Kim Possible and all related characters and indicia are owned by the Disney Corporation. Supergirl and all related characters and indicia are owned by DC Comics/Warner Bros. This work of fan fiction is written for pleasure, not profit.
Middleton High School
Kim Possible looked up from putting her books in her locker to see her oldest and best friend, the happy-go-lucky, irrepressible Ron Stoppable sauntering towards her.
"Hey Ron," she called back with a smile. "All set for the chemistry mid-term?"
Ron's face fell, but only for a moment. "Nah, but then, when am I ever ready?" he asked flippantly. Kim gave him a severe look and he wilted a bit. "Ok, ok, relax K.P. I actually studied this time, and I think I've got a good shot at a 'B'."
"Ron, you really need to take academics more seriously," Kim said, lecturing in spite of herself. "How are you going to get into college with mediocre grades?"
"I know, I know," Ron held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "But that's years away, and right now I have more important things on my mind."
"Oh really?" Kim asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. "And those things would be..?"
Ron smirked. "Which of the lucky ladies of Middleton High is going to the Homecoming dance with yours truly, that's what those things would be."
Kim couldn't help but roll her eyes, but she followed up with a sincere question. "Who have you asked so far?"
Ron took a deep breath. "Let's see…Adele, Amy, Anna, Audrey, Becky, Betty, Bonnie…" As he ticked off a list that seemed destined to include half the girls in their class, Kim felt a pang of sympathy. She and Ron had gone to school functions together until quite recently, not as a couple, but as friends. When she had finally decided it was time to start going with proper dates Ron had been…hurt. Add in the fact that Kim had no trouble getting dates, in fact had been asked by quite a number of boys, and she even felt a little guilty. Paul Pickering had been devastated when she turned him down, and she knew how hard it had been for him to work up the nerve to ask her. And she had let him down as gently as she could. Some of the girls on Ron's list wouldn't have been so nice, and some would have been downright mean about it. Of course, she reflected as Ron came to the end of his list, Ron was more than a little oblivious to such things.
"So anyway," Ron said, "I've got two weeks, and plenty of potential dates yet to ask. How about you?"
Kim blushed a little, more for how she knew Ron would react to what she was about to say than anything else. "Uh, I'm going with Josh. He asked me last week." Ron scowled. "Mankey, eh?"
"That's right. You aren't going to bring up that Mankey/monkey thing again are you?"
The scowl vanished as quickly as it had come. "Nah," he said with a dismissive wave.
"Good. Anyway, if you're interested I know someone who might like to go with you."
Ron's face lit up, "Really?" Kim nodded. "Wow! Who is..." Ron's expression changed suddenly. "No," his said haughtily. "I appreciate the thought K.P., but I can and will get my own date."
"Ron, there's no shame in being introduced to someone by a friend."
"I know, Kim," Ron said, "and I know you mean well, but I really want, no, I need to do this myself."
"Well, if you're sure," Kim gave in, not wanting to hurt Ron's pride anymore than she already had. "I'm sure," Ron said. He gave her an unfeigned grin. "I appreciate the offering though."
"Just let me know if you cha..." A familiar beeping interrupted her. As Ron moved to look over her shoulder Kim pulled out her Kimmunicator and activated it.
"Hey Wade, what's the sitch?"
"Trouble in Colorado Kim," said the moon faced ten-year-old boy who was Kim's technology guru. The Kimmunicator's screen flickered as it went to picture-in-picture mode and Wade brought up a panoramic view of a half dozen semi-trucks, some of whose trailers had been ripped open. From the tiny box in the upper left corner of the screen Wade went on, "An Army convey headed for Oregon was ambushed west of Denver on Interstate 70, just short of the Eisenhower Tunnel."
"Who did the ambushing?"
"I got this video from the Tunnel approach monitors," Wade said. "It's a little fuzzy but I think you'll recognize the guilty parties." With that, the video began to run. It opened with the trucks approaching the tunnel, then halting as the lead truck's engine was blown out. Helicopters swooped in, dropping figures that could only be henchmen on the stalled convoy, even as the soldiers escorting the convoy piled out of their vehicles to defend it. The video cut to a closer view, framing a lithe woman in a familiar green and black jumpsuit, apparently shouting orders against a backdrop of roiling smoke. Then the scene dissolved in snowy static, and Wade's image refilled the screen.
"Shego," Kim uttered the name as if it left a bitter taste in her mouth. "And where there's Shego…" Ron filled in. "…there's Drakken," Kim finished. "We'll need a ride Wade."
"Already on it's way. ETA: thirty minutes."