Kim could not explain the smile on her face to anyone. It had been in place for close to a week, and even Bonnie’s scathing remarks could not dull its brightness. Her parents were too pleased to see their daughter happy to inquire as to the smile’s origins. Even Ron, oblivious though he could be, could not help but wonder as to why his best friend was so cheerful.
The cause of Kim’s smile was nothing particularly new, nor was it terribly odd. Such a smile could be found on the face of any person who was anticipating something that was almost guaranteed to be wonderful. For Kim, the prospect of a Saturday night date was more than enough to keep a smile on her face for an entire week, even if it was a secret outing.
Kim had demanded Wade install a special private line on the Kimmunicator, and had given the contact code to only one person: Shego. It was through this clandestine communication that the two young women arranged their meetings, and Shego had called Kim one fine Saturday afternoon to arrange just such a date. Kim had been overjoyed to hear from Shego and eagerly accepted the offer.
With lives unlike any other, Kim and Shego could not conform to any particular schedule. There were times when they would go mere days between dates, and there were times when there could be a month or more between their meetings. Shego’s call had come after six weeks, and Kim was desperate to go out and while away the night. Shego was quite happy to do the same, and so they planned.
Kim lay the black dress on her bed, smoothing out any small wrinkles with sweeps of her hands. The satin was cool and sleek under her fingertips. Though her cheeks were weary, she could not stop a smile from curling her lips. It was rare for her black dress to leave her closet, but she could think of no better reason to retrieve it. Shego had promised her a night of dancing in a small, private club, and the dress would be perfect for such a place.
Still caressing the cloth absent-mindedly, Kim glanced at the digital clock on her nightstand. The red numbers shone brightly in the dark of her room: eleven twenty-two. Her parents had gone to bed more than an hour ago, and her brothers had shuffled sleepily into their room shortly thereafter. Though she could hear the snores of her father and brothers, Kim walked with a light step. She began to move toward her closet to pick a suitable slip for the dress when the Kimmunicator chimed.
Kim snatched the small device immediately, smothering the beeping with her hands. Her thumb struck the receive button, her eyes moving to the screen as it filled with light. She had almost steeled herself for the sight of Wade before she realized that Shego was on the screen. Her heart leapt, and her smile returned.
“Hey,” she said in a cheery whisper. “I thought you were a call for a mission.”
“Kim.” Shego’s voice was little more than a sigh as Kim propped the Kimmunicator on the nightstand.
“Look,” Kim said. She took the dress by the shoulders and lifted it. She flattened it against her body, modeling it with a smile. “Do you like it?”
“Kim.”
“It isn’t too formal, is it? I’m not going to wear any makeup though.” Kim laid the dress on the bed, turning toward the closet. “I should really get dressed. You’re getting here around midnight, right?”
“Kim, listen.” She paused, looking at the screen. Shego wore her green and black suit, her lips pulled in a frown. “I can’t make it tonight. I’m sorry.” Kim blinked once, her smile slowly fading. “It’s Drakken, he—he needs me to do something.”
“You’re going to steal something.” Shego’s eyes turned away from Kim.
“He needs it for his latest plot. Some stupid thing—I didn’t even really listen. Kim, I’m sorry, I have to.” Kim sank down next to the dress, pulling the soft cotton of her purple nightgown over her knees. Her grip tightened, bunching the cloth.
“It’s your job,” she murmured. Shego sighed and looked back at Kim. The young woman’s eyes were fixed on the floor, her fingers twisting in the bunched fabric of her nightgown.
“Kim, I’m sorry,” Shego said softly. “I really want to go out with you tonight.”
“It’s your job,” Kim repeated. “Go do it.” Shego opened her mouth, reaching for the screen, but sighed and pulled back her hand. She pulled in a deep breath, her eyes locked on Kim.
“I’ll call you soon. I promise.”
“’Kay.” Shego felt her throat tighten, and her hands stiffened painfully. “Goodnight, Shego.” Kim reached out and picked up the Kimmunicator, her thumb moving to the disconnect button.
“I love you, Kimmie. I do.” Kim paused, unable to look at the screen. She sucked in a wavering breath.
“I love you, too,” she said quietly. “Goodnight.” She pressed the button and returned the Kimmunicator to its place on the nightstand. Without pausing, she stood up and picked up the dress. She grabbed a hanger from her closet and quickly put the dress onto it, shoving the hanger back into place. Silently, she walked back to her bed and crawled under the covers, tugging them up to her chin.
Hundreds of miles away, Shego began to swear bloody murder and stormed away from the computer console, snarling despite the lump in her throat.
It was a mere ninety minutes later when Kim woke to the sound of rain battering the world beyond her windows. She lifted her head from her pillow, wondering briefly when she’d closed her eyes for longer than a moment. The sound of the rain drew her attention once more, and she let the covers fall from her shoulders. For minutes on end she sat staring at the rain, her mind focusing on subjects that pushed back the real reason she could not find sleep.
She wondered how cold the rain was. The spring was in full bloom, and the weather had warmed greatly from winter. It was the calmest, strongest storm in her recent memory. No wind lashed the droplets against the window, and neither rolling thunder nor distant lightning split the sky. The rain simply poured down. It bordered on soothing, but Kim did not lie down. She slid out of her bed, walking to the window and laying her palm on the glass.
Without thinking, she pushed open the window, leaning on the sill. The rain that fell on her head was pleasantly cool, and she shivered when droplets trickled down her hair to the back of her neck. She wondered how the rain would feel on her bare shoulders, how quickly it would soak through her nightgown and chill her. Barely breathing, Kim stepped up onto the windowsill and jumped lightly to the tree in the yard ten feet away.
The bark of the tree was damp, but it had not absorbed enough of the rain to become slippery. Nevertheless, Kim climbed down carefully, drawing in a quick breath when her bare feet touched the wet grass. As she began to walk, she held back a giggle, having forgotten how well grass could tickle her feet. Her toes wiggled when she stepped from the grass into a puddle on the sidewalk near the house. The water sent shivers dancing up her legs, and she stepped quickly from the puddle.
She began to walk, eyes focused on a point beyond the horizon. Though she was aware of how the straps of her nightgown had slipped from her shoulders, she made no move to correct them. She felt the rain on her bare shoulders, her mind slowly connecting the largest drops with the softest tap of fingers. Kim paused for a moment, closing her eyes.
Would Shego have taken off her gloves for their dancing that night? Would she have taken Kim’s shoulders in her bared hands, or let them rest on the soft flair of Kim’s hips? Shego was a remarkable dancer, always able to move with a fluid grace that Kim wished she could equal. A private club would have opened so many possibilities. Shego could have danced to fast, pounding music, teasing Kim with each sway of her hips and every slow smile. They could have danced to slow music, wrapped in each other’s arms. They could have done any number of wonderful things.
Kim opened her eyes, walking forward with a forceful stride. She did not want her eyes to burn so viciously. She did not want her throat to ache, nor her jaw to tighten. In her mind, she began to repeat a simple thought, over and over: “I’m not going to cry.” For a moment, it appeared as though her mantra would succeed. She had almost decided to turn around and start back toward her house when sharp, stinging pain lanced through her foot and dropped her suddenly to one knee.
Her hands immediately closed around the toes of her right foot. Hissing, she moved her hands briefly enough to see the cut on her big toe and the sharp rock that had caused the wound. The cut sang with pain when exposed to the open air, and Kim clamped her hands down on it once more. She bit her lip, drawing in deep, shuddering breaths. It was a small, insignificant wound when compared to those she had received in the past. Despite this, it stung terribly, and tears welled in her eyes.
She blinked only once, and could not find the will to open her eyes again. Tears began to pour down her face as she bowed her head. Her body was completely still as she knelt on the ground and cried, the softest sound coming from her as she drew in slow breaths through her teeth. Kim neither knew nor cared how long she spent on one knee on the sidewalk in the rain. All she thought of was the promise Shego had broken, and tears continued to flow from her eyes.
With water pounding on her head and sluicing through her ears, Kim did not hear the footsteps at first. The sound soon became impossible to ignore. She recognized the soft slap of flip-flop sandals against skin, and the pattering of raindrops against an open umbrella. When the rain abruptly vanished, she lifted her head and opened her eyes. For a moment, neither Kim nor Shego spoke.
Shego crouched down, holding the umbrella over Kim. The back of her dark violet shirt soon grew as damp as the hems of her forest green slacks, but she held the umbrella steady. Her long, thick hair soon grew wet, falling over her shoulders. Using her free hand, Shego tucked her hair behind her left ear, still looking at Kim with misery plain in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, princess.” Her words were nearly lost to the rain, but Kim managed to hear them. “Please don’t cry.” Kim could do nothing but the opposite, sniffing mightily as the tears began again. Shego reached out, cupping Kim’s cheek in her hand. “I didn’t want to drop our plans.”
“Why?” was the only word Kim could say. Shego did not sigh or shift her gaze, instead wiping away Kim’s tears with her thumb.
“I don’t know,” she replied weakly, her voice cracking. She could not and would not try to give excuses or explanations. There was nothing that would take back what she had done, or give Kim the night she had so desperately wanted. Shego let her hand drift from Kim’s cheek, wrapping her arm around Kim’s shoulders and pulling her close. “I’m so sorry, Kimmie. Please don’t cry anymore.” Kim pressed her face against Shego’s neck, letting the tears fall.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
An apology was all that could be given, but the soft, earnest whispers made it easier to begin to forgive.
—end—