Conclusion.

Drakken is not the ideal patient. ;)

*******

Shego set her shoulders and marched straight through those doors. Drakken, on the other hand, stumbled in and would have plowed right into a wall if she hadn't grabbed him by the back of his coat. "Stay with me, Doc," she whispered.

"Okay," Drakken muttered back. His voice sounded sleepy, and it worried her, obnoxiously enough. Maybe that list of people she cared about besides herself was up to five now.

But there was no time to think about that now - not that she even wanted to. Shego stalked up to the desk and shoved aside the papers the receptionist was looking at. "Hi," she said in her best cavity-inducing voice. "I need one of those nice little emergency physicians - NOW."

The receptionist peered at her curiously over the tops of her glasses. "Not for me," Shego added with a not-so-patient sigh. "For him."

She pointed in the general direction of Drakken, who was by now curled up in a chair, shaking like a wet dog.

The receptionist's eyes turned soft, and Shego knew she was about to start fussing. Why, she wondered, did people get like that over her annoying employer? It was one of the few things she'd never been able to figure out.

"Is he sick?" the receptionist asked.

Shego shook her head. "Needs stitches."

Drakken sobbed his agreement.

After that, things sped up into a whirl. Only once she was sitting in a tiny room with Drakken lying in a bed and a couple of doctors in white coats squinting at his face did things start to clear. Finally, it wasn't resting solely on her shoulders anymore.

"So - can you fix it?" Drakken asked.

The female doctor chuckled. "Of course we can fix it," she said. "That's what we're here for." She dug into her pocket and pulled out a tiny sucker. "Lollipop?"

Drakken shook his head and squinched up his face, and Shego heard herself sigh again. If Drakken didn't immediately pounce on a sweet and devour it, he must be feeling pretty bad.

"I will, say, though," the male doctor added, "it's a good thing your daughter got you here when she did. That's a pretty nasty cut."

Daughter? Shego felt herself go rigid against the stiff plastic chair. That was nasty.

Drakken blinked up at the doctor. She could almost hear the gears grinding sl-ow-lllly in his mind. "I don't have a daughter," he said finally, voice shaky with confusion.

The doctor waved a hand in Shego's direction. "This lovely young lady over here?"

She allowed him only half a smile. Flattery doesn't get you far, dude.

Drakken gave the doctor a completely blank look, and then shook his head rapidly. "Oh, Shego. No, she's not my daughter. She's my...." He trailed off, and shot Shego a questioning look. She shrugged. Whatever she was to him, she wasn't sure there was a word for it.

"Girlfriend?" the doctor suggested. His eyebrows shot up disapprovingly.

Okay, that was beyond nasty.

Drakken's own eyebrow dipped nearly down to his nose. "No," he answered. "She's just my friend."

The look he gave Shego clearly said, Did I do it right?

She wasn't sure "friend" was the right word, but she let it go. It beat "daughter" and especially "girlfriend" by a mile.

"Okay, then," the female doctor butted in. "Let's get you all fixed up, Mr..." She turned curious eyes on Drakken.

Shego gave him a look that she hoped said DON'T USE YOUR VILLAIN NAME, YOU MORON!!!!!

Drakken caught his tongue between his teeth and then licked his lips awkwardly. "Lipsky," he said finally. "Drew Lipsky."

Shego slapped a hand over her mouth. Good grief, and she thought she'd come up with some strange aliases in her life of crime. The man was creative if nothing else.

"Well, then, Mr. Lipsky," the girl doctor said. "We're just going to give you a little shot..."

Uh-oh. Here come the fireworks.

Sure enough, Drakken's eyes went wild. "Shot? Will it hurt?"

"Not even a quarter as much as I'm betting your face hurts right now," the doctor answered smoothly. She dusted her hands together. "And it'll make your face stop hurting so we can stitch you right up."

Drakken's forehead went into rows, and Shego could almost hear him weighing that in his mind. "Okay," he said finally. He darted his eyes over to Shego. "I don't suppose I could squeeze your hand?"

She activated her plasma glow. "What do you think?"

The male doctor gave her an odd look. Oh, right. She'd forgotten how strange that must look to the unacquainted.

"You can squeeze mine," the girl doctor said.

Go figure that.

All the shot got was a mini-yelp, though Drakken whimpered like a Chihuahua though the stitches. And after they were done with that, the doctors exchanged sort of worried looks.

"What?" Drakken bleated.

"Well, let's just say something in your skin is a little...different that most people's," Mr. Doctor began.

Drakken gave a weak snort. "Ya think?"

Shego felt her mouth twitch. Drakken trying to be sarcastic? It was too pitiful.

"The point is," Mrs. Doctor added, slapping one of the elusive tan square bandages on Drakken's cheek, "that may not heal properly."

His eyes grew saucer-wide. "You mean, it'll keep bleeding and bleeding forever and forever and I'll never be able to rule the -"

Shego slapped a hand over his mouth before he could get any farther. No telling how the doctors would react to that piece of information.

"Oh, no." Mrs. Doctor shook her head. "At worst, it'll scar. I just thought you should know."

Drakken's eyes drooped at the corners, and Shego knew what he was thinking. If it did scar, it would be long and jagged and nasty - and right there on his face for the world to see. She couldn't help it; she felt a tiny pang for him.

And with that, he collapsed back against the bed. "Shego," he whimpered. "Can we go home now?"

"Fine by me."

Once Drakken was out of the bed, he turned to Mrs. Doctor. "Do I get a sticker?"

Shego groaned right out loud.

Mrs. Doctor, though, laughed and peeled off a Fearless Ferret sticker and slapped it on Drakken's coat. "There you go, hon," she said.

He left the room, beaming. Shego, on the other hand, turned to the doctors. "You were pretty good with him," she admitted.

Mrs. Doctor kept chuckling. "I used to be a pediatrician," she explained. "I'm good with kids."

"And fortyish guys who aren't playing with a full deck," Shego muttered as she left.

She found Drakken halfway down the hall, hanging onto the wall with one hand and his forehead with the other. "Head still feel weird?" she asked.

Drakken shook the head in question. "Nope," he answered, in a voice that was a lot wobblier than he probably wanted it to be. "I'm a manly evil genius, Shego. I can take it." With that, he snapped his head up, straightened his shoulders, and took several marching steps.

And promptly got sick in the waiting room trash can.

She didn't say a word.

*********

This has been the longest day of my life, so far. She pulled up at a stoplight and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. Oh, well, at least it was almost time for her to go home.

"That could have gone a little worse, but I don't see how," Drakken mumbled from the backseat.

Shego shrugged. "You could have wet your pants, too, while you were at it."

"She-go!" His voice spiraled up. "You're not helping!"

"Well, sorry," she shot back.

She heard Drakken sigh. "But now I'm probably going to have a scar. Right there on my face. And it'll be ugly."

His voice was going up a decibel at the end of every sentence, and Shego needed to put a stop to that right now, before she had a wreck. "Looks don't matter, Dr. D.," she reminded him.

He snorted. "Easy for you to say. You're pretty."

"Yeah, thanks," she replied in a deadpan voice. "But, really, who cares? The people who didn't care that you're blue and freaky-looking aren't going to care if you have a scar."

"Do you care?"

Shego turned a corner. "Look, Doc, this may come as a surprise to you, but I didn't come to work with you for your stunning good looks."

"You didn't?" In the rearview mirror, she saw Drakken's mouth twitching at the corners, the way hers did. He cupped a hand around his mouth and added in a stage-whisper, "That was sarcasm."

She pulled into the evil-lair driveway. "I know sarcasm when I hear it, pal."

"You invented it or something," Drakken muttered drowsily.

It felt good to laugh.

"Oh, by the way," Shego said as she climbed out of the car. "Nice fake name you gave them in the emergency room."

There was an extremely awkward silence, which Drakken broke by coughing.

She felt her eyebrows go up. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"Drew - Lipsky?"

"Tell anyone and you're fired," Drakken added, wobbling out of the car.

Shego pretended to zip her lips and throw away the key.

And stored it away in her brain for just the right moment, should she ever need to blackmail the guy.

*****

Hey, I bet I could ask him to pay me extra for today. Shego plucked a granola bar from the pantry and a water bottle from the refrigerator and tucked them into a small bag for the drive home.

Now that would be making something good come out of this whole crazy day. She burst into the lab, mouth already forming the words, "Dr. D, you so owe me for this -"

And then she stopped. Drakken was sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep.

Shego was about to lean over and shake him to wake him up. But then he sighed in his sleep and made the spikes of hair on his forehead flutter - the way the Wegos used to do when they were little. Really little, like maybe three or four.

And so she decided to just let him sleep. She'd get her money tomorrow.