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Attitude Adjustment to the Supreme
by: P.D. Pirl o2-27-05 - 03-08-05

The future was outside the window of Kim Possible.

Shego placed a gloved hand upon the murky glass, and with a slow, careful stroke, she cleared the dust and grime birthed by months of neglect and abandon. Left there were but small patches of dirt clouds, yet, again, she brushed upon that dirty, dirty window her already blemished hand; and only when the crystal brimmed with the dim glare of the moonlight did she find gratification.

The mirror of her smiled, and those green eyes glittered with mirth as she witnessed a dream, her dream, take yet another step towards conquest. The abolishment and destruction of Middleton was the final phase of her plan for world domination, and from that fall of a former power, Shegoton and the Supreme One would rise to rule over the whole of the world. It was only fitting that she would end her journey of world conquer at the very place she began, because the path she took was a circular road, as was this world she was to reign supreme over; and with this meeting point of beginning and end, her excursion was to be completed, and she would become successful.

"Do you see, Kimmie? Do you see that I've won?" She laughed soon after, because her attempt alone at such a pitiful charade was absurd, more so, the all too real emotions that came with it. She chose to laugh, because that, at least, would offer her a moment of peace, and perhaps, this tenacious foolery of hers would be granted eternal pardon: to forget; to forget that the very person whom she wanted most to listen to her gloat and brag, and whom she wanted most to watch her parade and dance in triumph, was gone; to forget that, if it had been otherwise and that person was about, she would have nothing to pride, because she would not have won.

So, she cheated; she used something even the Kim Possible could not win over: Time.

Though the basic stratagem stemmed from a mutual agreement between Monkey Fist, Duff Killigan and Dr. Drakken, it was Shego who was able to make good use of time control. The three villains looked back to the past to defeat their heroine foe, Kim Possible, by rewriting her childhood with misery and torment; they were certain, then, that if Kim was to grow up under abusive conditions, she would not become the teen heroine who was the bane of their villain existence. It wasn't a mystical wonder to Shego why the trio was never able to defeat Kim, and chances were, they never would.

What those villains failed to understand of Kim, if they do at all, was that Kim drew her strength and determination from her desire to protect and defend people; in that sense, and every, Kim Possible was, indeed, a real and true heroine. Given hindrance and aid by her sidekicks, Rufus and Ron, and keeping in mind the person who sought for her help, Kim wouldn't settle for anything less than success; she would not be satisfied without the guarantee of everyone's safety, the capture of the perpetrators, and certainly, she wouldn't be able to consider a mission complete without stating her infamous response to gratitude: "No big."

She said that because they owed her nothing but a small favor of transporation: for Kim to save another just like them.

But Kim became too dependent on the drawback and alleviation, most especially that from her sidekicks, Ron and Rufus. With the Time Monkey, Shego removed that one, crucial element that made Kim Possible such a volatile and deadly foe, and with it, Kim lost her invincibility; the villainous dream of taking over the world was no longer an implausibility, and was realized by her, Shego, who was, ironically, a mere sidekick of the self-proclaimed evil mastermind, Dr. Drakken.

Shego was hardly a megalomaniac, for the same reasons she gave up her heroic lifestyle: she refused to burden herself with the responsibility and obligations that came with a position of such high regard and importance. Being Dr. Drakken's sidekick gave her the freedom she wanted, but if ever that comfort was to be threatened, she would not hesitate to garner the next best thing, which was to crumble the system and build a new one by her own terms and laws.

It was almost funny how she was driven by the same thing she used against Kim: Time.

She knew well that her leisure time was but numbered, and she vowed to herself that if that change was to come, she would not fall below the circumstance. She even went as far as putting to service her former employer, Dr. Drakken, as well as the other two villains, Monkey Fist and Duff Killigan, to assist with her quest for world domination. After she rendered paralyzed the great influential powers of the world, and gathered to her side those willing to serve under her, she began her colonization of the entirety of the world and the people in it by means of a simple, yet effective procedure, one she called: Attitude Adjustment.

This time, the idea was born from her own mind, and it took Dr. Drakken's vast knowledge in the scientific field to create the Obedience Collars, the key to Shego's system; though he was more infamous for his failure and incompetent inventions than his genius, Shego found out that, given the proper persuasion, he was able to produce an impressive and effective instrument: one that robbed the human mind of free will and implanted the instinct to hail and cower before the prowess and wonder of the Supreme One.

Monkey Fist, Shego used to train combatants, humans and monkeys alike, in the event of a rebellion, which Shego actually thought feasible. For Duff Killigan, she assigned him to build the defenses around the fortress that was to be erected in the center of Middleton- rather, Shegoton. While attempting to formulate a new type of bomb, Duff Killigan fell victim to an accident; the fatality of the unfortunate incident proved to be severe, and in order to live, the remainder of his body was housed in a robotic casing that enabled his brain to continue functioning.

Shego never suited the three villains with Obedience Collars, instead, she used Discipline Collars; she didn't give them the luxury of ignorance, instead, she chose to remind them again and again that it was she, a sidekick, a henchwoman, who stole their dreams and ambitions, and prevailed amongst all the villains.

Her scheme was proceeding without delay, and without fault, yet, she forgot to take into account one thing: Kim Possible. Only when she had banished Kim in the erratic stream of Time did she realize that Kim was a fundamental aspect of her ideal world of freedom and complacency. She would never admit that she had, absently it may be, taught the heroine the nature of a villain through fighting unfairly, just as she had with the Time Monkey; however, she would admit, to herself, at least, that she enjoyed watching the teen heroine grow stronger and much more aware and intelligent after every encounter.

Kim never complained of being handicapped, instead, she readily faced every dirty challenge tossed at her, and she always emerged as the victor. Shego had grown to respect the nobility and honor Kim Possible carried with her; what she didn't know, if not, what she didn't acknowledge back then was that the respect had blossomed to admiration, and with that admiration came a sense of attachment and dependence. She became accustomed to having her every action, considering it was anything remotely against the law, retaliated by Kim Possible, and though she would eagerly indulge in combat, she was more interested with how Kim was going to go about the obstacle set before her, and how she was going to leap over to triumph.

But even Kim Possible did not have an answer against Time, yet still, Shego found herself waiting.

Shego was waiting to be overthrown, waiting for the Supreme One and Shegoton to fall.

She was waiting to lose.

She was waiting for her.

Shego was waiting for Kim.

No one stood to oppose her, because there was not one person in the world who would brave her ire and tempt her wrath- none of them was Kim Possible. But she did not feel this dismay at the beginning, because even Shego was not immune to the euphoria from so much power and control; that rapture, however, lasted as brief as it was high, and soon she found herself impatient from waiting for what she thought inevitable: Kim Possible giving to her yet another loss.

She had given them a chance, that computer genius friend of Kim's, her family and even Ron's parents; it was partly her reason for making Middleton her final target: to give those people the opportunity to establish their own mutinous brigade. She remembered that Monkey Fist objected to her decision, and indicted her an arrogant fool for allowing even a sliver of a chance for those people to revolt; she laughed, then, as she never had in months, and almost revealed to her loyal minions that, not only did she offer such a dangerous convenience, she heartily hoped for its fruition.

If not Kim Possible to best her, then let it be Kim Possible's family and friends.

After all, she had already settled for second best once, why not again?

But, it was just a fail-safe, as was the bearing of the Supreme One and Shegoton.

This empty barren house was her sole, corporeal connection to Kim, and like this house, that bond was buried in black dusts that slowly ate away at the precious seam; under the deluge of qualm and nostalgia, that thinning thread was about to tear, and she fought desperately to hold those ties together, as she struggled in vain with the withering hope that Kim would come back, that Kim would come to her: and save her from the Hell that was Shegoton and the Devil that was the Supreme One.

There was still time, bleak it may be, for Kim to win this Time Battle, but Shego was beginning to think that Kim may be too late.

She said to herself, when she stepped inside Kim's room, that any moment, the teen heroine would leap through the glass and shatter her empire to the ground; that this would become just another of Shego's trials which Kim eventually overcame. But there was no Kim to banter, no Kim to provoke - there was no heroine for this villainess, there was no Kim for Shego. So immense, the void within her, that she had not the strength and will left to deny that she would rather lose to Kim Possible for all eternity, than to lose Kim Possible herself.

Victory, to Shego, was meaningless, and it became of significance only when Kim took an interest in her failure. But in this place, there were only civilians who were congested with cowardice and reeked of docility, none she thought worthy of yielding from her a victory, nor were any of them capable; because only Kim Possible could, and would, deliver to her failure.

Where she stood now, with her hand on a piece of glass that was clean only from inside, she felt that Kim still existed, and she was to wait for her, because Kim would come. Those servants of her, rather, of the Supreme One, who wreaked chaos in the wasted city, and took captive the people so as to subject them through the Attitude Adjustment process, Kim would deal with them accordingly for their crimes. Behind this window, to hope for Kim was more than a foolish yearning.

The future was outside the window of Kim Possible, and by Shego's command, it was going to stay that way.

---

In her wake, the Supreme One left a painting of green and black, and encompassed both human and building alike with her colors. Her verdict were as diverse and clashing as were the shades of green and black, for she would either chose to assimilate into her order said object or person in question, or to eliminate them. Club Banana, she renamed appropriately to Club Shego, while she burned down Beuno Nacho, and she had transformed Middleton High to The Attitude Adjustment Center.

She arrived shortly before the students of the former school were ushered into the revamped rooms. They were as compliant as they were when the Supreme One's lackeys barged into the schools and packed everyone in one of the large buildings in the city. A flaw in Dr. Drakken's Obedience Collars was frailty; the devices did not last longer than a few weeks, and they should be replaced, not repaired. She trusted her followers enough to carry out this simple task without her supervision, but to ease her paranoia, she would contact them monthly and demand for a report of the conditions in her other colonies.

Shego had never witnessed the actual operations that take place in the centers, because she had to attend to other concerns. Now, however, she had finally reached that level of freedom and comfort, at least, attained the closest plane to that sublime haven she knew she will never again live in; she has the luxury of indulging, and the first in her list of options was to enjoy an Attitude Adjustment session.

"Oh, please, I can fall in line on my own! You're just using that as an excuse to touch me!"

When Shego heard that voice, recognition struck her, and resonated like a soft, incessant twinkle that streamed her back to the past. The timbre of the voice laced with another's, then the two strings of melodic chimes melted, and there was but one voice that spoke to her: distinct in its vibrancy, and musical with vigor; she patterned in her mind a face to match: a soft, angelic facial structure framed by tame hair of a fiery shade; green eyes, bright and passionate, even with tears; full, pinkish lips with an irresistible pout; and a name that, upon mention, would invoke in every mind these very features.

Kim Possible.

But the mirage blurred, then rippled into another face, and another voice.

With a simple turn of her head, Shego saw her, the young woman who was not Kim Possible, yet she was reminiscent of Kim, as would a block of clay molded by an amateur artist to double a masterpiece created by an idol, by a God; yet the artist failed to finish the doppelganger, and left the fragmentary to exist in the shadow of its perfect twin. Even the allure, Shego noted, as she continued to scrutinize the young woman: noted the pleasing, cursive bodice; the gray-green eyes that masked with conceit the frailty beneath; the limp, coarse look of her faded brown hair; and the scorn and irate that seemed irremovable from her face.

Though her curiosity was ignited, Shego opted to speculate, as though she was waiting for this girl to do or say something evocative of Kim. She allowed for her incompetent, lecherous minion to continue with the clearly unnecessary groping so as to goad further the already furious young woman. She saw in the faces of their audience that they were at least casual acquaintances of the girl, yet they stood frozen their places and let the man violate her to such a degree.

"Bastard!" The girl cried, and promptly slapped the large man across the face. Her cheeks were red with anger and embarrassment, but she fought to keep a stern face and an even stiffer resolve. The cheerleader outfit she wore was torn, which left exposed her shoulder and part of her right breast. She was oblivious of everything and everyone around her, save for that man and of what may result if he were to have his way with her.

"Now, now, Little Missy, we don't want the Supreme One to get mad at us, do we?" The man said in a drunk, lethargic tone that crawled with dirt and sex, more than implying to the girl that he enjoyed what she had done, so much so that he was jeering her to strike him once more. In truth, he wasn't aware that the Supreme One was, indeed, present; this was one of his pitiful threats to terrify women he had taken an interest in. A woman in utter fright simply delighted him, and the more uncooperative and strong-willed the woman, the more pleasurable it was to break her; and he would certainly enjoy crushing the life out of this young one.

"I wouldn't care if you were the Supreme One," she spat, teeth gritted and brows furrowed deeply, "I won't be treated like some two-bit hussy by anyone! Not by a low-life scum like you, and not by a retarded freak of a slave driver!" Those words dripped with so much feeling and pride that she appeared to stagger under such a heavy, emotional weight. She grew weak under the pressure and the stress, but still, she held onto that purity and honesty, and found some composure.

The man's small eyes gleamed with malice, "So, you think you're so fucking special, don't you?" he muttered, as he slowly began to make his way towards the girl. With a quick swing of his arm, he shoved the brunette aside and slammed her into the school lockers. Her whimper was absolute harmony to his ears, and it drove him to push her again and again just so he could hear the delicious sound of her pain. "Since you're so special," he sneered, and reached for her; he pulled her back on her feet by her hair, his hideous, filthy face now inches from her own, "I'm going to fuck you right here."

The young woman stiffened then, but somehow, before another pathetic cry was to leave her throat, she swallowed the fear, and glared at him with those once deadened eyes which now burned with abhorrence, repulse and unrelenting dignity. Though, as that repulsive face drew nearer, she found herself cursing her school mates for being such cowards, and she found herself wishing for something- anything that would stop this; wishing for someone, or anyone, to save her.

He began to laugh, that hideous man, in celebration of yet another victim to add to his already long list of broken women. "This new world order is fucking gre- ACK!" He choked, blood instantly spilling in thick globs from his open mouth, and only then did he feel the scorching heat which flared from his midsection. He bobbed his head down, already faint from blood loss, and those beady eyes widened at the frightening spectacle of an enflamed gloved hand impaled through his stomach. With another hiss of agony, he twisted his neck so he could catch at least a glimpse of his murderer, whom he already knew was none other than the Supreme One.

Shego's indifferent expression quickly flashed to malevolence, "I don't approve of name-dropping," she whispered in an eerily calm and placid voice. Her lips twisted from a nefarious grin to a thin line that gave away no emotion as she balled her hand to a fist and intensified the green flame, wrangling sorry sobs of apology and groveling from the dying man. She called away her fire and pulled back her hand when his knees began to buckle, and eyed with disinterest as he writhed and squirmed on the ground; instead, her attention was on the young woman who was again pushed to the lockers and roughly fell to the floor with a stifled wail. She skipped past the man's body and kneeled in front of the girl, her face once again relaxed. "That's the trouble of having serial rapists for gofers," she quipped, "hackneyed dialogue."

The girl, however, did not find any humor in what she said, and instead, she covered her already bared breast with her arms and glowered hate at her. "I was doing fine without your help," she huffed, her cheeks beginning to redden again, "so, don't expect me to thank you for doing something I could have done myself."

"It didn't look that way from where I was standing, Princess." Shego retorted with a laugh, able to conceal her amazement towards how the brunette was as spiteful as she had been, even though she knew that it was the Supreme One who was before her. "And you're welcome," she added shortly, certain that it would irk the young woman even more.

Cheeks flushed, the brunette barked, "I don't owe you anything!"

"Except maybe your life," Shego responded right after the other girl spoke, and she couldn't help but grin now, "and your virginity." It was incorrigible how this one girl was stirring awake a part of her she thought she had drowned along with the hope of Kim's return and her salvation. "Or was I too late for that one?" She couldn't remember, Kim aside, when she felt so much enjoyment from infuriating someone, because there was none, until this young woman, who was catty and temperamental enough to tease.

But then she was slapped, and that was something Kim would never do. Through the corner of her eye she saw her: still sprawled on the floor, with one arm across her chest and another still high in the air, as though she was confirming to Shego that she, the Supreme One, was just slapped by a high school cheerleader. Still dazed, she turned back to the brunette, and slowly touched near her lips, where she felt a soft throbbing. It wasn't long when she tasted blood, and felt warmth trickle down her chin, but it wasn't enough to rouse her from her stupor as she continued to stare at the girl, her eyes wide with disbelief and shock.

The brunette found no time to be smug, because just as she was about to sneer and hiss yet another snide remark, she was violently struck down, and after she blinked once, the Supreme One was straddling her, her face twisted in fury, and her burning hand hovered nearby. She wanted to snap back as she had with the man earlier, but she was stunned by the nothing she saw in those green eyes, or had there been anything, she didn't understand what it was that flared in those eyes.

The maddening glower dissipated when more of the Supreme One's lackeys came marching, and upon seeing the corpse of their fellow subordinate, they kept a good distance from the Supreme One and her current prey. "Supreme One," a brave one said, his head bowed in respect, "I apologize in behalf of Zag, I assure you that it will never happen again. The rooms have been rigged and are ready for use; shall we go ahead and start with... that one?" He faltered on his last words, afraid to cross the boundary that might cost him his life.

"No," Shego uttered sharply, surely, all the while her gaze never left the girl under her, "what's this one's name?" she asked, completely objectifying the brunette.

"Uhh," the undisputed head of the group stuttered, "we don't know, Supreme One, we never kept records of names."

"Is that so?" Shego hummed, and leaned closer to the flushed young woman, "Then, that means I have to ask for your name, unless," she paused, and smiled, elated by how tense the body was under her and how red that face was, "you want to be called by how everyone else is: 'that one', 'this one', 'it'..."

The brunette scowled and looked away, then, in a low voice, she mumbled, "Bonnie."

Shego's eyes shimmered with glee. "What? I didn't hear what it said."

Bonnie growled and snapped her head back so she would be looking into Shego's eyes, and though she didn't expect for their lips to be at a breath's distance, she held her glare. "Bonnie," she snarled, teeth gritted, "my name is Bonnie, Bonnie Rockwaller, oh, supreme Supreme One." She spat the mock hail with a vicious smirk on her face; so bold was she that she even attempted to wriggle free from under the taller, slightly heavier woman on top of her.

"It's settled, then: leave this one to me," Shego declared, and hid a grin when Bonnie expressed her distaste towards that manner of address, "Miss Bonnie Rockwaller will be going through Attitude Adjustment," she licked her lips and drew close enough so she could bite at the brunette's ear, "to the Supreme." Without breaking that contact, she made a gesture to her minions, and without question, one of them gave to her a set of restraints, used from days before the era of Attitude Adjustment: Forcible Compliance.

---

In this hall where only she and the Supreme One were, Bonnie could hear, with crisp clarity, every ragged breath that tore at her chest. It boiled at the pit of her gut, that terror, which she had been curbing ever since the man attacked her, and now it threatened to wangle free from her constraints; she thought, then, that if she called out to the people who were no longer there, they would come to her and save her. She almost laughed at such an ridiculous notion, because she knew they won't come, no matter how loud she screamed, or how much she begged.

But she came, the Supreme One, and saved her; which begot the question:

"Why did you help me?" Though she didn't manage to query without a quiver in her voice, she felt that it hardly gave away how much of a gelatinous mess she was right now. Her earlobe still tingled from the hard bite the Supreme One had given her earlier, and her face was still considerably red from being exposed, her discomfort so evident it was blatant even through her schooled, but vain attempts at hiding.

"Because he was right, and he still is," Shego purred, this time her breath danced upon Bonnie's dry lips, "you are special." She dropped the heavy chains and shackles to the floor, and her hands drifted in the air, as though there was a thin barrier between her hands and Bonnie's hair; it almost appeared like she was stopping herself from committing, from succumbing to an insatiable passion, but her resistance was wilting; through her trembling it was so vivid how weak she had become. "But," she suddenly hissed, and it was now her tongue that tested her mettle: it snaked passed those black lips and nearly touched Bonnie's own, "you're not as special as her."

"You're not Kim Possible, and you never will be," Shego hummed, her pink tongue already back in her mouth. She inched back a little, so she could have a better view of Bonnie's face, and she could not deny the thrill that crawled along her spine when she saw those wide eyes and that open mouth. Slowly, she placed warm, gloved hands upon each of the brunette's cheeks, and said, "You will never be better than Kim Possible, because there's nothing better than perfection."

"If she's so perfect," Bonnie managed to blurt out, unable to keep her body from shuddering, "then why did she lose to someone like you?" She braced herself, just in case the Supreme One would, again, jump at her and hold an enflamed hand to her face again, but what came to her was a grip on her wrist: the one she used to cover her partial nudity. A whimper slipped from her lips when the Supreme One easily lifted her arm in the air and left bare her body for only her eyes to see.

Shego pressed Bonnie's wrist to her mouth, and gently dug her teeth into the tender flesh, green eyes hungrily taking in the lovely vision of the brunette in tattered clothes. She drew her body closer to Bonnie's, wrapped that one arm around her neck, and rested the side of her face upon that one naked breast. "Kim didn't lose, and I didn't win," she murmured, her breath against the sensitive flesh, which elicited a shuddered sigh and made taut a nipple, "because it's not over, yet."

Gingerly, Bonnie fingered at the black tresses her hand was buried in, and she astounded herself when she found a sliver of tranquility in this brittle embrace. She continued to fondle that silken strands, as though she was soothing the panic within her by reveling in the softness of Shego's hair, and only when the thundering of her heart calmed to a quiet, steady beat did she find that she was able to look at Shego again. Those eyes were regarding her with such fondness that she felt her own eyes soften, but she said nothing, because she didn't know if there was even a need for words, or if there was anything to say at all.

"I'm tired of waiting," Shego mumbled, and nuzzled Bonnie's chest, "so, make me forget."

---

As she hanged by her wrists, Bonnie asked herself what it was that drove her to make the decision that placed her where she was now, and if it was worth such torment. The pull she felt from her arms was excruciating, and if she were to relieve her wrists of weight by standing up, shaking off the stiffness felt like she was ripping muscle; then it would be her legs that would become rigid, and from there, the agonizing cycle would continue.

Somewhere in this dark, empty room, Bonnie knew she was there: watching, listening - waiting for tears, and waiting for sobs; she was waiting for her to give up, to surrender; she was waiting for her to break; she was waiting for her to cry. Yet, whenever Bonnie would feel her eyes water, or her throat quake, she remembered the answer to the question she had been asking herself: here, she had the power over the Supreme One; here, she had control over the Supreme One.

Here, she was Supreme to the Supreme One.

The Supreme One, rather, Shego, knew this, otherwise, Bonnie would not be in this state of numbing, yet poignant surrealism. Though the last of her memory was of herself lying on the floor of a hallway with Shego atop her, she remembered, as her awareness dwindled, Shego's face near hers; her lips moved, but there came no sound, nor could she make out the words. She woke with black in her eyes, or perhaps it was white; either way, she thought she had gone blind. But the obscurity soon faded within the colors that rained on the blank canvas, and painted to her a vision of her shackled wrists.

She didn't dare stir, she didn't dare speak, and she didn't dare fear, because she couldn't; be it from the dreary storm that raged war in her mind, or from the monstrous apathy that greedily consumed the pitiful whims of her body, fear was absent, and dead, in Bonnie. She threw her gaze skywards, followed the trail of thick, metal chain links, and saw that it disappeared into an endless hollow. The sheer brilliance and horror of that nothingness was so unbearable that she had to cast her eyes down and fumble for refuge, no matter how gaunt. She found erratic solace in the shadowy red tint of the carpet, and the tickle of fabric against her legs.

Chill breathed upon her skin, and it finally dawned on her that she was still suited in the same, frayed threads: remnants of her soul, her being that she poured into every single thread of cheap, mundane cloth. In dirty shreds lay her essence upon her skin, and she knew, as had the pieces gone missing, what was left of the dress of ego she wore would continue to peel away until she was utterly stripped of her identity.

She cherished her cheerleader outfit as she would a trophy: a prize she once lost, and a prize she could not, and would not, have again - a trophy she coveted more than she despised Kim Possible.

Perhaps nobody recalled, or perhaps, nobody would believe, that she became a cheerleader before Kim; she herself refused to confess this truth, because it would benefit Kim, and make her own reputation suffer. She certainly didn't want to make Kim all the more perfect than she already was, because if there was someone who could make possible what was impossible, it would be Kim Possible: only Kim Possible could become better than perfect.

Their first year in junior high, Kim missed auditions because she of a dentist appointment, which resulted to braces and a contract of eternal scorn and ridicule from Bonnie. It was an ultimatum for Bonnie, the decisive condition that gave her the social privilege of completely casting out Kim from the clique of the popular. Kim was pardoned by the group for interacting with someone Ron's stature, but that alone was a great strain; the braces severed that weak, superficial link. Bonnie was the front of every mentally oppressive assault towards Kim, which flushed Kim's standing in the social ladder to the very bottom.

Those were her moments of glory, so insuperable she felt that she never imagined to fall off her peak, and have Kim Possible take her throne. Shortly after being accepted into the cheerleading squad, Kim was unanimously nominated captain, and from there, Kim emerged to best everyone, and master everything. Vainly, Bonnie hung onto the edge of that sky that was once hers, and though she gained meager glimpses of redemption and vengeance, Kim would take back her place in stardom.

Bonnie treaded on mapped roads paved by Kim's footprints; Kim seemed to have walked every path there was, and all that was there for Bonnie to do was follow: relive the journey, with not as much flair and extravagance, because she was, simply, incompetent; she was never good enough to better Kim, much less, be at the same level as her.

But still, Bonnie strutted into crowds with stubborn pride, determined to dent into her own mind it was with these clothes that she created her own path, never mind that Kim skipped ahead of her and stretched the trail to the heavens, and beyond Bonnie. She scaled that sloping bridge once, but when she reached the top, she was drained, and breathless, and with no more Kim to rival and to clash with, Bonnie found no more reason to stay, much less, fight to remain where she was. So, she took one last seat on that throne, recognized and acknowledged the lingering presence of Kim, and jumped back down to the very bottom.

And she would hike back to the top, just so she could let go and plummet back to Earth - with a smile, a smug smile, because she touched Heaven, and Heaven embraced her, but she denied, and took a wingless plunge. She told herself that Kim was an angel, and she was a human being who was closest to becoming an angel, therefore, she was perfect: the perfect human being; such was what she gathered in her delirious clamber for an ounce of dignity.

Even when Kim Possible was flung into the vortex of Time, Bonnie never wavered, and held her poise. Middleton was ceased and captured with gripping haste; she and the other students were confined in one of the empty buildings while the Supreme One imposed upon the city her influence; after which, she was certain to do the same with the people of Middleton. After a few days of little food, rest, and water, they were taken back to their school, still naive of what was to befall them.

But already, her fellow students seemed to have been put through Attitude Adjustment, because none of them had the sense, nor the courage, to come to her rescue. She wondered if all the other girls that man violated never even thought of retaliating, because he was quite surprised with her; though, her bravery turned against her, for it seemed to have spurred him on. Bonnie abhorred the very idea of being just another rape victim, more so, being reduced to nothing more than a mindless acolyte of a mad tyrant; her ardor not only prompted the Supreme One herself to save her, she was given a place higher the Her Supreme One.

Bonnie was in debt, and Shego, the Supreme One, was dead set on collecting.

---

With trembling hands, Bonnie grasped the chains, and with a muffled cry of pain, she pulled herself to stand; she carried her entire weight by her already strained arms because her legs were numb, and she knew what was to come after the stiffness. Hot bolts of pain shot from her shaky legs, and she needed to clamp her teeth on her lower lip just so she could stop herself from screaming. But she bit a tad too hard, and before she could suck in her lip, blood slid the fresh cut and dripped on the carpet.

"Go ahead," the ice in that voice made her shiver more than the cold wind, "scream. Nobody will hear you."

Amazingly, Bonnie still managed to smirk and glare smugly into the darkness, "- nobody but you." She hissed, her grip on the chains tightening as her legs wobbled, and she almost screamed when she stumbled back on knees, the wrench from her arms burned like wildfire. After a few breaths, she snapped her head back, eyes still as fierce with passion. "You will never make me scream," she spat, more blood trickling from the cut on her lip, "it's impossible."

A huff and a giggle echoed after Bonnie's fervent promise, smoldering the emotion that came with such vehemence. A foot stepped into the dim glow of light that came from a faulty, blinking ceiling lamp; another foot followed, and with that smooth motion the Supreme One finally revealed herself: her pale face a picture of nonchalance, yet her conflagrant eyes betrayed her insouciance. "You'd better stop dreaming soon, Princess," she muttered, her hands enflamed and her expression close to crazed.

Bonnie snarled, her chin held high, "Make me."

The fire in Shego's eyes and hands dissipated when she smiled, and only when she was inches from Bonnie's face did that smile reflect her malice. "I thought you'd never ask," she purred, and leaned close to breathe against Bonnie's neck. Still, she refrained from making contact; instead, she grabbed those chains and began to pull, forcing the brunette to set her weight on her weak legs. "It hurts, doesn't it?" she whispered, nearly shuddering when she heard Bonnie bite back a sob. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Princess," she chimed, her mouth once again finding a vulnerable earlobe, "screaming will make you feel better, I promise." She pulled back, and yanked hard at the chains; the brunette hang in the air, pitifully trying to relieve her arms of strain by stretching so her feet with touch the ground.

Bonnie shut her eyes, the faintest whimper being torn from her lips. But it didn't seem enough for Shego, for she lifted her higher in the air, and now, there was no way for Bonnie to place even the tips of her toes on the floor. Her arms throbbed, and it felt as though her blood was set afire. Shego's voice rang incessantly in her mind, and she was no longer certain if she was still being spoken to, because it was deafening how much she cried inside.

"Tell me it hurts," Shego droned, her voice muting whatever audio nonsense Bonnie was hearing, "tell me." She willed a little of her green fire, effectively heating the metal chains; it was but a small, small taste of Shego's ferocity, and a tacit, yet incredibly fatal warning for Bonnie. She watched as those once hardened eyes widen with raw fear, but her delight was brief for those same eyes shut tight. "Beg for it," she whispered, her voice cracking, becoming brittle, "scream and beg for it."

Bonnie could no longer swallow her whines, but she still battled to succumb to the seduction of Shego's words. "I-it hurts," she wailed, her head hung low as she clenched her teeth. The searing metal only grew hotter, and her resolve melted against the blaze. "It hurts...!"

Shego wasn't convinced, and intensified the already scorching fire. "Louder," she buried her face into Bonnie's neck, her own eyes shut now, "scream, Princess, I want you to scream." It tore at her mind, her own voice, and the scream from Bonnie she had been craving for, which she finally had the pleasure of hearing. She happily drowned in those pure, raw screams, and hoped that Bonnie's voice would put to silence her own groveling.

She let go of the chains and drifted along with Bonnie when the brunette sunk to her knees, as that wonderful, luscious scream faded into a breathless sob. "Kim must smell sweeter," she muttered, and licked the flesh of Bonnie's neck, finally letting go of her inhibitions. Her hands reached out and hungrily touched the light, brown hair which was incredibly soft to the touch - so much softer than it looked. From that neck, she trailed greedy kisses to Bonnie's jaw, and she paused when she nearly touched those lips. She looked at Bonnie's face: eyes blank and staring back at her absently; pale lips slightly parted.

Without looking away from those stunned eyes, Shego licked along Bonnie's lower lip, and suckled gently at the cut until she drew blood. Finally, Bonnie roused from her reverie, but before she could jerk her head back, Shego pulled her to a rough, bruising kiss, her fingers digging into the brunette's nape and jaw.

In one kiss, she wanted to consume her, this imperfect mirror of Kim, and be strayed to delusion by this woman who was not Kim. It wasn't enough, because Bonnie wasn't Kim. So close was Bonnie to Kim that Shego was already lost in a fallacy, and that remaining shard of truth and reality must ebb within the illusion.

Bonnie shuddered in fright when Shego slipped her hand down, and brushed away the little cloth that covered her breast, completely stripping her of that dignity that never went beyond those clothes. Velvet warmth engulfed her exposed flesh: that heat filled her blood, crawled to the very tips of her fingers and toes and back, then pooled between her legs. Her breathing became hitched, which was so audible in the rigid hush. She winced, tender under the rough assault of glove upon bare skin, but nonetheless, responded to the touch with a light moan.

Shego deepened the harsh kiss, her tongue feverishly seeking out Bonnie's. A groan slipped her lips when Bonnie responded timidly: that tongue shyly licking her lips and probing her mouth; the girl's compliance was absolutely arousing, and the scent of her was so very, very addicting. She broke the kiss but briefly, allowed Bonnie to take a breath, and once again, locked lips with the meek brunette. She freed from her grasp the sore breast, which she had been fondling with such frenzy, and sliced through the rest of the top with her green flame.

With an impatient whine, Bonnie squirmed, and only then did she remember that her arms were painfully hanging over her head. But once Shego's hands cupped her breasts, all other sensations dulled in comparison, save, of course, for the kiss they were sharing. The pit of her stomach twisted in knots, and in a desperate attempt to calm her zeal, she dragged her legs along the floor and straddled Shego. What it did, however, was fuel her already feral desire, and such was obvious with her furious struggling and anxious moans.

Shego sensed the heightening defiance and boldness, and growled, the sound caught in Bonnie's mouth. She slammed her hips against Bonnie's, grinded roughly, then ripped their lower bodies apart; her hands dropped down to the brunette's thighs, and clamped hard, as did her teeth on Bonnie's tongue. The brunette yelped and tried to pull away, but Shego's hand was quick to grab her by her nape and keep their lips in a kiss. She bit at Bonnie's tongue again, coaxing more blood from the cut she made earlier, and felt the brunette in her arms tense.

Bonnie pulled at the chains and thrashed; the fierce sting of Shego's teeth grazing against her wounded tongue was sending her in a rage. Her eyes watered, and she pressed them shut, but already a tears slid down her cheeks.

The villainess inched her lips off Bonnie's and stared as the warmth of those tears touched her fingers, and seeped through her gloves. It was but hot moisture, but it scorched her, so much more than she imagined of her own fire, and it slithered along her palm, left in its trail was a streak of blaze that refused to be doused. She felt her imaginary reigns on control slide from her fingers, and the power, that set afire her body and soul, withered and fall with Bonnie's tears.

How was it, she wondered in hysteria, that while she had to war to claim and make known her supremacy while Bonnie need do was to cry; how was it that those tears, and those screams, made Bonnie so, so supreme? She was supposed to be the Supreme One - she was the Supreme One. There couldn't be, and shouldn't be, anyone supreme over the Supreme One; most especially not someone in pain and tears.

Yet, there she was: on her knees; dangling by her wrists; her breasts bare and her nipples taut; her lower lip and her tongue nipped and bleeding; her eyes shut, as she hung her head in shame and fear. Yet, enwrapped within saccharine, she glowed of supremacy overwhelming, and Shego could not deny that she was victim and prey to Bonnie - to the Supreme One's... Supreme One: she could not, and would not, deny her.

But Bonnie must not know; Bonnie must never, ever know.

Shego cupped Bonnie's chin, then she tilted the brunette's head up so she could see that face and those eyes. As though out of instinct, she wiped the tears from those red cheeks, and then from beneath those gray-green eyes. "Now, look what you made me do to you, Princess," she purred, her other hand once again toying with Bonnie's hair, "I made you cry." She was being sardonic, perhaps, a little too much, and maybe, she was trying a little too hard.

Bonnie's expression hardened, "Why don't you go and play with one of your little puppets," she sneered, and roughly wrenched her face from Shego's hand, "after all, your every wish is their command, your Supremeness."

Though shocked, Shego was calm when she held Bonnie's face again, still as gentle as she had been earlier. "They're boring," she said, as her eyes followed the trail of blood along Bonnie's chin, "you, on the other hand, Bon-Bon," her tongue ran across her own lips before she licked at the blood line and bit lightly at Bonnie's wounded lip, "are so much fun to play with."

"Then, I'll do just that," Bonnie stuttered, her tenacity withering with that quiver, "I'll be just like all those other dummies."

Shego threw back her head and laughed, as though Bonnie's declaration wasn't even remotely plausible. "You couldn't do that if you tried, Bon-Bon," her giggling drifted off, her face radiant with mockery, "and we both know you won't even try." She drew her body closer, but stilled before their bodies touched; her hand slid down to Bonnie's throat, between those naked breasts, glided along that flat midsection, and paused just above the hem of the short skirt. "You're just like her that way." She ignited a finger and cut at the middle of the skirt; Bonnie's inner thighs and her underwear were now open for exploitation.

Bonnie hurriedly backed away, her breath ragged as she tensed again. "You're no better than that thing," she hissed, her fingers grasping the already cold chains, "you should have just let me get raped; it wouldn't have made a difference, anyway." Acid was the vehemence and spite in her voice, yet there was the slightest edge that rebuffed her fury, more than enough to null any meaning in her words.

Shego knew exactly how to respond: she crawled over to Bonnie, nipped at the brunette's throat, and whispered, "Oh, but it does, Bon-Bon; because," she whispered, and pushed away the brown hair from Bonnie's face, so she could lick along her jaw, "you like this, and you wantthis." A shudder run along her arm when Bonnie took in her mouth her middle finger, and began to tug at the glove. Shego eased her finger from Bonnie's teeth, and pressed her lips near Bonnie's; she made certain the brunette was watching, then she slowly freed her hands of the gloves, compliant of the unsaid request.

And another question was begged: who was toying with who?

Their lips met in another kiss, and, again Bonnie melted under Shego's wanton passion. Those pale hands hovered upon the tan flesh, almost as if it was fear itself that was the hindrance, but when her naked fingers brushed against the curve of Bonnie's cheek, Shego found that she couldn't keep herself from not touching such tender skin, and soon after sought the softness of those brown tresses. The palpability reduced Shego to violent trembling, which only made her tighten her grasp on Bonnie and grope for any degree of steadiness.

Bonnie moaned, her hands twisting and gripping at the chains as she fought the impulse and urge to touch Shego. Her back arched, desperate to instigate, at least, a little contact, and she moved enough that her chest pressed against Shego's. She earned a long, deep groan from Shego, and a harder kiss; she felt those warm fingers pull at her hair, then they moved to knead her nape and caress her neck.

"But you want it your way," Shego murmured into the kiss, her utterance barely coherent, "and you won't get it." She knew how ignorant she sounded for putting into words a contradiction of her earlier actions, but wanted so much to show to Bonnie that it was her who had the power, and it was her who was in control; so much so that Bonnie would believe her, regardless of what she said.

But when Bonnie whimpered in a whisper: "I just want to touch you," Shego realized a little to late that she reached for shackles, and broke them. Bonnie's hands, however, quickly muted the gripe and the remorse when she slipped her fingers into the Shego's hair and, for the first time, kissed her. Now, it was Shego who was withering to surrender beneath Bonnie's tender caress.

Like blind puppeteers tied to cobwebs of strings: they danced, and they played; because it was all there was to do, and it was all they could, and would, do.

---

She was waiting for her; in this room with glass walls and no windows, she was waiting for her.

She was in the middle of the room, as she was in the middle of Shegoton, and the world itself. She could see the whole of Shegoton through those glass walls, yet Shegoton would not get even a glimpse of her, for she was shrouded within the mist of green and black that now filled the sky. But between the bleak beauty of outside and the imperial paranoma of inside that gave off an ambiance of haven, she chose to lie on bed, entangle her body with the silk sheets, and gaze at the bland, opaque ceiling.

With the completion of Shegoton was the fulfillment of the Supreme One's domination and colonization of the world. Though, already, there were mutinous groups about, one of which was founded by Wade, the Possible twins, and a highly-evolved race of naked mole rats that were traced to have come from Aisle 16 of the nearest Smarty Mart branch, they were slowly being crushed by the ever-increasing army of the Supreme One, and posed not the slightest threat.

Without Kim Possible, they won't win; and they would never win, because Kim Possible was gone.

In her hands, she now held an old, brown piece of paper, and a fond smile was on her lips as she ran her fingers along the brittle material. This was but routine to her, yet times she spent with this brown paper made for delightfully diverse experiences, and it was her only solace from the staggering, unshakable consistency. But when she heard a familiar customary sound, that of the entrance to the room opening, she set aside the once treasured item and propped herself on her elbows so she could see who it was that stepped inside, even though there was no need for it.

"You look tired," her visitor pointed out, and giggled, "I hope I didn't make you wait too long."

"I wasn't waiting for you," she lied, and laughed, "but if I were, I actually didn't expect you to get back so early." Her eyes twinkled with mischief when her visitor strutted over towards her, climbed the expensive bed, and kneeled at her feet. "I thought you were going to hunt rebels today," she hummed, as she rubbed her bare foot along an otherwise clothed thigh, "or did you finally kill them off for good?"

"Now, where's the fun in that?" A pale hand came to snag the wandering foot, "I see you spent your day playing dress-up," and a laugh followed the remark, "you like wearing my clothes, Princess?"

Bonnie grinned and wriggled free of the sheets, revealing the uniform green and black colors of the outfit mandatory of all to wear; yet this one's colors were alternate to the common ones, and came with a cape. Bonnie, however, was without the footwear and the gloves, which seemed to have been carelessly tossed aside and forgotten left on the floor. "It fits me well, don't you think?"

Shego's hand glided to Bonnie's thighs, and the rest of her body was not far behind. "Don't tell me you went to the Attitude Adjustment Center wearing that," she muttered, already her mouth preoccupied with nipping at Bonnie's jaw, "what would the other Obedience Officers think?"

"That I'm in the Supreme One's pants." Bonnie purred, and smiled furtively as she twirled a lock of black hair around her fingers. She shuddered when Shego laughed, the hot breath tickling her jaw and her ear. "You think I should tell them the Supreme One's in my pants?" she whispered, her voice already thick with lust. And before Shego could voice her response, Bonnie grabbed that pale face and forced those lips where she wanted them to be: locked with hers in a kiss.

Shego slid a leg between Bonnie's, and struggled to remove her cape and continue kissing the brunette at the same time. Once undone, she flung it aside, and would have wrapped her arm around Bonnie's shoulders had she not felt something rumple under her hand. She took pause, and when she was certain that there was, indeed, something aside from the sheets beneath her hand, she broke the kiss. "What's this?" she mumbled, and reached for the paper. Her brows shot up when the paper revealed a mug shot of herself from years back, "Where'd you get this?"

"I found it a few days ago," Bonnie replied calmly, though she squirmed a little under Shego's weight, "in Kim Possible's locker."

Shego set the paper down and turned her confused expression to Bonnie, "And you took it, why?"

Bonnie shrugged, "I thought maybe you wanted a souvenir, since you ordered to have her house torn down. Speaking of which," she interjected immediately, not giving Shego a chance to talk, "weren't you supposed to be there?"

Shego laughed and pecked on Bonnie's lips, "I have more... important things to do." She kissed her again, longer and deeper than the other, and she was rewarded with a sigh and a moan. The brunette pinned under her began to impatiently writhe, and without retort, she obeyed the unspoken demand: rolled to the side so she would be below Bonnie.

Neither of them noticed that the paper had slipped from the bed and fell to the floor, nor did pay heed to the explosion which came from somewhere in the city of Shegoton. For a short, meager moment, there was light: light that hasn't glowed through the darkness in a very long time. Then, everything was gray again, ash under the black and green rain, waiting for another blaze of light to smother and swallow.