouble.
Kim was off like a shot, the reporter and crew in hot pursuit. The shaky video stopped at the Possible's home, the journalist banging on the front door and demanding to be let in. He spewed out some garbage about the people having a right to know. Soon enough, Mr. Possible stepped outside, and after a few heated words, and in full view of the camera, he punched the nosy reporter square in the jaw and slammed the door shut in his face.
Shego had not had much interaction with Kim's father, but that one moment made him okay in her books. She sat there and stared at nothing for a while, stewing in her own thoughts. She knew she was putting off the inevitable, and she ran her hands down her face and sighed.
I could just stay here and pretend I went to therapy. Mama would never know. She rolled her eyes. Of course she'd know! I'd know, too. She sat back and huffed in annoyance. I promised I'd go.
She reached into her purse and pulled out a crumpled business card, the small piece of cardboard pulling her down like a lead weight. Flipping it over, she silently read the faded words: Dr. Jill Erikson, Psychologist. She itched to toss it away, to burn it into nothing, but instead she slipped it back in her handbag.
"This is going to be a fuckin disaster," she muttered.
She shook her head then piloted the invisible hovercraft to an unassuming, four story building only a block away from the Middleton Medical Center.
Kimmie may be searching the world for me, but there's no way she'd expect me to show up at her hometown on a Saturday afternoon.
~o0o~
Dr. Jill Erikson leaned back in her large, leather chair and stretched. She was a bold-looking woman of about fifty, with thick graying hair, reading glasses hanging from a chain around her neck. She wore her dark gray business suit well, the look on her face one of warmth and compassion. She did a few neck exercises as she looked out at the perfect spring day, the ridiculousness of working on the weekend once again swimming to mind.
Last patient for the day, then it's home time, she thought.
She stood and walked across her sumptuously decorated office. Everything in sight deliberately placed, from the paintings on the walls to the potted plants. She paid it all no mind, her thoughts already on her new patient. She opened the door to her waiting room and stepped outside, the comfy seat vacant.
"Barbara, has my four-o'clock called?" Dr. Erikson asked, smiling at her receptionist.
"No, she hasn't," Barbara replied, looking up from her work. "It looks like Ms. Walters might be a no show."
"Well, it's her first session, so I'm not going to give up on her just yet. I'll do some paperwork, and fingers crossed she shows."
"Okay then. I'll buzz you at half-past if she hasn't called to cancel."
Dr. Erikson nodded and closed her door, then went and sat behind her desk. Pulling out a small pile of folders from a drawer, she studiously went through them one at a time before filing them away. Time passed, her attention wholly on her work.
"Nice office," a woman's voice announced from out of nowhere.
Dr. Erikson jerked her head up, a statuesque blonde in a pretty green dress standing in the middle of the room.
"Who–?" Dr. Erikson began to say, her eyes flicking to the closed door. Barbara didn't say anything, and I didn't hear anyone come in. How on earth!? She took a calming breath and stood up. "Can I help you?"
"I think I'm meant to ask you that, doc."
Dr. Erikson blinked then smiled. "Ms. Walters, I presume?"
"Quick, doc. Quicker than other doctors I know."
"Well, I'm sorry I didn't hear you come in."
Dr. Erikson walked over and held out her hand, the two of them shaking. She found Ms. Walters grip to be firm, as an icy gaze bored into her. Ms. Walters also exuded an aura of tightly controlled anger, coupled with a hint of danger. No, it was more than hint, it was palpable, but none of it directed at her. She could work with that. It was one of the paradoxical processes in her profession. That the strong were sometimes the easiest to help, once they were set on the right course.
"Nice to meet you," Dr. Erikson said.
"Nice to meet you too, doc," Ms. Walters replied, her friendly tone belying everything about her.
"Jill, if you like?"
"Well, Dr. J, you can call me Jennifer, for now."
"Are you still up for a full session? I know it's a little late, but I'd still like to do it as it's your first time."
"Yeah, I'm in no rush."
"Well, I'll just let my receptionist know that I'm going to stay, then we can talk about whatever's on your mind." She gestured at her office. "Sit wherever you like, and I'll be back in a jiffy." She headed for the door, watching as Ms. Walters pulled out her phone and began walking around the room with the device held out in front of her.
Interesting, Dr. Erikson thought as she opened the door and popped her head outside. "Barbara, you may as well head home for the day. I'll lock up once I've finished with Jennifer."
"With who?" Barbara replied.
"Ms. Walters."
"Did she call you on your private line?"
"No, she's in my office."
"Um, she can't be."
"Wrong!" Ms. Walters called out from the other room.
Dr. Erikson saw the shock on Barbara's face, and stepped back as Barbara rushed over to the door. They both looked at Ms. Walters, Barbara fidgeting nervously.
"I've been here the whole time, and no one's gone into your office," Barbara whispered.
What went unspoken between the two of them was that they were on the third floor and that there was only one way in or out of Dr. Erikson's office. It was impossible, but the evidence was right there in front of them.
"Do you want me to… call someone?" Barbara whispered.
"No, it's okay. You can head off, and I'll see you on Tuesday."
Barbara nodded, glanced back inside, then shuffled over to her desk. Dr. Erikson closed the door and turned to look at her new patient. And this time she really looked at her. Ms. Walters had a slender, curvaceous body, with an athletic build, and her sharp facial features were framed by long, thick blonde hair, along with piercing blue eyes. She appeared to be someone that could look after herself, but there was something more. It was intangible, but it was there.
This one's going to be… interesting. She sighed, softly. I left New York to get away from the interesting ones, but… I do miss them, occasionally. "That was a nice trick, getting in here without Barbara seeing you."
"No trick, just skill," Ms. Walters replied, nonchalantly.
"And the phone?" she asked, as Ms. Walters finally put the device away and sat down next to a window.
"I was checking for any hidden surveillance."
"You were worried that I might be recording my sessions?"
"Doc– Jill, if there's one thing I've learnt, it's never trust anyone at face value. Though, I assumed you wouldn't be spying," she glanced outside, "but others might be. And before you go all Freud on me, it's kept me alive more times than I can remember."
Oh?
Dr. Erikson grabbed a pad and pen from her desk and sat down opposite Ms. Walters. There was a lot to talk about, and most importantly whether Ms. Walters was delusional, mistaken, or telling the truth. It was one of the hardest, most interesting parts to psychoanalyze, but she enjoyed the challenge.
"With so much going on in your life, I'm surprised you came to me. I'm–"
"A fish out of water, Jill, like me. We've both given up what we were good at." She paused in thought for a second. "I've done it twice, in fact." She leaned forwards, eyes intense. "You're Dr. Jill Erikson, world renowned psychologist. And after the Lowardian invasion, life, loss, and a commitment to your only surviving granddaughter caused you to semi-retire here to this idyllic little town of Middleton."
Dr. Erikson showed no outward sign of surprise, as this was a power play, pure and simple. She had seen it many, many times before.
"I don't advertise," Dr. Erikson said, calmly.
"I know, and that's why I came to you."
"Because people are after you?"
Ms. Walters turned to stare out the window, chewing on her lip.
Dr. Erikson said nothing, not even after ten minutes of silence between the two of them. Talking would come … in time. Opening up your deepest darkest secrets to a stranger was never easy, even when you are there for their help. She was fine if they spent the next hour without saying a word to each other. Her silent, patient understanding was far more important in building trust between them than anything she could say.
"I– Yeah, no! Fuck this shit!" Ms. Walters exclaimed, turning back to face her. "Listen, I was born over eighty years ago. I was dying from leukemia until me and my brothers were hit by a meteor. I killed the first girl I had a crush on. I've been brainwashed, tortured, and betrayed by the government, and almost lost my freedom because of my idiotic brother. I've watched as the woman I loved was brutally murdered in front of me, and… the next woman I cared about was shot saving me, dying in my arms. All because I can do THIS!"
She held up a hand, that burst into green fire.
Dr. Erikson yelped in shock and surprise, and fell backwards and out of her chair.
~o0o~
So hot, Faux thought, as she did a full circle in front of the mirror so she could check herself out from every angle. She smiled at the vast amount of skin on display, along with the generous showing of cleavage.
They won't know what him 'em!
It was the first Saturday night of the month at 'A Possible Tavern', and that meant KiGo Night. She had dressed the part, her freshly dried hair now a fiery red, and her eyes tinted an olive green. She had chosen to go old school in her wardrobe for the festivities, her skimpy cheerleader outfit perfectly styled on Kim's from the hero's sophomore year. It was a dark purple with bright orange and gold trim, and it hugged her in all the right ways. It also left very little to the imagination, especially when she bent over.
She picked up some golden pompoms and struck a pose.
Hellz yeah! I'mma gettin some tonight!
She was well-rested thanks to an afternoon nap, and had given herself the night off. One of the perks of being the boss. She nodded and headed for the door, her critical eye doing a once over of her large studio apartment before she left. The lounge and kitchen were spotless, the open shower and bathtub ready for some intimate moments if required. She winked at her massive, wooden, four poster bed, and all the women it had entertained. Covered in twisted ivy, diaphanous silk drapes and fairy lights, it had helped seduce so many girls.
Oh yes! Toys!
She ran into her walk-in wardrobe and came out with a variety of sex toys. A dexterous foot opened the bottom drawer of her bedside table, and she carefully deposited all her happy fun time equipment.
"There we go, girls," she said, closing the drawer and patting it.
She turned on the fairy lights, and a red and a green lava lamp, put on some soft music, then closed and locked the door.
Saturday night at Club KiGo, Faux thought as she listened to the noisy patrons and thumping music from below. She looked up at the night's sky, just in time to see a shooting star. Quick, make a wish. It was an easy one, no thinking required. It's my grand re-reopening, so I wish for Kim and Shego to show. Kim had promised, but there was always the chance of a mission interfering. Shego was the real wildcard. Still, she now had a good feeling that both would make an appearance.
She headed down the backstairs as she drifted off in thought.
We can talk, drink and dance… then all come upstairs. She bit her lip. On my bed, sweating and writhing against each other, me in the middle!
She shivered in delight.
Shego above, straddling me, letting me taste–
Mmm!
Kim between my thighs, as her tongue makes me–
Ohh!
And then they can both–
YESSS!
She was brought out of her sexy daydream by a soft whirring from above, and watched as one of those fantastical flying car, hovercraft thingies zipped down to a secluded section of the car park, floating in midair.
"Kim!" Faux called out as a certain redhead popped into view.
Kim looked around and smiled and waved, then she and her ride promptly turned Invisible. When she next appeared she was dropping to the ground, a large painting shaped present in her hands. She landed with barely a sound, outfitted in her purple mission shirt, black trousers, and sturdy combat boots; her wardrobe now accompanied by a plain silver bracelet around her wrist. She had been wearing it for a few months now, yet all her fans were still excitedly talking about it.
Faux was there and waiting for her, a huge grin on her face.
"Happy re-reopening," Kim said, holding out her gift.
Faux stepped forwards and wrapped her in a big welcoming hug, twirling the both of them around in her enthusiasm. Kim returned the greeting, while Faux huffed as her hands were diverted away from Kim's backside. Faux spun them to a stop and placed Kim back down, but she refused to be denied. Tonight was special, and she had wishful, lustful plans. She pulled Kim close, receiving the cutest little squeak of surprise. Faux reveled at how amazing Kim felt, and as she looked into wide eyes, she pressed her lips to Kim's in the gentlest of kisses.
"H-Hey you," Kim said, her cheeks blushing red as she dropped her gaze.
"Hey, yourself," Faux replied.
She stood there with Kim in her arms as the girl looked anywhere but at her, and it took her no time at all to work out that it was her revealing outfit as much as the kiss that had Kim off balance. She gently tightened her grip, watching Kim's cheeks turn even redder as she held her close.
God dammit, she's so fuckin' cute! I could just eat her up.
She eventually relented and stepped back, and relieved Kim of her present. From the size and the feel of it under the wrapping paper, her gift could only be one thing. She opened her mouth to comment, then saw the look on Kim's face.
"I'm so, so sorry, I can't stay," Kim said, looking miserable. "I'm needed in Africa to help with some poachers."
Faux let out a big, sad sigh. There was no reason to get upset, as this had been Kim's life since Christmas. Even before then, because of the fallout from the Perses Virus. She nodded in understanding, but made sure she pouted. She glanced at the gift in her hands then over at the noisy tavern, then up to her apartment as an idea came to mind. It would be a grand way to thank Kim for the present, and a suitably, sexy recompense for Kim having to leave.
Because, if the mountain won't come to Muhammad…
"Don't be sad," Kim said, reaching out and taking Faux's hands in her own. "I know I've been busy, and haven't been around much." She sighed. "Not at all, right? But I'll make it up to you and the gang, honest!"
"It's okay, Kim. I totally understand that the world needs you these days." She adopted the most innocent expression she could muster. "But if you have the time, we could pop up to my apartment and open your present together?"
From the intense look Kim gave her, she felt she had overplayed it.
Kim tilted her head in thought as she glanced up at her invisible hovercraft, then touched her lips as she looked back at Faux and her sexy attire. Kim's expression softened as she tucked a few stray hairs behind an ear, and she gave a quick nod of agreement.
"And you'll be good?" Kim asked, an eyebrow raised in question.
"Ohh yes, I'll be good!" Faux replied, winking suggestively.
"Oh you," Kim said, playfully punching her on the shoulder.
They both laughed as they headed up the stairs, Kim politely holding the gift as Faux unlocked and opened her door.
"Woah, Faux, it's beautiful in here!" Kim exclaimed as soon as she stepped inside.
"Why, thank you, I do aim to please."
Kim stood there with wide eyes as she stared around the apartment, her first time up here since the Monkey Fist debacle. Lava lamps filled the large, open space in a warm, welcoming glow, while the fairy lights drew the eye towards the massive, ivy covered bed. Soft music complete the ensemble, as Kim took a few subconscious steps towards the bed.
"Lights?" she asked.
"Nah, this is much better," Faux replied as she closed and leaned against the door.
"Oh?"
"It makes everything look perfect!" And she pointedly stared at Kim.
A Machiavellian smile crossed her lips as she tossed her pompoms aside. She had always had a bit of a runway strut to her walk, but now she employed it to full effect as she pushed off the door and sauntered towards Kim. Each sensual step brought her closer and closer, and she reveled in the way Kim fixated on her swaying hips.
Kim swallowed and took a skittish step backwards, then stood her ground.
Ohhh, Kim, you've had me fooled for too long… Playing all bashful and aloof. I get that… But, oh no… I know that look in your eyes. You're so into girls! She smiled as she linked their arms together, holding Kim close.
"This way," she said, as she led Kim across the living room.
"Um…" Kim said as they passed the couch.
"The bed's bigger, and far comfier…"
"Ah… y-yeah, sure," Kim replied, as she anxiously glanced at their destination.
Faux smiled to herself, the blush on Kim's cheeks warming her heart. She stopped beside the bed and plucked the present from Kim's unresisting hands, then laid it out on the comforter. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, she looked up at Kim and patted the space beside her.
Kim gulped, smiled, then sat down at the corner, her back against a sturdy post. She pointedly stared at the present, even as her hands nervously fidgeted on her lap.
Still playing the innocent card? Well, alright then! Faux thought.
She scooted closer, loving how Kim's cheeks darkened at her approach. They were so close now that she could feel the heat from Kim's body. And her gaze focused on Kim's throat, that erogenous pulse point calling to her. She bit her lip, tingling deep inside. Unused to self-control. She somehow held herself back, even though every fiber of her being told her to jump the girl.
"Comfy?" she asked as she leaned forwards to reveal a nice amount of cleavage.
"Y-Yes!"
"Then, let's do it," she said huskily, her fingertips lightly grazing Kim's knee.
"I-It!? I– Wh-What–?" Kim squeaked.
Faux silently cheered at Kim's expression, the girl wordlessly opening and closing her mouth.
"Opening my present, silly." But we both know what you were thinking! She winked then turned to her gift, and with a flurry of activity she ripped off the wrapping paper. Revealed was a stylish wooden frame, and sitting beneath a thin sheet of glass was a pair of giant rubber and mesh flippers, tipped with razor sharp, steel claws.
"It's another trophy for you to mount on the wall of your bar," Kim said, finding her voice at last. "They're from Major Bloat, that amphibian styled villain I fought in the Amazon last month.
"Yeah… I read all about him on your blog. He sounded really disgusting."
"He was," Kim replied, shivering in disgust.
"Well, it's a perfect addition for downstairs," Faux gushed, and she turned and gave Kim a quick hug.
"I'm glad you like."
"Wade's done the usual, I assume?"
"Yep. He's removed all the tech, so now they're just a big pair of clunky, funky flippers."
Faux leaned in for a closer look at the wickedly sharp claws, and shivered. She had followed Kim's career from almost the beginning, and knew that Kim's slim, dainty, teenage girl persona gave her an advantage over the villains, terrorists, and evildoers of the world. But It was times like this that she truly came to realize how dangerous Kim's life was. One mistake with a miscreant like this and Kim would be seriously injured, even killed.
She's saved so many lives, and she's still single. It's not fair! "It's so not fair," Faux said out aloud, continuing on before Kim could ask. "That you do so much for everyone, and that you're alone."
"It's no big, really," Kim said, waving her off. "It's totally fine."
"No, it's not!"
"Really, it is. I have my… I'm using…"
"Mmhm?"
Kim dropped her head, cheeks red.
"A vibrator?" Faux said, filling in the blanks.
Kim simply nodded in embarrassment.
A vibrator? That's it? Dear God, not even some one night stands? It's a fuckin crime, that's what it is! She huffed with annoyance and found her calm. "Kim, toys are great, don't get me wrong," she glanced at her bedside table, "but they'll never replace the sweaty, intense feelings of a warm body next to yours." She gently stroked Kim's thigh as she leveled a gaze at her. "Or what it's like to find release from a lover… as she makes you cum."
"I– uh, should to get going," Kim mumbled as she shot to her feet, stepping away from Faux as if she had been burned.
Shego's so right about her. So innocent. So gosh darn cute! And so in need of some proper relief! She flowed to her feet, watching Kim's flustered gaze follow her as she circled her. "You don't have to be nervous," she said, stopping between Kim and the door.
"No, I'm– It's just– Africa–"
"I know you like girls," Faux said, softly.
Kim's expression was priceless as she stared back, neither leaving or saying anything.
"And you owe me a kiss!" She moved closer and took Kim's limp hands, and brought them up to her lips. "So I want to give you a special thank you for my present, and for everything else you do!"
"It's, uh– No need to– I mean, it's–" Kim babbled as she clumsily stepped backwards and bumped into the bedpost. She glanced behind as she steadied herself, but when she looked back up Faux was right there in front of her.
"You fantasize about me, don't you?"
"No, I–" Kim started to say, stopping as a finger was placed over her lips.
"Uh-uh-ah, don't even try to deny it!" She removed her silencing digit and held Kim's waist. "I've seen that look in your eyes."
"I– I–" Kim managed to stammer out. "I was just–" She stopped, swallowing as she tried to gather her thoughts. "I didn't–" Her eyes met Faux's as her as belt was undone and thrown away, lost in that wanton gaze. "I wasn't–"
"And here we are, all alone," Faux seductively purred as she shuffled Kim onto the edge of the bed, straddling her lap. "You can have me, Kim. Do anything you want to me. And it can be our dirty… little… secret!"
She pinned Kim with her lustful stare as she pulled Kim's shirt free of her trousers, enjoying every fumbling utterance the girl was trying to say. She breathed in her wonderful aroma as she waited for a 'no' or a 'stop', but it did not come. Not even as she slipped a hand under Kim's shirt to caress her slim waist.
"Really, Fa-Faux! We– I… shouldn't–" Kim said, her chest heaving
"Whatever… you… desire!"
She pressed herself against Kim, their excited breath's mingling under the soulful, strains of the music. Kim's glazed expression made her smile, everything about her so enticing. And as she curled her fingers in luxurious red hair, her eyelids closing in victory, her lips for parted for a kiss.
The low-pitched moan from Kim was one of longing and need, and it was heaven to Faux's ears.
~o0o~
Do they or don't they? Oh what a fun spot to end the chapter.
Timelines, that's my major problems at the moment. This chapter was meant to be Kim centric, but so much other stuff had to be introduced first.
Next: Shego belatedly arrives at the tavern, and I can get back to Kim and what she has been up to these last few months.
