Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. All registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

NoDrogs created Kasy and Sheki. I completely changed their origin in my stories.

Chapter title points to the pop quiz contained in this chapter. And that's the only clue I'll give. My readers tend to be brilliant individuals who don't need me to spell things out in detail. (And if you miss it... Well, remember that I'm ancient. So if you don't remember the 1960s you're excused.)

Help, I Need Somebody

"Happiness is a warm gun," John thought. Not that he even had a cold gun. But it would probably be a good idea to get one if he was going to claim the half-million dollar bounty on Kim Possible. At least he thought it was dollars. Maybe it was Euros. Of maybe some other money. But a half-million of anything is a lot. He should get a gun. And what better place to obtain a gun than a gun store? The clerk put the heavy Glock on the counter for John's examination. John picked it up and made a dash for the door, only to hear it *click* as the clerk hit the locking mechanism. With trembling hands John turned and raised the pistol towards the clerk. Before he could voice his demand the door be unlocked the clerk informed him, "We don't show customers loaded weapons." The Beretta Bobcat in the clerk's hand was tiny, but gave considerable authority to the clerk's request that John sit very quietly on the floor until the police arrived.

"I can't believe my own father would conspire against me with you," Kim grumbled as she applied green makeup before donning a dark wig in the morning.

"There was no conspiracy," Shego assured her. "Will you please recognize I'm right?"

Kim paused briefly, then nodded. "Okay, it will be good to spend more time with Kasy and Sheki. And you should be safe... Uh, as long as I'm being hypocritical... I know I said I don't like you reading the Villain's Guild forum but, uh, has anyone said anything about the contract on witnesses or me?"

"Please don't take this the wrong way, Princess, but you are old news. No one on the forums is interested in chasing imaginary money. Hench is claiming a new model disintegration ray with sixty-two percent more power and the discussion is whether it's for real or he's trying to clean out inventory by labeling some failed piece of junk as new and improved. If anyone is out to get you, or one of the witnesses, the aforementioned person isn't saying anything in the forum."

"Witnesses have guards, they're safe."

"And you've got me. You're safer."

Kim checked her image out in the mirror, and adjusted the wig slightly before reviewing her checklist. "Girls to school, head to your office, read a book, and meet you for lunch?"


"And this afternoon?"

"We can take in a movie or something until you need to pick up the girls. The rest of the time I'll be downtown, or working in the yard or something where I'm visible."

"Just promise me you won't get hurt," Kim said and gave Shego a kiss before called, "Kasy! Sheki! Time to go!"

Brian was a practical man. He didn't believe in rumors. Ghosts don't exist. On the other hand he had seen the odd dragon-like creature in the yard and took note of the sign, 'Beware of the poisonous dog'. But the creature was not outside. The most fearsome resident of the old house, of course, was the crazy green woman. He didn't follow rumors, and had moved to Middleton a few years ago. The redhead was supposed to be a local hero of some sort. Some speculated that the two women were lovers. Others swore that the green woman was a convicted criminal of some sort and her probation required the redhead to supervise her. Brian didn't know, or care. It wasn't his business.

Brian's business was his work for Tri-City Power. The old house had the tightest security in Middleton. And the crazy green woman was a lawyer who wasn't afraid to use it. She'd taken a plumber to court for arriving late for an appointment. Tri-City Power had considered threatening to cut off electricity before the redhead had been able to convince the green woman to give Tri-City Power a key... And the lock on the gate was occasionally changed. At least today's work should make things a little easier for Tri-City. The old meter, the one which required a meter reader to check it monthly, was being replaced with a new meter that would send information on power usage to Tri-City so an accurate bill could be sent.

The Tri-City van was parked across the street. Brian had observed the dark-haired woman come out with the two young girls and drive them to school. The redhead came out shortly after and left. He smiled and went to the back of the truck. He stopped smiling and cursed. Had someone just thrown the new meter in the back like that, or had he hit a bump that caused it to fall? Muttering to himself he dug out his tool kit and started checking the device over to make sure it remained in working condition.

As he worked he noticed the car the redhead had driven off in returning. He breathed a sigh of relief and continued checking the meter for damage.

Shego had observed the Tri-City Power truck parked across the street first thing in the morning. It was still there after breakfast. She hadn't said a thing to Kim. Kim would tell her she was over-reacting. The driver was still behind the wheel when she left the house. She had almost made it downtown before worry made her stop and she made a loop to return home. The panel van was still parked across the street, and the driver was now out and working on some device in the back.

Was there a better way of planting a bomb than disguising yourself as a power company worker?

On entering the house Shego set up a mirror so it reflected the movements of the man at the Tri-City van. He was coming to the gate, carrying his device. Shego called the police, "Have an attempted assassin."

Brian was a practical man. There would have been some personal satisfaction in filing an assault complaint. But the five hundred dollars the green woman offered him to compensate him for 'delaying him on his job' outweighed the slight satisfaction of the assault complaint. (And who wanted to take time off work to go to court and give testimony?) "One condition," he told her.


"I want an apology."

"An apology! You were–"

"Doing his job," the police officer reminded her. "Apologize. Give him the dough. You don't get charged with assault. He's done with you. And I don't have to file no paperwork."

Shego managed the difficult double feat of both offering an apology and not correcting the officer's grammar. "At least Kim won't hear about it."

"Wish I had a ticket to ride," Stuart thought as he moved furtively through the rail yard, looking for an open box car on a train bound for Middleton. However, it is very difficult to know, without a proper schedule, where a train might be headed. Take for example the case of Stu, wanting to collect the price on Kim Possible's head but inadvertently taking a trip to Carolina.

Kim paused at the end of a chapter in The White Mouse. She kept her finger in the book to mark her place as she thought about what she was reading. "I hope my life is never that exciting... I wonder if Nana ever met Nancy Wake when she served?" Kim had met a lot of veterans who didn't talk their experiences, for whatever reason. Some didn't want to relive the horrors they'd seen. Some felt only another vet could understand. And some just wanted to move on with their lives and not look back. Kim wondered why her grandmother had never told her about her work. "Still weird that Drakken had learned things about Nana she never talked to me about." She looked over at the clock. "I can read one more chapter before lunch."

The two women met for lunch at the Middleton Diner. The middle-aged waitress came over and stared back and forth between the two women. "It's a little early for Halloween," she commented.

"A new relationship technique," Shego told her. "Walk a mile in your partner's shoes."

"No way my husband puts on my shoes... I catch him putting on my underwear and I'll divorce the bum. Your therapist needs a therapist." She poured coffee in Shego's cup. "Do I call you Shego or Kim? And you going with your fish sandwich and side salad, balsamic dressing or her fruit plate and cottage cheese?"

"Just don't call me 'dear'. I'll have my usual."

"Okay, sweetie."

Kim chimed in, "Me too."

"I don't know why we come here," Shego whispered as the waitress meandered off, refilling coffee cups on her way to the kitchen. "The food isn't that good and the service is poor."

"I find it oddly comforting to realize there are people as rude as you."

As they left, following lunch, Kim told Shego, "I like being with you. You took some time off work to protect me. Why don't we spend our time together? I could be very, very grateful to the right bodyguard."

"Tempting as that sounds the whole point is keeping you safe. And since you are the designated target you need to stay away from me while I'm you and you're me."

Paul grabbed the box from the FedEx driver and hurried down to the basement. He opened the package and read the directions for the Hench Co Death-Ray 2010™. "Seems simple enough," he thought as he inserted the three F-Cell batteries into the device. "I'll just test it out before I go for that bounty on Kim Possible." He aimed the death ray at his mother's dog (he had never liked the beast) and thought "Don't let me down," as he pressed the trigger. Thanks to the quick response by the fire department damage to the house on Penny Lane was limited to Paul's room in his mother's basement. Paul himself would recover from second degree burns, eventually. And the dog escaped unscathed.

Mick was on his cell phone as he drove down Elm Street in Middleton. He didn't notice the red light he ran. He noticed the pedestrian he was about to hit and panicked, but in panicking hit the accelerator instead of the brake – the car headed straight for the woman who had been crossing with a green light.

The woman took the speeding car as an attempt on her life, or more precisely an attempt on her wife's life. Shego jumped to the side, then leapt onto the car as it sped past. Mick, still holding onto the phone with one hand and trying to discuss yesterday's game lost complete control. He jerked the wheel, causing the car to swerve into a power pole.

The frightened Mick was locked in the car, placing a frantic call to 911 and begging to be rescued from the crazy woman yelling at him to come out so she could pull out his large intestine and strangle him with it.

"You again," the officer sighed when he arrived on the scene.

"Bastard tried to run me down!"

"You hurt?"

"Some. Got thrown off the car when it crashed."

The officer's brow furrowed, "He hit you, and that was why you were on the car?"

"I jumped out of his way. I wasn't going to give him another chance, so I jumped on the car."

The officer took Shego's testimony, then persuaded her to move over to a coffee shop and let a doctor check her over. At least that was what he told her. With Shego away he was able to coax Mick out of the car, take his statement, and write out a citation for speeding, talking on a cell phone while driving, reckless endangerment, and failure to control his vehicle.

"Okay, if I manage to eliminate Kim Possible, how will anyone know I did it?" George thought. He decided to stake a claim on the half-million by sending an email to the prison informing the genocidal commander of his plan. In the subject line he typed, 'Money, That's What I Want'. In the message he outlined his plans. He assumed the prison guards would forward the message. He was correct. Whether the message made it to the warlord or not wasn't clear, but the police who arrested him were aware of the contents of the message. "I should have known better," he thought as he was led away in handcuffs.

Mick called his lawyer.

"You nearly run a woman down, and you want me to sue her for wrecking your car?" the lawyer demanded.

"Yeah. It's her fault I, like, lost total control and hit that pole. My car was, like, totaled. And the police are saying it's my fault."

"You may have a hard time selling it to a jury."

"The traffic cam caught it. I mean, yeah, it shows me running the light–"

"You were speeding?"

"No. Yes. Not very much. I was on the phone and–"

"Which is illegal in this state."

"Everyone does it. So, like, I miss the light. And, yeah, I hit the accelerator or something by accident when I saw her. But she was fast! She jumped out of the way! And then, like, she jumped on my car! And I lost it! It's all her fault. And, like, she was threatening to kill me. I have witnesses!"

The lawyer sighed, "Not sure what kind of a case you have. I'll look at the police report. Did you get the woman's name?"

"Um, I saw it. It looked real funny, but I think the officer said O'Kelly. It didn't look like O'Kelly. He must not have known how to pronounce it."

"What was her first name?"


"Sharon... Sharon O'Ceillagh?"


"Dark hair, skin kind of odd looking?"

"She had red... She was wearing a wig I think, it kind of got messed up. Yeah, dark hair."

"Forget suing. She's not the best lawyer in Middleton. But she works at the best firm and is the protégé of Judge Armstrong. You will lose. And you don't want to piss off her firm."

"I thought child prodigies were, like, real little or something."

"Protégé, Mick, it's something different. Call your insurance company."

"I'm not going to carry that weight," Peter thought as he packed the bomb into his luggage to be checked. He knew you were not supposed to take bombs onto a plane in your carry-on bag. To his surprise he discovered that the narrow-minded TSA took a very dim view of even bombs carefully packed and placed in checked luggage.

"How was your day, Dear?" Kim called when Shego arrived with the Chinese take-out. With her time devoted to making 'Kim' visible the green woman had no time to cook. Of course she had not ordered the food. Someone might have poisoned it to eliminate Kim with her entire family. The order had been placed, and picked up, by a secretary at the law office.

"Uneventful," lied Shego in answer to Kim's question.

"So, willing to admit I'm in no danger?"

"A day without an assassination attempt proves nothing. There's probably a whole gang out there trying to lull you into a false sense of security. It only takes one assassination to ruin your whole day."

"Is there anything in the world which could make you admit you're over reacting?"

"Not that I can think of... Maybe if lightning crashed, the heavens opened, and a fourteen foot angel flew down on golden wings to say I'd over reacted I might consider the possibility. Maybe."

The family walked over to see Jane and Joss's family after dinner. Kim would have liked to walk with Shego. But the green woman insisted on remaining dressed as Kim and not walking with the others so that Kasy and Sheki wouldn't be hurt by collateral damage.

But Shego suffered a brain cramp trying to decide whether it would be better to walk a block in front of, or a block behind, the rest of the family.

Finally Kim pulled out a quarter, "Heads. You walk in front."

The second morning was much like the first

"All I got to do is act naturally," Richard thought as he practiced flying his last small drone around the park, "just an innocent hobbyist out having fun." He'd prove them all wrong. His ragweed concentrate was the perfect assassin's tool. The victim would sneeze himself or, in the case of Kim Possible, herself to death. Maybe he could get steady work as an assassin, taking out contracts around the world. He needed a name that would inspire potential clients. "Weedman? No, that sounds like... No, no, no, I don't smoke it no more," he reminded himself. And in that second when he lost concentration the drone joined its eleven brothers in crashing. "Damn. It don't come easy," he sighed. It would take him another six months to save up for a new case of drones and the open contract on Kim Possible would have expired by then.

"Funeral insurance, greatest racket in the world," Keith thought. "Person gets sick and misses a couple premium payments before croaking and we don't have to pay a cent." He always asked those he talked with in cold calls about their neighbors. Apparently a Kim Possible worked for some UN law enforcement agency. Dangerous work. His company could charge higher premiums, and most likely she'd have paid twice as much as the policy's value by the time of her death. He watched the house for twenty minutes, and finally a red-haired woman came out and strolled around the yard.

"Kim Possible?" he called.

Shego hesitated. Anyone who knew Kim could tell easily she was not Kim. "Yes?"

"Can I have a minute of your time?"

A real killer would have just opened fire, Shego decided and walked over to the gate. If he was an assassin she could take him out much better if she were close. Then she remembered the Tri-City power worker. "Don't assume he's an assassin," she reminded herself.

"Do you think about eternity? Do you consider those who you leave behind?"

"Great, one of those self-ordained holy rollers. Probably here to try and try and poach Kim for his congregation." Shego opened the gate. It was tempting to just ignore him. But Rabbi Ruth had warned this just fed their persecution complex. Rude Bible-thumpers considered having doors slammed on them for being obnoxious equivalent to the trials of the early martyrs who were thrown to lions. The question was whether to indicate she was Jewish. Some of them didn't know how to witness to Jews. Others became more persistent, thinking God awarded extra brownie points for saving a Jewish soul. "I believe in the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Did you know he loves you and has a wonderful plan for your wife?"

Keith wondered if he looked as puzzled as he felt. "Sorry, no. I'm here to talk with you about your funeral." He started to reach inside his jacket for brochures on funeral insurance. That was his last conscious memory for some time.

Shego sat in a holding cell at the Middleton jail. She had, so far, not made her one phone call. She pondered who might bail her out without telling Kim. With no tin cup to bang against the bars to pass the time she started singing a slow, mournful rendition of an old spiritual,

"Nobody knows the trouble that I've seen
Nobody knows my sorrow
Nobody knows the trouble that I've seen
Glory hallelujah"

"Pipe down," a woman in another cell called. Which only encouraged the third woman in the section to join Shego in the second verse.

Before the two women could finish the door to the holding area opened and the the matron led in Kim and the DA, Steve Crandall.

"It's kind of like the pound," the DA explained. "You come back and look over what's in the cages and decide if you want to adopt one and take it home."

"Lousy analogy," Shego called. "And you told her I was in here? That's a breach of... It's a breach of something. I'll sue!"

"That one seems very loud," Kim told Steve, "I'm looking for one who's good with small children."

"This isn't a joke," Shego called.

"No, it's not," Kim snapped. "I'm in no danger. But you insisted on keeping me safe – and now you're in jail for assault. It isn't a joke at all."

"It's a mistake. There was no reason to jail me for assault."

"You beat someone up."

"I didn't hurt a human being! I punched an insurance agent. Once. They don't count as human beings. It was a vulture in a cheap suit. And I thought he wanted to hurt you."

"Insurance salesmen are people too."

"Prove it!"

"Kim and I spoke to the insurance agent," the DA told her. "It is possible the assault charge might go away for the same five hundred dollars you paid the man from Tri-City Power."

"And why didn't you tell me about that?" demanded Kim.

"Didn't want to worry your pretty little head," Shego assured her.

"I've changed my mind," Kim told the DA. "Let's leave her in jail."

"Don't try to dump your problems on us," Steve retorted. "You married her. She's your responsibility."

Shego called, "The for better or worse clause, remember? And I'm not paying a cent to that insurance ghoul. You read what he said; what he did. I had a legitimate reason to feel threatened."

"Only if you were justified in being wildly paranoid," Steve told her. "Will a jury buy your–"

"They will when I explain there was a bounty out on Kim."

"Maybe," he shrugged, "maybe not. You can't be sure what a jury might do. And if you lose it will cost you a lot more than five hundred dollars."

Shego hesitated, "I'll think about it. Probably cheaper than losing the billable hours. But that's the only reason I'll even consider it. Now, let me out."

"Oh, I can't do that," Steve told her. "Charges not filed, judge hasn't set bail. Afraid you'll stay here awhile."

"That's not funny. If I pay him off there are no charges."

"But you can't pay him if you're back here. I've got someone typing up the charges. Did you see the sloth in the movie Zootopia?"

Kim threatened, "And I'm going to call the judges and explain that keeping you in jail for a few days might be safer for you and other people in Middleton. They'll set bail so high you won't be willing to pay a bondsman."

Steve added, "And a couple judges don't like Sharon anyway and will be happy to set bond high on general principles."

"This joke has gone on long enough. Let me out!" Shego demanded. "I'll pay the five hundred."

"No, I really feel like you're safer back here," Kim told her. "You assaulted the man from Tri-City, you went after the guy who nearly hit you with–"

"He nearly ran me over! You want me to turn the other cheek?"

"–the insurance agent. I'm not saying you were wrong about the driver. I understand what you imagined about the insurance guy. But I think you're safer here."

"What do you want?" Shego sighed. "You want a pound of flesh, I know it."

"I'm back to being me. You're you. And we bring Jane back so I can be with everyone for a few days. Oh, and you admit you over-reacted."

"I won't admit it. I'll call your bluff and stay right here. Go ahead, try and watch the girls all by yourself."

"Tell you what I'm gonna do," Kim promised in an oily tone. "Tomorrow evening Bego watches the girls. You and I go out to Martini's. And afterwards..." She leaned over to the bars and whispered something in Shego's ear.

Steve asked, "Is bribing a suspect kosher?"

"Knock it off," Shego told him. "She made me an offer I can't refuse. I over-reacted. Now let me out and I'll play nice."