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Kim wasn’t used to fear. It wasn’t in her vocabulary, and it wasn’t something she felt. Not when she was tied up in an alien spaceship, not when she was freefalling, not the time when she came face-to-face with a bomb — never. So it was ridiculous that one date was doing this to her.
It had never been like this before. Her first date with Josh had turned her into an anxious mess, and her first date with Ron had been sweet, but with Shego? Everything was different.
Her relationship with Josh had been simple. Shallow. She’d liked him, but they’d never gone past that; there had never been anything like love.
Ron had been different. Their feelings had grown slowly, so slowly that neither of them had noticed until it was obvious, until they’d fallen into a relationship that was warm and safe and so loving.
Nothing about Shego was safe or obvious, and Kim had already left like behind. Her feelings weren’t slow or gentle; they were the most intense thing she’d ever felt, and she was afraid of them. Afraid of how she kept leaning into it, afraid of how easily she would sell her soul for a single kiss. It was just —
From day one, fighting Shego had been like balancing at the edge of a cliff. Their banter was like looking over the edge, trying to find the ground. And when Shego had asked her out, more of a statement than a question, really — well, Kim had jumped off the cliff headfirst, without a grappling hook or parachute or even a thought of survival, and she hadn’t looked back.
She checked the time, then looked in the mirror again, studying her outfit. A skirt and shirt, but something was off. She changed the skirt for a pair of pants, glanced at her reflection, and took it all off. No matter what she tried, nothing felt right, and she needed this to be perfect. After all, Shego never looked anything less, and Kim wanted to look like she belonged at her side.
But she had fifteen minutes, and she was back to square one.
Exactly fifteen minutes later, she heard a knock on the door, and looked herself over one last time. A simple black dress with wide straps, and a large gold sun hanging from a chain. She quickly grabbed a sweater — pale pink, and made of something that shimmered — and hoped that Shego wouldn’t be disappointed.
Another knock, and Kim could see Shego’s smirk in her head, could imagine her saying, “Getting cold feet, Cupcake?”
I can do anything, Kim reminded herself. And she opened the door.
Kim had known the restaurant would be nice, even before Shego had told her not to worry about the cost, but nice didn’t cover it. Kim was so out of place here, and she was afraid that someone would call her on it. Was afraid that she would be kicked out before they even reached the table. But Shego looked so comfortable, and so beautiful, and Kim would have willingly followed her into the heart of a black hole. So she didn’t give into the fear and run.
Instead, she focused on Shego — easy, because she was stunning, in a dark green dress with a slit that showed her right leg every time she moved. She’d matched it with earrings that dropped almost to her shoulders, silver chains ending with a single starburst. Kim wanted to reach out and touch, wanted to feel the metal wrapped around her fingers.
When they reached the table, Shego pulled out the chair for her, and Kim thought she might need to start using the word chivalry. Shego had opened the car door to let her in, and now she was pulling out her chair, and it was almost…sweet. Feeling flustered and much too warm, Kim draped her sweater across the back of her chair before sitting in it, and hoped Shego wouldn’t notice her blush.
Shego sat across from her, every movement smooth and controlled, graceful in a way that filled Kim with awe and envy, and no small amount of heat. Kim gave her a small smile, trying to hide the nerves. “You look…really nice.” Beautiful. Amazing. Incredible. Breathtaking. Terrifying. And of course, she was easily the most attractive person who Kim had ever laid eyes on.
Her gaze dropped to Shego’s neckline — just a little deeper than normal, still restrained and appropriate for a place like this, but enough to hold Kim’s attention. Her eyes darted back to the self–satisfied smirk on Shego’s face, and she would have been embarrassed if she hadn’t known Shego so well. If she hadn’t been so sure that Shego had chosen this dress because she wanted Kim to look. Kim wasn’t going to stare, wasn’t going to let her gaze linger shamelessly, but she would look. It was what they both wanted, after all.
“You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“Thanks. You look…” Shego laughed, and Kim stopped talking.
“You already said that one, Pumpkin.”
“Maybe I just like complimenting you.”
“Hmm,” Shego mused. “I am pretty great.”
“Obviously. You’re on a date with me.” Shego’s gaze sharpened, like she knew Kim wouldn’t have turned her down, knew Kim would jump off a cliff if she asked. Knew she’d already jumped and didn’t have a way to stop.
The conversation was easy after that. It wasn’t like their banter, not really, but there was still a give and take that felt familiar. They ordered from a menu that didn’t have prices, and Shego asked for a bottle of wine that Kim had never heard of. Undoubtedly expensive, but she was careful not to drink too much. After all, she wanted to remember tonight. Shego held back too — maybe for the same reason, or because she was driving, or because she didn’t want Kim to feel pressured to have more.
After an especially bad joke, Shego reached across the table and took her hand, and Kim felt her heartbeat slowing. It was odd, she would’ve expected it to speed up, but she was wrapped up in Shego, transported to a place where everything was slow and calm and she could be honest.
“You know, I really l—” Kim cut herself off, the word love still hovering dangerously between her teeth, too honest even for this space. She pressed her lips together and swallowed it back. “I like being around you. Even when we’re not fighting.”
“That’s good, Pumpkin, because I think we’d get kicked out of here if we started a brawl.”
“We could do it anyway.”
Something sparked in Shego’s eyes, and her hand slipped past Kim’s, fingers brushing over her wrist and settling on the inside of her arm. And every cell in Kim’s body lit up.
Ron’s touch had never felt like this. Not when he’d held her hand, or wrapped an arm around her shoulders, or touched her in ways that were deeper and so much more personal. But one brush of Shego’s hand against her skin, and Kim was a live wire, grounded by her touch. Drowning in her eyes and anchored by her fingers.
“You’re right. We could. Just imagine it.” Kim gave into the urge to lean closer, and Shego leaned in too. Her voice dropped, turning conspirational. “You and me, dancing around the restaurant in these dresses until the cops came to stop our party.”
Shego’s fingers traced patterns on the inside of her arm, and her brain felt slow and heavy. Even the simplest thoughts were a challenge; her mind whirled around that simple touch, that conspirational tone, the sly tilt of Shego’s grin.
“Then what?” she asked, barely hearing her own voice. Shego was a snake charmer, and Kim was entranced.
“We’d run, Princess.” The name resonated through her entire body, striking something that belonged entirely to Shego. “Maybe we’d find somewhere to dance for real.” Shego’s fingers suddenly wrapped around her arm. Not tight, not a real hold, but still real, and Kim had to forcefully remind herself that 1. They were in public, and 2. Their banter only worked if she bantered back.
But damn was it hard to think of anything but Shego’s hand.
“Cat got your tongue?” Shego asked smugly, and Kim realized that Shego knew. It should’ve been obvious from the start, but Kim had missed it, and Shego was reveling in this.
“Not a cat,” Kim said, looking pointedly at her arm, “and that’s not my tongue.”
Shego’s eyes gleamed. “If you—”
“I can use my words, Shego.” Shego’s eyes widened, and her fingers tightened around Kim’s arm before relaxing again. Like Kim had surprised her, like she was affected by this too. “And my heels would make running a little hard.”
“But not fighting?”
“I’m sure I could manage.”
“I’m sure you could,” Shego said with a smile. “There’s just one problem.”
“What?”
Shego released her arm and leaned back, lips curling into a very satisfied smirk. “You’re not wearing heels.”
Stupid. Kim had changed clothes so many times that she’d forgotten, but Shego hadn’t. Shego had noticed, and remembered, and fuck. “Just wanted to see if you were paying attention.”
Shego raised an eyebrow, but didn’t call her on the obvious lie. “Yes, I paid lots of attention to how short you are.”
“You really know how to make a girl feel special,” Kim said, letting the jab roll right off her shoulders.
“I thought this restaurant was special enough. And I wouldn’t wear this dress for just anyone.”
Kim glanced at Shego’s neckline again, and her heart sped up for reasons that had nothing to do with the dress. Shego thought she was special, and that made her heart race, but she didn’t answer. She wanted to hear what else Shego might say, if she pushed just a bit. The silence was more than a small push; it was a gauntlet thrown on the ground, and she was daring Shego to pick it up.
“Fine.” Shego took a shaky breath. “You’re not wearing heels. You’re wearing black flats. There are three places where you could close your necklace, and you picked the shortest one. And the tattoo on your right shoulder blade ends with the letters u d. Is that enough attention for you?”
“How did you see that? The. The tattoo.” Kim felt like she was being strangled, like her short necklace was a noose. The tattoo was new, and she hadn’t told anyone. And it wasn’t in a private place, but it still felt private.
“You should put your sweater back on.” Kim nodded, wishing she hadn’t rushed to open the door, wishing she’d taken the time to check her reflection from the front and back. She fumbled with the sweater, stuffing her arms through the sleeves until the fabric settled against her back.
Kim braced herself for a question, but Shego just took her hand again. “Aren’t you going to ask?”
“Well, I wouldn’t be a very good date if I started an interrogation in the middle of your freak out, would I?”
“I’m not—”
“It’s okay.” Shego’s voice was so gentle, like Kim was something she wanted to keep safe. Not like she was fragile or needed protection. Like Shego was saying that she didn’t want to hurt her, even if she could. “You don’t have to tell me. And I promise not to look at your back when we have sex.”
Kim drew her hand back so she could bury her face in her hands and laugh. Because Shego was so much more than she’d expected, and because that was the best mix of hilarious and honest, and because it was too soon to be so in love with someone. She was drowning in these feelings, but she didn’t care; she would gladly asphyxiate if it meant she could hear those words again and again.
I promise not to look at your back when we have sex. Hilarious, but also true. It was a real promise, not a throwaway, not something that would be forgotten in the heat of the moment. Kim loved her for it.
“I wish we were alone, because I really want to kiss you right now.”
“Maybe later, Princess.”
The word love was hammering against her teeth again, like a prisoner begging for release. Kim couldn’t free it, so she said the next best thing.
“It means ‘anything is possible.’ In Irish. Because my family, um, is, is, we’re… It. That. Anyway, so, that’s— I mean. You can look when we have sex.”
The words blurred together at the end, but she’d said them, for the first time, out loud. Maybe it should’ve been a relief, but she’d never felt so exposed before, and she already wanted to take it back. She wanted a grappling hook or a time machine, something that would let her reverse time and claw her way back to safety.
Because no matter how gentle Shego had been so far, Kim didn’t feel safe anymore. She felt vulnerable, like Shego could take a lockpick and pull her to pieces. But no, Shego didn’t need a lockpick to pry her apart, and she didn’t need claws to slice her open. It would take just a few words, or a single laugh, and Kim would shatter.
“Why?”
Why? Why? Why?
“My family has always, you know, ‘anything is possible for—’ so it’s kinda, I mean I— we, it’s—”
Shego squeezed her hand, and Kim’s eyes locked with hers. Kim made a mental note to never play poker with Shego, because her face gave nothing away. It was like a lake on a cool day, when the surface was even and still and swallowed the ripples of skipping stones. “Try again. And maybe try breathing this time.”
Oh.
“Right.” Breathe in, breathe out. “I always said ‘anything is possible for a Possible,’ because it’s the family motto. And I mean, just look at my family. But I wanted to…”
Kim didn’t know how to explain it, how to say that she’d always seen herself as the least accomplished Possible. She was the only one who hadn’t gotten straight A’s, the only one who didn’t want to add ‘doctor’ to her name, the only one who’d seen the word ‘anything’ and tried to turn it into something else. She knew her parents included her accomplishments when they said that motto, but Kim needed more. She needed them to belong to her too.
Breathe in, breathe out.
“It’s still the family motto. But it’s mine too. Anything is possible for me. I know it’s dumb…”
“It’s not,” Shego said, with so much certainty that Kim suddenly remembered that Shego had started a whole new life as villain, but had kept her Team Go name and catsuit. She’d never left her brothers behind. “But it’s nice to know that I can peek when we have sex.”
Kim laughed again. It was still so ridiculous, but it was the perfect way to break the tension, and she felt so safe. Shego could’ve torn her to shreds, but she hadn’t. She’d been patient and gentle and kind, and she’d listened.
If someone gave her a time machine, Kim would smash it on the ground.
Shego walked her to the door, and it solidified the word chivalry in Kim’s mind. There was so much more to Shego than she’d known, and she wanted to know more. She wanted to spend years studying everything about her.
“I had a really nice time,” Kim admitted, feeling a little cliché, just enough to make her cheeks burn. She hesitated, not sure if she should invite Shego inside, and also waiting for Shego to invite herself.
Shego smiled at her, a real smile, honest and full of warmth. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Did you? Have a good time?”
“What do you think?”
Kim remembered Shego’s fingers wrapped around her arm, the way her entire body had lit up from a single touch, and she made up her mind. “Do you want to come in?”
“Maybe next time.” Kim flushed in embarrassment, looking at the ground. How had she read this so wrong?
She felt a finger under her chin, tilting her head up, and then Shego kissed her. It was nothing like she would’ve imagined — soft and gentle, a careful exploration instead of a passionate explosion.
Shego almost laughed when they separated. “You don’t have to look so disappointed.”
“I’m not! It was great. Really.” And it had been. But— “I was just expecting something different.”
Shego smirked. “Don’t worry, Kimmie. I’ll save that for next time. But I keep my clothes on for first dates.”
“Can I get a sneak peek?” Kim asked, and maybe there was just a hint of a puppy dog pout on her face.
Rather than answering, Shego stepped closer, backing Kim into the front door and planting a hand on either side of her shoulders. “You think you’re so cute, don’t you?”
Kim tried to answer, but Shego’s mouth was on hers before she could speak, open-mouthed and dirty from the start. Shego’s tongue ran along the length of hers, and Kim made some type of noise into her mouth, and all the intensity from the restaurant came rushing back. She was a live wire again, sparking at both ends, already starting to burn, with nothing to ground her this time.
She kissed back almost desperately, because this was the most important thing she’d ever done. More important than saving the world, more important than locking up villains — this. Kissing Shego, keeping pace with Shego, sharing this passion without saying a word.
Shego pulled back suddenly and Kim chased after her, before blinking her eyes open to see that Shego was already two feet away. Kim didn’t reach for her though; her entire body felt weak, and she thought she might fall over if she took a single step.
“There’s your sneak peek.”
“You’re evil.”
“You asked for it. Don’t worry, you’ll get more next time.”
“And I promise you can look at my back,” Kim said, hoping for a laugh. Instead, something flickered in Shego’s eyes, and she studied Kim with an intensity that made her want to run, or kiss her, or drown.
“I love you too.”
And Shego walked away without another word.