Summer’s beginning marked the end of a great many things. Kim’s first year at college had ended, and she was overjoyed with her decision to pursue a major in criminology. Middleton University was one of the best colleges in the country, and their criminal studies department was second to none. She was almost sad when classes ceased.
Leaving the dorms had proved to be nearly as upsetting. Though her parents had given her an extraordinary amount of freedom during her high school years, there was nothing to compare to the first year she had been entirely responsible for herself. She had swelled with pride after the first month, having mastered juggling her finances, sleeping patterns, study habits, and the occasional call to save the world.
Food, however, was more of a distraction than anything else. Most her meals were either instant food such as microwave noodles and pizzas or items snatched from the cafeteria. Kim’s steadfast refusal to cook meals from scratch had earned her the title of the instant food connoisseur. There was a long-running debate on campus over how she had managed to stay slim with all the terrible food she ate, but Kim could only shrug and try to explain that she had no idea of what the answer was.
It would have pained Kim to leave the dormitories and lose such a degree of freedom. She had loved living on her own, and had often received a reminder to “stop bitching” whenever she told Shego of her dismay. Such statements were made so casually that Kim rarely put any stock in them. Too often Shego had done something to completely contradict what she had said.
Were Kim within reach, Shego would run her fingers through the young woman’s hair even as she insisted for quiet. If they were too far apart for physical contact, Shego would smile lazily and shake her head. The way Shego disarmed her verbal barbs made the evening that would always stand out in Kim’s memory all the less surprising.
“Five.” Kim blinked and turned away from the television, looking at Shego with a raised eyebrow. The night was what Kim liked to jokingly refer to as a lazy date. Neither wanted to go out on the town, and so Kim dressed herself in a comfortable outfit to spend the evening at Shego’s apartment watching old favorite movies.
“If you’re trying to keep track of how many people have been killed by knives in this scene, you’re off by about five,” Kim remarked. Shego smirked, her eyes still trained on the screen.
“I’m counting how many times you’ve sighed since this scene started,” she replied. “That last one made five, princess.” Kim frowned, turning to look at the television. She leaned forcefully against Shego, poking the other woman in the side with her elbow playfully.
“If you’ve been counting, how many times have I sighed since we started the movie?” she asked. Shego drew in a deep breath, wrapping one arm around Kim’s shoulders and pulling the young woman flush against her.
“I don’t know.” Kim smirked, settling peacefully and laying her head on Shego’s shoulder. “But since the opening credits stopped, you’ve sighed about three dozen times.” Instead of the light slap to the shoulder she expected, Shego received another sigh as a response. She groaned and paused the movie, looking at the red-haired head on her shoulder from the corner of her eye.
“Have I really been sighing that much?” Kim asked.
“Yes,” Shego replied. “Now stop it. I want to see Parliament explode without you sighing the whole time.”
“I’m sorry.” Were she not so familiar with how Kim spoke, Shego would have taken the apology at face value and pressed the play button on the remote. She heard the faint lilting at the end of the sentence, however, and was not disappointed in her choice to wait for Kim to speak again. “It’s just that—it’s already the end of April! My parents are calling me every day and asking if I’d called in any favors to get help moving back in with them!”
“Pumpkin.”
“And it’s not that I don’t want to live with them! Well, it is, but I’m not saying it’s not nice to live with my parents! They’re great, but I don’t want to have to live with them anymore!”
“Kimmie.”
“I really just want to be on my own from now on—but I don’t know how to tell them that! I don’t want to hurt their feelings! Not to mention the fact that I don’t even have a place to live other than the dorms right now!”
“Kim!” Kim stopped speaking, realizing her desperate need for air. She blushed as she took in a few deep breaths, twisting her fingers nervously.
“Sorry,” she muttered. Shego let out a sigh of her own, putting a hand on Kim’s head. She let her fingers stroke the silky red hair, remaining quiet for many moments.
“You really want to live on your own that much?” Kim nodded against Shego’s shoulder, unable to speak due to lingering embarrassment. Shego drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long, low hum. “And you still need to find a place.” Kim nodded again, daring to let her eyes drift up toward Shego’s face. “Huh. Well, you’re here almost all the time. Move in.”
“What?” Kim lifted her head, turning to look at Shego. The woman smiled, winking once before kissing Kim on the mouth.
“Move in with me,” she said with a grin. “There’s more than enough room in the bed for both of us.”
“You want me to move in with you?” Kim asked.
“Yes, Kim,” Shego replied. “Don’t ask me more than once.” For a moment, Kim could only stare. When the moment passed, she wrapped her arms around Shego’s neck and pressed a fervent, happy kiss against the other woman’s lips.
The plans were finalized in the last half of April. Kim’s parents were upset, but understanding. When classes ended, Kim moved out of the dormitories and into Shego’s apartment, taking with her everything that she had acquired over the year. The first few weeks passed as a blur to Kim. There were things she never would have known about Shego had they not been living together.
Though she had long suspected that Shego was a terrible morning person and had actually known about the woman’s addiction to coffee, Kim had no idea that Shego’s favorite coffee mug was a cheerfully bright color of pink. Nor did she have any idea that, despite Shego’s tendency to wear tight-fitting, form-flattering clothes during all hours of the day, the black-haired woman wore some of the simplest—nigh on frumpy—pajamas Kim had ever seen. She was wont to simply pull on a worn, faded green bra and a pair of baggy green flannel pajama pants before crawling into bed with Kim.
With Kim’s naturally early hours, Shego rarely shared breakfast with the young woman, and always insisted on something more substantial than simple cold cereal when she did. This left Kim to her own devices on most mornings, and more often than not, she fell into her old, bizarre eating habits from college. It was because of this tendency that Shego was quite surprised—and slightly horrified—when she woke up early one fine Saturday morning.
Shego padded out of the bedroom slowly, rubbing at her eyes with one hand. No matter what she tried, there was no way for her to fall back asleep, even though it was only eight forty-two in the morning. She shuffled toward the kitchen, groaning when she heard telltale clinking of a spoon against the side of a bowl.
“Don’t know how you wake up this early,” she grumbled as she went to the cabinets over the counter.
“Good morning,” Kim said in return. Shego groaned as she opened one cabinet, retrieving her coffee mug. She cracked one eye open only enough to find the coffee pot and fill her mug. After a long sip of the steaming hot drink, she found the energy to open both her eyes and make her way to the table just out of the kitchen. With a sigh, she sat down cattycorner to Kim, propping her elbows on the table and lifting the coffee mug to her lips.
“Couldn’t wait for me to make breakfast?” Shego asked, smirking. She tilted the mug to take another sip, but choked at the sight she found when her eyes went to Kim’s bowl. The bowl was not a new or strange thing. It was Kim’s favorite, colored a simple blue with a ring of pink circles on the sides. What made Shego’s throat tighten was the yellow mass within the bowl. “Kimmie? What the hell is that?”
“Instant macaroni and cheese,” was the simple reply. Shego resisted the urge to gag as Kim scooped up another spoonful and put it in her mouth.
“Kim, it’s not even nine in the morning! What the hell are you doing eating that crap?” Kim frowned at Shego before popping another spoonful in her mouth.
“It’s not ‘crap,’” she said after swallowing. “I figured out a way to make it taste just like normal macaroni and cheese.”
“OK, not the point,” Shego said in turn. She hooked one finger around the lip of the bowl, pulling it out of Kim’s reach. “I repeat—it’s not even nine in the morning. Why are you eating instant macaroni and cheese for breakfast?” Kim paused in her reaching for the bowl, looking at Shego with a raised eyebrow.
“Why not?” she retorted.
“Because it’s nasty—doy.”
“So is drinking coffee straight out of the pot without any sugar, but you don’t see me grabbing your mug.” Shego opened her mouth to argue, but paused.
“Have you been doing this every morning when I don’t make breakfast?” she asked, her voice quieter than she had intended. Kim’s annoyed expression faded instantly into one of surprise and confusion.
“Well, not that,” she replied, gesturing at the bowl. “But ‘normal’ breakfast food? No, I don’t really eat ‘normal’ breakfast food if you don’t make it.” She stared at the spoon in her hand. “I’m a bad cook, Shego. You know that.” Shego nodded, looking down into her coffee. After a moment, she drew in a deep breath and slid the bowl back to Kim.
“Finish your breakfast,” she said as she stood up. “And get dressed when you’re done.” She picked up her coffee mug and started back toward the bedroom.
“Shego?” The black-haired woman looked back over her shoulder, winking with a smirk.
“You’ll see, princess. Hurry up.” Kim was certain that she set a new speed-eating record that morning.
“OK—way confused now.” Kim had returned from dressing only to find Shego retrieving a large metal bowl, measuring cups, and other utensils from various drawers and cupboards. “What are we doing?”
“Making—” Shego paused, picking up a small red recipe book from the counter and flipping through the pages haphazardly. “—peanut butter, chocolate, and nut cookies.” She leaned against the counter with one hip, reading while tapping her chin with the handle of the large white plastic spoon she held in her left hand. “This actually sounds pretty good.”
“Wait a minute—don’t you know how to make them?” Shego snorted, twirling the spoon between her fingers.
“I’m not a chef, Kimmie,” she said. “Hell, Drakken made me steal recipes from people so he could make them.”
“But—you’ve been cooking everything.”
“Nothing is hard about cooking, princess. You follow the recipe and pay attention.”
“But what if we burn something?”
“We burn it. And no more ‘but what if’ questions. Grab the milk and two eggs from the fridge.” Kim stared at Shego for a moment, but let out a sigh. As she strode to the refrigerator, she shrugged her shoulders. When she put the requested items on the counter, Shego sent her to fetch other ingredients from all around the kitchen. Soon there was a spread of items along the counter, and Shego looked at it all approvingly.
“OK, measure out this much flour,” she said, turning the book about to show Kim the amount. Kim frowned at the recipe, wincing in confusion.
“Wait, is it two half cups, or two and a half cups?” she asked. Shego’s head slowly tilted to one side, an eyebrow raising. Kim blushed, biting her lip.
“Two and a half,” Shego replied. “Here.” She slid over the half-cup measuring cup and the plastic canister of flour. “Count it out.” Kim picked up the metal cup and popped the lid on the canister, sighing and shaking her head.
“Now I know how my dad feels,” she muttered.
“Huh?”
“Whenever my mom tried to make my dad help her with the cooking, she always told him it wasn’t rocket science,” Kim replied, keeping track of the scoops she had put into the large metal bowl. “He used to say, ‘No, it’s not. Rocket science is easy compared to this, even if I am a rocket scientist.’” Shego snorted, one side of her mouth curling up.
“She was right, you now,” she said. “It’s not hard—you’re thinking too hard about it.” Kim put the measuring cup back on the counter, having reached the necessary amount, and looked at Shego with disbelief on her face. “It’s like anything else—you over think, and you screw up. Here, read it again.” She turned the book back to Kim, who sighed and looked at the page. “If you’re making cookies, don’t you think that a grand total of one cup of flour is pretty pathetic?”
“All right, all right,” Kim sighed. “I get it. What’s next, oh great cooking teacher?”
“Hey, I don’t teach,” Shego replied. “I’m just making you do everything.” She laughed as Kim reached out and slapped her shoulder, leaving behind flour fingerprints.
A good part of two hours were spent simply making the dough. There were a number of debates over the recipe as Kim grew more and more at ease with their chosen task. Her intuition had actually saved them from having to clean up a remarkably large mess when they began to add the mixed dry ingredients to the wet ingredients in the mixing bowl. Shego had shrugged and found no problem with dumping all of the dry ingredients into the bowl at once, but Kim wisely refused to do such a thing.
Soon came the moment for putting the cookies into the oven to bake, and the two women put the first cookie sheet in with not a small amount of pride. Shego slid the sheet into the oven and closed the door, reaching up to tap in nine minutes on the oven’s built-in timer.
“There,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “And we’re not totally filthy.” The occasional splatter of flour dusted their shirts, standing out far more clearly on Shego’s dark red-orange tank top than Kim’s bright orange t-shirt. Kim laughed, wiping off the counter with a damp washcloth before hoisting herself up to sit on the cleaned surface.
“Think they’ll be all right?” she asked.
“You make them sound like our kids, pumpkin,” Shego replied with a chuckle. “And I’m pretty sure they’ll turn out fine.” Kim blinked once, but nodded, propping her elbows on her knees to wait. The nine minutes were spent in a comfortable quiet, Shego leaning against the counter next to Kim and holding the young woman’s hand. When the timer chirped, Shego strode to the oven and opened the door, snatching a potholder from the counter to take hold of the sheet.
“They’re flat!” Kim said, voice rising from shock. “But we put the baking powder in—I know we did!” Shego snickered and put the sheet on the counter opposite the oven, grabbing the next one to be baked and sliding it onto the rack.
“It’s fine,” she said as she closed the oven door and reset the timer. “It happened to Drakken every time he made cookies. He tried to make the perfect baking powder to stop it, but he wound up blowing up three lairs before I made him give up.” She picked up a spatula and held it out to Kim with a grin. “Get them off before they burn.” Kim hopped down from the counter, taking the spatula and the potholder in her hands.
With a calm hand, she took hold of the sheet with the potholder. A single quick shove brought a cookie onto the spatula, and she shuffled it onto the waiting sheets of newspaper to cool. Just as easily, she repeated the action for the rest of the pan, staring at the cookies when they sat on the newspaper. Despite their flatness, the cookies were a tasty-looking shade of golden brown, and Kim could see the rises of chocolate chips and nuts in the baked dough. She smiled, putting the spatula down and crossing her arms triumphantly.
“We made cookies,” she said in a low voice, unable to keep the smile from curling her lips.
“Alert the media,” Shego muttered, moving to wrap her arms around Kim. She pressed a kiss against the young woman’s neck, and Kim could feel the smile in it. After squeezing Kim once, Shego reached out and plucked two cookies from the newspaper. She brought her arm back, giving one cookie to Kim and taking a bite out of the other. “Try it, Kimmie.”
Kim did as she was told, smiling and giggling when the delicious taste spread across her tongue. She languished in Shego’s arms for a time, nibbling at the cookie. Shego quickly finished her cookie, reaching out for another. As she brought it back, Kim spoke up.
“Shego?”
“What?” The words that Kim spoke next were ones that did something nothing else in the world could claim: they nearly killed Shego by making her choke on a cookie.
“You said ‘our kids’ earlier…”
—end—