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Kim wasn’t concerned as she walked to Shego’s office. Most people would have been afraid, or at least intimidated; after all, a summons from Shego could mean anything from a dangerous job to a painful death. It rarely meant a conversation, a bit of flirting, and a drink or two.
But Kim had played this carefully — approaching Shego first, pushing back just enough to keep her interested, letting her believe she had control. Of course, she didn’t know that she was following Kim’s script to a T.
Kim knocked on the door, and Shego’s voice came from inside. “Who’s there?”
“Kim Jefferson.” The lie fell from her lips easily, part of the illusion that she’d carefully built here. And maybe it wasn’t all an illusion — maybe Shego did have power over Kim Jefferson. But not Kim Possible.
A pause, and then, “Come in.” Kim opened the door, and Shego was sitting behind her desk, not a paper or a laptop in sight; she’d hidden any documents before letting Kim in, and her drawers were almost certainly locked.
Shego was smarter than any of her past marks. Cleaner.
The door clicked quietly closed behind her, and she walked towards Shego. “I brought you a gift.”
“Is that so?” For the tiniest moment, Kim imagined crushing the bottle of wine into Shego’s skull, the crack of glass, the dark mix of red wine and blood. She set the bottle on the desk between them, and Shego pulled it a little closer, studying the label. Then she looked up at Kim. “What am I going to do with you, Kimmie?”
“I don’t know. What are you going to do with me?” The weight of the gun was heavy at her side. Director had been very clear; something was happening this weekend, something major, and Shego couldn’t get in the way. And Kim had assured her that she would handle it.
The woman in front of her was undeniably evil, and it should have been easy to kill her. Kim shouldn’t have hesitated. Guilt shouldn’t have coiled heavily in her stomach.
Shego walked around the desk, stopping in front of her, and some part of Kim — the part that recognized danger — wanted to step away. But Shego had no reason to suspect her, and there was a pull between them. Something undeniable and magnetic, something that forced her to stay.
Shego leaned against her desk, close enough to touch, and Kim knew a hundred different ways to kill her, just like this. But she still didn’t move.
“What am I going to do with you?” Shego mused. Her gaze travelled across Kim’s face, pausing for just a moment at her lips. Then over the rest of her body, careful and calculated. And Kim just waited.
Then, without any warning, Shego crashed their lips together. Kim gasped, her hands automatically curling in Shego’s shirt, and she’d been waiting for this. Maybe, she thought hazily, this was why she’d hesitated. Maybe she’d needed to feel this, just once — the burning heat of Shego’s mouth, the tight grip on her jaw, the taste of coffee and the smell of jasmine. It was intoxicating.
And then it was over, ending just as suddenly as it had started. Shego pushed her away, and a chill ran down Kim’s spine. Because Shego was holding her gun. Pointing it at her, just three feet away. Casually, like she had all the time in the world, she flicked the safety off.
“Kim Possible,” she said slowly, almost amused. “I think we should have a little chat.”
Kim breathed in slowly. Shego was studying her closely, waiting for a reaction, so Kim kept her face perfectly blank. Pretending that the past thirty seconds — Shego’s kiss and the click of the safety and her real name on her mark’s lips — hadn’t left her reeling.
And then the reality sank in. If Shego knew her name, she could find her parents. Her brothers. Her friends. Shego was cruel and vindictive, and she hated liars. Everyone Kim loved was as good as dead.
She’d thought that Shego only had power over Kim Jefferson, but Kim Possible was a thousand times more vulnerable. Because Kim Jefferson didn’t have anyone to lose. Her breath shook as she exhaled, just a bit, and the corner of Shego’s mouth twitched. “Okay,” Kim said. “Let’s chat.”
Shego sat behind her desk, and gestured for Kim to take a seat. Kim heard a lock turn, then a quiet thud as Shego placed her gun in a drawer, and the click of the lock slotting back into place.
Shit.
Kim wasn’t concerned about the gun — she was far from defenseless, and she still had a knife strapped to her thigh — but Shego had disarmed her much too easily. Physically and emotionally.
And how the fuck did Shego know her last name?
“What do you want, Shego?”
“To talk.” Shego took out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, and poured the drinks with easy, too-familiar motions. Maybe, if they’d been a little less familiar — if Kim hadn’t spent so long staring at Shego’s fingers and the way they curled around the bottle — her mission would’ve ended weeks ago. Maybe she wouldn’t have been here now.
“You know, Kimmie, I expected better.” Kim watched her carefully, waiting. Shego tsked. “GJ’s top agent, falling her mark? Disappointing.” Kim wanted to insist that she would never fall for a mark — would never fall into that cliché, would never fall for Shego — but there was that pull. Intense and undeniable and impossible to ignore. She’d never been so drawn to another person.
Shego slid one glass across the desk, and it stopped precisely in front of her. Showing off, and Kim couldn’t help but be impressed. “I don’t drink on the job.”
Shego raised an eyebrow. “It’s never stopped you before.” Her gaze turned calculating. “But you weren’t Kim Possible before, were you?”
“I’m always Kim Possible.”
“But now you have to act like it.” God, she hated how easily Shego read her. Until now, she’d been playing a part, and in that part, she could do anything. She could drink. She could flirt with Shego. She could tease her. And none of it had been real.
This was real. Shego wasn’t talking to Kim Jefferson anymore; she was talking to Kim Possible, an agent of Global Justice. An assassin who’d been tasked with her murder.
“When are you supposed to kill me?”
“By the end of the week.”
“Just like that?” Kim took a sip of her drink; she didn’t have an explanation. At least, not one that she could share. “And tell me, Kimmie, when are you planning on killing me?”
“By the end of the week,” she lied. And she hadn’t been sure until now, but it was a lie. She wasn’t going to kill Shego. She wanted more than just a kiss.
Shego leaned back in her chair. “Just to clear the air, you’ve been spying on me and feeding information to Betty for weeks, and you want to kill me by the end of Friday?”
“Betty?”
“Director.”
“Her first name is Betty?”
“And her twin brother is Sheldon. He runs WEE. But we’re getting a little off topic here.”
Kim frowned, turning everything over in her head. Then she sighed and swallowed half her drink at once. Shego raised an eyebrow. “There’s nothing happening this weekend, is there?”
“There is. Just not what Betty’s expecting.”
“Are you going to let me tell her?” Kim immediately regretted the question, because it wasn’t just a question; it was an admission. Shego could forbid her from talking. She’d taken the illusion of control and made it real.
Shego smirked. “I think you want me to say no.”
“She’ll want to know why I didn’t kill you.”
“You’re not killing me?” Shego asked lightly. The casual teasing didn’t fit this conversation, and it left Kim feeling unbalanced.
Shego was winning easily.
“I thought I’d made that clear.”
Shego leaned back again, studying her carefully. “Just ask, Kimmie.”
Of course. Of course Shego had seen through her again. It was infuriating. “My family.”
“That’s not a question.” Kim glared at her. “I’m not going after them.”
“Why?”
Shego raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to hurt them?”
“You’re not above it.”
“Smart girl.” Kim allowed her annoyance to flicker across her face. “Now that we’ve established that you’re the only one in danger…” She let the words linger for a moment, a promise and a threat. “Why the change of heart?”
“I don’t want to kill you.”
“And why is that?”
Shego knew. She knew, and she was playing with her, just because she could. Kim had acknowledged, out loud, that Shego was winning, and Shego was treating this like a game. She was toying with Kim, trying to make her say it, and Kim refused to give her that satisfaction.
“Why did you kiss me?”
Shego’s mouth twitched again. “I felt like it.”
“And is that a condition on my family’s safety?” Her back was on the ground before she’d finished the last word, torn from her chair and thrown against the floor. Shego crouched beside her, eyes blazing.
“What type of person do you think I am?” she hissed, every word a warning.
But Kim wasn’t afraid. “The type that takes whatever she wants and doesn’t care who gets hurt.”
Shego raised an eyebrow. “And you think I want you?” Fine. If Shego wanted to turn this into a game, Kim would play. She opened her mouth, but Shego beat her to it. “I know you want me, Princess, but that doesn’t mean it’s mutual.”
“It is.” She didn’t have a single doubt. “You’ve been dying to see me like this. The violence was just an added bonus.” And Shego laughed, the genuine laugh that Kim had started to fall for, and god, it made her feel.
“Violence can be negotiated.”
Kim sat up slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on Shego’s face. Shego gripped her chin, and her nails dug into Kim’s skin as she turned her head to the side. Shego’s gaze was unrelenting, tracing over every inch of her skin. Shego tilted her head in the opposite direction, and Kim wondered how those nails would feel on the rest of her body. She imagined Shego taking her apart right here, on her office floor, and an embarrassing, dizzying wave of heat washed over her.
Shego tilted her head until their eyes met. “Why don’t you want to kill me, Kim?”
“I don’t want you to die.”
“What do you want?”
Kim’s heart was racing. She’d used her body on missions before; it had made her uncomfortable, at first, but people were so much more trusting when they had her lipstick on their lips. Or her body between their sheets. But she was always, always in control, whether her marks knew it or not.
Shego had stolen that control. Kim was spiraling, and Shego knew it.
“Do you really need to hear it?” Her voice was a little shaky — a little weak — even though she was fighting to keep it steady.
Shego’s gaze was sharp. “I’m not a monster. But I’m not taking pity on you.”
“Good.” Shego’s eyes stayed fixed on hers, a silent demand. “I want you,” she admitted, firm and certain and defeated.
And reality came crashing in again. The truth of what she’d said, and the fact that Shego wanted her too, and every single consequence that she could face. Kim wanted this, but it had already gone too far; she was in too deep. She was putting her career on the line, just by letting Shego live, and she couldn’t stay. No matter how much she wanted it, she couldn’t get more involved.
“I want you,” she repeated, “but I can’t. Director will expect—”
“So let’s give her what she wants,” Shego interrupted, certain and steady.
“I’m not killing you, Shego.”
Shego ignored her. “I’ll stay out of the way this weekend, and you’ll come back here. And you’ll stay.” The offer was tempting, but it was just a fantasy. Director would find out, and she would come after her. She would hunt her down. Shego’s hand brushed against Kim’s cheek, deceptively gentle, utterly disarming. “I’ll protect you, Princess.”
With those four words, every thought in her head went silent.
“Why?”
“I like having you around. And I want you to work for me.”
“Why?”
“Is that the only word you know?”
“Fuck you.”
“Maybe if you behave.” Kim glared at her, but Shego didn’t flinch. “I know how your mind works. You’re smart. You’ll go far here.”
“You’re evil.” She said it like a fact. No anger, no accusation.
“Evil is relative. And I’ll treat you like a person, which is a hell of a lot more than Betty does.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
Shego’s gaze was piercing, and Kim knew exactly what she meant. Director saw her as an asset, something closer to a tool than an employee. Kim had come to accept it; this was just the industry she’d chosen. But Shego made it sound like there was another option — like she could be an asset and a person — and she couldn’t deny that it was appealing.
She stood up and walked to Shego’s desk and took a sip of her whiskey, warm and steadying. She heard Shego getting to her feet, almost silent, but she didn’t turn around. “What happens if I don’t want to work for you?”
“Look at me, Princess.” Kim turned around, meeting her eyes. “You’ll come back here anyway, and I’ll be selfish with you.” Fuck. Kim directed all her energy towards keeping her breathing steady. Her entire body was on fire. “But you’d get bored.”
“I’m sure you would keep me entertained,” she said evenly.
“Cute.” Shego walked towards her and took the whiskey out of her hand, taking a slow sip, never looking away. She set the glass down with a solid clink. There was less than a foot between them, and the closeness was dizzying. Kim could still feel Shego’s nails digging into her skin.
She let her fingers brush against the desk, and she watched Shego carefully, waiting for a reaction. And it was there, a split-second flicker from her face to her hand. That was all she needed. “I’ve been thinking about your desk a lot,” she said, bold and certain and completely unashamed.
“Anything in particular, Possible?” One last reminder that she was Kim Possible, not Kim Jefferson, and all of this was real.
“You keep it very clean.”
Shego raised an eyebrow. “You want to make it dirtier?”
God, yes. “Don’t you?”
“And the job?” Shego’s hands were already on Kim’s hips, turning her, pressing her backwards.
Kim pushed herself up onto the edge of the desk, and she let a smile dance across her lips. “Ask me again in an hour.”
Shego stepped between her legs and leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “I’ll take that as a yes.” And she dragged Kim closer and kissed her.