Story: The After Christmas Blues (all chapters)

Authors: Yimmy

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Chapter 1

Title: Whatever Tomorrow Brings...

[Author's notes: Hello again! This is a sequel to my previous Kigo fic, "The Night Christmas Went Boom." Read that first and then check this out. While the two stories are vastly different in genre, the plot does carry over. Oh yeah, for those astute readers, yes this story is a crossover. See if you can spot it!]

The After Christmas Blues

by Yimmy

 

 

Chapter 1: Whatever Tomorrow Brings...

 

 

                “Ah, Dr. Director.  Please, sit down.”

                Betty Director wasn’t easily intimidated.  As the leader of Global Justice, a worldwide crime fighting force, the term “intimidate” usually applied when she chose to exercise the feeling on others.  However, even she had her bosses, and currently, every one of them--each an unreadable statue--sat on the raised dais at the front of the room.

                Her bosses?  Knowledgeable representatives of the G8 nations, in other words, leaders of their own country’s espionage and defense organizations.  From the UK was the head of MI-6.  From the US, director of the CIA.  From Russia, the FSB’s (formerly the KGB’s) chairman stared.  And on and on down the line.  Eight nations, eight bosses, each with his or her own agenda and Betty’s job in their capable but not always cooperative hands.  They convened once a year to assess current state of GJ, bring to light new threats, and decide on funding to her organization’s numerous arms.

                The politically naïve called it a status report.  Those who’d gone through this gauntlet knew it as a systematic deconstruction of the year’s happenings.

                The faintest of faint rumblings dried Betty’s throat.  Intimidated?  God no.  Concerned?  Well, maybe just a little. 

                Gracefully, she slid into the plush chair.  From her vantage point, the eight representatives towered above all.  Behind them, a finely sculpted atlas of the world covered the wall as if to remind those sitting before this powerful panel who he or she ultimately served.  Funny how the same panel had their backs turned to the atlas, but Betty kept that morsel of commentary to herself.

                The CIA representative spoke first.  “Whenever you’re ready, Dr. Director.”

                Her presentation went well... initially.  Talks about successes guaranteed lots of nodding heads and a receptive audience, but with an agency as large as GJ, failures cropped up.  A security breach here, a botched mission there, and not to mention the increasingly bumbling antics of Agent Will Du secured disapproving scowls.  But Dr. Director wasn’t Dr. Director for nothing, her verbiage always dulling the sharpest blows to her organization.  She ended her report with a handful of flashy high notes, quoting glowing statistics and reiterating the most smashing of victories.

                Then, the questions started, each one more in depth than the next.  The Japanese wanted to know what the British were doing about Monty Fiske, a.k.a. Monkey Fist.  The Canadians expressed their displeasure over the U.S.’s inability to contain DNAmy who was now poaching endangered animals in their northern territories.  The U.S. and U.K. banded together to raise hell about the possible sightings of WEE--the Worldwide Evil Empire--in Russia. 

                All of which fell under GJ’s broad jurisdiction.

                Flustered at the barrage, the quickly fraying Betty missed a question posed by the head of the BND, Germany’s answer to the CIA.  “Could you repeat that?”

                The stocky, quickly approaching elderly woman nodded, her vacant gaze unnerving in every way.  “I vas wundering about ze ‘promising contractors’ you spoke of last time ve met.”

                Promising contractors?  What promising contra-

                Oh.  “Yes,” coughed Betty as she shifted in her seat, “They are still promising.”

                The short answer didn’t satisfy the aged matron.  “Elaborate.”

                Eight pairs of eyes trained onto Betty’s one eye.  To hide the truth--especially with an operation underway as she spoke--would be grounds for GJ’s dissolution.  To be honest, she wasn’t too fond of the truth, but if it’s what these hardened espionage leaders wanted...

                “One of the two prospective agents has been compromised.”

 

 

*****************

 

 

                They sat atop the hill and watched the sun shimmer on fallen snow.  Bundled in their thickest winter wear, the cold didn’t even faze them.  Besides, if it did, their very presence next to each other would’ve undone the harshest chills.

                “It’s beautiful, Shego.”

                “I always liked Middleton after a good snow.  Everything just... glows.”

                With that, they fell back into silence.  Kim Possible nudged herself closer to Shego, closer until their heavy coats flattened out and passed a wholesome warmth between them.  Before them lay the entire city doing its best impersonation of a white, peaceful wonderland.  The sun shoved away all manners of darkness, highlighting foliage that managed to pucker through the passed blizzard.  Cars rolled slowly along like gigantic, expensive pearls.  Windows glimmered like diamond facets.

                “How long do you think this is going to last?”

                Shego shrugged.  “Until the snow melts.”

                “No, I mean this,” emphasized Kim, reaching over to cover her companion’s hand, “Us.”

                It’d been fourteen days since Christmas.  The New Year blossomed into reality but nothing else acknowledged it.  Middleton stayed in the holiday spirit, red and green decorations still littering the land.  The people woke at ungodly hours, all of them refusing to get themselves back into the grind of non-vacation life.

                The same held true for Shego who spent the weeks in a daze.  What began as an intolerable exercise to find Dr. D’s Christmas tree turned into a harrowing adventure which then evolved into... into... this

                She and Kim.  Kim and her.  Was this love?  Maybe.  Was this romance?  Probably.  Was this happiness?  Most certainly.  Was this real?  Yes, but that didn’t stop Shego from pinching herself.  This was this, a dreamy rapport none thought could or would ever be.  Being together felt so right and invigorating.  Being together felt so refreshing, Shego’s elder cynic to Kim’s golden hearted champion. 

                They weren’t opposites--too many similarities lay between them--but they were complimentary, and together, the world at large seemed to glow brighter than it did at the moment.

                Shego shrugged again, but this time, a ghost of smile showed through.  “How long do you want it to last?”

                “I don’t know.”

                “Me neither.”

                Kim sighed and rested her head on Shego’s shoulder.  “I have school in a week.”

                “That’s when my paid vacation ends too.”

                “Then what?  Are we going to pretend nothing happened?”

                “Well, that’s one option.”

                Kim bristled at the flippant comment.  “Even Drakken knows things have changed between us.”

                “You’re asking me for the future, Kimmie,” smirked Shego, “I’m no good at fortune telling.  I’m no good at the normal thing either.  Someone said to me once, ‘Dates are things normal girls have, girls who have time to think about nail polish and facials.’  I don’t do normal.  All I know is that this crummy little town looks nice despite its prettiest thing sitting up here with me.”

                Sweet talking.  It almost worked, but Kim was Kim, stubbornly determined.  “I’m serious, Shego.  This Christmas has been my best one yet and a lot of the reason is because you were there.  For once, we were just enjoying life together without fighting.  We were having fun, hanging out, getting to know each other better.  Heck, even Ron’s warming up to you.  Every second’s been a happy blur and I don’t want it to end.”

                “Then don’t let it.”

                “But it will.  You’re going to go back to Drakken, I’m going to have to stop you, and we’ll end up fighting again.”

                Puppy dog eyes filled with pooling tears hit Shego with a hurricane’s force.  Compounding the perfect storm: the tightening grip on her hand and the quivering lower lip.  Then for the coup de grace, Kim’s nose twitched and sniffled.  The Possible pout went into full effect, merciless in all its cuteness, relentless in its search for pity and compliance.

                “Kimmie, what do you want?”

                “A promise.”

                A promise.  Sounded so innocent and undemanding but Shego knew otherwise.  Only the densest of the dense would’ve missed Kim’s need for a fairy tale ending.  That was how everything ended for her, wasn’t it?  Happily ever after?  Shego felt the words ringing around in Kim’s head, the same words which would end those villainous ways and send her back onto the side of good.  It was so tempting...

                However, it was a promise Shego could never keep. 

                A promise like that meant giving up her freedom.  Even with Kim nuzzled by her side, even with the bubbly feelings effervescing through her this entire week, even with her veritable fortune from thievery, even with the vision of fighting with Kim instead of against her, Shego couldn’t give up her freedom.  Freedom was everything, greater than money, greater than power, and greater than (at this point) Kimmie.  Going straight meant constraining herself and owning up to the things she’d done, the things which made her a wanted criminal, the same things which would land her in jail.  Going straight meant not breaking out of jail and serving her time which inevitably led to a loss of freedom.  A life without freedom--no matter how brief--wasn’t worth living, and that axiom dictated how Shego existed. 

                Yet she couldn’t deny Kim.  There was a reason why those green eyes and that red hair pushed every button of her soul: love.  Her mind sidestepped it, her heart tried to ignore it, but love colored her thoughts and emotions.  What began as an unhealthy obsession about a rival became this, an infantile love.  Amazing how Kim didn’t push her away; amazing how she didn’t freak at the idea of two women being together; amazing how she didn’t disregard the possibility of this before it even saw the light of day.

                Then again, with a name like Kim Possible, a girl had to be open to possibilities.

                Shego locked her eyes on Kim’s, halting the puppy dog gaze.  “I’ve got an idea, Princess.  It’s not what you have in mind but it’s as close as I can give you.”  Disappointment crested that adorable face but Shego remained strong, showing a measure of doggedness herself.  “As long as you want me, whatever tomorrow brings, I’ll be here.”

                “That doesn’t solve anything.”

                “It solves everything, Kimmie.  Whatever the world says, whatever happens to either of us, as long as you want me, I’ll be with you.”

                “It doesn’t change the fact that we’re on opposite sides.”

                An old saying popped up out of nowhere, one which Shego found vastly appropriate.  “Love is compromise, Princess.  Love is hard work.  Love takes time, the true kind anyway.  Let’s just take baby steps before we go around changing each other into people we’d regret even knowing.  I tried that once and it didn’t quite work out the way I wanted it to.”

                Shyly, Kim kissed Shego on the lips, the peck quick and soft.  When she pulled away, her cheeks blushed a fiery red, as red as her brilliant hair.  “So this is love.”

                “Not quite yet, but it’s getting there.”

                “Fine,” Kim nodded, though the nod more for herself than Shego, “We’ll be there for each other no matter what.”

                “I noticed you changed the ‘me’ to ‘we.’”

                “I’m learning to compromise.”

 

 

*****************

 

 

                “Compromised?” scoffed the CIA director.  He’d been using the term to cover up words like “pooch screw” and “royal fuck up” for over twenty seven years.  Compromised.  Ha!  “‘Compromised’ is never a good thing.”

                “No sir, it is not, but Global Justice is working diligently to solve this dilemma.”

                “Just sever ties to dis not quite agent, non?” The French representative, and by the look on his face, he had other places to be, other things to do.

                Betty shook her head.  “She has too much potential.”

                “Mais non, madamoiselle, no one person has that much potential.”

                “Oh yes, this person does possess that much potential.”

                “And ze proof, Dr. Director?”

                “What if I told you that I’ve been sending this same ‘promising contractor’ out to deal with those megalomaniacal individuals we’ve all been besieged by?”

 

 

*****************

 

 

                With a spring in her step and a bad song stuck in her head, Shego waltzed her way into Drakken’s newest lair, one of Middleton’s many nice sized houses.  After spending Christmas at the Possibles’, her eccentric and often short-sighted boss insisted on moving into a “homelier” atmosphere, preferably (according to him) “something with a deck and a clear view of the southern sky.”  Scary thing was, Drakken spent most of his time pestering Kim’s mom about the various vases, paintings, and knick knacks, most of which could’ve been gleaned from one episode or another of Martha Stewart.  After a crash course in home decoration, the dufus tried his hand at the art.

                Results were painful at best.

                Take the plaid afghan draped all over the couch.  A green and red plaid would’ve been nice, but yellow and purple?  Gah.  If such a travesty wasn’t enough, Dr. Dr added kudzu.  Lots of kudzu.  He had it hanging off of lights, overgrowing the TV, spiraling around banisters, creeping around walls, and bordering various stolen pieces of art.  In some places, the new lair resembled a jungle or, at the very least, a kudzu jungle.

                Leave it up to the good doctor to desanctify a perfectly fine upper-middleclass home.

                Pushing the eye sores out of her mind, Shego sauntered to the kitchen where she promptly-

                “Whoa!”

                -slipped on a wet puddle.  Great balance and acrobatic skills allowed her to remain upright, flailing arms and all.  Once catching her breath, the now annoyed Shego frowned at the offending liquid.  Her scowl would’ve deepened further if she didn’t realize that she was standing on blood.

                The frown melted into worry.  Her ears strained for bits of sound like footsteps, henchman’s voices, or other signs of life. 

                Nothing.

                Crouched down low, Shego slinked into the dining room.  Still nothing, but at least here, she could sneak out the window and leave through the backyard.  Carefully and silently, she pulled back the ugly knit curtain.

                However, as the fabric began to move, a hail of bullets shattered the noon calm.  Holes appeared in the curtain, spilling light into the room one deadly projectile at a time.  Naturally, Shego scampered back into kitchen and behind the counters to avoid any shots.

                Outside, a booming voice declared, “We’ve got activity on the first floor!  Go go go!”

                Doy, this couldn’t be good.

 

 

*****************

 

 

                Silence.  This roomful of people finally had no words.

                Betty gratefully took the respite, but in order to regain the upper hand in this meeting, she had to stay on the offensive.  “While true that these menaces are still free today, such is the failing of the facilities we incarcerate them in, not the failing of this contractor.  During the course of the last few weeks, intelligence indicates that one of these menaces is trying to befriend the contractor and use her against GJ.”

                “And who, pray tell, are you getting this intelligence from?” asked the MI-6 director.  “You’re talking about a woman who single-handedly outsmarts and outfights the best the villain underworld has to offer, a task we ourselves have failed in.  What makes you think that any of your intelligence is even accurate?”

                Betty smiled knowingly.  “My intelligence comes from the other equally promising but uncompromised contractor who incidentally enough just accepted my invitation to join GJ yesterday.”

 

 

*****************

 

 

                “Hey Mon.”

                “So where were you, girl?  Been callin’ you like crazy.”

                With the phone nestled on her shoulder, Kim freed her hands to straighten out a few fallen Cuddle Buddies.  “I was out,” the redhead answered.

                “With Shego again?”

                “Yeah.”  Didn’t take a rocket scientist to see where this conversation headed towards.  “And?”

                “And?”  Monique’s voice rose a notch.  “Kim, she’s trouble.  Now I get all that ‘bout holiday spirit, but shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, NOT hangin’ out with a psychopath?”

                “Shego isn’t that bad once you get to know her.  You saw her during Christmas-”

                “That was Christmas!  Girl, dontcha know people go back to normal after Christmas?  I guarantee you that woman is playin’ some kind of game with you.”

                Two weeks ago, Kim would’ve echoed Monique’s sentiments.  Today, while a little part of her still held the insecurity, most of her revolted against Shego bashing.  Checking the tiniest bit of annoyance creeping into her mind, Kim flopped on her bed and put the phone to her other ear.  “So not the drama, Mon.  Just chill, ok?”

                “I can’t chill!  My best friend’s worst enemy knows where she lives!  What part of that can I chill over?”

                “Shego isn’t going to-”

                “What if the crazy white girl decides to rob a bank?”

                A moment of hesitation hitched Kim’s response.  It was only a moment, but the pause between question and answer made the following ring false.  “I’d stop her.”

                “See?  You hear yourself?  You had to think about it!  She could’ve done a million things to you in that time and none of them are good!”

                The objections from not long ago came back in spades.  Shego was a villain; Kim was a heroine.  They fought, they separated, and they fought again, that’s how things worked.  How could two people with such opposing mentalities ever have a successful friendship, let alone be in love?  It couldn’t and Monique’s bullet points gave a form to the misgivings in Kim’s head.

                They’d existed in a winter wonderland, but sooner rather than later, the snow would melt and reality would once again set in.  Things could never be the same between them, but they surely could get worse.  The pressure scrunched up Kim’s forehead and made her snatch her dearest pandaroo from its perch. 

                Luckily, Monique wasn’t oblivious to her friend’s plight.  Softening her voice, she said, “Kim, I know you like to think everyone in the world is halfway decent, but there’s some people you can’t put anything past.  I just don’t want you to get hurt, girl.  I’m worried about you.”

                “I know, Mon, I know.”

                Another pause and the sound of shifting around on the other end of the line.  “I’m thinkin’ about goin’ out to a movie later.  Wanna come with?”

                Nice change of subject.  Kim smiled sadly and cleared her throat.  “Yeah, what movie?”

                “No idea but I wanted to get outta the house.”

                “Should it be just us girls or can I call Ron?”

                “Call him.  The boy probably knows what movie’s good.”

                “Ok, lemme just-”

                Suddenly, her Kimmunicator belted its ever distinctive ring tone.

 

 

*****************

 

 

                “What’s the bottom line?”

                Leave it up to the good old Japanese to cut through the bureaucratic talk.

                Betty didn’t feel proud of herself.  In her lifetime, she’d done many things that made her conscience uneasy.  Sometimes though, for the greater good, orders had to be carried out, uneasiness had to be stomached, and lives had to be changed.

                This was one of those times.

                Kim Possible, whether she knew it or not, was the best at what she did.  Young age aside, her combination of raw talent and fast-thinking made her the perfect answer to many of GJ’s problems both present and future.  Because of those abilities, because of her impressionability, because of her willingness to help, Kimberly Ann Possible was an asset to be protected at any cost.

                Any cost.

                “Teams of GJ agents are currently carrying out an intricate operation to nip this problem at the bud.  Also, this mission serves an excellent test for our new recruit because he holds certain loyalties to the compromised contractor.  If all goes well, the contractor will join GJ, the recruit will pass with flying colors, and our problems with global menaces like Professor Dementor and Señor Senior, Sr. will be a thing of the past.”

 

 

*****************

 

 

                “KP, run that by me again?”

                Kim opened her mouth to answer but Wade beat her to the punch.

                “Shego and Drakken are stealing jet fuel from an oil refinery.”

                “Jet fuel?” asked Ron, blinking.  “Isn’t that a little... beneath them?”

                “Well, normally I’d say yes, but they’re going after an experimental, military grade fuel codenamed J-PAT.  It’s freakishly efficient, thermally stable, and leaves no traceable residues after combustion.”

                “So?”

                Now sounded like a good time for Kim to reinsert herself back in the conversation.  “So it’s really useful, really good at what it’s suppose to do, and really expensive.  They can either use it or sell it.”

                “Right,” Wade nodded, “The worst part is, people like Drakken or Dementor only need a relatively small sample of this stuff to puzzle out the chemical structure.  Afterwards, they can probably make it themselves.”

                A little ding on Wade’s end of the Kimmunicator made the young genius look away for a split second.  “Oh cool, my burger’s done.  I have the layout of the refinery uploaded to your Kimmunicators, not to mention a few surprise gadgets under your seats.  Check ‘em out!  I’ll catch up with both of you after I finish my burger.”

                Of course, on the mention of gadgets, Ron immediately shoved his head underneath the chair and started digging around.  Meanwhile, Kim sighed at her now blank screen.  Just a few hours ago, she and Shego talked about the future and their feelings.  Not half an hour ago, she stood up to Monique’s vehement (and now increasingly resounding) objections over even associating with Shego.

                If only Monique knew... if only anyone knew the extent of “associating” that’d been going on...  They’d probably freak.

                Kim buried her head in her arms.  Was this what Shego meant when she said she wanted to be free?  Free to do anything she wanted?  Free to break the law or enforce it at her discretion?  What would their fights be like now?  On principle, neither would pull any punches, but still, principle never equated to practice.  Fighting for fun would be exhilarating; fighting in earnest because they were suppose to stop each other sent bad tremors down Kim’s spine.

                A little voice in the back of her head said “I told you so.”  Being completely enraptured with Shego--with her looks, her attitude, her weird, detached wisdom--made everything complicated.  Would they still be the same after this encounter?  Could they compartmentalize the professional and the personal?  Then in between all of that, she had to deal with her usual adolescent growing pains, an upcoming driver’s test, the coming semester, and issues of her own sexuality. 

                And then the most damning question: what if Shego was only playing with her emotions?

                “KP?  Ron to KP, are you awake?”

                “Yeah,” muttered Kim, slowly dragging herself back to a sitting position.  “Like... drama, you know?”

                “Yup yup,” nodded Ron, “Kind of feels funny going to bust people who you had Christmas dinner with.”

                “I just can’t envisioning them--especially Shego--trying to take over the world anymore.  She’s not some crazy, scary super-villain.  She’s sensitive and conscientious.”

                “Whoa, I won’t go that far.  Shego’s still scary.”

                “Ron, I thought you said she wasn’t that bad.”

                “She isn’t that bad because she wasn’t trying to barbeque me at the dinner table.  Once she starts shooting that green fire again, she goes back to being scary.”

                “I guess so.”

                “You guess so?”  Even back in pre-K, Ron had never seen Kim so undecided about anything.  It was always get-up n’ go with her, her mind dead set and her body in constant motion.  “Um, KP, there something Rufus and I should know about?”

                Her heart suddenly sped up at her friend’s innocent question.  Did he have an idea what was happening between them?  Oh God oh God ohGodohGod.  “I’m nervous.” 

                Crap, did she just blurt that out loud?

                “Why?”  It was Shego and Drakken, people they’d faced off with too many times to count.  What was there to be nervous about? 

                Before Kim needed to answer, the train they rode in came to a graceful halt.  Instead of going through Wade’s bag of tricks under the seat, our feisty heroine simply slung it over her shoulder and bounded to the exit.

                “Thanks for the ride!” she shouted to the conductor while she waited for Ron.

                “No need to thank me, young lady, not after you stopped Duff Killigan from stealing our tracks to put on his global golf course.”

 

 

***************

 


 

- To be continued...

Chapter 2

Title: I Promised

[Author's notes: See if you can spot the crossover!]

 

 

The After Christmas Blues

by Yimmy

 

Chapter 2: I Promised

 

 

                He was Special Agent Edwin Bullock, Global Justice counter-terrorism operative.  He was an ex-Army Ranger and holder of black belts in three forms of martial arts.  He’d been all over the world putting out hotspots before they began, sometimes with a team, mostly all by himself.  Seen some pretty incredible things in his travels, but none of them stacked up to this.

                A single, reed-thin girl shouldn’t have stood a chance against him.  Along those same lines, a single, reed-thin girl shouldn’t have had a prayer against two squads of GJ’s finest.  Agent Bullock had worked with a many of these men and women before, and in his professional opinion, each one of them amounted to a veritable force.  Together, they should’ve been unstoppable. 

                Not so according to the single, reed-thin girl with black hair, pale skin, and the greenest of green eyes.

                She moved like a shadow, always close by but ever elusive, never allowing anyone to use their guns effectively.  Her fists and feet hit like wrecking balls, knocking out agent after agent with frightening ease.  Even when someone managed to get a clear shot off at her, she danced around the bullets like a ballerina.  Soon, all that remained of the fifteen GJ agents was Edwin Bullock, ex-Army Ranger, black belt, counter-terrorism operative.

                The single, reed-thin girl smiled at him and unsheathed a set of menacing, black claws.

                Edwin--his submachine gun spent already--pulled out his sidearm and-

                Promptly dropped it to the floor when green plasma shot out from the girl’s hand and heated his beloved pistol to a metal clump.  Without hesitation, she charged, for all intents and purposes a whirling dervish.  Ever alert, Edwin blocked the first two of her blows but that surprise kick to his shin pulled his left leg out from under him.  A harsh knee knocked his jaw shut and sent him spiraling into the piano in the living room.  As his vision cleared, he saw a vine of kudzu wrap around him, holding in his current position of hunching over the baby grand.

                “You know,” began the girl, “I’m really not a violent person.  I actually hate violence.  Too bad I’m a very easily annoyed person who uses violence to solve her annoying problems.  A nicer villain would probably give you a choice right now, something about cooperate or die.  Me?  After getting shot at, I’m not in a nice mood, so I’m giving one choice: answer my questions while I beat the living daylights out of you.  Comprendè?”

 

 

*****************

 

 

                While his burger cooled in his microwave, Wade furiously taped his keyboard like a percussive instrument.  Things weren’t quite going according to plan and he needed a fix.  Heck, he needed a status update, forget the fix.  All he knew was that he lost contact with the GJ teams he’d left behind at Drakken’s lair.

                Not good.

                From the corner of his computer popped a dialog box, complete with a video feed of Dr. Betty Director.  “Mr. Load, you’re busy.”

                Well no crap.  “I think Shego took out the GJ teams,” he frowned as he flipped from communication channel to communication channel, “No one is answering their comm. unit.  Good news is that Kim’s already at the oil refine-”

                “Is everything in position there?”

                The abrupt cut-off rubbed Wade the wrong way, but keeping in mind his company, he bit his tongue.  Instead, his fingers slammed harder onto the keyboard.  “Yes ma’am, everything is in position at the oil refinery.”

                “Good.  Monitor the situation there: I don’t want another communication blackout like the one at Drakken’s base.”

                “What about the-”

                “Mr. Load, operations never go according to plan.  The mission objective should be any GJ agent’s highest concern.  Until new information arises, we can only cut our losses and move forward.  It is for the greater good.”

                “But Dr. Dir-”

                “You have your orders.”  Sensing Wade’s frustration, her stern voice softened as if suddenly remembering she was pushing around a prepubescent child genius.  “Focus on Ms. Possible, Wade.  I’ll see what I can do for the other team.”

                “Yes ma’am.”

                The dialog box closed.  Only when he was sure the director had disconnected did Wade let out a nervous shudder.

 

 

*****************

 

 

                Blinking, Drakken’s first thought was how much his head hurt.  It seemed to pulsate, sending jolts of random pain and nausea through him like an insidious torture device.  He reached up with his hand and felt a large lump protruding from his scalp.

                A bruise.

                Ah, that answered the conundrum.  Bruises, especially on one’s head, hurt like the dickens.  Now, “Where am I?”

                “Hello?  Dr. D, are you in there?”

                Slowly, Shego’s blurry form phased into view.  Behind her, a grungy dive of a factory from the bottom barrel of his nightmares appeared.  Scads of henchmen milled about, moving crates and tanks with startling efficiency.

                None of that answered his question.  “Shego, what’s going on?”

                “Doy,” sighed his sidekick, smacking her forehead, “Did you fall that hard on your head?  We’re stealing stuff.  Again.”

                Stealing stuff.  The concept immediately appealed to Drakken (oh great super-villain he was) but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what they were stealing.  In fact, he couldn’t recall how they even got here, let alone where here was.  All he remembered was a sharp knock on his door back at his newly decorated “secret” lair and-

                “You’re spacing out again, Dr. D.  It was your idea to come to this oil refinery and steal some ubër classified jet fuel.  That jog any of those underused brain cells?”

                Ubër classified sounded important, important enough to steal!  “Yes!  I remember now!  We’ll steal this ubër classified jet fuel and... and...”

                Another sigh.  “And use it for our evil purposes?”

                “Yes!” Drakken beamed, the pain of his considerable bruise a distant memory, “And use it for our evil purposes!”  The blue skinned dufus turned to his scattering of villain-employees.  “Henchmen!  Work faster!  We must proceed with phase two of my ultimate plan to take over the world!”

                Shego yawned.  Nothing out of the ordinary there, but strange enough, Drakken noticed his henchmen actually working faster.  To say the criminal element was brimming with scads of lazy no-goods would be putting it nicely: criminals, by and large, were an unmotivated breed who elevated cutting corners to an art.  By extension, henchmen tended to work at their own pace lest a physically imposing force (in this case, Shego) threatened them. 

                No matter how much Drakken himself yelled and ordered, his henchmen never worked faster.  So when they did pick up the speed, the evil genius felt smitten with himself, giddy even.  Perhaps his years as a respected villain had finally paid off.  What else could inspire this well-groomed, crew cut set of henchmen to go about their business like a disciplined military unit?

                This, of course, on top of the efficient style they’d started at.

                Drakken puffed his chest out and breathed deeply.  “Do you smell that, Shego?”

                “Kerosene and motor oil?”

                “No!”  He breathed again, closed his eyes, and raised his arms to the air.  “It’s the smell of respect!”

                “Funny.  I was about to agree with Shego.”

                Both villain and sidekick looked up in time to see Kim Possible fly through the air and plant a good-sized boot print on Drakken’s face.

 

 

*****************

 

 

                Shego lifted her legs up onto the control panel of Dr. D’s “premium mode of villainous transportation,” a sleek, two person stealth jet stolen from a lab in California.  Since life on the ground didn’t feel safe (what with people shooting at her and everything), Shego decided to pass the time circling a few thousand feet above Middleton, circling and filing her claws.  Though she seemed disinterested as she went about her menial, habitual task, such an observation couldn’t have been further from the truth. 

                Truth was, whenever GJ came knocking on her door, she always had a lot to think about.

                Oh, she knew those gun tottin’ jerks back at the lair were GJ.  They acted, smelled, talked, looked, and fought like GJ cronies.  Seen one, seen ‘em all.  Problem was, GJ always came in behind Kimmie to clean up the mess: less work for them that way.  What could’ve made them suddenly proactive?  Why were they shooting first and not asking questions?  Where did they take Dr. D and the rest of his incompetent henchmen?  How did they find out where the new lair was so quickly? 

                Kimmie.

                Frowning, infamous sidekick put down her file.  Everything came back to Kimmie one way or the other.  She had an idea where the new lair was; she also worked for those Global Jerk-offs.  Worst case scenarios?  GJ entered the picture because 1.) Kimmie was using them to pressure Shego into rejoining the “good guys” or 2.) Kimmie exploited their newly form relationship to strike a crippling blow at Shego in hopes of ending her unsavory career once and for all.

                Probable, but not Possible.  Those dark conclusions forced Kimmie to lie and while Kim Possible could do anything, she wasn’t very good at lying.  For the moment, Shego squashed the little paranoid, partially delusional voice screaming about “betrayal” and “love-struck idiot” and “stupid redheads.”  For the moment, Shego considered an alternate but no more favorable possibility.

                It involved GJ a spying on Kimmie.  Reality was, Kimmie was valuable to them.  To leave her unchecked wasn’t reasonable, and maybe, just maybe, the holidays weren’t as private as anyone envisioned them to be. 

                This meant that Dr. D was in big trouble.  This also meant trouble loomed around Kimmie, ready at a moment’s notice to collapse on her.  To top it all off, this situation spelled T-R-A-P for Shego herself.  She’d seen plans like this before, but the only inconsistency?

                There was no trail to the trap.

                If the wanna-be “superspy” she’d pummeled into unconsciousness had said anything, then the trap would’ve been set.  Unfortunately, he said nothing and took his beating with an almost Zen-like silence.  Furthermore, those people swept into the lair going for a kill, not to set into motion some great plan.  GJ didn’t want to put the cuffs on her anymore: they were looking to put a bullet in her, preferably one that would keep her dead.

                Worse and worse by the minute.

                And she would’ve continued her droning thoughts had an anomaly not shown up on the jet’s super advanced sensors.

                Twenty miles outside of Middleton, a ploom of green plasma erupted into the sky.

 

 

*****************

 

 

                Wade’s eyes bulged to epic proportions.  Line after line of code scrolled down his screen, errors plastered left and right.  By all logical facets, this program shouldn’t have even continued, but it did, each glitch compounding the next and the next and the next and so on.  He dared not shut his computer down for fear of losing what little control he still had over the situation.

                His brow wet with sweat, Wade gritted his teeth and tried to find the root of this mess.  His heart pounded faster than it ever had, faster than the time he came in second place at the worldwide Quake tournament. 

                That was a game; this was not.

                He only hoped his efforts could stop Kim and Ron from getting hurt any more.

 

 

*****************

 

 

                “What’s a matter, Kimmie?  Can’t take the heat?”

                They were beyond words now.  Didn’t stop Shego from talking, but Kim saved her breath for the next strike.  Her forearms hurt from all the blocking, her head swam in a murky haze, and breathing became a chore after that tank of something went up in flames.  All around, henchmen lay in tangled heaps, a good handful of them dead. 

                The past minutes raced by like a rerun.

                Jump kick Drakken.  Exchange quips with Shego.  Henchmen attack.  Ron and Rufus go after Drakken.  Try to get in a few words with Shego, namely what this morning meant to her.  Words of affection fly back into Kim’s face like a rejected résumé.  Shego’s eyes blur, then things spiral into chaos.  She tears into Drakken’s henchmen.  The henchmen fight back with remarkable skill (certainly more than when they were fighting Kim) but are no match for her.  Move in, struggle, struggle, struggle, bolt of plasma goes into a tank of something and almost blinds everyone.

                Something was wrong with Shego.  It wasn’t just what she did but the way she talked, fought, and moved.  The reasonable side of Kim told her this wasn’t the Shego she knew this morning, but adrenaline took over.  Outrage permeated Kim, outrage from the betrayal, the harsh dismissal of their near-death experience, the uncaring attitude toward human life, and the audacity to prove Monique’s doom-and-gloom prophecy right.

                The stabbing hurt and physical pain quieted Kim.  Her smoldering eyes said all she wanted to say.

                “If you keep frowning, your pretty face will get stuck that way.”

                Shego’s comment, and with it, green flames.  Hop over the projectile sprung the redhead.  Her foot lashed out for a strike, any strike, but Shego ducked out of the way.   Even before gathering herself from the impressive leap, Kim managed to throw a good number of punches.  Black gloves parried each hit and threw some back themselves.

                Unlike all those previous times before, these found their marks.

                Stunned, Kim stumbled back.  Shego was faster.  Shego was never faster.  Stronger?  Yes.  Faster?  No.  See, something was wrong with Shego.  No one’s styles and strengths could change that rapidly. 

                “Shego, what did Drakken do to you?”

                It had to be Drakken’s fault.  A mind control chip, an experimental drug, something changed Shego into this... at least, that’s what Kim kept on telling herself.

                A lightning-quick roundhouse kick answered her.  It came so fast Kim couldn’t even dodge, much less brace for it.  The hit smashed her across the face and lifted her off the ground.  She expected to tumble onto the floor but she didn’t.  Steady hands grabbed her mid-flight and threw her into an empty oil tanker.

                Kim blacked out for a moment.  Her vision tunneled into herself but her ears remained alert.  Maybe it was the impact or the bone-jarring walloping.  Maybe it was a concussion.

                “Say goodnight, Kimmie.  I’m sad I didn’t get to fuck your little virgin brains out, but trust me, I’ll get over it.”

                The hum of that fire building up reached a still dazed Kim.  She couldn’t see quite yet, but from the malicious green glow tinting her muddle sight, Shego seemed to be serious about this. 

                A piece of Kim crumbled away as the ugly truth scorched her soul: she was about to die, and die, no less, by Shego’s hands.  Shego, a person she’d come to respect and consider honorable.  Shego, the same woman who professed their relationship to be something close to love.  Shego, the manipulator who wormed her way into Kim’s life only to destroy it. 

                Shego, betrayer, beast, and murderer.

                That sound of green plasma shooting out of her hands blazed into Kim’s ears.  The redhead expected a sudden rush of heat, excruciating pain, then nothing.  Instead, what she got was a loud explosion, a mouth full of chalky concrete, and her eyes slowly recovering their function.

                Four Shegos stood before her.  Four?  That didn’t sound right.  Kim shook her head and looked again.  Two Shegos stood before her now.  Two still wasn’t right.  She repeated her previous action but still ended up with two Shegos.

                One of them had on the cockiest of cocky smirks.

                The other one looked furious beyond words.

                “Get away from Kimmie,” the furious one snarled, her claws gleaming with deadly intent.

                “Look who came out to play: the obsolete and much inferior iteration of Shego.”

                “Inferior?” The furious Shego’s hands ignited into infernos.  “I don’t know who you are, lady, but I guarantee there’s only one version of me.  I freakin’ hate clones.”

                The smirking Shego found the time to look offended.  “Clone?  Don’t patronize yourself.  You’re not good enough to clone.  You aren’t perfection.”

 

 

*****************

 

 

                “What’s going on over there?”

                “The Killer Bebe’s gone haywire!”

                Dr. Director glared into the screen to get her displeasure across to Wade.  “GJ’s been working to refine that android for seven months.  We eliminated every faulty subroutine.  This shouldn’t be happening.”

                “Well, you guys missed something,” frowned Wade.  “One way or another, the code itself is self-perpetuating.  It’s becoming independent...”

                “Turn it off.  Shut down Shego 2.0 and abandon the mission.”

                “I can’t!  Remember?  I said the code is self-perpetuating and independent.  It’s going to continue until it runs out of power.”

                A sinking feeling settled in the pit of Betty’s stomach.  “How long is that going to take?”

                “With that core you guys put in there?  Weeks, if not months.”

 

 

*****************

 

 

                Shego’s slash missed.  Again.  A frustrated growl escaped her throat as she decided that whatever her clone was, it couldn’t be flesh and blood.  She and Kimmie cornered the market for peak human performance, and right now, this sorry excuse for a villain was making them look like fourth graders fighting Muhammad Ali.

                No one could out fight them like this, which then placed this deadly parody of hers in the “thing” column.  Sheesh, for Christ’s sake, it was faster than Kimmie.  And the worst part?  It hit like a big sack of cinder blocks. 

                Speaking of Kimmie, the redhead--woozy head and all--came charging back into the fight after gathering herself.  Their eyes connected for a brief second.

                You go high.  I’ll go low.

                Kim ducked and swept.  Shego swung a mean right hook.  They hoped to catch the thing in an untenable position, but at the last second, it winked out of existence.

                Everything seemed to go into slow motion.  Shego finished her follow-through.  Kim began standing back up.  Both women’s heads were on swivels as they hunted for signs of their foe.  Suddenly, it appeared behind Kim and prompted Shego’s eyes to grow wide.  She didn’t even get a chance to utter a warning before the thing clobbered Kim straight into her.

                Then, it blinked away again.

                With a hollow slam of bodies on metal, time regained traction. 

                “Kimmie?”

                No answer.  Shego shook her rival, at first softly then with vigor.  Nothing except for shallow breaths.  A slight edge of panic pierced Shego’s toughened exterior before she remembered how much danger the both of them were in.  Being out in the open like this spelled trouble, and right now, Kimmie couldn’t afford any more of it.

                There!  Up in the rafters!  The thing was up there, devilish smile gleaming and flames crackling at its command.  Gathering Kimmie in her arms, Shego sprinted for cover just as the first barrage of fire pelted the ground.  Over oil drums and fallen girders she leapt, bobbing and weaving and trying to keep from being fried.  One of the plasma bolts hit a pond of spilled jet fuel and sparked a wall of heat to spring up behind Shego and obscure her from the thing’s view.

                Ha.  Bet it didn’t want to do that!

                Slipping behind a metal staircase, Shego gently set Kim down and-

                The sudden shrill of the Kimmunicator almost made her yelp in surprise.  She rummage through Kim’s pockets and found the offending device.  Her first instinct?  Smash it to pieces, but then the way it vibrated and flashed red, it seemed like an important call.

                Steeling herself, Shego flipped the device open.  “What?”

                Wade Load--nerd-linger extraordinaire--almost fell out of his chair.  “Shego!”

                “I know who I am, short stuff.”

                “Where’s Kim?  What are you doing there?”

                “Kimmie’s unconscious and I’m trying to save her life from some kind of deranged version of me.  So, if you can’t help, hang up and let me get back to work.”

                Wade bit his lip.  To trust or not to trust Shego, that was the dilemma. 

                On one hand, she was a villain, pure and simple.  How she gained Kim’s trust (and apparent affections) he had no idea, and honestly, he thought she was just manipulating Kim.  That’s the reason he took up Dr. Director on her offer to become a GJ agent: he needed the assets to “take care” of Shego before she had a chance to hurt one of his dearest friends.

                On the other hand, as of the moment, all signs pointed to GJ being the cause of the problems, what with an unconscious Kim, an M.I.A. Ron, a deranged android, and a handful of lives already lost. 

                “I don’t have time for this,” muttered Shego. 

                As she flipped the screen closed, Wade yelled, “Stop!  It’s a Killer Bebe!”

                Mention of Dr. D’s erstwhile creations stopped her cold.  So the nerd did know something.  “Ok, talk.”

                “What you’re fighting, it’s a modified Killer Bebe set to be a replica of you.”

                “I don’t move like the Flash.”

                “It’s still a Killer Bebe.  I packed pairs of Valkyrie 1000’s in Kim and Ron’s equipment bags and-”

                “You know more than you’re letting on.”

                “Um, what?”

                “How do you know that’s a Killer Bebe?  This thing is light-years beyond what Dr. D could ever put out.”

                Wade’s already perspiring forehead earned a new sheen of moisture.  However, instead of caving in to Shego’s questioning, he fired back, “I don’t need to tell you anything, Shego!”

                “Listen you little piece of-”

                Kim, still unconscious, suddenly spasmed.  Shego looked down at her companion and noticed half lidded eyes with only white showing.  The spasms continued, quickly growing worse and worse by the second.  While by no means a doctor, Shego had been around long enough to know the signs of a seizure.

                And seizures brought on by head trauma were never good.

                “Hello?  Shego?  What’s going on?”

                “Kimmie’s hurt,” the villainess breathed, her priorities rearranging themselves.  “She needs to get to a hospital.  NOW.”

                “That’s too bad because the only place you two are going is to the cemetery.”

                Harsh hands grabbed Shego’s long hair and pulled her away, away from her hurting Kimmie.  She tried to break the iron grip but it wouldn’t budge.  After a good long drag, the Killer Bebe yanked Shego to her feet, turned her around, and drove its elbow in her gut.  Of course, she doubled over but natural stubbornness willed her to remain as upright as she could.

                The robot seemed impressed. 

                Clawed fingertips tilted Shego’s chin up.  “Like I said, you aren’t perfect.  Anything short of perfection must be destroyed slowly and painfully.  Tell me I am the epitome of perfection, tell me I am your superior, tell me I am the pinnacle and I’ll make your death relatively painless.”

                “I knew a girl who hit harder than you.”

                Pushing aside the stunning blows, Shego drew upon her powers like never before, thrust her hands out, and unleashed a torrent of blinding green that consumed everything in front of it.  At first, the robot chuckled at the act and let it continue if just to spite her enemy.  After about five seconds, it noticed the flames penetrating its supposed fire-resistant synthetic skin.  Circuits began to overheat while its titanium alloy endoskeleton slowly warped.

                It didn’t panic.  Panic was for imperfect beings like that frail human.

                From out of the fire streaked a set of claws.  Coming too fast to dodge, Shego forced herself to catch the talons before they gouged her eyes out.  Burning hot metal passed through her gloves, sliced away skin, and lodged into bone.  In another blink of an eye, the shock of having her hand skewered forced her to stop her merciless onslaught.

                The android reappeared, skin slightly melted, body smoking, half its hair burned away, and left hand buried into Shego’s bleeding right palm.

                “Tsk, tsk, please, not even your worst can stop me.  How pathetic.”

                A foot smashed into the villainess’ stomach.  Two sensations reached her tired mind: the wind rushing out of her and the pain.  The pain in her right hand and sickening rip it gave when she tumbled onto her back next to a now-too-still Kimmie.

                The world began to melt away into a collage.  Fires illuminating the darkened refinery danced like ghosts, shadows taller than they really were.  Sounds which shouldn’t echo did, each successive refrain a little more hollow than the last.  Shego wanted to close her eyes for a second, just to rest them, just to phase out the burning wounds and numbing fear.  She needed respite to gather herself, but from how things went already, she probably wouldn’t be getting it.

                Hence the numbing fear.

                “I’m sorry, Kimmie, I tried,” she whispered, her intact hand reaching up to brush aside a few of her unconscious companion’s red hair, “I kept my promise.”

                Suddenly, “BOOOOOOOOOOOYAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

                The last thing Shego saw before she fainted was Stoppable decked out in a gnarly-looking pair of shoes and flying through the air at light speed.

****************

- To be concluded...

Chapter 3

Title: Shackled by Love

 

              The first thing Kim saw when she came to was her mom’s tear streaked face.  Like any child, seeing her mother cry in front of her was a scary thing.  Parent’s didn’t cry, least of all her mom.  Mom was... Mom, a rock, a brain surgeon, one cool customer who didn’t bat an eye over anything.

                “What’s wrong, Mom?”

                Well, at least that’s what Kim wanted to ask.  Once she started talking, she noticed an oxygen mask pulled over her mouth and nose, muffling her speech. 

                “Ssssh,” whispered Mrs. Dr. Possible, “It’s ok honey, everything’s fine now.”

                Everything’s fine now?  What was wrong to begin with?  Why was she here?  Where was here?

                The rising panic in her daughter’s eyes forced back the elder Possible’s grief.  “Don’t worry about it.  You’ll have plenty of time later to-”

                Agitated, Kim pulled off her mask and interrupted, “Mom, tell me why you’re crying.”

                Gently but sternly, her mother replaced the oxygen mask.  “I’ll tell you if you keep the mask on and stay in bed.  Promise?”

                Promise.  Kim’s heart skipped at the word, but why? 

                “Do you remember the mission you and Ron went on this afternoon?”

                No.  Kim shook her head and furrowed up her brow.

                “Honey, it’s normal.  You’ll get the memories back eventually...”

                What was normal?  And eventually?  When was eventually?  The words coming out of her mom’s mouth went in one ear and out the other as she racked her brain for remembrances of today.  Felt like trying to slurp up the last vestiges of an Icee with that inept red straw but that never discouraged Kim.

                If anything, failure motivated her.

 

 

*****************

 

 

                Torn tendons.  Crushed metacarpals.  Severe lacerations.  And the scariest part?  The last line:

                Nerve damage.

                Shego glanced at the cast immobilizing her right forearm, wrist, and hand.  With the medication wearing off, her body protested against the injuries and subsequent surgeries.  Apparently, her body didn’t feel like including her hand anymore because she couldn’t feel it. 

                Damn, that Killer Bebe did a number on her.

                Nerve damage.

                The two words seemed to echo through her quiet, one patient room.  She wasn’t a doctor, but nerve damage equated to bad things, namely body parts being useless if extensive enough.  Guess she wasn’t so invincible after all; guess she and Kimmie weren’t the deadliest things on two feet.

                Nerve damage--the price she paid for losing.

                It could’ve been worse though.  Kimmie could’ve died and the world would’ve blamed her for it.  Could see the headline now: “Thief Murders Kim Possible.”  She’d have everyone in the world hunting her down for an unthinkable crime she’d never commit.  But things didn’t happen that way.  Kimmie was going to be ok, at least, as ok as a person with a severe concussion could be.  Stoppable saved the day with his monkey kung-fu and the nerd’s shoes. 

                Shego sighed.

                What kind screwed up world was this?  She got nerve damage and Stoppable got medieval on something.  Ron “Buffoon” Stoppable not only defeated something both she AND Kimmie could barely dent but also had the wherewithal to get the two of them into a hospital. 

                And there was another thing: hospitals.  Wherever there were hospitals, there were records.  Whenever anyone pulled up Shego’s records, there would be GJ.  Seeing how much attention GJ put on her today, an arrest looked to be in her future.

                Escaping with one hand would be a challenge.

                A timid knock drew Shego’s eyes to the door.  Without her consent, it opened a tiny crack, enough to allow a single annoying blonde head in.

                “Shego, you awake?”

                “No, Stoppable, I sleep with my eyes open.”

                “Oh,” he blinked, impressed, “Wicked.  I’ll just... uh... let you sleep.”

                The closest object to her left--a plastic bedpan--went flying into his forehead.  “I was being sarcastic, dufus!”

                Ron was a simple man.  Being a simple man, he didn’t quite know what to make of the situation.  While Shego was now certifiably awake and cognizant, the scowl and violent behavior told him chit-chat wasn’t a good idea right.  Thus, the quagmire: ditch Shego and face her wrath later or face her wrath now.

                Ron swallowed the lump in his throat and scooted into the room.  “Sorry about waking you up but I wanted to-”

                “Gloat over your victory?”

                Um, “Huh?”

                “Gloat.”  Shego slouched down into the too-thin hospital sheets.  “It’s what people do when they win.”

                “Win?  What did I win?”

                “Don’t act stupid, Stoppable.  You saved Kimmie, destroyed something the two of us couldn’t touch, and hauled in my sorry butt.  You’ve won.”

                “About that robot,” chuckled Ron nervously, “I didn’t exactly, well, you know, ‘destroy’ it.”

                “You’re telling me that thing decided to leave us alone?”

                “Kinda.”

                Shego had on her best “gimme a break, I’m not stupid” glare.

                “See, it kinda retreated when GJ’s helicopters flew in.”

                Great.  “GJ,” Shego groaned.  With a odd, uncomfortable twist, she threw the covers over her head.  “Exactly what I need to finish my shitty day.  You’re just here to rub it in, aren’t you?”

                “Wha?  No, I came here to say thank you.”

                “Thank me for what?  Making you look like a superhero?”

                “For saving KP!” yelled a fed up Ron.  “It might seem strange to you, but when you do something good, people tend to appreciate it.  If you weren’t there, the doctors say another knock to Kim’s head would’ve given her permanent brain damage.  Even worse, that Killer Bebe could’ve... could’ve...”

                “Could’ve killed her,” Shego finished quietly.

                He dropped his shoulders and hung his head.  “Yeah, and I’m suppose to be part of Team Possible.  I’m suppose to be the one helping KP, but I let her down.  Instead of watching out for her, I was running around that oil factory like an idiot, lost.  I kinda... I just...”

                Wiping a tear from his cheek, he sighed, “I’m thankful you were there when I wasn’t.”

                She pulled back the covers, enough to reveal one green eye.  Before her was a pitiable person and not the arrogant showoff she’d envisioned him to be.  He looked genuinely miserable, about as miserable as Shego herself.  Maybe he was sincere.  Maybe misery loved company.  Maybe she wanted him out of her room. 

                Whatever the reason, “You’re welcome.”

                The two words tripped and stumbled out of her mouth, but nonetheless they sounded sincere.  Sincere, not quite the word to be associating with one fire throwing, foul tempered thief.  Ron chuckled softly.  “KP was right.”

                Intrigued, she crept further out of her cloth cocoon.  “What was she right about?”

                “That she can’t see you taking over the world anymore.”

                Anger bubbled into her mind to replace quietude.  “So the two of you think I’m a has-been, washed-up softie?”

                “No,” he replied, backing away as a cold sweat broke, “I mean, an evil person wouldn’t save KP, you know?  And, like, evil people are the kind of people who take over the world.  You’re still evil, just not Evil with a capital ‘E.’”

                “The more I listen to you, the more I want to hurt you.”

                “How about I shut up now?”

                “Smart choice.”

                The covers, her barrier to the world, slinked back over head.  The entire scenario felt somewhat childish to Ron, but was he about to voice it?  No.  However hurt Shego was,  he still feared her.  Without Wade’s shoes to aid him (along his own Mystical Monkey Powers not fully mastered), the chances of him getting a nice face full of green plasma tethered on the high to almost-certain range.  Besides, he was pretty sure picking a fight with a patient--even if said patient was an internationally wanted criminal--wouldn’t be tolerated in a hospital.

                And he only had one more thing to ask Shego.

                Summoning up the last of his courage while quietly shuffling back to the door, Ron broached the question which brought him in here to begin with.  Oh, he wanted to thank Shego, but something else lingered on his mind, something far more personal and quizzical.

                “Why did you do it?”

                Rustling, a turn of the blanketed lump, and silence.  Christmas changed things between them, between all of them, but had it really changed them to the point of the self-sacrificing protectiveness Shego showed?  Just between Ron himself and Shego (and by extension, Drakken), not much transpired except a better understanding of each other’s already well observed quirks.  Something happened with Kim and Shego, something much deeper, of that much Ron knew.  What that something was he had no idea, but whatever it was, it couldn’t have been because of Christmas dinner.  People didn’t go from deadly rival to saviors like that, at least no one in real life did. 

                Not that Ron minded the sudden change in heart--without Shego, Kim wouldn’t have been alive.  Whatever the villainess did from now on, the benevolent act and this profound moment would always influence Ron’s perception of her.  And as curious as he was, as much as he cared for Kim, he needed to know what that influence was.

                He needed to know how to treat his best friend’s worst enemy. 

                His back hit the door.  Took him the better part of a minute to get here and in that time, Shego lay as quiet and still as a slumbering lioness.  He closed his eyes and sighed to himself.  He’d been pushy, way more pushy than he normally was, but he got that way when Kim’s life was involved.  Shego was probably mad at him, then to top everything off, whatever pain medication the doctors gave her probably knocked her out. 

                Wouldn’t be getting his answer today, maybe not ever.

                He wrapped his hand around the doorknob and-

                “I promised her.”

                The blankets were off again.  He looked at her expectantly, waiting for more of the story.

                Shego ran her good hand through her tussled hair.  “I do a lot of things, but I don’t break promises.  She wanted every day to be like these last two weeks.  It can’t happen, so I promised her the next best thing: as long as she wanted me, I’d be there for her.  ”

                Their eyes met and wouldn’t break away, Ron searching for the truth and Shego challenging him to find any falsity.  Finally, “That’s an awfully big promise.”

                “Kimmie’s an awfully pushy girl.”

                “Why though?  What happened between you and KP?  One day she throws you into the Middleton River and the next she says you’re ‘sensitive and conscientious.’”

                “It’s simple, Stoppable.  What else can turn enemies into friends?  What else comes from so much pointless fighting?  What else is left when you can’t hate someone anymore?  What happens when two people finally realize they’re more similar than they ever thought possible?”

 

 

*****************

 

 

                “Dr. Director.”

                “Special Agent Load, what can I do for you?”

                “Actually, you can call me Wade.”

                “That’s hardly the appropriate greeting for an upstanding member of Global Justice.”

                “I know, which is why I’m quitting.”

                “Excuse me?”

                “I’m quitting.  Last mission was-”

                “An aberration for us.  I assure you, agent, that we strive for the best methods and results every time.”

                “Well, it’s just that after doing some thinking, I’ve kinda realized that I joined GJ for all the wrong reasons.”

                “Joining for the wrong reasons doesn’t preclude one from continuing on the right path.”

                “Maybe, but it got one of my friends hurt.  I can’t sit here and let it happen again.”

                “Ms. Possible puts herself at risk every time she responds to a tip on her website.  You cannot hold yourself or us accountable for unforeseeable events.”

                “No, I can.  I’m suppose to be helping her and giving her information so she doesn’t get hurt.  Instead today, I led her into a trap that almost got her killed.”

                “You’re failing to see the bigger picture.  Dr. Drakken was arrested, Shego will be jailed once the hospital releases her, Ms. Possible is projected to make a full recovery, and we’ve reclaimed a host of stolen goods from Drakken’s lair.  Mission objectives accomplished and the world is a safer place.”

                “But the way we made this all up just to get Kim away from Shego-”

                “It was necessary.  It still is necessary.  Shego is a dangerous and manipulative individual who can’t be allowed to roam free.”

                “She didn’t seem that bad when she came to Kim’s rescue.”

                “What did I tell you about Shego, Agent Load?  Dangerous and manipulative.   Shego only appears to be apathetic, but underneath the act is a devious mastermind who will stoop to any low to achieve her goal of world domination.  We did the right thing for Ms. Possible’s sake.”

                “I just... I can’t...”  Wade took a deep breath.  “Don’t try to convince me otherwise.  I’m quitting and that’s that.”

                “You are aware of our nondisclosure policies, correct?”

                “What?”

                “Global Justice maintains the right to monitor your activity at any time to prevent classified information from being leaked.”

                “Wait, I don’t remember-”

                “And should we deem such information to be shared, you can be brought to a tribunal before the United Nations for endangering the countries involved.”

                Wade sat before his monitor, mouth agape.  “Are you threatening me?”

                “I’m informing you of our policies and I’m asking that you reconsider your choices.”

                “That’s dirty.  That’s... that’s... evil!”

                “Not evil, Agent Load, justice at its finest.”

 

 

*****************

 

 

                The memories slowly filtered back in.  The Killer Bebe, the talk with Ron, the phone call with Monique, and the morning with Shego.  All of it began to come back into focus one small fragment at a time, all of it except for the disastrous fight itself.  Took the better part of the day’s remains to even fit together any coherent picture.  Though the recovery eased her mom’s worry, it wasn’t enough to convince said parental unit that she didn’t need to stay in the hospital overnight for observation. 

                After such a terrible day, Kim wanted to curl up in her own bed with her pandaroo and not have strangers milling around her.

                That was exactly why she snuck out of her room in the dead of the night to seek out Shego.  They needed to talk; actually, Shego needed to talk and Kim needed to listen.  According to Ron and Wade, Shego was there for the concussion and seizure.  She also got the worst of the Killer Bebe’s fury, though what that entailed no one would tell her.  People keeping quiet meant bad things in Kim’s experience.  She needed to know what happened in the time that was robbed from her.  She needed to know how Shego was.

                Not to mention she needed to see Shego, to be near her and prove everything that the robot and Monique said wasn’t true.

                With stealthiness born from world-saving experience, Kim slipped into Shego’s darkened room.  She waited a beat for her sharp eyes to adjust to the darkness.  A lump rested in the bed, but even from this far away, she knew the lump wasn’t Shego.

                Dread entering her heart, she walked to covers and pulled them back to reveal a cache of pillows and a folded piece of paper.  Eyes watering and hand shaking, Kim snared the missive.  For a second, she considered not opening it, the deepest part of her soul saying it had to be terrible news. 

                However, curiosity won out.  The paper opened with a soft crinkle, and inside, a terse message scrawled unneatly stared straight up at her.

                “BRB.  Promise.”

                It was then that the door opened to admit a frazzled looking doctor and a handful of people Kim recognized as GJ agents.

 

 

*****************

 

 

                “Hello?”

                “We need to talk.”

                “Who is this?  How did you get this number?”

                “I’m hurt, Betty.  Did I move out of your most wanted list or something?”

                “Shego.  You should be-”

                “In a pair of handcuffs?  I have other ideas.  Besides, I know your style too well.  Always catch them off guard, right?  Why arrest a semi-conscious person when you can get her in her sleep after the medication’s sunken in?  You’re predictable.”

                “What do you want?”

                “I want you to leave Kimmie alone.”

                A sharp, bitter laugh sparked into the receiver.  “And why should I even consider your demand?  You’re dangerous Shego, a hardened criminal with few scruples and an unquenchable greed.  On the other hand, Kim Possible is GJ’s most promising resource.  I’ll be damned if I let you continue manipulating and seducing her.  I haven’t forgotten what you tried to do to a previous contractor of mine.”

                “I paid for my mistakes.  There’s no one else who regrets what happened to B more than me.”

                “Tell that to her family.  In fact, tell that to someone who cares.  My stance on you will never change: you should be locked away from society.”

                “What if I’m willing to offer you a deal?”

                “... Go on.”

                “I’m not stupid, Betty.  I know what happened today.  You tried to kill me, silence me so you could replace me.  You set Kimmie up, tried to make me look like a heartless user with that Killer Bebe you dragged up out of nowhere.  You wanted to hurt her so she’d never even think of me again.  Great plan, you just didn’t imagine losing control of your little toy.”

                “Is there a point to this conversation?”

                “Toys you play with, and when you’re done, you throw them away.  Kimmie isn’t a toy--she deserves to be loved and cherished.  That’s why I don’t want you contacting her ever again.  I don’t want you interfering with her life, giving her missions to go on, or watching what she does.  I don’t want her to have anything to do with GJ.  She’s too good and innocent for the business.”

                “So I was right about you.  You’re a control freak who-”

                “I said I don’t want her to have anything to do with you or GJ.  I said I wanted you to leave her alone.  I never said anything about her saving the world or helping cats out of trees.”

                “That’s how you start, Shego, one little thing at a time.  You’re corrupting her like you did Ms. Summers.”

                “Fine, I am.  Take my words any way you want to; I don’t give a shit what you think.  Point is, I’m willing to make a deal with you if you’re willing to accept my terms.”

                “Depends on what you’re offering.”

                “Information about WEE.”

                “How do I know your information is good?  What if I already know what you have to tell me?  After all, Gemini IS my twin brother.”

                “I’m talking about informants, weapons suppliers, bases, and hideouts.  I’m talking about places I’ve been, people I’ve seen, and stuff I can get from him at the drop of a hat.”

                “That’s it?  Shego, I’m the head of Global Justice.  We have undercover agents in WEE’s ranks which can tell me all of these things.”

                “And I can tell you who in Global Justice is working for WEE.”

                “Hmph, impossible!”

                “You keep thinking that and we’ll see which twin comes out on top.”

                “So that’s all you have for me?  You drop a few names and expect me to give up on my most effective contractor?  Who do you think I am?  Drakken?”

                “What can I do to change your mind?”

                “How about an exchange: Kim Possible for you.”

                “What?”

                “Both you and Ms. Possible have roughly the same hand-to-hand skills.  Both of you are well-versed in espionage and infiltration.  She is off-the-charts in terms of creativity, ingenuity, and stubborn motivation; you have your vast knowledge of the criminal underbelly and those impressive powers.  If you want me to leave Ms. Possible alone, I will, but only if you are willing to fill her shoes.”

                “You... want my freedom for hers?”

                “You say you’re not manipulating her.  You say she should be cherished and loved.  Time to prove to me that you aren’t the criminal scumbag I know you are.”

                “What will I have to do?”

                “Things Ms. Possible does now when we call her in.  I’m sure you’re intimately aware of what I’m referring to.”

                “For how long?”

                A sinister pause.  “For as long as you don’t want me to contact Ms. Possible.”

                A frightened pause.  “Only if you clean my record too.”

                “Done.”

                “Five by five.”

                “Why do you say that?  What does it mean?”

                Click.

 

 

*****************

 

 

                BRB.  Be right back.  Seemed like so long ago Kim first saw those words.  The holiday mood finally ended, school finally started, things had finally settled down, and still no sign of Shego. 

                Slinging her backpack to the floor, the dejected redhead spun the combination to her locker.  33, 7, 2.  Click.  Out tumbled a gym bag (for cheerleading practice) and a fistful of mission gear (grappling hooks, rocket shoes, pens disguised as pencils disguised as lasers disguised as electromagnets).  To her left, Shego’s photo smirked at her, cocky and alluring all in the same breath.

                “You promised,” whispered Kim as she stuffed her backpack into the locker.

                Shego promised to be right back.  Shego promised to be there whenever Kim wanted her to be.  Shego promised she never broke her promises, but after all this time, after the world seemed to have moved on with post-Christmas life, she wasn’t here.  She didn’t even call to offer an explanation.

                A part of Kim felt abandoned (Who was Shego anyway?  Thief?  Girlfriend?  Superheroine?  Sidekick?  Villain?  Liar?  Savior?).  Another part of her felt worried (Where was Shego?  Was she hurt?  Ok?  Arrested?  Plotting another heist with Drakken?).  Her whole being felt jumpy and queasy as she refused to accept that their time together had been nothing. 

                Nothing, like what that stupid Killer Bebe said it was.

                The mocking voice sounding so much like Shego crept up on her again.  “Say goodnight, Kimmie.  I’m sad I didn’t get to fuck your little virgin brains out, but trust me, I’ll get over it.”

                She slammed the locker closed.

                “Whoa, KP, I know school is a drag but...”

                “I’m just out of it, Ron.”  Her long gait aimed the two of them in the gym’s general direction.  “School, parents, saving the world, you know how it is.”

                Her best friend in the entire world smiled at her.  “It’s more about Shego, isn’t it?”

                “No.  I mean, yes, kinda.”

                “Hey, no worries KP, I know.”

                The sentence froze her midstep.  “Know what?”

                “Why you’re stressing over her.  She told me that night in the hospital.”

                Wham.  The truth came out of nowhere and slammed Kim in the face.  Ron knew.  Ron KNEW.  Her best friend in the entire world knew she was dating her worst enemy in the entire world!  “Ron, it’s not-”

                “No need to explain, KP.  I mean, I’m still a little wigged out at the whole thing, but I’m ok with it.  That’s why Rufus and me have been MIA for a while.  Had some time to think, you know?  ”

                “No, I don’t know.  What did she say to you?  Do you know where she is?  What’s wrong with me?  Why can’t I stop talking about her?”

                A comforting arm wrapped around her shoulder.  “Ok, we’re ditching cheerleading practice and heading to Bueno Nacho.  Nacos, soda, and talk--it’ll be like old times again!”

                “Old times?”

                “Well, old times like last semester.”

                Without waiting for her approval, Ron steered her to the back of school, exactly the opposite of where they wanted to go.  Getting to their favorite hangout hotspot was faster from the front, so, “Why are we going into the parking lot?”

                Ron just smiled wider at her and pushed open the double doors.  Sunlight filtered into the dreary back exit.  Cars belonging to teachers and some students lined row after row of spaces.  Parked in the “No Parking” zone was a black Jaguar gleaming in a furious glamour, almost blinding.  On the hood lay Shego, decked out in black jeans, a stylish green coat, and a pair of sunglasses.

                For a moment, Kim thought she’d lost her mind.  Wasn’t until Shego lazily rolled her head to the side and lifted up her glasses did reality set in.  “Well, well, look what the sidekick decided to bring out.”

                Kim stared at Ron, her eyes asking (pleading) for an explanation.

                “She called me last night,” he shrugged, “Asked me to help surprise you.”

                “And you’re ok with this?  Ok with us?”

                “Really.”

                “Really really?”

                “Really really.”

                “Hey,” interrupted Shego, a frown on her face, “Don’t I even get a hello?”

                She got more than a hello.  She got a crushing huge and a face full of red hair.  She got an ecstatic squeal and a grin that could and would light her days to come.  Freedom... what did it mean without purpose?  For the first time in a long time, Shego put the welfare of somebody else above her own, and know what?  It felt good.

                This felt good. Felt good to be appreciated and loved.  Felt good to be happy.  Felt uncomfortable without her freedom, but being with Kimmie felt too good to pass up.

                This was what she needed.  Years ago, a lifetime ago, she had something like this but she threw it away.  She broke her promises, got jealous, and in the end, had nothing to show for her pain.  It’d been a long road since those darkest days, learned a lot and seen many things.  Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine she’d see another like B, another equal, another complimentary spirit, another pure heart who only wanted to heal the world, but here she was.

                Kimmie.  A second chance.  A new test to see if her experiences taught her anything.  Kimmie.

                It was the Chosen Two all over again.

                “Hey Kimmie.”

                “Hey Shego.”  Kim looked down and reached for Shego’s wounded hand, the one supported by a sophisticated looking brace.  “Are you...”

                “Ok?  I’ve been better.”

                “There’s so much I want to ask and-”

                A kiss, light and quieting, covered Kim’s lips.  With a mischievous glimmer in her eye, Shego backed away as quickly as she moved in.  “You’ll get your story time, Princess.  I’ve got a lot to tell you.”

                “Hey!” yelled Ron, waving from afar, “What about me?”

                “Hop in the back, Stoppable.  Just make sure you don’t get footprints on the leather.  We’re going for a little ride.”

***************

- The End.

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