Chapter Text
There were very few things Kim Possible wasn’t good at.
She was particularly skilled at being organized, in every aspect of the word. The pen pouch in her backpack was filled with an assortment of highlighters to color-coordinate her notes and calendar. Her schedule was planned down to the minute, and even on an empty day with no events she would somehow find a way to be productive.
This made her the most qualified to throw Shego a surprise party (which was suggested by everyone who understood the birthday girl well enough to know she would absolutely hate the idea of a celebration with her at the center).
The whole event was absolutely comical. Everyone had gathered at the old hideout house, which was decorated in silver and black streamers, banners, and balloons. It was just enough to perk up the space, and not too much that Shego would gag at the sweetness of it all. They waited quietly, holding their breath until Kim strolled in with Shego in tow.
Ron had almost ruined the entire thing, bursting into the first notes of the birthday song too early. But Wade clamped his hand over Ron’s mouth━almost too roughly that it nearly knocked Ron and a side table over. Everyone who saw this struggled to hold in their laughter, but luckily timing was on their side and they went straight into singing as Shego stepped into view.
She had certainly never experienced anything like this . Her birthdays were never something she outwardly celebrated, and her life was never stable enough to even have people to celebrate it with . But she peered towards the faces that smiled brightly at her; parents and siblings and friends all happy to be here━and then she turned to look at Kim.
She had stepped aside for Shego to have her moment, looking more excited than anyone else there. Shego loved the way her eyes were lit up, like wishing candles on a cake. She reached out and Kim took her hand.
“I cannot believe you threw me a surprise party,” Shego said, half rolling her eyes. “What am I, twelve years old?”
Kim laughed, and Shego softened at the sound.
“You may not feel like it, but you deserve to be celebrated,” Kim replied. She tugged on Shego’s sleeve and glanced at her, beaming. Shego had always thought she’d feel murderous at the sight of cliche birthday cake and balloons, but here and now, somewhere down in the depths of her core, she thought this was all … adorable .
The thought made her shiver with disgust, thinking to herself I can’t believe that just happened and again Kim laughed, knowing Shego all too well.
***
Once they had spent a full hectic week apart, separated by work, academic, and familial events that the other was not able to be present for, and the whole thing was unbearable.
The two fully believed they would be fine without each other, and that was true for the first (1.5) days. By day 3, Kim’s texts had doubled. By day 5, Shego got a blurry photo of Kim eating out along with the caption: Your spot is cold.
It was day 7, the week officially fulfilled.
The sound of the key in the lock made Shego perk up from the couch. She had been trying to distract herself from looking at Kim’s location, watching TV with a throw blanket twisted around her legs. As soon as the door opened, she was on her feet.
Kim stepped in, bumping her suitcase against the doorframe. She grinned as soon as Shego was in view. “Looks like someone missed me—”
Shego crossed the room, grabbed Kim by the waist, and pulled her into a kiss. Kim’s arms fell around Shego’s shoulders, her fingers settling into long dark locks.
“This is so dumb,” Shego murmured after pulling away, “A week isn’t even that long.”
“I know,” Kim replied, resting her forehead on Shego’s, “We’re ridiculous .”
They moved together through the apartment like magnets, Kim dropping her coat on a chair, Shego trailing after her close enough that their hands brushed constantly. In the kitchen, Shego stood at the stove while Kim perched on the counter, legs swinging, eyes fixed on her like she couldn’t look away.
“You know,” Kim said, voice more delicate now, “I thought I’d enjoy a little bit of space. But… I just kept thinking about you.”
Shego placed a lid on the pan and leaned between Kim’s knees, hands resting at her hips. “Yeah, same here. I was supposed to enjoy the quiet, right? Instead every time I made coffee, I kept setting out two cups by accident.”
That earned a smile from Kim, who tugged on Shego’s sleeves. “That’s kind of sweet.”
“Do not tell anyone,” Shego muttered, half serious and half-grinning.
Their eyes met as Shego returned to the stove, and for a moment, all the years of tension—their fights and rivalry, the fire that once kept them apart flashed between them. It was still there, but now it burned differently.
They lingered in the kitchen, cooking their dinner and cleaning up, talking about nothing in particular—how the instructors’ conferences went, and the honor ceremonies for high-achieving scholars, and the family parties where everyone was looking for the missing other, little details that filled their week.
But the subtext was clear in every touch, every glance, and every small kiss: I missed you. Don’t leave me that long again .
By the time they were brushing their teeth, it was obvious neither could stop hovering. Kim stood shoulder to shoulder with Shego at the sink, foam muffling their words as they continued their conversation.
When they finally climbed into bed, Kim immediately tucked herself against Shego’s chest, arms wound tightly around her waist.
“Kimmie. You’re holding on like I’m going to float away,” Shego teased faintly.
“You might,” Kim replied, “That damn week felt longer than it should have.”
The rain outside tapped quietly at the windows, the city hummed in the distance, and in their little cocoon of blankets, they tangled tighter. They refused to leave even an inch of space between them, which only seemed right.
***
The apartment was quiet except for the soft scratch of pen on paper.
Kim sat crouched over the kitchen table, textbooks and pages spread out in organized chaos, her laptop humming loudly beside her. A half-finished cup of coffee sat cold.
Shego leaned against the doorway quietly, arms folded, watching intently. He knew that look—eyes sharp, jaw tight, like Kim had disappeared into her own head and only allowed herself to exist within the scope of her schoolwork.
“Kimmie,” Shego drawled, “It’s past your bedtime.”
Kim didn’t look up. “Just a few more notes, then I’ll be done for the night.”
Shego crossed the room to carefully pluck the pen from Kim’s hand and kiss the top of her head. “You said that last time. Come on.”
Kim frowned but didn’t protest when Shego pulled her up from the chair to be carried in her arms. “I’m fine, Shego, really. I can go a bit longer.”
“Mm. You say that but you’re starting to resemble a zombie.” She held Kim tighter, voice tamer now. “Besides, you can’t expect to retain any more information by going at it with no rest. Come on. You can drool on me if you want to.”
Kim observed the quiet concern in Shego’s eyes and her objection died in her throat. She sighed, leaning into her. “You always know when to pull me back, don’t you?”
Shego reached the bed and lowered Kim to the mattress. “Someone has to,” she murmured, “otherwise you’d turn into a very smart zombie.”
Kim chuckled as they curled in beneath the covers. She felt Shego’s arms settle around her, steady and grounding. Within minutes, the tension in her shoulders eased and she fell asleep.
*
Kim found Shego on the balcony one night, sitting with her knees pulled up, staring out into the city.
To anyone else, she looked untouchable. To Kim, it was clear that Shego was fraying. She didn’t move when Kim slid the glass door open, and she didn’t look over either.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Kim asked gently.
“Wasn’t trying to.”
Kim stepped closer, lowering herself down to sit, her thigh pressing against Shego’s. She noticed quickly, the change in Shego’s demeanor earlier. Distant and quiet, like she had fully given into something clouding her mind. Kim was good at that, and good at giving her space until she felt that enough time had passed before checking in.
She waited a moment on the balcony, letting the silence stretch before nudging Shego lightly. “You get like this when something’s bothering you.”
“I do? Maybe I just like peace and quiet.”
“You definitely do,” Kim agreed, “But you don’t brood on the balcony at midnight unless you’re wound up.”
For a moment, Shego didn’t answer. Then she leaned back and sighed, the exhale sounding heavier than she probably meant it to.
“I’m just in my head again. About everything.”
It happens at times, shadows of the past shocking Shego into this dismal state. Often, it occurred when Shego spent time with villains current or former, fighting them off or helping them gain a life like the one she has. Something about it cuts into Shego, and Kim didn’t blame her for the way she feels about any of it, not one bit.
She kept silent, giving way to let Shego speak.
“Some are still kicking, some… wanting a way out. It’s messy, you already know. You’d think I’d be used to it by now but it… still… Seeing them is like seeing a mirror and thinking, God, that used to be me. ”
Kim shifted closer, slipping her hand into Shego’s. She didn’t know how long her girl had been out here, but her fingers were freezing. Kim brought them to her mouth, hoping the breath from her nostrils would warm them.
“Some of them still spit my name like a curse,” Shego continued, “Or look at me like I betrayed them by getting out. Half the time, I don’t know what’s worse—being remembered as their ally or resented as their deserter.”
“Hey.” Kim tucked smooth fingers under Shego’s chin, guiding Shego to look at her. “You aren’t their anything anymore. You’re mine .”
Kim sounded so firm and certain, it made a weight melt off of Shego’s chest. She loved the sound of Kim’s voice and the words said, holding her steady like an anchor amidst a storm.
“You’re not them anymore,” Kim whispered. “You walked away from that and chose yourself. Chose us. And every day I’m so grateful that you did.”
Shego exhaled slowly, the stress in her shoulders easing as Kim slid into her lap. For a second, Shego resisted, the old instinct to avoid and sink in flickering through. But Kim didn’t give her any chance. She just wrapped herself around Shego, arms and legs and all, as if she were keeping her from herself.
“Let me hold this for you,” Kim murmured. “All of it—the doubt, the anger, the sadness. You don’t have to carry it alone.”
Shego’s arms finally came up, circling Kim’s waist, pulling her in like she couldn’t bear the space between them. She buried her face in Kim’s hair, breathing her in, letting the tension bleed out.
“I hate that they still get to me,” Shego admitted.
“I know,” Kim replied, “But it’s okay. It takes time. And I won’t be going anywhere. Okay? I’m here. You know I’m here.”
It was that reminder that made every last one of Shego’s defenses fall down. Not because she suddenly felt absolved, but because Kim’s support and reassurance was wrapped around her so tightly she couldn’t help but give into it.
“Thank you, Kimmie,” Shego said. She was so relaxed, she felt as if seeping into Kim right now was a very real possibility.
Kim guided Shego’s face up into the open to scatter tender kisses on it—one on the bridge of her nose, on the edge of her jawline, the corner of her mouth, the apple of her cheek—again and again until it brought out her laughter. Kim wasn’t satisfied until she heard it, was soothed by the sound of it, like a symphony that only played for her.
***
It was agreed upon by the two that Sunday was a chore day.
Laundry was done, and all of their clothes were neatly folded on the table. The bathroom and kitchen were clean, groceries put away in their respective places, and both of them had collapsed onto the couch in a heap of limbs for a much earned rest.
Kim lay sprawled on Shego’s chest, scrolling through her phone lazily while Shego watched the TV. One of her hands idly traced patterns across Kim’s back, her nails scratching lightly on soft skin.
Kim sighed, relaxed. “You ever think about how weird this is?”
Shego arched a brow. “What, the fact that we just couch rot after doing all of our chores? I thought that was a normal thing.”
Kim laughed, swatting Shego lightly. “No, I mean us. Remember how we were literally the definition of on sight ? I would be so annoyed every time you were there cause it meant I really had to be on my game. Now we’re…”
“... fighting over the right way to fold socks,” Shego chuckled.
“Don’t dodge,” Kim said, propping herself up so she could look at Shego properly. “It’s kind of insane, isn’t it? You and me. Like this.”
For a moment, Shego was quiet. Considering the weight of Kim’s words, thinking back on those moments in their past. Her hand stilled against Kim’s back, and when she finally spoke, her voice was gentler than usual.
“Yeah it is,” she replied, reaching up and brushing a strand of hair from Kim’s face. Her usual stoicism had cracked, just slightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier, you know.”
Kim’s heart squeezed, but she couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease. “You’ve fought aliens and saved the planet. And laundry night makes you happier than that?”
Shego punished Kim with tickles, regretting the show of vulnerability and swearing she would never say such sweet things again, stopping only when Kim surrendered and apologized with kisses.
“You can pretend you’re annoyed all you want,” Kim noted, pressing closer, “but I know you love it.”
“I love you .”
Kim blinked, stunned. Her mouth opened, closed, then curved into a slow smile that made Shego suddenly shy.
“You—wow,” Kim breathed, placing her hand on Shego’s cheek. “You’ve just never… said it like that before.”
Shego looked almost sheepish. She always figured the physical affection, sharing everything, constantly missing each other, being held close—those were supposed to say it. She felt the actions were already there, and that it never really needed to be said.
But seeing Kim’s face right now, eyes sparkling and full of adoration, looking at Shego like that , made her realize how much power there was in actually saying the words. Kim looked undeniably, exorbitantly, boundlessly happy and Shego absolutely delighted in it.
Her thumb brushed across Kim’s jaw, and she leaned in to kiss her, slow and deliberate. Kim hummed dreamily, feeling like she was swimming in bliss.
“You really had no idea, huh?” Kim asked, looking up at Shego. “How much that would mean to me?”
Shego shook her head, the corners of her mouth tugging into the faintest smile. I'm such an idiot. “I always thought my actions spoke loud enough. I didn’t think saying it would—” She paused, exhaling slowly, savoring that sweet, soft expression on Kim’s face. Now it was her turn to hum dreamily. “—make you look at me like that. Like I’d given you the sun and stars.”
Kim laughed, brushing her nose against Shego’s. “I love the way you show it. You do give me the sun and stars, every day. But hearing it is… it means everything.”
Shego’s usual stoic affront melted away completely, delicate tenderness slipping through in a way only Kim ever saw.
“Say it again,” Kim pleaded, “I want to hear it.”
And so Shego did, slower this time, letting the weight of each word sink in.
They stayed that way for a long while, with Kim nestled against Shego’s chest, both enveloped in each other’s arms. Taking in the shared understanding that this moment had made their love feel more solid, more tangible, and made them feel infinitely closer than ever. They didn’t need more than that.
Just the steady rhythm of breathing together, the warmth of being held, and the definite knowledge that they belonged to each other.