Notes: I know I shouldn't be starting another series, but this idea hasn't left me alone since I've begun reading kigo fics. After watching Stop Team Go, I had to do this. All manners of feedback (as usual) are welcomed!

Go Team Possible!

by Yimmy

Episode 1: A New Sitch

Part 1

Another day at Middleton High meant another class with Mr. Barkin. The permanent substitute teacher seemed to be everywhere, namely everywhere Kim Possible—head cheerleader, world-class super spy, and former babysitter—didn't want him to be. The man demanded attention and energy, two things she did not have since the previous night consisted of her flying to the Caribbean to deal with Senor Senior Senior's newest venture: pirating on the high seas. She smelled like fish, had no sleep, felt like a frigate ran her over, and didn't have her history homework done.

Which was why she so did not want to see Mr. Barkin stalking around at the front of the class like a rabid animal.

"Ms. Flowers tells me you had to answer some questions about the World War I. I'm here to collect."

His massive chin jutted out further as he surveyed his students. He sized each of them up, his instincts probing for fear, fear of homework undone and the threat of detention. There! In the back of the class, a familiar face had an unfamiliar expression on it.

"Possible," said Mr. Barkin in a too casual voice, "I don't see any homework on your desk. Where is it?"

"Well, you see," Kim squirmed, "I kinda had this… thing and…"

From the right side of the room, Bonnie Rockwaller pounced on her rival's uneasiness. "Oooo, wouldn't you know it? K doesn't have her homework! What happened? Out saving the world from mutant snowmen again?"

"Sorry, I didn't see you or sisters last night, B."

"Oh, you didn't go there!"

"I went there, took pictures, and came back!"

"Possible! Rockwaller!" Mr. Barkin roared. He turned first to the brunette and pinned her down with his fiercest, sternest sneer. "You do not disrespect your classmates or speak out of turn, young lady."

"But I-"

"But nothing, Rockwaller, I'll see you in detention today. Now," the man turned to a frightened and flushed Kim, "as for you, Possible, I expected more. No homework, no manne-"

The deafening slam of the door closing startled the entire class. Every single eye focused on the newcomer wearing dark sunglasses, a pair of tight, black jeans, and a hunter green tank top. A black backpack slung over one shoulder, a green iPod on her waist, and a slight smirk tugging on these thin, glossy lips finished the almost-trademark ensemble.

"Would you look at this: it's her highness, Ms. Goliac. Class begins at 8:30 AM and not at your convenience!"

Ms. Goliac—Sheena Goliac on her drivers license, Shego to her friends—whipped out a note from her pocket and stuck it in her teacher's face.

A befuddled Mr. Barkin read aloud, "'Please excuse Sheena for her tardiness this morning. There was a major car accident on the Middleton Bridge which we were stuck behind. Sincerely Mrs. Goliac.'" He peered over the slip of paper and caught a face-full of Shego's winningest smile. "A likely story," he grimaced. "Get to your seat and I won't have you picking trash after school! Now, as for Possi -"


"What now?!" Mr. Barkin howled, fury and spit ready to spill forth from his foaming mouth like Mount St. Helens' lava.

Shego threw her backpack on the ground, rifled through the contents, and produced a folder which she promptly slapped on Kim's desk. "You forgot your history homework at my house," the black hair girl winked. "Thought you'd like it back, Pumpkin."

"Please and thank you," breathed Kim as she wiped the sweat from her forehead.

Mr. Barkin observed Shego suspiciously as the girl took her customary seat next to her partner in crime (and occasionally justice). Deciding his class had been delayed enough by these antics, he gave the redhead one final, poignant glare. "Possible, I'm giving you detention for insulting Rockwaller. You might have your homework, but you're not above common decency. While what Rockwaller said was out of line, you cannot retaliate like you did in class!"

"What if they kiss and make up?"

Bonnie, Kim, and Mr. Barkin each boomed, "No!"

Shego shook her head and folded her arms. "Mr. Barkin, I'm sure whatever happened was a misunderstanding between Kim and Bonnie. I mean, do you really want to stay after school to watch those two, especially when it's such a nice day out?"

"It is quite sunny," the man allowed.

"And aren't you always telling us to be mature, responsible adults? Isn't forgiving and forgetting as mature as you can get? Mr. Barkin, we're seniors now, and I think having them apologize to each other will send a great message to the freshmen, sophomores, and juniors about what maturity is."

"Hmm… you do bring up a valid point…"

Shego eyed the two cheerleaders. "Well?"

Taking a deep breath, the redhead gathered her willpower to force out a strained, "I'm sorry, Bonnie."

An infinitely more heartfelt "Up yours, Possible" followed.


As Mr. Barkin focused his wrath on Bonnie, Kim leaned over to her best friend and whispered, "Where'd you get this? I didn't even do last night's homework."

"Who said anything about last night's homework?" scoffed Shego. "I said you had history homework in there, not last night's history homework."

The two shared a devious smile and a covert low-five before Mr. Barkin stomped back to the front of the room to begin class.

"I'm telling you, Pumpkin, you've got to put that girl back in her place. You know, like WHAM," an enthusiastic swing of a backpack followed the word, "with a loaded pom-pom. She'd think twice about dissin' you… and eating solid food."

Picking her way through the lunch rush, Kim sighed as she neared the lockers. "Bonnie is not worth getting a bad mark put on my record. Besides, she's 'high school' level threat, nothing like Monkeyfist or Zorpox."

"Record this, record that, I don't care about getting a mark on my record. What do you say? Want me to make her the next Nancy Kerrigan?"

"Shego! So not the drama. And so not funny either! Nancy Kerrigan got really hurt!"

The black haired girl raised her hands in defeat. "Ok, ok, I'm just saying though. It's not like fashion designers have to have sparkling clean records to make clothes. Look at Martha Stewart."

To the matter-of-fact self-assessment, Kim responded with an uncomfortable silence. Ever since they were in preschool, that's all Shego wanted to be: a fashion designer. The girl wanted people around the world to wear her clothes, look good, and feel good about themselves. Some of the very first games they played? Dress up, and every time Shego made the outfits more outrageous, more daring. Fashion was her world, and despite her being good at it, Kim felt her best friend could do so much more with herself.

For one thing, Shego was smart—lazy too, but really smart. Since classes bored her, she always did the bare minimum to skate by, her garnered "free time" used to doodle out sketches of clothes and not to proofread book reports. Second, Shego was athletic. Had to be since she was half of Team Possible, the dynamic, world-saving duo who used their martial prowess to defeat all manners of villainy. Third, well, Shego had this way with people, the ability to wrap anyone around her finger. The way she talked, the way she carried herself, she was so charismatic, so easy to like. All the brains, body, and beauty, and her greatest ambition was to design clothes?

Kim couldn't understand it, and ever since they'd been applying to colleges, she worried about Shego more and more. Yes, both of them loved clothes, but clothes were clothes! It wasn't a career! Not like it was Kim's place to worry or anything, but she worried, especially seeing how serious Shego was. Objectively, Shego wasn't taking advantage of her talents; selfishly, Kim felt like they'd been drifting apart.

There weren't a lot of schools that boasted both great fashion design and criminology programs.

"Whoa," said Shego as she stopped Kim from walking past their lockers, "you were a million miles away. What gives?"

"Just thinking," Kim shrugged, fumbling with her combination.


"College and stuff. It's a big step."

"It's gonna be same old, same old," Shego dismissed. "We're going to get into whichever school we want, kick some evil villain butt between classes, and goof around on weekends. How's that different from now?"

"Yeah, but I was thinking about the future, like after school."

Upon Kim's locker opening, a picture taped onto the inside of the door snared Shego's customarily hummingbird-like attention. "Pumpkin," she squealed in delight, "where'd you get that?!"

The photo showed the two girls in full mission regalia—Kim in her midriff baring shirt and cargos, Shego in her black and green body suit—perched atop Middleton's city hall while waving goodbye to a news crew who filmed their efforts to stop Duff Killigan from turning the building into a giant windmill for his new "miniature" golf course. It showed Kim with one hand reaching for a rope ladder dropped from a helicopter just out of view and Shego on one knee in front of the redhead; both smiled broadly at another job well done. The quintessential shot ended up on GJ's recruiting brochure proclaiming, "Team Possible Conquers the Impossible!"

"Fun times," nodded Shego.

A distant "Sure was" from Kim broke the mood though.

"Spill it: you're terrible at hiding how something is bothering you."

"Do you want to be doing this?"

A blank stare met the question. "Erm, need more details here."

"This," emphasized Kim, pointing to the Team Possible picture, "working for GJ, taking on villains, and saving the world from ninja monkeys."

"Of course I want to be doing it. Can't let you have all the fun, can I?"

"But it takes up so much time and I know you're not interested in doing this law enforcement stuff later on."

"Whoa, are you kicking me out of Team Possible?"

"What? No!"

"Then what are you saying, Pumpkin? If you ask me, sounds a lot like you don't want my help anymore."

Kim bowed her head and focused on the ground. "I feel bad about dragging you along for every mission, Shego. I mean, for the past few months, I've been running on four hours of sleep every night. It sucks, but I choose to do this. I chose to set up a website and help people. I want to go to college, major in criminology, and join GJ as a full-fledged agent. Through all of this, you're wherever I need you, watching my back, holding off henchmen, and fishing me out of deathtraps when I get in over my head. I… I… I guess I feel like I've been a crummy best friend lately. Everything we do is all about me, and I forget that you have a life too, that you're probably just as tired as I am, that I'm being real selfish."

"Don't go all Clay Aiken, mopey eyed, emo-kid on me," Shego chuckled as she hugged Kim. "Best friends stick together, period. You say you choose to do all that crazy super agent stuff; well, I choose to back you up whenever and wherever you need it. We've been inseparable ever since pre-K and I'm not about to find a new best friend now."

"Still, you've got to be-"

"Sorry to break it to you, Kimmie, but we come as a pair. Who kept me from getting squished when DNAmy's turtle-gorilla thing got loose? Who cut English class just to get me my PE clothes that I forgot at home? Who is my only constant ally against my crazy brothers? That's what makes you the greatest: you care and you make it known. You think I'd hang out with conceited losers like Bonnie and her minions? Um, hell no. You think I give my Club Banana manager's discount to anybody? Like, dream on. Stop guilt tripping yourself because seriously, it's no big."

The redhead smiled sheepishly. "You sure?"

"Swear on a raspberry, triple cookie, neapolitan, banana split float sure."

"Bleah," Kim shuddered at the concoction's mention, "I don't know how you eat that."

"With a spoon and a ginormous appetite."

Like all good conversations, it came to screeching halt when both girls' Kimmunicators belted its distinctive ring tone. Kim flipped hers out while Shego peered over her friend's shoulder.

"Hey Drew," greeted Kim, "what's the sitch?"

The blue hued, braces wearing boy genius—clad in his trademark reversed hat and Go City Bombers baseball shirt—waved at the pair. "Hey KP, Shego! Got a hit on the website saying Zorpox and Monique are robbing the Bueno Nacho by Middleton High."

Shego's turn to shudder. "Bueno Nacho? Like total gross gag."

"This coming from Ms. Raspberry, Triple Cookie, Neapolitan, Banana Split Float?"

"Watch it, Pumpkin."

"Ahem," coughed Drew, "looks like Zorpox is up to something too because he's not leaving even though he has the cash."

Kim rolled her eyes. "He's always up to something. We'll be there in a few minutes."

"Do you two need a ride?"

"It's Bueno Nacho, Drew. I think the chimurtos can manage while Shego and I run there."

- To be continued...