In the dark, soft wisps of hot air danced like tiny fires against cool skin. Burning nerves felt sharp claws rake across their fragile surface leaving silver scars in lines like shards of moonlight. Soft downy hair was washed in frustration as tension built to mountainous peaks. Each drop of succulent nectar dribbled away in rivulets of near heaven.
Coarse voices reached unity as the mounting heat peaked and found rapture, lasting for eternity, before crashing once more, wrecked upon the sands of a glassy beach. Poor, fractured images clutched together for safety, desperate for the cling of flesh before emptiness could seize them.
Then nothing, but for the sound of breath, and soft slumber.
“Mmmm…” was the first sound of morning, coming like a soft blanket pulled gently away from a dawning sun. The owner of the sound felt heat upon her face and breast, focused and pure, like a knife from the sun, sprinkling her from a breach in the thick curtains that hung across the glass gateway to the outside. The heavy rays signaled not only that dawn had come, but that it had long passed and stretched into noon, on a spring day where the sun had borne its brightest.
There was another heat, however, soft and wet, but comforting, like a silk blanket, heavy on the girl's bare skin. It was home, a feeling of belonging that radiated from this source, but something peculiar as well. It was not a covering of fabric, nor an embrace she had ever felt before, but something her body had once yearned for, not more than a handful of hours ago.
The girl's eyes traced the heat, trapped against her body, and found the raven hair and pale face of another. Her bare body pressed firmly, as if molded, against the form of another. Their once wet skin seamlessly blended together in a display of passion that had, over sleep, cooled, but now had held a most sturdy edge.
All at once the woken girl's body exploded in sensation. The hair on her neck stood on end as it reacted to the leaden arm that had not received proper circulation, the tingling across the pads of her fingers as they wrapped around the loose sheet, and the frightening electricity that played symphonies across the skin in contact with the other. There was no question of the opinion her nerves were making, but it was her mind that rebelled.
With a gasp, the girl pushed herself away, clutching the once virgin sheets to her bosom as she fell to the hard concrete floor and struck her head against the polished wood of the opposite bed. As lumps throbbed in agony, the girl's eyes tracked menacingly over the second bed in the petite room. Still blankets lay undisturbed, apparently through the night, and foggy memories returned. Her roommate had not planned on coming back that day.
The matter of the other, now stirring, form returned to the forefront of thoughts, as the girl tried to articulate the name of the sharp featured beauty before her but the words got caught in her throat. Time sped as the girl's mind slowed, and watched with fascination as the beauty's green eyes opened and she arose on one arm, seemingly unperturbed by her nudity. The girl -- no, the woman -- smiled softly, letting her dark lips part just enough to allow the strawberry tongue within to lick slowly with unveiled hunger.
“'Morning, pumpkin,” her delicate mouth purred and the girl shivered. “Planning on keeping those all to yourself?”
The girl's mind sped through the last few moments to arrive here and she spoke. “Shego,” she whispered. The intent was to yell but she felt strangely short of breath. Closing her eyes her mind washed over the situation and tried to calm, but the girl's body refused to silence its tingling and its yearning for just a smidgen more.
“What?” the woman said, impatient for the girl's internal struggle. “Did you forget?” Her curled lips could no longer constrain the laughter within and it broke out playfully. “I didn't know it was THAT good for you.” The giggles stilled but left behind darkened cheeks as the woman bashfully squeaked, “It was for me, though.”
A lifetime of standards flooded into the girl's mind, overwhelming her body's rebellious signals, and assessed everything that was in view. To her surprise it started with the clothes tossed thoughtlessly on the floor, a mess that her parents wouldn't have tolerated. The girl was not messy, and in any other situation she would have placed them purposefully in the hamper. It was not right.
Her mind turned to the nightstand beside her bed. The picture frame atop it had flopped on its face and the normal collection of odds and ends placed there before sleep was scatted on the ground and under the bed. The clock had vanished as well, although the snake of a black cord tangled menacingly around the stand's legs. Again, she was not messy, and she needed her things to be in plain view in case she had to make a quick exit. It was not right.
The curtains adorning the window beside the bed were ruffled and skewed, which had granted entry to the shard of light that had woken the girl. There were other apartments across from the bedroom, and spying eyes were a frequent concern. Never would she had fallen asleep without securing shelter from voyeurs. Especially if she was going to sleep nude -- which she would never do. It was not right.
Finally, there was the woman with the deep, emerald, entrancing stare who was staring at the girl with satisfaction (and slight embarrassment), oblivious to her own nudity in somebody else's bed. There were too many things to consider about her, and the girl's mind was frantic to process them all. It eventually surrendered to the reality of the situation and offered only a conclusion.
“I'm not,” started the girl, surprised to hear the uncertainty in her voice, “a lesbian.” She finished firmly but only slowly raised her green eyes to look up at the woman's own.
To her surprise, the woman was… in shock? No, it was not shock. The smile seemed to deny that possibility. She seemed surprised but still playful, much of the embarrassment on her face having fled with the girl's declaration.
“I don't suppose you might reconsider that statement,” said Shego. “Given what happened last night.” The woman paused, and slid a graceful hand through a long thick mane of black hair. It was tangled right now, and matted against her face in places, but the woman's hair was full of body and life. Her eyes ran tantalizingly up the girl's body before finding her face. “Unless that was a fling. I could handle that, I guess.”
The woman shuffled slightly and stretched her whole body atop the mattress, making sure every inch of her svelte form could be seen by her former bedmate. After a few moments, she yawned and leaned casually on her hand. “It'd be a real shame though,” she said smoothly. Whatever her mouth had said seemed to be of no concern to her eyes, that wouldn't stop their slow conquest of every inch of the girl's visible skin. The white sheets, which had twisted and slipped tightly against her, offered some compelling sights as well.
“I was drunk,” said the girl, trying to sound more confident than she felt. “I think.”
“This is true,” nodded the woman. “But so was I, and you started sending out signals way before your first drink.” Shego swung her muscular legs over the edge of the bed and pushed herself onto her feet. “You don't need to do this, you know. It’s not like I'm going to mingle with your friends. If it was a fling, it's a fling. I've got no reason to tell anyone.”
“I'm not,” the girl started. “It wasn't--”
“Kimmie,” said Shego, pulling her tangled clothes apart from the girl's. “Tell yourself what you need, I don't care. Unless you're trying to come up with a scenario where I forced you into something, that is.” She slipped her legs into her suit. “I won't stand for that. Especially since, if you remember, while I was receptive, it was you who desired everything.” Her arms slid smoothly into the sleeves and a simple clasp pulled her classic outfit together.
The girl tried to cling to the woman's words but her mind rejected them. There was too much history, too many memories and standards to consider for what Shego was saying to be accurate. The woman was a known liar and this was in line with her schemes.
The feeling of warmth rushed over her again as the girl saw Shego pick up the last of her things and stuff them in her pockets. “Why me?” the girl implored. “You hate me.”
“I don't hate you,” said Shego dismissively. “I certainly don't love you, though. I respect you, I suppose. The way long time enemies tend to do. You always interfere, and it gets harder to keep up with you each time. You gotta wonder why that is? What makes you so special that we have to keep fighting? I train hard to keep up with what you do, part time, at four years my junior. So, yeah, I respect that.”
Shego lifted her brow. “Why… do what we did last night? Because I wonder how that passion expresses itself in other ways. We fight very well together and very aggressively against each other. You and I have talked about it before.” She let her eyes wander slightly as she smiled lazily. “Well, there is an activity that combines aggression with cooperation, and since you offered…” she let it hang with a shrug.
The girl said nothing and the woman took it as the end of the conversation. She headed for the door.
“Wait,” the girl outstretched a hand.
“Sorry, Pumpkin,” the woman turned slightly. “You missed your chance at cuddle time. I don't like to linger too long, anyway. Too many people looking for me these days.”
“I just… don't remember it.” The girl hung her head, her long red hair cascaded around her.
“You will,” Shego said softly. “You weren't that drunk. If you ever feel like ‘flinging’ again, let me know, though. I'll make sure you don't forget next time.” She smirked and left, leaving the girl alone at the floor, clutching her white sheets desperately.
Much of that day was lost to introspection for Kim, recovering only when her roommate, Beth, returned from her weekend trip to Aspen. The slightly older brunette coaxed her into dinner at the student union when she noticed the absent stare in her normally energetic roommate.
To her relief, Beth didn't press Kim for details on her weekend and instead filled the meal talk with stories of snow bunnies in Colorado and the guy she'd nearly bagged on Saturday night. Kim nodded frequently, and mostly restored her stamina by the end of the night. By the next morning, she'd felt refreshed, and it took very little time to get back into her normal routine.
With the exception that she could not have a single moment of boredom anymore without thinking about the departed villain who'd shared her bed the weekend before. She remembered a lot more now, and could recall how her feelings mounted throughout that night that culminated in their union. It was bizarre, like feeling another person's memories, except while she could ignore the dreamlike atmosphere of the hours at the club and bar and even some of the intensity in bed, there was one thing that she could not deny having come from her.
When days stretched into weeks, her mind stopped being merely preoccupied and started to become obsessed. She'd had a few nights of restful sleep but the rest were filled with images of flesh and fire mixed in an almost tribal dance. Something had changed that night and ignoring it was starting to do more damage than she could take.
On the morning of the first day of the third week, Beth was already up by the time Kim stirred. The short haired brunette was immediately by her side and had her hands to her hips. “We gotta talk,” was what she said before throwing a shirt at the face of her roommate. “Get dressed and lets grab some breakfast.”
Kim acquiesced, with few options otherwise, but said nothing until the two were sitting at a diner table drinking coffee. Beth had sweetened her cup with two sugars and was stirring it carefully when she looked up and said bluntly, “All right, spill it.”
“I've…” Kim hesitated, trying to figure out where to start. “I've told you about Shego, right?”
“Hah!” Beth laughed once. “I knew it! You did her, didn't you?”
Kim blinked once then blushed heavily. “Beth--”
“Okay, something about it bothered you, then,” the elder college student mused. “I know you respect this woman, and the few times I've seen you around her, I know you two have got a vibe going on or something. So, either she turned you down and fled, or she didn't and it was awful.”
Kim frowned. “I wish it was that simple.” She sipped her coffee then made a face when she realized she hadn't added cream or sugar.
“Oh, so it was good, then?” asked Beth. She waited for a reaction but only saw her friend add more sugar to her coffee. “Better than good?” Now some cream joined in the cup. “Damn, girl, you don't have that much experience, how great could it have been?”
“Really, really,“ Kim blushed heavier, “great.” She sipped her coffee again and found it to be too sweet. There was nothing she could do, however. It wasn't like she could take the sugar out.
“Then what's the sitch?” the brunette laughed. “To quote you.”
“I just didn't expect it to be that good,” the younger girl admitted. “She's my nemesis, I mean, my enemy. And a girl. It's all wrong.”
“From what I understand,” Beth waved her spoon around like she was conducting. “You haven't treated Shego like an enemy for quite some time.”
“Only because Drakken attacks have been few and far between these days,” explained Kim. “When he does appear, he does have Shego with him.”
“But between those times, like when she shows up on a random Thursday, for instance, I don't see you two trying to kill each other.” Beth moved her coffee as her breakfast showed up. Three soft pancakes and a plate with scrambled eggs and toast. Kim's plate had an omelet. “I just don't think that's how enemies typically act.”
“Well, no,” said Kim, cutting a piece of her three-cheese omelet. “She just happens to know where all the good clubs are and sometimes she lets me in on a few. I think she spends all her time partying. It's not like she needs a side job. I imagine she's richer than Solomon by now. Anyway, it's no big. If she isn't attacking me, I feel I owe her the same.”
Her roommate sighed. “Then there's nothing wrong with Shego being your enemy sometimes and sharing your bed others. Not to mention you knew she was your enemy before you took her to bed. AND you knew she was a girl. So why does it matter now?”
“I don't know!” said Kim, exasperated. She recomposed herself, took a bite of her omelet, and then continued. “I expected it to suck, or at least be boring. I wanted to say in the morning, ‘well, that was a dumb idea, lets never talk of this again, Shego.’ But she was glowing. God, I probably was too.”
Beth ate some of her food as the conversation slipped into silence for a few minutes. In those incredibly long stretches of time, Kim convinced herself that the entire world existed solely of herself and her plate of eggs. Her roommate's voice shattered that illusion, however.
“Why did you want to do it if you thought it would suck?” Beth stared at her plainly.
“Because…” Kim trailed off. The universe of just herself and the plate enticed her to return but she shook off the feeling. “Because she excites me. She has ever since she started coming around the university. I thought it was just adrenaline. I thought it was because she could be trying to fool me and would attack at any moment.”
Kim played with her eggs, but couldn't stomach anymore. “Then I wanted her to attack. So I didn't have to feel guilty that I was hanging out with a criminal and having fun. So I could laugh it off and claim I was just trying to see through her trick.”
The redhead looked down. “Recently I've wanted anything from her. Some sort of clash between us. Every minute I'm with her I think about her, how she could turn on me, how she might not. I wanted to get something from her, a reaction, some way to know that I wasn't the only one who was so tense.”
“When we're out clubbing,” continued Kim. “She just, kinda, flips this switch on her and starts emanating sexual vibes. She likes to party, and she likes to have people hitting on her. When she gets out on the dance floor, she just screams, ‘I'm available’ with her body language and the guys flock to her. So I thought, all right, that's how I'll force a reaction out of her. If she's so available, I'll respond to her.”
Kim said quietly, “It kinda got out of hand after that.”
Beth leaned on her hands and smiled. “That's cute,” she said. “But I still don't see how anything that's happened to you has been bad. Except for the three weeks you've spent thinking about how great she was in the sack instead of telling her.”
“I don't know if I'm ready for that,” said Kim.
“Of course you are!” Beth raised her arms in the air. “You're practically exploding right here trying to keep yourself from vocalizing how great it was for you. I think the only thing you're worried about is what telling her will ‘mean.’ Well, that's crap. Don't waste your brain worrying about what you'll be labeled as and just act on what you can't deny.”
Kim thought about herself, her friends back home, her family, and her life.
Then she thought about Shego. And her ‘friends.’ And her life.
“It's just not that easy,” said Kim.
The green goddess of thievery sighed at the bar in her favorite club. She was dutifully sipping a martini and mentally complaining at how dull the place was tonight. She'd done the rounds, danced for at least an hour or two, but found nobody on the floor that was worth her time. She didn't have all too high standards, after all she worked for Drakken, there just wasn't a good selection this week.
Or last week.
Pretty much ever since… no. She wasn't going there. She was an evil villain who would dominate the world someday and she had more career-minded things to think about. Like whether Drakken was ever going to stop crying and build another doomsday machine.
Shego finished off her martini and waved the bartender over. The man ambled over, and set a green marini down in front of her. She was about to protest, having not yet ordered her drink, when the man motioned towards the end of the bar. The thief traced the path and found herself staring at another pair of emerald eyes at the end of the bar.
“Hey there,” said the newcomer as she reached Shego and sat beside her. “Long time, no see,” she said.
“Ah, oh,” started Shego. “I just figured I'd let you cool off, figure out your cover story for our fling.” She rolled her eyes as she said the last word and mentally scolded herself. She wasn't going to get petty over this. She was the casual one, after all. One-night-stands shouldn't be a surprise for a woman like her.
“I'm sorry for getting all weirded out that morning,” Kim admitted, waving the barkeep down for a drink. “You were right, you don't need to have an excuse for a fling between enemies.”
“No,” nodded Shego. “You don't. So you decided it was a fling, huh?”
“Yup,” Kim nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely. I was out of my mind and I'm pretty sure you weren't entirely level headed.”
“I suppose not,” Shego agreed. She was feeling ill for some reason. “I don't think I'm going to stick around very much longer here, by the way. It's just not good pickings.” She stood and sipped more of her martini, looking for the tally on her tab.
A warmth enveloped her hand as she scanned for the man, and Shego looked to see Kim, closer to her now, and gently holding her hand. The thief almost blushed but controlled herself. “I thought you just said it was a fling?”
“It was a fling,” nodded Kim, “last time. This time, though, I know what I want.”
Shego looked down at the redhead with an arched brow. “Oh really? What's that?”
Kim pulled the hand closer to her chest and stepped up to the raven haired beauty. The girl put her lips close to the woman's ear and whispered, sending soft wisps of hot air against her cool skin.