Mission: Untitled


Put this picture into your head.

You graduated. You moved into your dorm at college. You started your classes. You suddenly realize you have a lot more time on your hands than you used to, and are a lot better at this school thing than you thought you were. Your roommate-and girlfriend (how you pulled that one off-you will never know) - is in a depressed mood. You've tried all that you know to snap her out of it, even some suggestions from your psychology book and a trustworthy website online, but nothing has come out a successful mission.

That's another thing.

Lately, you've been calling the stupidest things 'missions'. Like, going out for milk, is a mission. Study Spanish-so a mission. Anything that required conscious thought was a mission in your book.

Anyway, your girlfriend is in a depressed mood. You can't do anything to help except try to make her smile. You know why she's depressed. It's the same reason why you call everything in your life a mission.

Something's missing.

One night, you're in the study room, (also known as 'your old room') trying to give your girlfriend some space, thinking that might help. It doesn't last for long since she calls out your name from the living area.

"RON!"

You run in, worst thoughts coming to mind, like, Monkey Fist had returned for a final battle to decide who is the one and only true Monkey King and who is the worthless primate.

All Kim had done was turn on the TV.

Ron let out a sigh, secretly upset over the fact that it wasn't Monkey Fist.

"What's wrong?"

She raised her hand and pointed at the television. Ron made her way towards her and faced the television. From there, Ron shouted.

A lot.

"NO! We have to do something! We did not just spend three years trying to capture theses guys to have them walking the streets of Upperton! NO!"

"The TV says that their names are Drew and Susan. Shego's name is Susan-awesome."

"What has gotten into you?"

Kim blinked.

"Why am I the one freaking out, and you the one all calm?"

Kim shrugged, "Why are they even on the TV?"

Ron faltered, suddenly just as curious. Kim leaned down to the TV and pressed the volume up.

". . . you know, just trying to be good citizens!" said Shego, obviously forced.

The preppy news announcer turned around, "well their you have it folks, just two citizens of Upperton, helping a family out of their demolished car before the train could go and make it worse. Obviously, they are a wonderful example of what everyone in this town should try to be. Back to you, Stan."

"Thanks Sarah that is a wonderful story, now for the weekend outlook. What do you think Mike, is it going to be sunny or rai-"

We'll never know what Mike thought the weekend's weather would be like because Ron had shut off the TV.

"No way."


"Damn it, Drew, one of these days, we're going to get caught!" Shego yelled as she unlocked her front door.

They walked into the entrance hall, taking off their coats, "we didn't."

She turned sharply, "we were on Television. Who knows who saw us!"

"What kind of nit-wit watches channel thirteen, it's unlucky!"

"We watch channel thirteen ya' nitwit!"

Drakken sat still for a moment, "oh."

"On top of that, you had to feel sorry for the man that ran out of gas on the train tracks."

"It was cold out, he had plenty of gas, or else the car wouldn't have blown up like it did, and he had twins in the back seat!"

"Babies."

"Exactly!"

Shego took a deep breath, "You are exactly like your mother."

Drakken gasped, "I am most certainly not! Now, I'm going to go bake some sugar cookies for the neighbors and then I'm off to the basement. If you need me . . ."

"I know, I know," Shego trailed, "just knock!" She made her way up the stairs, "With out the flux visulator, you aren't going to get far in the basement tonight, are you?"

"There will be other flux visulators!" he called from the kitchen.

She sighed, "Not for the next three months," she said under her breath as she rubbed her neck. She turned toward her bed room, threw her blouse on her bed and walked straight into her bathroom. Starting the water for a bath, Shego stared into the mirror above her sink.

She hadn't changed much, her dark hair still long, her thin frame still thin. Her green skin had gotten lighter though, due to lack of the tropical lair. She was in North Colorado for Pete's sake; she covered up most of the time just to attempt to stay warm.

Her bath was the only way she ever truly achieved her goal of keeping heat within her frame. She had just poured in her favorite bubble soap when the doorbell rung. She rolled her eyes, knowing that she'd somehow get pulled downstairs by Drakken's stupid enthusiasm of another door-to-door salesman.

She pulled her bathrobe on tightly around her and braced herself for the lack of bubbly heat her bedroom would procure.

Just as she opened her bed room door, "Susan!"

"Drew! We are not buying anymore wonder-knives, or encyclopedias."

"I still use those knives," he said from the bottom of the stairs, hands on his hips. He adjusted his apron. "And who knows, we might need those information providers!"

"It's called the internet."

He sighed, obviously frustrated. "Just come down here. We have visitors."

"I swear if they are in matching suits carrying briefcases I will-so help me God . . ." she said, hands beginning to glow a bright green at her fingertips.

"I know, I know," he said, turning from her with a wave of his hand, "You'll tear me apart limb from limb with your own hands and feed me to the dog you won't let me have."

The glow stopped and Shego descended the stairs, "At least we have an understanding."

When she reached the bottom his lips curved up into a sinister smirk, "Well, they are in matching uniforms."

Shego stood for a second before what he said sunk in, "DREW!" She lunged for the blue man, taking flight from the bottom step.

"Hey sis, you don't want us to report this as a domestic disturbance do you? We just decided to drop in and see what was up!"

"Yeah! We saw you on TV! Is our baby sister rejoining the passage of do-gooders?"

Shego rolled her eyes, "No. It was all him." She roughly pointed to Drakken.

Drakken rolled his eyes, "Twins!"

She threw her hands up in frustration, "Doesn't matter!"

"You are so . . . so . . . so evil sometimes!" Drakken shouted from behind his 'light red' (or so he calls it-Shego calls it 'pink') apron.

Shego crossed her arms, "thank you." She threw her head back and stuck her nose in the air.

"And frustrating!"

"Thank you!" She started back up the stairs.

"And rude!"

"Thank you!" she bent her knee and lifted her weight as she threw a wave over her shoulder.

"And SELFISH!"

"Thank you, and unless you have anything left to add to the list Drew, I'm going to take my bath now, and, as always, dear brothers, GET OUT!" Her hands glowing, a warning her brothers weren't taking.

Hego cocked his head and popped his neck, "We were just wondering, baby sister, what you were doing so far north."

Shego was still for a moment, racking her brain for anything that could be that far north. The only thing that far was the train station and the Upperton Dump.

OH! And . . .

"The drive in. We went to the movies!"

"What did you see?" Mego directed this question to Drakken.

Who answered, very smoothly, "The new Heather and Quinn movie."

Wego jumped, "The Heather? And The Quinn? I've been dying to see that! Was it any good?"

Drakken leaned back and stroked his chin with his two fingers, "well, the acting was superb, to be expected, and the story line and plot was wonderful, but the cinematography was slightly dull. I give it a solid B."

Wego shivered in youthful glee-"Sweet! I knew it!"

"Uh, Me? Bath. You? Gone. Like? Now." Shego said from the top of the stairs.

"Same ol' Susan," sighed Mego.

"I guess their story clears. Go Team . . . away!" Hego shouted, and in a flash of bright glowing rainbow light, they were gone.

"That was unbelievably unnecessary."

"No," said Drakken, "What was unnecessary, was your brothers leaving through the front door with it closed."

"That's what I was talkin' about, Dr. D. If you need me, deal with it on your own."

"Oh."


"No way."

"What are we going to do Ron? We have to do something! Anything!"

"What can we do Kim? Send them a warning in the shape of a cookie platter?"

Just as Ron's seemingly sarcastic statment floated across Kimberly Ann Possible's consciousness, the first true smile in weeks had filtered across Ronald Arnold Stoppable's face. It was written all over her face.

Kim Possible had a mission, and Ron was sure he was along for the ride.


Alright, the true plot is about to begin!

Heather and Quinn do actually belong to disney . . . sad but ok with me.