I do not own any Disney characters named herein, and am only borrowing them to tell a nonprofit tale meant for entertainment purposes only.
Kim Possible: Stranger In The Mirror
She woke with her skull throbbing. Something musty filled her nostrils, and she had an impulse to gag as she belatedly realized she wasn't in her own room at home.
The room around her was dimly lit, and she seemed to be on a small, narrow cot of some kind rather than her own familiar bed. She groaned, slowly rolling off her belly, and only getting her arms up under her with effort.
She finally pushed herself up, and realized her balance felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. She felt something pinch under her arms, and belatedly realized that whatever she was wearing was too tight across her torso. Which, she knew, was not the kind of thing she wore. Ever.
Sitting upright only after some genuine effort, she felt as if she were panting after a long run, or a hard fight, and slowly shook her head, still conscious of the throbbing that had yet to ease.
She put her hands up to her head, cradling her pounding temples, and then took a deeper breath, trying to assess her condition.
She froze, and frowned, as she slowly pulled her hands away from her head.
She gaped at the paler than usual flesh that blatantly contrasted with the light gray jumpsuit she was wearing. Then she focused on the darker than usual nails that looked more like claws than simple nails.
The few tangled strands of hair entwined in her fingers also drew her confused stare.
The hair was dark. Very dark. Much darker than her usual fiery mane. It was….black as coal. The kind of black that only came with certain genes, or from a bottle.
She belatedly realized her arms were spread farther apart than normal, and she looked down, seeing a very much increased bust-line that she knew was definitely not hers.
"No…..way," she moaned, even the soft, raspy sound of her voice making her skull throb all the more.
Not even her own voice.
"I'm in Shego's body," Kim Possible moaned incredulously as she held up her hands in helpless bewilderment.
Focusing beyond her body, she looked around, and realized she was not only not in her own room, but she wasn't anywhere else that might be deemed safe. She was in some kind of jail. Maybe in one of the special cells built just to hold Shego at her worst.
She recalled the last time she had even seen Shego. She had been laying low for a while now before that whole Neutronalizer sitch. In fact, she had been staying unusually quiet right up until Drakken pulled that brain-switching bit to steal that experimental military ray.
Her last memory, however, was of facing down Drakken and Shego in that time-share lair, and then…..nothing.
She looked around the thick, gray walls that didn't quite seem to be concrete. Or steel. Another special alloy?
She had a toilet, a sink, and a narrow cot. Nothing else. The place reeked, too, which suggested it wasn't being cleaned very often.
Finally regaining enough strength, and composure, she stood up, and staggered to the heavy, steel panel that looked as if it had some kind of wiring surrounding the frame.
Whatever was going on, she had to let Dr. Director know someone had pulled a switch. Because if she wasn't in her own body, Kim realized that someone else was, and that could only mean trouble. She walked over, banged on the door, and shouted.
"Guard? Somebody? I need to talk to Dr. Director! Do you hear me? I need to contact Global Justice! It's important!"
There was no answer.
She put an ear to the door, but all she heard was a faint, soft humming.
Likely from whatever system sealed the door.
She banged again, but there was still no reply.
She wasn't even sure what time it was, or if there was anyone outside.
Then again, this was Shego's cell. Shego's body. If they went to all the trouble of locking her up like this, then someone was watching, even if she couldn't see any evidence of any cameras, or surveillance. Still, surely Wade had noticed something. Or had they got to him somehow?
Maybe even hurt him? Or Ron?
The thought worried her.
"Hello? I need to talk to Dr. Director," she called out again. "It's urgent! You have to contact her!"
She sagged against the door, the brief action, and her shouts, making her skull throb again like someone was tap-dancing on her head.
With steel boots.
She staggered toward the bed, and sank back down in a slouched posture.
"Damn it," she actually swore. "Someone has to have heard me. Surely….. Someone heard me," she groaned, and slowly shook her head.
She sat there waiting. Hoping someone would come. Someone had to have heard her. Surely they were listening to her. They would relay the message, and considering Dr. Director's usual interest in her, that is, in Shego, surely she would come.
She had to come.
Kim ended up dozing off sagging back against the hard wall next to the cot, and woke up with a bad kink in her neck.
She was, however, feeling much better.
If anything, she felt….energized.
Shego had a powerful metabolism thanks to her comet exposure. Kim had almost forgotten about that. Whatever else had happened, Shego's body was still powerful, and it had essentially healed whatever had plagued her earlier. Even as she sat up, and stretched out the kinks, a somewhat brighter light now filling the virtually seamless cell, she felt the kinks and aches from her bad sleeping posture already fading, too.
She stood up, generally flexing, and stretching as she looked around again.
She had no idea how Shego's powers actually worked, but she doubted trying to generate plasma at this point would help her.
She was about to walk to the door again when she noted something clanked, and a small slot near the bottom of the door opened, and a covered tray slid through a hinged panel she had not noticed before now.
She walked over, banged on the door, and shouted.
"Hey! I need to talk to Dr. Director. It's important."
She heard nothing.
She put her ear to the door again, and still heard nothing.
"Hey," she shouted again, and hit the door harder.
She gaped when green fire flared when she banged her fist into the panel.
She gaped all the more when she realized the door was actually slightly dented by her blow.
Her astonishment only grew when the door's hum increased briefly, and then the dent filled out, and the panel looked untouched just a few moment's later. Even the panel at the bottom now looked as if it had never been open. Or capable of opening. As if it had opened itself, and then resealed itself.
"Self-replicating? Or…..cybertronic," she murmured, thinking of her dad's latest theories. "I can see how they would hope that would hold her," Kim murmured, speculating on the device involved.
Then grimaced, and added, "Or rather, me."
She swore, and glared at the tray, and then eyed the door.
"I'm being serious here. Someone needs to get Dr. Director for me," she shouted.
She grumbled, and picked up the tray to carry it over to her cot, sitting down beside the tray before uncovering it.
"They have got to be kidding," she grimaced, staring at the unappetizing mound of runny scrambled eggs, a very underdone piece of bacon, and a stale piece of toast on a Styrofoam plate. No butter. No seasoning. One plastic spork. Along with a plastic cup filled with some kind of juice.
It was hard to say what kind, since it was dark, looked oddly pulpy, and less than appetizing.
She grimaced, and pondered a hunger strike, until she remembered something Shego used to do all the time. Usually showing off.
"Maybe," she murmured, and pointed at her plate.
Of course, nothing happened.
She sighed, then shook her head as she pondered her own experiences with fighting the woman with comet powers over the past months.
Closing her eyes, she drew a deep breath, hopefully found the right trigger, and then opened her eyes. A green fluttering covered the tray, turning the Styrofoam suspiciously curdled, but cooking both bacon and eggs until the were done.
She wasn't altogether sure there was anything she could do about the juice.
She wasn't going to drink it, though. It had a weird after-smell that made her more than suspicious of it. She'd drink water from the tap first.
Eating the reheated, and now cooked eggs, she dumped the juice in the toilet, and then rinsed the cup carefully after seeing the strange, milky residue in the bottom. Did they really think she'd drink that?
Sipping water from the tap, after assessing its clarity, she gulped down a few cups before she set the cup on the tray, covered the tray once more, and put the tray on the floor by the door again. She figured that was likely part of the routine that ensured she got to eat again.
Just to be sure they got the message, though, she used a superheated claw to carve, "Call Dr. Director" onto the top of the plastic tray.
Let them ignore that, she fumed.
They obviously did.
She counted at least nine 'days' before she started to seriously get impatient.
God only knew what damage was being done out there by the real Shego. Especially if she were, as Kim suspected, in her body.
She banged on the door more than once by the time the tenth day passed.
She unleashed all the plasma she could summon on the door at one point, and just stared when the door glowed hot, then somehow absorbed both the heat and energy without showing a single trace of damage.
It made her scream in frustration.
By the fourteenth day, she realized brute force, and even comet power was not going to open that door.
Maybe Shego, the real Shego, could figure out something, but Kim was no slouch herself.
She stopped relying on Shego's borrowed body, and powers, and began to use her own mind, which seemed intact so far as she could tell. Even if she couldn't figure out how she had ended up here in this cell, in the wrong body.
She walked over to the door again, heard the humming increase, and guessed someone was watching in order to increase the power to fuel whatever process kept it intact. She found it difficult to imagine any computer managing to do so without some human interaction, because it would be too easy for the computer to break down, or be overwhelmed.
No, someone was monitoring her.
Which meant someone knew she was calling for Dr. Director, and ignoring her.
She didn't know why, and just then, she didn't care.
She didn't bother to relay her true message. That she wasn't Shego, but Kim Possible. She could guess how they would accept that claim after all the tricks Shego, the real Shego, had played on the Law in the past.
She studied the door carefully, her intellect assessing it as she now let her fingers run over the cool metal.
As she suspected, the wiring on the frame was slightly raised. She suspected it was using a nanno-receptor system to absorb, and channel energy. She had seen that kind of thing when her dad used to drag her to the space center years ago with the Rocket Boosters.
Still, the wiring array explained that much.
The metal itself was likely cybertronic, or was using some other self-replicating system.
Someone was monitoring the cell to ensure the computer constantly fed adequate commands for regulating energy needs to her…..outbursts.
Which meant that they had eyes on her.
The thought creeped her out.
Bad enough she was stuck in a single, gray jumpsuit with no way to change so far as she knew. Bad enough she had to wash in that sink, use that seatless toilet without cover, and in short, live like an animal in this box. The idea someone was watching all that, and still not giving her the decency of a reply made her furious.
If this was Shego's usual experience, little wonder she hated these people.
She glanced around again, and noted the seamless walls. The smooth, flat material with not so much as a break. She had finally found a vent. Just big enough for air flow to keep her from suffocating, but little else.
Except, maybe a camera?
She walked over to the cot, ripped it out of its inadequate moorings, and then shoved it over to the wall where she could climb up and look in the narrow vent.
The gleam of a single, glass eye confirmed her guess.
"I hate perverts," she snarled, and fired a blast of plasma through the narrow grate to destroy the camera.
To her relief, it exploded on cue.
Then she noted a tiny wheel near the other side of the vent.
Which meant another camera could likely be rolled right up into place in due time.
She glowered at that, and then leaned down, using her claws to rip up the musty mattress on her cot, and used the strips to stuff into the vent so nothing could be seen that way.
"Let them figure that one out from over there," she huffed.
She then ensured there were no other hiding places, and found no other surveillance devices before she walked over to the door again, and planned her next move.
"The thing about cybertronic interaction," she murmured, remember her dad's rambling, "Is you must have a steady circuit, because it can be easy to short out."
She used her claws again, superheating her fingertips the way she had seen Shego do, and slid them across the frame just deep enough to tear into the wiring just visible on the metal surface. She quickly pulled the scorched ends up, and then crossed several of the wires even as the metal and cable casings tried to reseal themselves.
They did, but by then, Kim had already crossed over a half-dozen wires, and she could tell by the now increasingly discordant hum that something was not working quite so well as before inside the panel locking her in this hellish prison.
She smirked, and using the far side of the door near where a lock was likely located, she unleashed all the plasma she could summon on that area as the air began to grow heated, and the stench of ozone filled the air.
"Nothing like an overloaded system to screw up the most foolproof device," she grinned, and on cue, she rammed both glowing hands into the side of that steel frame, and found that this time, the steel yielded as her fingers managed to sink into the yielding metal that wasn't repairing itself this time.
She got her fingers in deep enough to get a grip, and now she increased the energy as she now pushed with all her might, and heard the satisfying groan of warping steel.
Then, with a reverberating clang, the door swung abruptly back, and she was staring at over a dozen guards all standing in a narrow hall with armed weapons pointed directly at her.
Kim dusted her hands, and smiled.
"Sorry about that, but someone was ignoring me, and I was being very serious when I said I needed to speak to Dr. Director. So, how about someone gets her over here, or at least on the phone? And while you're at it, I could use a shower, and fresh clothing."
Several of the men eyed one another, all of them looking nervous, and all of them unsure of what to do.
Then Kim realized they weren't ordinary prison guards.
They were all in military fatigues.
All carrying military ordinance.
"Are you guys all deaf-mutes, or what," she demanded. "Dr. Director? Shower? Clothes? Do I have to do everything myself?"
"Just get back in the cell, woman," a man with sergeant's stripes demanded, aiming his rifle at her head.
"If I wanted, I could have already blown past you, or through you. Whatever. Now, I'm standing here, trying to be cooperative, so how about you return the effort? Because I'm getting really tired of being ignored, and….."
"What is that prisoner doing out of her cell," a burly man wearing a lieutenant's bars demanded as he walked up behind the other men just then. "Who opened that door?"
"That would be me," Kim smiled, waving at him.
"Just get back inside, woman. You're not going anywhere, and….."
"I'm trying to be nice about this," Kim sighed. "I really am. I just want someone to call Dr. Director. I need to speak to her at once. It's important."
"Open fire," the officer spat his command.
Before he finished the second word, Kim was moving.
Military, or not, she knew how men fought. How they reacted.
Fortunately, she was familiar enough with Shego, and of late, Shego's body, that she pulled off the flying leap over the men's heads to land just in front of the officer who didn't seem to realize just how fast 'Shego' could move.
Spinning around after ascertaining the man was no threat, she took out the armed soldiers from behind before they could quite grasp the fact she was behind them. She disarmed the lot, left more than a few of fourteen men unconscious, and then turned back to the glowering officer.
"Now, let's try again," Kim told him, taking a step toward him, her bare feet chilled slightly by the cool metal flooring.
She looked down, and around.
The entire corridor was made of metal.
Ignoring the discovery, she eyed the man as she stepped right up to him, and almost smirked when he cringed.
"Why won't you just call Dr. Director for me?"
"Because she has nothing to do with our authority, or this operation. You're our prisoner, woman. And unlike those civilian slackers at Global Justice, we do not make mistakes. You aren't going anywhere except back into that cell, or….."
"Or," Kim prompted him.
The man smiled a chilling smile.
"I'll send the self-destruct code that will bury this entire complex on your head."
"So, we're underground," Kim realized.
"Five miles down. Even you can't get out of this facility."
"So, you'd sacrifice all your men's lives? Even your own. Just because you don't want to make a phone call," Kim exclaimed.
The man glowered without batting an eye.
"You have nothing we want to hear. I know all about you, Gordeaux. All about you. This time, you're staying right where you belong. In that cell."
"Gordeaux," she echoed in confusion. "Suppose I told you Shego isn't here."
The man didn't even bat an eye.
"Suppose I told you that somehow, I don't know how yet, she already got out?"
"Nice try. I don't buy it, since I'm standing here looking right at you," he said.
"Yes. You are looking at Shego. Or, at least, her body."
"Her….body. What kind of game do you think you're pulling now, woman," the officer spat.
"The reason, Lt Makker," she read his uniform's nameplate, "Is because I'm not Shego. I may be in her body, but I'm not her. I'm….someone else."
"Of course you are," he spat.
"Fine. I'll tell you. Then you'll call Dr. Director. Because I'm afraid she may be in my body. My real body. God only knows what she may be up to out there, either."
"Right," the man huffed.
"I'm Kim Possible," she told him. "And I can prove it."
The man's smile was beyond cynical.
"I am," she told him.
The man still didn't bat an eye.
"Unlikely. For one, I happen to know that Kim Possible retired three years ago."
"What. That's not possible. I was on a mission just before I woke up….here. Like this," Kim Possible spat.
"Last chance. Then I use my code, which the computer listening will accept, and carry out the self-destruct command once it hears my….."
"Thanks for the tip," she said, staring down at the now unconscious man she had just knocked out cold with a single punch. One that likely broke his jaw.
In two places.
If he couldn't talk, he couldn't do anything stupid.
Tying him up with his own belt and laces, she found a security card in his blouse, and then loped down the hall to the only exit.
An elevator shaft.
She stepped inside, used the card, and started the lift upwards, the only direction apparently available.
Even as the car began moving, so was Kim.
She jumped up, pushed open the service panel, and gracefully climbed out onto the top of the moving car as it continued to ascend. It stopped apparently one floor before the uppermost level, but she expected some kind of failsafe like that.
She leapt up, using the cable to climb up to that last level, and carefully pushed the doors open from the edge.
She looked out at a brightly lit lobby with no one present.
She frowned, and eased out after a few minutes passed, and no one shouted orders, or tried to shoot. She found herself in the brightly lit lobby of an office building. A snoring security guard was dozing at his post, and even had his feet up on the console that displayed monitors showing only ordinary offices in an ordinary office building.
She frowned, and padded past him to stare out locked doors at a nondescript street.
One lit only by street lamps, and the sliver of moonlight from a crescent just visible over the artificial horizon of a city she didn't recognize. She glanced around, but saw nothing but a nondescript logo that could have been anything, or anyone.
She walked back to the guard's post, and frowned as she studied the computer there.
"No…..way," she rasped not for the first time since waking that first time as Shego.
This time, however, it was because according to her own reckoning, and the date on the monitor before her, she had been out of touch for over six years. Almost seven.
That just wasn't possible, no pun intended.
Six years? What had happened to her?
The guard snorted, shifted restlessly as one foot fell from the console, then resettled into his overstuffed chair that was in danger of falling over.
"Six years," she frowned, and tried to understand.
One thing was certain, she had to find someone to help her. Only she wasn't going to get far looking like a green-skinned felon from her own past. She needed clothes. A disguise, and a way to find out where she was before she could make plans to find anyone else that might help.
She headed for the back hall, knowing any office building had some kind of janitorial area, and it would have work clothes, and hopefully, a locker room of some kind she could exploit. Either way, she had to get out of here, and fast, before those soldiers below came to, and started hunting her.
Something now told her they weren't just keeping Shego in prison.
They were keeping her in permanent isolation.
Why? What had the woman done this time?
And how had she lost over six years?
So many questions. Unfortunately, she wasn't even sure where to start finding answers. Let alone how.
To Be Continued…