“If I can do it, so can you. Good night, Shego.” He began typing his response to MegaZilla Corp.
That night, Ron couldn't stop thinking. And the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to keep thinking about it. It was weird, how that worked. Everything about this was weird.
How comfortable he felt with the mad scientist was weird. It was kind of like with Kim, yet different. It was almost like Drakken needed him, to remind him to water-proof his robots, double-check his solder-joints, think up decent names for his inventions. Kim didn't really need him for anything at all. It was more like Kim put up with him, he realized. She called on him when she needed something, otherwise she didn't call at all. He was the one doing all the calling…
It was weird how… okay, how good Drakken had looked in the suit. Wide shoulders, narrow waist… there were those people who would've called him a “hunk”. Was he one of those people? Was he… attracted to this man more than twice his age? And if he was, was it Sick And Wrong? So how come it didn't feel that way?
How come he wished he were in the Lair right now, munching popcorn and going over Drakken's latest “World Conquest” plan with him? Huh? How come?
Drakken was going over a list of possible names for his Giant Mechanical Spiders. He couldn't very call them that, or GMSes, but on his list of ten candidates, he kept crossing them out. Spider-Bots. No. Techo-Spiders. No. Spido-techs? Maybe.
He wished Ron were there to look at the list. It would be SO embarrassing if Ron laughed at whatever he named them… he didn't want to go through that again. He closed his eyes picturing the scene: he in his smoking-jacket, Ron in pajamas, both of them sipping Coco-Moo with papers spread out on the floor, blueprints and checklists, yakking about the Plan. Ron making fun of the him for his un-melodic names and engineering faux-pas, him making fun of Ron's lack of understanding of mathematics and science… perhaps the both of them making fun of Killigan. That had been fun, at dinner.
He sighed. Okay, so it was a pipe-dream. He could still dream… nothing wrong with dreaming… Ron in pajamas. Yes, that would be dreamy…
Kim could only think to herself, Me… and…
She couldn't even decide whether it was a good or bad thing, whether she'd ever considered such a thing, whether she'd ever even noticed Shego like… that. So why was the idea, or rather, the partial idea, playing over and over in her head? Me… and…
Kim suddenly realized that what everyone said about her was right: she was a goody-two-shoes. In fact, she was so much of one, that she'd never even looked at any porn on the net. And she was so busy – school, cheer leading, working out, saving-the-world – that she'd never had the idle time to consider things like… sex… and the different forms it could take. She was always in a rush to get to the next thing, to get past whatever the present thing was, and on to the future thing.
So why was this thing stopping her cold in her tracks? Me… and…
Shego…
If I can do it, so can you, he'd said. Shego kept hearing the words. She was Shego. Nothing stood in her way! If she wanted something, she took it! No if's, and's or but's.
But that wasn't exactly true this time, now was it…
She'd been getting more – distracted – by the red-headed teenager for over a year now. There were other women who distracted her more, for sure, but none who could kick her ass. That was a new thing. That made it… different.
But Kim WAS a teenager, after all! And a cheerleader, for god's sake! That thought actually made her shudder. A cheerleader! Doy! How humiliating… how could any self-respecting woman be a cheerleader? She didn't understand it at all. At all. It was like being a performing monkey at the circus, with a side-order of tawdriness thrown in to keep the boys happy. It was kind of disgusting, in a way.
But here Shego was, hoping for a peek up her short, pleated skirt… And now Dr. D saying “If I can do it, so can you.” That pervert. What kind of relationship could he have with a… then again, what kind of relationship did she want with Kim Possible, for that matter.
Okay, so I'm shallow. A shallow pervert too, just like Dr. D. I just want to get into her panties, that's all. But GAWD how I want to get into her panties! It wasn't something she could just take, though. That was something she'd have to ask for - ask Kim, her enemy - and Kim could say “no”. Almost certainly would say “no”, too. Almost certainly would. Almost certainly. Almost…
Dr. Drakken walked into Shego's gym and eyed the Universal Station. It's cables and pulleys and attachments were fascinating. He wore over-sized basketball shorts of yellow-golden nylon that came down below his knees. He looked over at Shego, whose eyes were closed as she counted pull-ups.
“Seventy-six, seventy-seven, seventy -”
“Ahem” Drakken pretended to clear his throat without looking at her.
Shego saw and froze, holding herself at the top of the bar in amazement. “Whoa! Dr. D!”
“Intriguing device, this… thought I'd give it a try. You see how the leverage is controlled by -”
“Yeah, it's a Wonder of Science” Shego said, and started to giggle, “I didn't realize you hailed from ‘da hood', Doc.”
“Pardon me?”
Shego let go of the bars. “Y'know. ‘Da hood, dawg. Chill.'” She began to laugh out loud obviously looking at his ridiculous shorts.
Drakken blushed. “But I thought -”
“Yeah, I know what you thought. Okay, look, we can get you some proper exercise shorts later. I gotta go to the mall anyway.” She paused, thinking about the reason Dr. D had suddenly taken up an interest in physical fitness - and fashion - as it were.
“Oh, good! I need to look at some more suits, while we're there. And maybe another hat. And some updated lab-coats… that old blue thing is -”
“You're serious about this, aren't you… You're really gonna go after that boy?”
That was the question Dr. Drakken had been avoiding even asking himself. It took him awhile to regain his composure.
“He's not such a ‘boy’ as all that. And… I don't know.” His eyes met hers. “I really don't know what's going to happen. I just… I'll just see how it goes, I suppose.”
That's actually a pretty reasonable answer, Shego thought. Poor guy, he's what the romance novels call ‘smitten’. It's SO cute!
“What about you, Shego? Are you going to do anything, or will you just continue chewing your lip until you finally bite it off…”
Shego's cheerful fun turned serious, with those words.
“Is it obvious?” she asked in all honesty.
He could say ‘quite’ and sound clever. Or he could say ‘Doy', mocking her, and sound even more clever.
“Yes” he said, finally.
“Really?” She had thought it was her Big Secret. Who else knew?
Drakken sat down on the machine, hanging his arms over the deltoid-bar casually. “I doubt it's so obvious to the casual observer, Shego, but yes, I've noticed. Ron has too, incidentally.”
“Ro – Stoppable? Noticed that… that I…”
“Not you.”
As the blood drained from her face, Shego felt dizzy, very dizzy. She fished around behind her for something to sit on, and – not finding anything – fell on her butt.
“Are you all right, Shego?” Drakken said, getting up. He hit his head on the bar that held the deltoid pulley.
“Ow! Dratted machine! Damn it all!” he rubbed the bump on his head.
That was the bit of reality that Shego had needed, just then, to let her know that the world was still spinning in the right direction. She'd begun to wonder.
“I guess I'm as ‘all right’ as YOU are, Dr. D. Hey. Let me get cleaned up” she grinned mischeviously, “ WE are going SHOPPING!”
“Something in your voice is scaring me, Shego…”
“As well you should be. Next time we deal with Team Possible, we are going to be SO ready! You and me both! Now go get your disguise on!”
It wasn't how Dr. D had planned the day to go… it was better.
Sing it to yourself: “Every Girl Crazy ‘Bout a Sharp-Dressed Man”.
“What about this one?” he asked her, strolling straight-backed from the changing-room.
Shego looked up from her magazine, still wagging her crossed leg impatiently. “So, we're going for the 1920's Detective look, are we?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. That's exactly what I'm going for. Thank you. Miss! I'll take these.”
Shego hung the five outfits she'd picked in front of Dr. Drakken. “Which one – no, which three – do ya think?”
The five outfits were only a hair above cos-play clothes representing, not too subtly: Dominatrix, Japanese School Girl, French Maid, Biker Slut, and Sunday-School Jail Bait.
“I think you're confused, She – uh, Sara” he said using her under-cover name.
“What?” Shego said, almost leering at the clothes, “These are great!”
“You are confused about whom you are buying clothes for, Sara. I get the feeling that those are… things… that you would like to see her wear. I doubt she would feel the same way about seeing you in them. Do you see?”
She thought about it, still staring at the outfits. “Damn. Damn, damn, damn!” Still, she couldn't tear her eyes away. She was especially in the mood for Biker Slut, right now. Red-headed, pointy-chested, Biker Slut.
“Well, I'm getting them anyway. So there. Uhm… any suggestions would be welcome, about now…”
Drakken smirked. He was to give fashion advice to Shego. He looked back at the book he'd bought earlier: ‘Partially Differentiable, Finite-Element Kalman Filtering – For Dummies’.
“Club Banana” he said.
“Doy!”
Ron was reading up on the Legislative Branch of the American Federal Government. He could barely keep his eyes open. Rufus, back from his annual trip to the vet, wasn't even trying, but instead lay fast asleep on the desk next to the telephone.
Ron looked at his pet enviously. “You are SO lucky, Rufus. Not a care in the world, and naked, as well. SO lucky!”
Or perhaps not. The phone rang, and Rufus jumped all the way to the ceiling. He remained hanging there by his claws, panting.
“Hello?” It was probably Wade, or Kim, or maybe -
“It's me.” Dr. Drakken.
“Dr. Drakken? Uh… Hi! Uh… I mean… uh” Ron stammered, a little chagrined over his obvious show of enthusiasm with the “Hi!”.
“Listen, Ron. I'd like to run some names by you. See which ones you like. That alright?” Drakken, too, sounded a bit nervous.
“You… want my opinion on some names?” Ron could handle that. He relaxed, leaning back and putting his feet up on his desk. “So, just what is it we're naming here, Doc?”
“Giant Mechanical Spiders.”
“How ‘giant’?”
“About three stories. 50 feet. So… you'll help me with this?”
“The Ron-man's at your service, Doc! Come ahead with the names.” This was so COOL! Dr. Drakken, Evil Mad Scientist, calling HIM for advice! And, Ron knew, he needed it, too. ‘Explode-oh-Ray’. Seriously.
“Right. Here goes: Spido-bots.”
“I don't think so.”
“Spido-techs?”
“Sounds like what you'd call the maintenance crew. No.”
“Spido -”
“What have you got without ‘Spido’ in it?”
“Oh. Ah…” Ron could hear pages flipping, “Arachno-bots.”
“Closer. Keep going.”
“Arachno-techs.”
“I'm seeing a pattern here, Doc. Keep the ‘Arachno', but drop the ‘tech’. What's left?”
“Uh… Arachnoids.”
Silence.
“I said, ‘Arachnoids’. You there, Ron?”
“I was thinking. Lemme try it out” Ron said. He put the phone down and looked out his window, pointing at nothing in horror, “Oh my God! It's an ARACHNOID! Run!” He picked up the phone again.
“I think you got it, Doc! ‘Arachnoid'! I KNEW you could do it!”
“Oh, well… thank you…” Ron could feel Drakken blushing.
Ron took a sip of soda, “So, three-story tall ‘arachnoids', huh? Got pincers?”
“Spiders don't have ‘pincher's', Ron. That's scorpions.”
“Whatever. Shoots sticky webs, then…”
“Mechanical. No webs, either.”
“Well, what then? Oh, no… don't tell me…”
“Laser-cannons.”
Dr. Drakken has some serious imagination issues, Ron thought. He sighed.
“What am I gonna do with you, Doc? You and the lasers. I swear. It's so sad.”
“What's wrong with lasers? They're twenty-megawatt lasers, you know. Capable of -”
Ron interrupted him. “Do they make a noise?”
“What? A noise?”
“Yeah. When you fire them, do they make a noise. Like ‘zap!’ or ‘foom!'?”
“Of course they don't make a noise…”
“Can you see the beam? Is there a blindingly bright red or green beam?”
“Of course not, let me explain how a ‘laser’ works, Ron. You see -”
“Can it, Doc. So basically, here comes this ‘arachnoid’. It makes no noise, and you can't see if it's shooting anything or not. But things just start melting or exploding suddenly, while it just stands there. That about right for a battle-plan?”
“Well… I hadn't thought about it… but -”
“What's wrong with plain old rockets, Doc? Ever think about that?” Ron took a shot of candy Hot Tamales.
“Rockets?” Drakken asked.
“Yeah. WHOOSH! WIZZZ! FFSSSSAAAOOOWWW! BOOM! Trails of smoke, fireballs. Rockets. What do you have against rockets?”
“Rockets. I see. Actually, they would be quite a lot cheaper…”
“So you can buy more of ‘em! And they don't need the kind of power a laser does, either. But mostly, they'll make your ‘arachnoids’ SCARY, and people will be able to TELL they're destroying things. Instead of pointing to them and wondering what the heck is going on. Get it?”
“I see your point.”
“You sure you're cut out for this business, Doc?”
“I'll have you know, Ron, that -” Drakken began, sounding more than a little insulted.
“Okay okay… I was just pulling your chain, Doc. I didn't mean it. You're Evil. Really. You just need a little… theatre… so people can tell, sometimes. Y'know?”
“Yes, I see… well… thank you for your help… uh, Ron…”
“Anything else I can do?” Ron wasn't ready for the conversation to end. It was the most fun he'd had all day.
“Well, no, I really only called to ask about the names…”
“Yeah, okay. So, I guess you're not gonna tell me what you're going to DO with your ‘arachnoids', huh?”
“Of course not!”
“Okay, calm down. I'll find out sooner or later, I'm sure. Oh, one more thing: you ARE gonna paint ‘em blue, right?”
“Why would I -”
“So people can tell they're YOURS, Doc! Geez! Do I have to think of EVERYTHING here?”
This went on for three more hours. Finally, at one in the morning, after Drakken had finally agreed that the Naco might deserve to be called a “balanced meal”, and Ron had promised to take pre-calculus next year - even if it meant summer-school - they hung up their phones.
Rufus was still staring at him from the ceiling. His eyes were wider than his whole head usually was. “What?” Ron asked the animal.