A/N--I can't believe I'm continuing this, but I am since most of you urged me to. Anyway, enjoy and please review!

Chapter 1

The lair was incredibly quiet. Without Drakken constantly ranting about world domination--'how I miss his rambling' she thought--there was just perfect silence. It was in direct contrast to the figure sitting in the middle of the room suffering within.

Sheila Gordon was Shego no more. She wasn't bent on world domination anymore; how could she continue the dream when the dreamer was gone? He was savagely ripped away from her by none other than Miss Perfect and her perfect family. She had resented Kim from the beginning for her easy life--a best friend who cared for her beyond words, probably a hot boyfriend, rich parents, natural athleticism, and radiant beauty--'she has it so easy' she had thought to herself.

But that was an eternity ago. Her resentment had evolved into unbridled hatred; her old dreams were gone, replaced by the nightmares of that night. Everything seemed so normal (we were losing after all she thought bitterly), when things took a turn for the worst. 'More like a nosedive. First, Drakken--"


'He was brutally punched--'

'Shut up!'

'Couldn't defend himself.'


'Wasn't the worst part was it?'

Shego couldn't take it anymore. She had tried to push the memory out of her head ever since the incident. So far she was successful, but it was starting to get to her; so she did the only thing that seemed to make sense. She screamed. Her pained cries reverberated in the emptiness around her as the sound bounced off the walls. She clenched her fists so tightly together that her nails were drawing blood, but she didn't care.

'Kimmie and her family will pay.' It was the only thought that comforted her anymore.


While Shego was lamenting the past, two figures sat in a booth at Bueno Nacho, completely oblivious to the sorrow of their archenemy.

"Ron, it just feels different now--seeing you chow down on Bueno Nacho when you're my boyfriend."

"How it is so different?"

"It just is. So can we just be a little bit more civilized here?" she asked irritably. For some reason, their relationship had added so much unwanted stress to their friendship.

'It's a lot tougher than I thought,' she thought to herself. Ron, as always, did what she asked of him.

'I wish she could be a little less bossy' he grumpily thought to himself. 'It's like she's trying to mold me into her idea of the perfect boyfriend.'

"Fine, KP. I just don't think we should have to change everything we've ever known for this relationship. Don't get me wrong--Prom Night was unforgettable, but maybe, I dunno, we could be a little more like we used to be?"

"You want to just be friends?"

"Nono. Just…just KP and Ron, the way we always were."

"But Ron, things are different now. We aren't just best friends anymore."

"I guess you're right," he reluctant said as he put another nacho in his mouth. This time, he made sure there was no dripping and wiped his lips immediately after.


'I won't cry anymore. I won't cry anymore.' It was of no use. Though she was hot tempered and often hurt Drakken, she shared a bond with him that really couldn't be explained. She never realized it until he died and left her with forty million dollars. All the money in the world couldn't stop her pain, she had realized. 'Why did it take a tragedy to open my eyes?'

She was so bent on world domination--it was her dream right? 'No, my dream was right in front of me.' And because she failed to realize it, she was now paying the ultimate price.

'But I won't be alone in my suffering,' she vowed.

'No, it's payback time. I'm going to destroy everything you've ever loved Kimmie.' She refused to think back to the event itself--still too painful--but she thought back to the funeral.


'Alone. I was the only one there. No funeral orators, no friends, no family. I tried Dr. D. I really did. No one would come. I even called Timothy Possible and your other college 'friends.' None of them even tried to sound like they cared. I never showed it, but I understood your pain when Tim mocked you, disrespected you, belittled you. Like you weren't even human.

I saw your pain. Through your goofy exterior I saw those unshed tears that you longed to let go. I saw through your charade every time you'd say something stupid and acted like you didn't know it was. You did it to hide the pain because even though you might have tried to act weak, you're probably the strongest person I've ever met.

Stronger than Kim. Stronger than her hypocrite father. They couldn't take the torment you took. Timothy couldn't take being so alone in the world with every wretched voice assaulting you from the darkness inside of you-- freak, failure--yet you took it all and went on.

When you joked about the captor-captive relationship with him--you weren't really joking were you? You just wanted some respect. He couldn't even give that to you. Couldn't step down from his pedestal of hypocrisy to save the world. He still had to demean you.

And when your plan finally worked--it was genius--a naked mole rat ruined it.

Then you died in a time after. Miss Perfect didn't bat an eyelash. To her, nothing had happened. To the world, nothing had happened.

But don't worry Dr. D. I'll make sure they never forget.'

A/N--Should I continue, or was this story dead at one-shot?