“Get in the car, Ko.”
She complied without a word, and Josh turned the Rover around and headed back to Caracas.
“KIDNAPPED? WHERE? WHEN?” Ron screamed.
“Calm down Ron! They just found his Guide knocked-out in -” Kim tried to tell him.
“I… I gotta go. WE gotta go! C'mon!” Ron continued shouting as he ran towards the front of the hangar.
“Ron! Listen to me! It was at the Caracas International Airport! No one saw anything! We have no idea -” Kim still tried, but it wasn't doing much good. Sheaghen was watching from a corner of the hangar, taking data. This was the kind of thing that happened, apparently, when the meat-bags got involved with whatever their version of her sensory-overload was. They went insane.
Sara ran towards Ron and tackled him, the two of them going down on the hard cement floor. She struggled to pin him down – he seemed uncharacteristically strong, and moreover, his movements were incredibly fast.
“Ron! Ron! There's nothing we can do right now! Calm – ugh – down!” She was having trouble keeping her grip as he bucked and squirmed. Kim was running to help. Neither of them had ever seen Ron like this.
“Let me go! Shego! Let me - LET ME GO!” he screamed, lifting Sara into the air by buckling himself into her as she straddled him. Before Sara could figure out that she was airborne, and before Kim could even get there, Ron was on his feet, seething rage on his face.
He began to lash out with fists and feet at the same time. As Kim came up from behind, he kicked at her without looking, connecting with the top of her pelvis, doubling her over and knocking her back four feet. Sheaghen ran to her side. At the same time, his fist connected with Sara's jawbone from the side, twisting her head to the left. Her whole body followed suit due to the force of the blow.
They were no “warning shots” from him. He was beyond that. If something happened to Josh, and they kept him from going, they would die. It was a feeling, not a thought. He had no time for thinking.
Sara recovered first. This would be For Real, and she was up for it. Ron wasn't nearly as skilled as she or Kim were… but somehow, he had power and speed they'd never seen before. Perhaps it was the anger, they didn't have time to ask.
Sara went in, blocking and kicking, trying to find purchase on him, trying to connect. Ron's fighting was clumsy, un-trained. He was going on instinct. But, she could tell, if even one of his punches or kicks were to find its mark, something would probably break. Kim was lucky if she didn't have something broken already, and he hadn't even been looking at her! But she had no time to wonder, only to react. Ron was landing glancing blows on her legs and upper-arms because she was – barely - able to get out of the way in time. Sara lit up her plasma. She was beginning to become afraid.
“Ron! Stop it! It's US!” she tried to reason with him. He didn't even hear.
But suddenly, he was kicked forward: Kim had gotten both feet into the middle of his back by leaping above his defending leg. It was enough to distract him. Shego killed the fire and got in a punch to his gut, but another to his head was blocked. The surprise had only made him fight harder, made the situation worse.
Sara was going to have to hurt him.
The added distraction of Sheaghen gave her the chance. While she couldn't be sure it would work, it seemed like the best idea at the time: she used the finger-blades of her gloves and sliced open his face from brow to cheek, above and below his right eye. That eye was soon covered with oozing blood.
Ron howled in pain. But still he did not stop.
She cut into his chest, his belly, his arms as opportunity afforded. She was waiting for her chance at his remaining good eye. The other two girls – human and synth – continued throwing punches and kicks when they could, trying to give Sara room and time to work. Ron was screaming incoherently as his own movements ripped the cuts further open. The pain gave him even more strength.
In a blindingly fast series of brute-force moves, he had Sara down, her hands pinned underneath her back by his weight straddling her belly. Both hands together, he raised them above his head, as if intending to mash her skull to pulp. For just a second – it may have been the sweat in her eyes – she swore she saw a sword - broad, heavy, and double-edged - in his hands.
“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME!” he screamed through the blood and pain. His good eye looked directly into hers.
“Because you needed me to, Comrade” Sara said quietly back.
It was over. She'd done her best, but she couldn't overcome Ron's insanity for the loss of his lover. At least, she'd done what a comrade should: she'd tried. She accepted it. If it had been Kim kidnapped, he probably would have had to do exactly the same thing, if he could. She understood.
She understood. He saw that. He'd seen it before, but from the other side, somehow. Where?
As a Soldier of the Empire, even a lowly one who hadn't served long enough to become a Roman Citizen yet, life was hard - but better than he'd known before. At least he was fed and clothed. At least he was provided with a weapon.
But this duty… was the worst. Guarding the criminals from a mob that wanted only to taunt and humiliate them. They had no idea what these criminals were going through. They didn't have to stand guard, day after day, 12 hours at a time and watch them slowly go insane and – even more slowly – die. It could take weeks.
This particular criminal seemed to be more hated than usual, judging from the extra humiliation they were giving him. And the man wasn't even a murderer, or thief, or adulterer! He was only a radical. He could see that the crowd didn't like his ideas. Or maybe they were just disappointed in him. He couldn't tell.
He did what he'd done so many times before, for so many of the slowly dying: he put on his Ugly Roman act, shouted a few Latin obscenities, and thrust his sword into the man's side. But not quite far enough, to his horror, only penetrating the lung - not the heart. He watched as phlegm and blood poured from the wound: the man would probably live several more hours. But he didn't dare do it again, that would look suspicious. They were SUPPOSED to suffer, after all.
All he could do was stand there and guard. But for some reason, he looked up into the eyes of the poor radical he'd just mortally wounded. The man nodded curtly at him through his pain: I understand. Thank you.
The Soldier tore his hazel-colored eyes away from the dying man and jerked his head forward to face the crowd; away from the horrible, understanding, forgiving eyes. He understood?
The whole world would revile the Soldier for what he had done, and who he had done it to. He would be vilified, his very name would eventually become a curse, and his action would never, NEVER be forgotten. All because no one – no one else – understood: anything, ANYTHING one could do to shorten a man's time up on the cross, was doing him a favor.
The sword Sara thought she saw dissolved back into dust motes and shadows, the rage drained from Ron's face, and he collapsed on top of her, sobbing. Kim and Sheaghen could only stand back in wonder of what had happened. Sara managed to pull her arms out from under herself and wrap them around Ron's back, patting and consoling him.
“It's all right, Ron. Comrade. It's all right…” she repeated over and over.
It had taken an hour to clean up Ron and bandage all his cuts. It was another hour before he could stop crying. In all that time, the phone never rang with news of Josh. They all felt absolutely helpless, and suffered it in silence.
“Helooooo! Anyone home? It's meeeee.” Someone was shouting at the hangar bay door.
Ron looked up. “Josh?”
“Heeeelllloooooo! Ron? Kim? Sheg- uh, Sara? Hellooo-”
“JOSH!”Ron screamed and bolted out of the locker-room before even Sheaghen could blink.
Seeing Ron – red-soaked bandages across half his face, and many places on the rest of his body – stunned Josh, and he could only stand there, mouth open, eyes wide, as his boyfriend came running.
“JOSH!' Ron cried, lifting the other boy off his feet and nearly squeezing the life out of him.
He choked “R- Ron… huh… ah…”
Finally Ron put him down and loosened his bear-hug just enough to let Josh breathe.
“Ron?” Josh tried to talk between pants, “the… hell… happened… to you?”
Kim answered instead, “It's a long story, Josh. We… we were all worried about you. And, well, some more than others… I mean… oh, gawd, I can't believe I said that…”
Josh smiled over the blonde head still buried in his shoulder. “I think I understand. But, did someone attack him or something? I mean -”
Sara spoke up, “I did Josh. I did all that stuff to him. Like Kim said, it's a long story. I had to. There's… there's a lot we need to talk about… I saw something, I think, uh… about Ron. And – well, it can wait. Welcome back, Josh.” She gave him a fretful hug, unsure of how he might react to what she'd said. This made the second time Josh had caught her damaging his lover. How many times would he put up with?
But he could tell from the way she'd said it – this situation was different. “It's okay, Shego… uh, dammit, I mean, ‘Sara’ -”
“Y'know what?” Sara said to them all, frowning, “Let's go back to ‘Shego’. As long as you know my real name, I can deal. What I can'tdeal with is all the ‘Sheg – uh, Sara’ all the DAMN time! That okay with everyone?”
Kim beamed. Josh nodded and smiled. Sheaghen smirked and shrugged. Ron remained buried in Josh's neck.
“Uh, Ron? Earth to Ron? Hellooo Rooonnnn…” Shego teased.
“… fife wiff meh” came Ron's muffled response.
Josh pushed Ron off and held him by the shoulders, looking into his un-bandaged eye.
“I missed you too, Ace” he said, kissing him on the bare side of his forehead. The girls all observed Ron's single exposed cheek begin to blush.
“I bet there's a story behind those cute nicknames you guys have, isn't there… ‘Skeeter'”, Kim teased. Upon which Josh blushed, too.
“Uh. Yeah. But listen… I'm not alone. I brought… uh, Lee gave me something, and I brought – uh, it – with me.”
Ron became all seriousness, “You brought something from Lee here? Are you… are you CRAZY?”
The Kim and Shego looked at each other, then shared a glance with Sheaghen as well. They knew all about “crazy”.
“No, Ron, I'm not. I… I think it could help us understand Lee better, and that'd be a good thing, right? Only, well… it's a person. Lee gave me a slave.” He was going to put off telling them who the slave was as long as possible.
Sheaghen, perhaps more sensitive to the word “slave” than the others, said, “Do you have any idea how disgusting that sounds? A ‘slave’?”
“Yeah, well… she's been told to obey me in all ways, and to always tell me the truth, and never hide anything. ‘Slave’ seemed to fit.”
“You mean like the way you're hiding something?” Ron said suspiciously.
Well, so much for “as long as possible”. “It's, uh… it's Ko.”
Stunned silence.
Josh yelled, “C'mon in, Ko!”, and she walked purposefully to his side from where she had been standing out of their view beside the hangar.
Kim thrust her head forward, face unbelieving: “THAT'S Ko?” She turned to look at Shego, who had closed her eyes and lowered her head in shame. Shego nodded yes. “Holy Fuck!” Kim cried. Everyone looked at her, even Ko herself. “I mean… uh… holy fuck!” Kim had imagined Ko to be good-looking, but not… not like that. “… holy fu-”
“OKAY! KP, we get it. ‘Holy fuck’. We know. Geez. And girls think men are shallow…” Ron chided her.
“Uh… sorry” Kim said, abashed. Holy fuck!, she thought. Standing next to Ko, Kim felt almost like a boy.
“So Josh, how do you know she doesn't have a bomb inside her or something, and is about to blow ‘Team Possible’ to bits?” Ron asked in all earnestness. The presence of Ko was making him nervous.
Josh answered carefully, “Because that's not part… I mean, that's not how Lee works. It just isn't. I can't explain.”
Now Shego was suspicious, “Why not?”
Josh looked at her, “Because Dr. Director showed me both her eyes and told me not to. ‘Kay?”
“Uh, yeah” “Both of…”“All I need.” “Works for me.” Sheaghen only giggled.
Ron still wanted more. “Okay, we'll give you that. What is it, exactly, we're going to learn from her?”
“I dunno, Ace” Josh answered, “I don't do people and emotions and hidden motivations and stuff. That's your job” he said pointedly.
“It is? Am I getting a reputation?”
“Duh” Kim said. “Doy” Shego said. “What they said” Josh added. Sheaghen only giggled.
Josh drove them all to the Royal Palace Hotel in Satan's Land-Rover. The license plate read “CNT Y0R BLSNGS” Shego had Ko take the middle-row seat, so that she and Kim could keep an eye on her. Ron and Josh rode up front.
The hotel had cold and cold running water. It was fairly up-scale, for Venezuela. A heater in the shower-head was wired to the electricity, the splices wrapped with electrical tape. They were all starving-hungry, although if Ko was, she didn't say anything.
“You guy bring me back something… I don't wanna go out like this” Ron said motioning to his many bandages.
Shego sighed. “Uhm… Ron? Could I see you privately? In there?” She pointed to one of the two bedrooms of the suite.
“I s'pose. May I ask what for?”
“Well… I think I can, uh, use my powers to get you healed up.”
“Shego!” Kim looked at her in shock, “Why didn't you mention that before? We've changed those bandages twice now, and you never -”
“It's kind of a… private thing, Kim. At least, I think it will be. I'm not even sure it'll work. But if it does it's gonna be, uh… personal.”
“How personal?” Kim wanted to know. Ron did too, though he didn't say anything.
“SO personal” Shego answered without humor.
Ron began to feel uncomfortable with the idea. After Shego had shared her most intimate moments with Ko without batting an eye, he could only imagine what she might think of as “SO personal”.
“Uh, maybe that's not such a -” Ron tried to weasel out.
Shego only sighed, turned, and took his hand to lead him into the bedroom, “Oh, c'mon, comrade. You'll get over it.”
She had to pull him into the room like a dog visiting the vet. She closed the door behind them.
“Uh, Shego, I'll be okay… you don't -”
“Shut-up, Ron. And take off all your clothes.” She began peeling off her body-suit.
“Uh…”
“I said, ‘Shut-up, Ron’.”
Both of them nude, she began to remove his bandages. Blood still flowed as she pulled them off.
“Is there a reason we have to be naked for this?”
“You'd rather have your clothes and Band-Aids burned off?”
“Ah. I see.”
“Okay, now stand on my suit here. Right. Okay. Like I said, I dunno if this is going to work, but if it does, I think we should just… not say anything about what… what happens” she looked into his eyes, “Okay?”
“One question?”
She sighed. “Shoot.”
“You don't have to do this. Why are you?”
She thought about it. “Because you would.”
He nodded. She put her arms around him, pulling him tight, and he did the same. He pulled her hair to the side so he could see: he was facing the dresser/bathroom end of the room. Shego was facing the bed and wall behind. They stood there pressed together, cheek-to-ear. Shego began to softly glow. Soon, his body began to glow as well, and green light filled the room.
It was… confusing. He was far too embarrassed to get an erection, even with the feel of her soft breasts on his bloody chest… but even so, her warmth was erotic, and he became aware of her penis pressing against his vulva, while his nipples stiffened and – waitaminnit. The pain was dissipating. But he was facing the bed. That wasn't right. But…
And…
He/She closed his/her eyes; seeing both ends of the room at once was something his/her occipital lobes weren't evolved to handle, and it actually hurt trying. Same thing with sorting out what he/she was physically feeling. The human brain couldn't deal with being in two separate bodies at the same time, and their physical differences only added to the painful confusion. He/She felt dizzy and faintly sick.
The glow was mercury-vapor bright now, the light seeped out from under the door and around the cracks in the frame. The spectators on the other side watched and wondered.
The union was complete. The pain was gone. Only the blood remained. He/She knew it was time to separate, but for two things: he/she didn't want to, and he/she didn't know how. The experience was not sexual, it was not love, it was not even comradeship. It was just… an indescribable sense of SHARING, of not being ALONE, in a way he/she hadn't known they even WERE alone before. He/She, and everybody else, had always enjoyed – and valued - the sanctuary of their own minds, the most Private Place, but that was only because they COULDN'T share it. And now, he/she was. And it was good.
But it had to end. IT HAD TO END!
He/She tried to trick him/herself. He/She thought of Kim, Josh… no help there. Lee, Drakken, Dr. Director, Margaret Thatcher… no use. Their minds were melted together like water infused with oil. Except that in this case, the oil COULD actually dissolve in the water, and become part of it. And if that happened, they would never be able to part.
And that was about to happen, he/she could feel it. Perhaps it was happening already.
He/She could feel the other in their arms, although the mere awareness brought a knife-like pain into his/her brain. He/She could force them apart. Maybe physical separation would lead to mental separation. It was worth a try, but – as he/she tried to reposition their four arms, the pain became incredible. Finally, hands on each other's shoulders, the pain excruciating, he/she pushed.
The light went out. They thumped onto the floor, the both of them leaving burn marks, silhouettes of their bodies singed into the fibers of the carpet. But they were Separate, again. Ron and Shego raised up on their elbows and just looked at each other for a long while, feeling the loneliness inside they hadn't known was there. But the memory of what it was like to not feel that loneliness was like a dream, and it was quickly fading.
“You okay?”, one of them said. It didn't matter which.
“Yeah.”
They helped each other up and dressed in silence. Shego stepped into his boxers while Ron slipped her bra over his head. At the same time, they stopped and stared: at the boxers, the bra, and then each other. It wasn't a sign of anything gone wrong, they were Separate, they were themselves. But apparently, they would have to make a conscious effort to remember which one they were, at least for awhile.
They both began to laugh - at themselves, as much as each other.