#( he will anticipate all kinds of trouble >) eheheh )

[xmenageriie]

[Marianne @ Danse] “I’m thinking of hosting a Halloween party this year.”

— halloween & autumn / @bucketfullofocs

“You are?” Danse didn’t hide his surprise, but neither did he voice any doubts he might have — mostly because he didn’t have them to begin with. A year or so ago, he would have scolded her for wanting to waste time and supplies. Holidays had been pointless, even when the Brotherhood allowed for light celebration. He had never partook in Halloween despite the allure of sweets, always remaining responsible for those that were too sick on candies or drunk on booze to be responsible for themselves.

He had no reason to be responsible now. Maybe, for the first time in a long while, he could relax and let the spirit of the holiday take him.

“Some of the younger recruits used to throw little parties during Halloween, but I never joined in. I’m not sure I’ll be of any use or fun.” He raised both eyebrows at her, not appearing the least bit dissuaded. “Why do I have a feeling your parties are more extravagant?”

[happyandticklish]

Not Just An Annoyance

Notes: For the ask by @ticklish-sidekick. Based somewhere between the Titan’s Curse and The Battle of the Labrynth. As someone who was once the younger kid with the stupidly obvious crush on their older peers, I related a lot to Nico throughout the series. I hope you enjoy my sweet emo child as he receives all the tickles he deserves! :)

Summary: Nico keeps annoying Percy to get him to tickle him, and Percy is oblivious as per usual.

“What’s that?”

Percy jumped near out of his skin at the sudden presence of the other boy peering over his shoulder, banging his knee into the cafeteria table. There was something about the way Nico moved that made him slightly uneasy, like he was sliding out of the shadows. He glanced down at the sword Nico had asked about, which mere moments before had been a pen; Percy had wanted to polish it while everyone else was out at activities.

Evidently, not everyone.

“Uh, it’s my sword,” Percy answered, holding it up for him to examine. “Riptide, technically. Haven’t you seen it before, in battle?”

Nico’s eyes widened at the sight. Before Percy could do anything the boy had snatched it out of his hands, running his fingers over the blunt side of the blade. “Yeah, I mean, a couple times. I’ve never seen it up close though. How come it has a name? How does it turn from a pen into a sword? Do you actually know how to fight with this? Could I try?”

The questions buzzed around Percy’s head, whizzing too fast for him to concentrate on one. He decided to focus on the last one, as he figured that was the most prominent one. “Absolutely not. You’ll get yourself killed.”

He held out his hand for the sword, but Nico was already swinging the sword down in a wide arc, flushing in excitement as it whooshed through the air. “Awesome.”

“Nico, c’mon, give me my sword back.” Percy stood up, attempting to wrestle the hilt of the sword away from him. Nico was small and squirrely however, and easily evaded his grasp, clumsily slashing at empty air several more times. “That’s not safe, you know. And your technique is all wrong.”

“Then teach me the right way,” Nico responded brazenly, completely oblivious to Percy’s growing annoyance.

Percy narrowed his eyes at the insolence. He knew the kid didn’t mean to get in his way, but that didn’t stop him from making endless troubles for Percy. He thought back to Manhattan, and all the times he had acted up in similar manners. He remembered a certain technique his mom had used on him in those circumstances, and he figured they would surely be just as effective now.

While Nico was distracted attempting to heft Riptide into a natural thrust, Percy managed to sneak up behind him and place both hands on his sides. Nico froze, his entire face going red though Percy of course couldn’t see that.

“Give me the sword Nico,” Percy demanded. “Or else.”

Nico stiffened, trying to act brave through his apprehensive confusion. “No. I’m still using it.”

“Okay,” Percy said, shrugging as if to say the matter was taken out of his hands. “You asked for it.”

The last thing Nico expected was for two pairs of fingers to dig suddenly into his sides as Percy enacted his tried and true method. Nico jumped, bursting into uncontrollable giggles as he squirmed in his hands.

“N-Nohohoho!” Nico protested, attempting to wriggle out of his grip but finding that Percy’s strength vastly outmatched his own. “Ahahaha, Nahahat fahahahair!”

“Are you gonna give me the sword?” Percy asked, knowing that technically speaking Nico’s grip was weak enough on the weapon by now that he could grab it himself if he wanted. He decided it was more fun this way, however. “Hmm? What’s that? Are you at a loss for words?”

That’s a first.

“Stahahahap!” Nico screeched, dropping the sword finally and attempting to pry away Percy’s hands. “Ehehehe, pffft, nohohoho mohohore!”

“Are you gonna leave me alone?”

“Yehehehes!”

“And quit asking so many questions?”

“Yehehehes, yehehes!”

Finally Percy backed off and Nico collasped to the ground, wrapping his arms protectively around his middle. Percy calmly retrieved his sword while the other glared at him. “Tickling is not fair.”

“It’s called strategy,” Percy informed him, bumping him affectionately with his foot as he walked by. “See, you did learn something.”

Nico watched as Percy capped his sword, the weapon instantly shrinking down into a pen that he pocketed before walking off to go find the others. His skin still tingled anxiously as phantom tickles ran up and down his sides. He slowly clambered to his feet, trying to shake off the leftover embarrassment from acting so childish in front of someone as cool as Percy. Crumpling into a ball of giggles in front of your hero certainly didn’t help when you were trying to look tough.

But there was something about the way Percy had smirked when he had grabbed his sides, the teasing lilt to his voice, that awoke strange, fluttery excitement in the pit of his stomach. Percy was normally so dismissive of him, treating him as some annoying younger brother; it was nice having all that attention focused on him for a change.

So for the next couple weeks, Nico found himself doing everything in his power to provoke Percy into another “attack”. And, as most would say about him if asked, Nico could be very persistent when he wanted to be.

“Nico!” Percy spluttered, resurfacing after the other had shoved him quite suddenly and unexpectedly into the lake. “What the hell?”

Nico shrugged, flashing him an impish grin. “I wanted to see if the Son of Poseidon could swim better than normal people. I guess I was wrong though, because you seem to be struggling quite a lot.”

“Because you shoved me—” Percy exclaimed, before cutting himself off with an irritated smirk. “Alright then. But you only have yourself to blame for what happens next.”

“What do you mean—wah!”

Nico yelped in surprise as Percy’s hand shot out of the water suddenly, grabbing his ankle and jerking him into the lake with him. He landed with a splash next to Percy, waves cascading out around him. He came to the surface with an indignant gasp, and barely had time to get his breath back before Percy had pulled him into his arms, fingers wiggling into his now soaked shirt.

Nico shrieked, instantly squirming and attempting to evade his grasp, but Percy’s grip on him was too strong. “Ah, wahahait, nohoho, Pehehercy!”

“This is what happens when you mess with the great Percy Jackson,” the other triumphed, squeezing his sides rapidly and prompting a flood of embarrassing squeaks and giggles from Nico.

“Ihihihit wahahahas juhuhust ahahaha prahahahank!” Nico protested, throwing his head back with a wild grin and kicking his legs out violently in the water. “Thihihihis ihihihisn’t fahahahahair!”

“It’s perfectly fair,” Percy argued. “This is revenge, plain and simple. I wonder what would happen if I just…” He grabbed both of Nico arms, holding them above his head with one hand. With the other, he started rapidly spidering fingers in his left armpit. Nico promptly freaked out, writhing and bucking like crazy as the unbearable sensations took over. It was a credit to Percy’s superior abilities as a swimmer that he was able to keep both of them afloat through the process.

Nico got truly desperate when the touches changed from light fluttering into intense drilling, directly in the spot where his armpits met his ribs. “Nahahahaha, stahahahahap, stahahahahap, ohoho myhyhy g-gohohods!”

“Alright, alright.” Percy let go, whereupon Nico’s arms hastily clamped to his sides, and paddled their way back over to the dock. Nico gratefully pulled himself up and collapsed on the wooden platform, freezing cold and giggling.

“That was mean,” he accused, throwing an arm over his face to hide his growing blush.

Percy pulled himself up besides him, playfully poking him in the side to hear him yelp and scramble away. “Hey, sometimes you gotta be mean to teach someone a lesson. Besides, you’re too easy. I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as ticklish as you are—it’s kind of adorable.”

Nico opened his mouth and closed it, attempting to somehow stammer out a response to that. Before he could, Percy had shot to his feet and was off again, presumably to go dry off. Nico flushed violently and, after a moment of hesitation, followed in suit, the slight breeze combined with his dripping wet clothes causing goosebumps to scatter up his arms.

Nico failed to get any sleep that night, as Percy’s words echoed over and over again in his head until he eventually buried his face into his pillow in delighted embarrassment.

The provocation only continued as time went on. Nico sprinted frantically across the camp grounds one late afternoon, dipping in-between confused campers who stared after him quizzically. In one of his hands he clutched a simple necklace—a necklace which happened to belong to one Percy Jackson, furiously in chase behind him. Already, helpless laughter spilled from the young boy’s lips as the anticipation of the chase caught up with him.

“Nico!” Percy yelled after him, hastily apologizing to campers as he bumped and stumbled into them. “That’s important, give it back!”

“Make me!”

Evocative words, a tease Nico knew the other couldn’t resist. Sure enough, Percy soon caught up to him, and instead of grabbing him he skipped straight to digging hands into his sides as the two rolled over on the grass. Laughter spilled already from Nico’s lips as electric shocks coursed up and down his body from the sensations. Percy quickly forgot about the necklace, as he did most of the stolen objects in these games they played, and simply went about wrecking the boy, wiggling fingers into every ticklish crevice on his body until Nico was squealing and begging for him to stop.

Only once Nico had truly reached his limit did Percy back off, letting the other breathe as he collapsed on the ground. Percy retrieved his necklace easily, as it had fallen from the other’s hands quite a while ago. Nico rolled over on his sides, leftover giggles wracking his shaking frame.

“Don’t take my stuff,” Percy warned him, trying to sound angry though most of the anger was stripped from his voice as he beheld the happy boy before him. “I mean it this time.”

Nico nodded frantically, but deep down knew this wouldn’t be the last time.

Weeks went by before either of them said something about it. It was a colder night, one of those midsummer evenings where one could feel the hints of autumn creeping in, and thus Percy sat huddled by the fire, his eyes closed as he absorbed the heat gratefully. There were a couple others milling in and around the fire pit, most either in their cabin or engaged in late-night conversation with friends and lovers. Nico hesitated before approaching him, worried for the first time in quite a while about being a bother. Normally he wouldn’t care as it usually resulted in Percy tickling the ever-loving shit out of him, but he was always worried that he might be going too far and that one day Percy was just going to snap at him in anger.

Not to mention, he looked so peaceful with his head tilted back, eyes closed and wind gently tousling his hair. Nico flushed, pushing the invading thoughts aside. He was well aware of the hopelessness of his crush, but that didn’t stop it from encroaching at the worst times.

“Hey,” he said, lowering himself to the ground and crossing his legs besides Percy. The other startled at his presence, whipping his head around to face him. “Nice night, huh?”

“Yeah,” Percy replied warily. He waited for a moment, clearly expecting something from the other. When Nico did nothing, he relaxed slightly, allowing himself to face the fire again.

“Hey,” he said hesitantly after a couple seconds of silence had gone by, an awkward note to his voice. “I just wanted to say sorry. For, you know, torturing you for the past month. It’s just… I don’t know, I guess I’m just not that used to dealing with kids, and I went a little overboard with you. I know you don’t mean to be annoying, or anything—”

“I do,” Nico interrupted, surprising both himself and Percy. He hadn’t meant to say the words—they had slipped out without his permission. “Mean to be annoying, that is. It’s… uh, on purpose.”

“Oh,” Percy said, frowning a little. “Why?”

Nico shrugged, picking at his fingernails and avoiding the other’s gaze. “Dunno. I guess it just… it felt nice to have your attention, you know? You usually treat me like a pest, or some minor annoyance you don’t want to put up with. I guess it was kind of fun having you hang out with me.”

“Fun?” Percy repeated incredulously. “But I was always so mean to you! I mean, what, do you like being tickled out of your wits all the time?”

Nico blushed furiously, staring intensely at the ground and not responding. It took a moment for the realization to hit Percy. “You do like being tickled? Wait—is that why you’ve been bothering me all this time? So I would tickle you?”

Nico grunted noncommittally.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Percy exclaimed, knocking his shoulder against the other affectionately. “I would have just tickled you, if you had told me that was something you wanted. You didn’t have to force me into it—in fact, I think I would much rather you ask as opposed to just stealing my stuff all the time and shoving me into lakes.”

Nico whipped his head up to stare at him for the first time throughout their entire conversation, his eyes wide. “You don’t think it’s weird?”

“I mean, I don’t personally understand it,” Percy admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I think I would die if anyone tickled me as much as I’ve been doing to you all the time. But if it’s what makes you happy, then it makes me happy. You’re my friend Nico—not a pest or an annoyance. I care about you.”

Those words, such a simple thing for Percy to say, meant the world to the little boy staring up at him. He flushed, trying to figure out how to possibly respond without sounding like a lovestruck dork about it. “Thank you,” he muttered, before kicking a foot out and digging it into the other’s side. “Idiot.”

Before he knew what was happening, however, Percy had latched onto his leg, locking an arm around his ankle and thus securing his foot in place. Nico swallowed nervously as Percy removed first his shoes than his sock, the cold air blowing preemptively against his now bare foot. Nico’s toes curled in anticipation at Percy’s growing smirk.

“Oh Nico,” he said, clucking his tongue regretfully. “You shouldn’t have done that. Especially after you just admitted that you like to be tickled, well… I mean, it’s really your fault what happens next here.”

Nico grinned, ducking his chin into his chest in embarrassment. “I hate you.”

Percy matched his grin with his own and Nico’s heart fluttered traitorously in his chest. “Of course you do.”

The camp soon rung with the sounds of Nico’s crazed giggles, leaving many a camper to stop and stare at the sight of what looked like the famous Percy Jackson tickling the shit out of the new upstart Nico di Angelo. That wasn’t the last time they witnessed such a sight either, and in the end, Nico found he couldn’t be happier with the way things had turned out.

[split-n-splice]

A totally-not-a-date chapter. Next and final chapter is...eheheh...explosive.

[Chapter Guide | Ao3 | FFn ]

Chapter 5 - Dodgy

If someone had told her yesterday that she’d be having fun in a day’s time, she might have laughed in their face. Fun just wasn’t something she had much of these days.

Given the establishment served booze in abundance and she was regrettably under the legal drinking age, Shego had to find her own unconventional way in. The risk was frivolous and made her a touch uneasy, but she was proud of herself nonetheless once she was inside where she turned her focus to searching for Dr. Drakken and his goons.

The casino was like some kind of adult’s Pizza Party-Torium, if the arcade was populated by slot machines and the playground was swapped for table games and a dazzling fountain. The joint was crowded and noisy, and with a funk in the air that made her nose scrunch just as it did at JP Bearymore’s.

Before second thoughts could undermine her resolve, Dr. Drakken had reappeared by her side to tow her by an elbow to where his crew had gathered.

The henchmen were found squandering resources on hypnotic slot machines. Without their jumpsuits, Shego wouldn’t have recognized the trio blending in among the guests. They greeted Dr. Drakken with warm regard despite his withering scowl, and the goons flashed impish smirks when they noticed Shego tagging along to his right.

She wouldn’t exactly call the blue man and his grunts friends, but she grew to enjoy the company of her unscrupulous new acquaintances over the evening. It was in the midst of the bunch that she concluded that for the first time in months, maybe all year, she was having fun – and she wasn’t even obligated to.

Though Shego was too reluctant to openly admit it, it might as well have been written on her face. Once she relaxed and rolled with it, visiting the casino turned out to be a blast.

What little she had on hand had her apprehensive at first to actually put her money where her mouth was, and she tried not to come off nearly as surprised as the goons when she fared better than them. From there, they egged her on – bad influences, the whole lot of them – but she enjoyed the attention when they gave it. Encouragement, cheers, and sore-loser boos from the crew, along with the nice sum of cash stuffed into the utility pouch hidden beneath a pant leg, made the mischievous evening worth gambling with her safety on the rogue doctor. She’d won some and lost some, but she still came out ahead with surprisingly more than she could earn from a whole week of babysitting.

As they were leaving the casino for the evening, crossing the packed parking lot, she almost wondered aloud why she’d never gone to one before. Then she remembered about the whole deal with the age restriction and ID check, not to mention the victimless crime was such a moral grey area that the head of Team Go would rag on her hard if he ever found out. Suddenly opposing him made gambling all the more appealing. It may just be her downfall that there were more thrilling things than money she was betting with.

No sooner had her bossy big brother invaded her thoughts did an arm land heavily around her shoulders, making her forget all about him. Shego would have shoved the tipsy man away if she weren’t in such an amicable mood herself for a change, and she even tried to glare up at Dr. Drakken, but his big crooked smile as he bantered with his goons made her forget to frown.

Whatever trouble she was getting herself into, at least she was enjoying it in the moment. Betting on the strange doctor might not be so bad.

A hoot from one of the henchmen was enough to pull her attention off the blue man beside her. “I like this one, boss!” shouted the drunken goon as he stumbled ungracefully backwards towards the getaway car. “Can we keep her?”

If she weren’t in public, she might have sent a fireball at his heels to remind him she wasn’t their new pet. She almost did anyway – because screw secret identities.

There was a low chuckle from the man beside her then. “I sure hope so,” Dr. Drakken muttered contentedly, and Shego wasn’t sure if he was too buzzed to realize he wasn’t speaking loud enough for the henchman, if he was addressing her alone, or if he was just thinking out loud.

He cleared his throat suddenly and let go, perhaps finally realizing that he’d hung on for too long or that putting an arm around the dangerous young lady in the first place was trying his luck by crossing a line. Either way, Shego took the chance to sidestep to put some much-needed space between them.

“Anyhoozeydoozey, there’s karaoke tonight at the restaurant across from the lodge,” he announced, making a peculiar attempt to entice her as he battled the grin off his face. “Why don’t you come to dinner with us? My treat.”

It was late enough to be thinking of dinner?

Shego looked up, discovering to her dismay that the sky was slipping into twilight. Street lights were already on. She bit her lip to stifle a curse and force back a twinge of guilt for not meeting the boys when she should have. But it was too late now. Way too late. Bedtime too late.

She was already doomed to be lectured later for putting off her responsibilities. So, reluctant to go home once again, she gave Dr. Drakken a nonchalant shrug. “I could eat.” She was famished anyway.

“Splendid. Now – who’s the designated driver again?” he called out dumbly to his bumbling henchmen as they all gathered around the rig. He grunted his dissatisfaction when they glanced between each other, offering him no answer.

Of course all four of the men had indulged, unwittingly drinking themselves a bit silly, though the henchmen silliest of all. Shego meanwhile had been too preoccupied and cautious to join in, not to mention under-aged. Thankfully the chief was aware enough of the fact that he himself may be just a touch too tipsy to get behind a wheel.

So Shego rolled her eyes and held out her hand for the keys. Dr. Drakken studied her open palm for a moment before shrugging and tossing them at her.

As the driver for the evening, she announced she had reign over the radio. Before anyone could even think of singing along to the Top 40’s, one of the henchmen pleaded loudly, “Save the singing for the microphone!” To which she responded with a small blast of lukewarm plasma, shot over her shoulder at him to give him a mild zap.

Maybe being stuck in a car full of intoxicated criminals should have had her ill at ease, but she was remarkably comfortable with it. After the fiery warning, they remembered uphold a healthy respect. Given she’d already put three in their place yesterday, there was really only one she felt any need to worry about anyway. Which – as long as he didn’t brandish a gun again – she was certain she could handle him if he came to be a problem.

The restaurant was certainly no quieter than the ride had been, but there at least she excused the clamor as it wasn’t directly in her ears. The joint was busy and a tad rambunctious, but a table for five was found near a stage that had the rogue doctor twisted in his seat to fixate on.

Burgers were ordered and there was a round of beer that completely missed Shego, but she didn’t mind being left out as the youngest of the henchmen, somewhat of a runt, was seated conveniently next to her and didn’t mind letting her sneak a sip when curiosity got to be too much. She decided to stick to her soft drink after all.

Karaoke made it hard to eat when her focus was continually drawn up to the stage, and she had to wonder what sick satisfaction the grinning Dr. Drakken found in watching it unfold. Some performances were dares and others were premeditated, but just watching strangers go up on the small stage to sing their hearts out made Shego cringe inwardly with secondhand embarrassment.

When a pair of henchmen went up eagerly for a duet, Shego was inclined to duck her head, borderline ashamed to be associated with them. She leaned over to the goon beside her, whose name she hadn’t yet caught, and wryly wondered if they were lovers or brothers. Not that it mattered to her either way, but he confirmed them to be siblings goofing off.

All but physically booting his men from it, Dr. Drakken was keen to take the stage next and that was somehow even worse. Inhibitions lax from alcohol, the blue man was enthralled for his turn in the limelight, whereas Shego was undeniably mortified to be seen in his company now that the tipsy imbecile was swaying on the platform, his jacket tied around his waist and dress shirt having come untucked. His face was flushed an odd shade of purple and he beamed from ear to ear.

As per his request – or rather, command – his henchmen took the music choice into their own hands to surprise him.

When the tune began, Shego found it too hard to nibble uncomfortably at her fries anymore. She heaved an apathetic sigh before hiding her face in her arms on the table instead, anticipating the worse case of second-hand embarrassment yet. She couldn’t watch him crash and burn. She even considered walking out to spare herself, but a gross curiosity kept her anchored.

The henchman beside her elbowed her gently, snickering, “You’d be surprised. The boss ain’t that bad.”

Shego shook her head in her arms. There was no way some dopey mullet-head could pull off We Didn’t Start The Fire. She straight up refused to believe it.

But then he began reciting lines in time with grainy filtered audio, without a stutter or slur. She was staring incredulously up at him by DiMaggio. The brazen doctor threw himself into it with humiliating vigor, doing a little jig on the spot to top it off. She was torn between watching the grinning fool and looking for whatever monitor was feeding him the lines, further bewildered to realize he must have been belting it out rapid-fire from memory as he didn’t spare a single glance to the aid. If he slipped up, she didn’t notice.

Realizing the restaurant had fallen otherwise quiet – cripes, people were listening to him – she felt a new wave of discontent. She didn’t notice she was gawping until the henchman beside her lifted her chin to shut mouth, and he was brusquely shoved out of his chair in turn. She wasn’t sure what to make of the blue man before, and she was even more unsure now.

“How?” she hissed to the henchman climbing back into his seat next to her.

The goon shrugged and answered as if it were obvious, “He’s a mad genius.”

“But is he human?” She recalled being asked earlier if she was human, so maybe…maybe he wasn’t. It was something to ponder. She didn’t have long to entertain the ridiculous notion.

A henchman now seated on her other side spoke up. “We wonder that too sometimes,” he admitted in a chuckle.

As the song came to an end, Dr. Drakken’s hazy stare fell painfully obviously on her. She was still frozen in place when it was over, little doubt in her mind he was something special, but what remained to be seen. The doctor only glanced away for a moment to acknowledge the applause he received, and then beckoned her forward with a finger and a smirk that grew into a devilish grin.

She didn’t have a chance to dismiss the summons.

Suddenly she was being hoisted off her feet by the henchmen on either side of her and deposited on the stage.

“You’re up, missy,” Dr. Drakken cooed, chuckling deviously as he gestured her toward the spotlight.

Eyes flying wide, she planted her feet to resist, but the henchmen’s hands were at her back, pushing her toward their freak ringleader. “No – I don’t – I don’t sing,” she hissed in protest.

“Balderdash. Everyone participates on karaoke night,” he insisted, a little too inebriated at present to realize he was pushing his luck.

Shego strained to control herself, grinding out, “Not me. Watching you guys is enough participation.”

His guiding arm behind the back turned into a hold around the waist to keep her from evading the dreaded spotlight. If he hadn’t crossed a line before at the casino by leaning on her for support, then he sure as hell was now. “Oh, we can find something for you,” he assured, almost pleading. “Don’t be a pill.”

The spell was broken. Shego wasn’t charmed anymore.

Dr. Drakken was something alright – he might be a lot of things – and right now one of those things was a jackass.

Without a second thought, she elbowed him hard in the stomach. “I said no!” she spat as the winded man doubled over, and she made a hasty getaway before his goons could dive for her.

Once outside, Shilo broke into a run.

Only a couple blocks away, she slowed to a stomp, until finally she threw herself down on the curb to let the cool night air sap the rest of the flustered heat from her face. She ran her fingers through her unkempt hair, breathing deep, and picked out some tangles as she glared ahead at the quivering leaves of the trees across the street.

Skipping town with the strange doctor didn’t sound quite so appealing now. She didn’t exist for anyone’s entertainment, and she shuddered to think of what else might be expected of her. Boundaries would definitely need to be set, and if he couldn’t accept her terms, then she’d just have to bust him, because she wasn’t to be toyed with.

At this very moment though, she wasn’t sure what trouble she’d just gotten herself into by acting out against the man. If he was really a seriously bad guy like he claimed, then she couldn’t put it past him to do something brash and terrible and villainous.

Shilo hugged her knees and contemplated which direction was home. She still wasn’t looking forward to seeing her family tonight, but she’d just have to accept that as the inevitable. At least there, she could rest easy with the knowledge they wouldn’t murder her for noncompliance, or enact vengeance in some way, or do anything else purposefully harmful.

She sighed heavily and picked herself up, arms wrapped around herself as she weighed her options – assuming there was ever an option to begin with.

If striking the man was a deal-breaker, then she didn’t need to serve under someone who expected her not to fight back, especially if fighting was in her job description. She hoped that wasn’t the case. Back home, she would only continue to be restricted and heavily burdened and kept on a short leash – probably even shorter than ever, should they catch wind of her recent transgressions. If Dr. Drakken’s promises turned out empty, she could always go home to make amends. A little rebellious stint wouldn’t hurt.

Apologies tasted terrible, but somehow the other option was even less savory.

She wasn’t ready to go home tonight, but she wasn’t ready to accept any deals either. Shilo’s feet were heavy as she carried herself back to the diner anyway. She decided going back inside would be pushing her threshold for humiliation, so she found herself a place to wait: the passenger seat of the SUV. She couldn’t be sure if she was relieved to find it unlocked or not.

Amidst the monotony of waiting, the last thing she wanted was for fatigue to catch up to her, but that was a losing battle. She found it hard to fight to stay awake, watching the passenger mirror for Dr. Drakken or the goons to come stumbling out, but her heavy eyelids slipped shut and she was out for the count before she knew what hit her.

Next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake. She blinked blearily at the dash and stifled a yawn.

“Sheesh, you’re a lightweight,” came a voice from the darkness nearby that was becoming too familiar too quickly. He barked laughter. “Half a beer and you black out!”

Her reply was almost automatic. “It was only a sip,” she grumbled, as if that helped her case.

She blinked away the fog as she got her bearings, and she came to the rapid realization of exactly where she was – and who was next to her – and it came back to her like a blow to her own stomach just what she’d done do him earlier. As of yet there seemed to be no consequence, but she was too on edge by other factors to be relieved, let alone care she wasn’t dead yet.

“Dude!” she hissed in alarm, involuntarily ducking to hide. The windows were tinted, it was dark, and there was no one in sight – but that didn’t alleviate her distress. “You can’t just be showing up in front of my house like this! Are you trying to get me in trouble?” she complained. Maybe this was it – how he got his payback – by getting her grounded – nevermind that she was nineteen. That was underhanded.

Dr. Drakken scoffed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were a rebel. Was I mistaken?” he wondered wryly, taking a moment of smug satisfaction at her panic. “Just say the word, and you can forget all about curfews and being put in the corner,” he reminded. She was silent, but she wasn’t going anywhere yet. “Well, Shego? Are you ready? I can keep driving.”

“This again?” she retorted in exasperation, snapping her glare back at him.

“Yes, ‘this again.’” The lights of the dash glinted off his spectacles but the knit of his brow gave away the impatient scowl he fixed her in.

Shego groaned and rubbed her eyes. She was distantly relieved he didn’t seem to be too mad at her for earlier, but the relief left her quickly. “Not yet,” she said, turning her miserable gaze upon her dark home. The only light on was the porch light. The illuminated clock on the car radio told her it was half past midnight, which wasn’t as late as last night, but it was late enough. She hoped everyone was asleep this time since no one was storming out to confront her yet.

She unwillingly popped open the door, watching for lights to flick on in the house and feeling more reluctant than ever to go inside. She couldn’t shake the instilled dread of what was awaiting her. More of the same-ol’ same-ol’ drudgery and bullshit rules and smothering. So even when she slipped out, déjà vu crossed her mind as she once again debated on jumping right back in vehicle.

She turned to face the driver, giving herself another moment to act on a whim and never look back.

“I can’t hang around forever,” Dr. Drakken warned as she hesitated there. “Through the weekend at the most, but then I’m out of here. So make up your mind soon.”

Arms crossing, Shego cocked her hip and raised her brow at him. Given the pressure, she wasn’t so sure if she wanted to give him the satisfaction of getting back in his rig now. It was technically only Friday now, so she still had a few days if he’d just be patient. “You got what you came to Go City for, so why stay?” she wondered. “You’re starting to look desperate.”

Dr. Drakken looked her over with an analytical stare. She swore she saw him grimace in the dim blue glow of the dash.

He gnashed his teeth as if chewing on his words before grunting. “So I have a new objective!” he spat out, almost defensively so. His mask was cracking and something less than confident was showing through. He was starting to blather. “I have a good feeling about you, and I can see how you’re not sure about me, but realize you can betray me just as easily as I you. You’re not the only one taking risks here.” His fingers drummed on the wheel.

Shego narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m the objective,” she gathered.

“Affirmative,” grumbled Dr. Drakken. She saw him swallow and frown deeper.

Acting on a whim, she didn’t give herself time to think twice. She should have known better. She climbed back into the rig, even though she knew she wasn’t leaving tonight, and she was kneeling in the passenger seat before she could consider how badly this could backfire or any consequences at all, but momentum alone wasn’t enough to carry her through it.

The startled driver jerked back when she grabbed for his jaw, and he made a noise of annoyance as she made the man face her. She had meant to seek affirmation some other way – affirmation he wasn’t a creep – affirmation she wasn’t the objective in some convoluted sleazy trick – but she didn’t even come close to so much as willing herself to land a chaste peck before she halted. She wasn’t sure what sort of reaction she’d expected, but the doctor was leaning away against the door, pushing her back to keep her at arm’s length with his palms at her shoulders. A grimace twisted his face. It served as a clear enough answer, but cold feet and a rebuff weren’t what gave her pause now.

He certainly hadn’t been expecting an advance, and he wasn’t expecting her to snatch his spectacles off his nose either. Shego she still gripped his jaw in one hand as she studied his face in the half-light.

“You’re familiar,” slipped out of her mouth as her attention was drawn to the scar beneath his eye.

“Funny. I don’t get that often,” he said coldly.

She still wasn’t sure what to make of him. Maybe she’d never know. Maybe she should let it be a mystery. For now, at least.

Dr. Drakken coughed into his fist. “I see we’ll have to discuss boundaries and appropriate conduct later,” he uttered tersely, a small quiver of unease in his voice as he carefully removed her clutch from his face. He plucked his glasses back from her fingers.

The sudden pang of rejection was uncalled for, and it almost incited her temper, but instead it fanned the heat of humiliation in her face.

Shego withdrew abruptly, cheeks hot and palms clammy as she awkwardly scrambled backwards out of the rig. She hoped she wasn’t blushing too noticeably, because the failed advance on the weird man definitely made up for not joining in for karaoke. There were worse outcomes, so she decided to count her blessings.

“Um…goodnight,” she muttered sheepishly in lieu of a farewell.

He nodded. “You too.”

Almost as soon as she’d shut the door, the engine revved and off into the night he went, leaving Shilo alone to her flustered thoughts on the curb.

She drew a deep breath to soothe herself, but it didn’t do much good. She might still have her family to face, but at least she was a little more sure now that the doctor’s motives might be sketchy, but at least they weren’t sleazy. He’d had his chances to take advantage of her or do any number of contemptible things if he’d wanted. It wasn’t much evidence, but it was enough for her to put a little faith in the man.

Whatever brand of evil he was selling was a little more appealing now.

A smile spread across Shilo’s face as a flicker of excitement lit in her and began to burn.

Even if the rogue doctor never amounted to more than a mediocre crook, he still offered her a way out, a way that went against everything she’d been obligated to defend for the past four years. Just the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to strike out alone was encouraging. Her talents, her cursed powers, were wanted , maybe even needed, for something bigger than local hero work now, and if he really had his weird little heart set on taking over the world, as she knew plenty of villains were – well, then, that was all the more challenge.

This could be fun.

That rebellious little fire was snuffed out to a dormant state the instant she recognized a telltale melodramatic throat clearing behind her. She didn’t mean to spin around quite so fast, hair whipping around her shoulders. Her startled gaze landed on Milo, who’d been hovering just behind her, and she glared harshly at him as she drew upon anger to override any embarrassment or surprise.

“How long have you been standing there?” she snapped urgently.

The eavesdropper scoffed and crossed his arms. “Long enough,” he sneered. “Tramp.”

Shilo raised her warm hand in threat, but he didn’t back down. “Have you forgotten what it feels like to be slapped by me already, or do you need a reminder?” Oh, how badly she longed to wipe the look off his face.

“Beat on me all you want, I’m still telling Dad about your secret boyfriend.” As if their father had any say in the matter.

She recoiled nonetheless and played it off. “Uh, ew? As if. The guy’s got a mullet,” she dismissed with an uneasy scoff. She shoved past him and tried to ignore the mocking kissy faces he made after her.

“Just wait until he finds out! He’s gonna love this,” her ropy brother jeered after her, bouncing at her heels as Shilo strode across the lawn to the porch.

She restrained another impulse to smack him, and considered a well-aimed kick below the belt might shut him up longer. If he pressed his luck any further, she just might. “My friends are none of Dad’s business,” she seethed quietly. What was the worse he could do at this point? Kick her out?

Milo dropped his voice as well as they neared the house. “Oh, yeah it is – you know the saying! His roof, his rules,” he said, and Shilo mouthed the mantra along with him with a roll of her eyes. Their father could be such a hard-ass at times, even Milo was whispering to avoid his wrath tonight.

“Well, Dad won’t have to worry about it for long,” she whispered back gravely. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

“About that—,” Milo piped, only to clam up suddenly.

Just then, Hugo stepped in front of her, taking up almost the entire doorway with his broad shoulders, barring her entry. He’d obviously been standing just inside, probably also eavesdropping as best he could from his hiding place. “You were serious?” he uttered, mouth agape and eyes huge. “You’re actually moving out? With that – that guy?” He gestured toward the road incredulously.

“Not just a guy – a man!” hissed Milo in a rising pitch. “At least as old as Dad! I think I saw grey hair.” He looked to Shilo then and shrank back in disgust, shuddering with a finger pointed down his throat even as he chuckled.

Her face was scorching hot and she had to clutch her fists lest they see her palms sparking. She was on the verge of losing her cool. “You are so far off, it’s not even funny,” she defended, though she knew she wasn’t convincing. “He’s only in his twenties.” Mid to late twenties, but they didn’t have to know that detail.

Her lavender sibling was still appalled. “And you smooched! Nasty!” he blurted. Interesting talk coming from a freshmen actively aiming for first base.

“Did not!” Shilo spat at him, and gave him a rough shove that almost knocked him down. This was worsening by the second, and she could do little more than hide behind a hand until her hulking brother cleared the doorway, which didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon.

“You what?” Hugo just about boomed for the whole neighborhood to hear. The overprotective head honcho of Team Go stepped onto the porch, pushing up a sleeve of his pajamas as his look of alarm gave way to a hostile glare. Shilo trying to push him back into the house was about as effective as trying to push over a tree of equal girth, which was to say impossible for the likes of her.

“Look, whatever you’re thinking, stop thinking it,” she demanded, almost pleaded.

“That’s a predator if I’ve ever seen one,” Milo retorted in exasperation, definitely not helping the situation.

“Come off it. There’s nothing going on,” she fibbed. “He’s cool. We just talked – about music and stuff.” Put on the spot, her lies were transparent.

“Whatever he’s promising you, don’t buy that baloney for a second,” warned Hugo, and she winced.

She was buying it and they knew it, even if they didn’t know what it was yet.

Her big brother took her by the shoulders to stand her upright and she strained to glare around him to the open door. “Shi, I would love nothing more than to support you even if I don’t always agree with your decisions, but be reasonable – you can’t move in with a stranger you just met and who we’ve never even met. It’s – it’s just not right,” he said, harsh tone faltering back to concern.

“I said that I’m moving out, not that moving in with him,” she spat, anger at his assumptions growing ever hotter. Even if they were probably spot-on.

Hugo shook his head but persisted. “I don’t like what’s going on. You’ve been out past midnight two nights in a row, and you even failed to show up for lessons with the twins. They were crying because you let them down.”

Shilo batted his big paws away and took a hasty step back. She didn’t like stab of guilt she felt, but she disliked head games even more.

At the sound of a familiar hum drawing closer and distant gleam of black, she felt a confidence boost. “You’ll just have to tutor them yourself, because I can’t take much more of you guys,” she snarled vehemently. “Have you ever stopped to consider I might be leaving because you’re such a control freak?”

The herculean man flinched back, sputtering objection, “I’m not trying to control you!” Typical thickheaded Hugo, he willingly forgot ever pressuring her into forming a superhero team to fulfill his own daydreams, or that he was in part to blame for sticking her with raising twins because it was such a woman’s job, to the point she’d been practically a stay-at-home mom since the age of fifteen. He seemed to forget as well that because of his secret-identity obsession, Shilo only had a small handful of acquaintances she might call friends, who she only got to see in school, none of which she’d hung out with since graduating, and it was his alliance with Global Justice that was to blame for the curfew and a buddy system she wasn’t the only one failing to abide by.

When Hugo reached out to grab her again, she took a hasty step back to dodge him. “We all have wants and desires,” he said coolly as if to pacify, but he was floundering, “but we need to put our commitments first. You didn’t even call to say you wouldn’t be coming. We were worried about you!”

His protests grew louder as she backed away down the steps. Creeping into view, she could see the familiar black vehicle’s cautious approach. Dr. Drakken had circled the block. Was it just to stalk her? She shook her head, deciding at this point, she didn’t care if he was. She’d rather be in the company of that stalker than here right now. He was a blessing in disguise.

“You’re telling me who I can and can’t see, what I can and can’t do, and what and when you want me to do things that should be your responsibility too. Sounds a little controlling to me!” Shilo spat up harshly at her brothers, namely Hugo. She turned on her heel to jump down the last two steps. “I’m done – consider me gone. Have a nice life.” Whether it was an empty threat or the real deal, she’d decide later, but the stunning effect bought her precious time.

Not daring to give her brothers a chance to stop her, to pull her back, she broke into a run, sprinting across the lawn before they could react or call out for her. She darted into the street, and Dr. Drakken had barely slammed on the breaks when she grabbed the door and threw herself inside.

When the young men on the porch recovered from their surprise and began to chase after her, Dr. Drakken burned rubber without exchanging a word or even a glance, only taking the hint to get them out of there lickety-split. He sped down the vacant neighborhood roads and only slowed once he met traffic, but her brothers were left in their dust.

“Why’d you come back?” Shego demanded coldly as they fell into line with the lazy stream of traffic. She leaned her head against the window, dismally staring out at the darkened storefronts.

“Well, it’s not because I missed you,” snorted Dr. Drakken. “I just thought maybe you could use a second chance tonight.” He cast a look over to her and grimaced, probably because she hadn’t picked up anything in the time he’d circled the block. He might as well have never dropped her off at all. All it did was stir up trouble. He stifled a groan. “But I see you’re not ready yet,” he noted. “Are you still unsure?”

“I’ll grab my stuff tomorrow when everyone’s gone,” Shego promptly answered. She rubbed her temple miserably, a headache beginning to rag at her. “I just need get away tonight. You can just drop me off anywhere. I’ll find somewhere to wait it out.”

Shego wouldn’t admit it, and she didn’t thank him, but she appreciated he didn’t take the suggestion.