A/N: So this "story" needs some explanation. It is actually a collection of one-shots with various plots that I have been thinking about. If there is one particular story that you like, please let me know by reviewing. If I get a lot of positive responses for one of them, then it will become a full-fledged story sometime in the near future.

Possible Beginnings

Story #1: All I See is You

"I want a divorce," Ron stated flatly.

Kim glanced over from the evening newscast she was watching. "I'm sorry; I must have heard wrong," she said. "Did you say that you wanted a divorce?" she clarified, puzzled.

"That is exactly what I said," Ron confirmed.

Kim flipped off the television and turned around. There was no humor in Ron's bearing at all; it was excessively clear that he wasn't joking. "Why on earth do you want a divorce?" Kim asked, her confusion and rising anger evident in her voice. "We've been married for twenty years, Ron. We have three kids. We are, or at least I thought we were, happily married. Is this some sort of midlife crisis?"

"No, it's not," Ron replied. He sighed. "Look, Kim, in spite of what you think, we have never been happily married. Sure, we have pretended to be, but we never have been. The only time in this entire relationship I can ever remember feeling joy is when the kids were born."

"How can you say that, Ron?" Kim demanded, baffled by the sudden turnaround and more than a little pissed off by it. "After everything that we have been through, you tell me this now?" She wanted to say more, but she was angry and her thoughts weren't coming clearly like they should. One thought did surface, though, and it angered Kim even more. "Is there someone else?" she asked quietly, not wanting to hear the answer.

"Yes," Ron answered. "But I am not the one who has been cheating."

"I'm the unfaithful one?" Kim asked incredulously. "When? In the four hours a day I actually have to sleep? And who is this mystery person that I would sacrifice what little free time I have?"

"It's not a person, Kim," Ron contradicted. "It is everything. Your job, your career, saving the world, even the kids…you love them all more than you love me."

"I do not," Kim objected.

"Yes, you do," Ron countered. "And even before all that, even before your job and the kids took over our lives, you still never loved me as much as I loved you. The only one you ever loved like that was her."

"Was she," Kim corrected distractedly, her thoughts jumping from the situation at hand to the person he was referring to.

"Whatever. You know who I am talking about, Kim," Ron said sadly, and Kim did know who he was talking about. He was talking about the only person who had ever come between them, the woman she had reformed, the woman who had stolen her heart, and the woman who had ultimately perished in her arms. She didn't say anything, and she didn't have to. Ron already knew he was right. "I'll be back in the morning for my stuff," he said. He turned and left, leaving Kim to reminisce about times long gone by.

Story #2: Little Liar

Jail sucked, Shego thought. She hated this place; she hated the smell, the people, the lack of freedom, and most of all, she hated the reality that if she was here, it meant she had been stupid enough to get caught. Well, maybe not stupid enough to get caught, but at least stupid enough to get sucked into one of Drakken's inane schemes that ended up in a fight with Kim Possible.

The second scenario is what had made her end up here, in a cramped cell with a snoring bunkmate. She thought about shutting her up somehow, but her bunkmate was actually a very sweet person who she didn't want to bother. Her bunkmate was also a very sweet person who was in for premeditated murder, so Shego didn't want to get on her bad side. So, unable to sleep, she simply lay on her bunk, thinking about what went wrong and how she could get her revenge on Kim.

Her reason for revenge was not an innate dislike of Kim; she liked Kim and knew that she did. In fact, if she were truly honest with herself, she more than liked Kim; she was in love with Kim, and that was why this latest run-in with Kim had hurt her so deeply.

Kim had said that she hated her and had followed up that statement by kicking her off a roof into an electrified tower. Because of her superpowers, she hadn't died, but she could have, and Kim must have known that before she sent her plunging toward the tower. As she fell, she could even remember seeing Kim smirk as she dropped closer and closer to her potential death. In that smirk she finally realized that Kim did hate her, and that all of her completely unrealistic, yet completely cherished hopes that they might be together one day were nothing more than fantasies.

She had hit the tower and blacked out, only to find herself in the back of a police wagon when she awoke. She had been tried and convicted and had been sent here. She had played the good criminal so far and had stayed behind bars, biding her time and trying to put the past behind her. But now, remembering what Kim had done to her sent a new determination through her, one that was mixed with an emotion she had never felt for Kim: hatred. Kim had tried to kill her and she was going to find out what true evil really was. Using her plasma to obliterate the wall, she jumped to freedom, leaving behind a cacophony of alarms and confusion. "Leaving me alive will be the worst mistake you ever made, Princess," Shego swore to the night as she stalked towards her revenge.

Story #3: Mesopotamia

Dracus Maximus, ruler of the known world, sat on his throne in his magnificent palace surrounded by all of the finery that being ruler of the known world afforded one to have. But all that mattered little now, as he scowled in anger at the report that a messenger was bringing about his campaign on the outskirts of Mesopotamia.

"We have suffered heavy losses, your Excellency," the messenger told him. "Young Ronnicus the Gladiator has stifled every attempt we have made to overrun his line, and our troops are being led to a slaughter. Even when we have meager successes and he suffers some losses, he recruits more and more people to his cause daily. We are outnumbered and fighting in foreign territory, and the generals are doubtful that we can defeat them."

"Then they do not deserve to be called generals of Rome," a new voice declared. All eyes turned to see Caecelius, only child of Dracus, enter the room, and all eyes remained transfixed as she strode through the room to stand next to her father. She shared his jet-black hair, but otherwise there was little resemblance between the teenaged beauty and her plain-looking sire. There was also little similitude between their dispositions. Dracus was a despot, wantonly cruel to his people and selectively intelligent in ruling them. He had come to the throne with little prowess in the fighting arts and the army served him only out of loyalty to his father. Caecelius, conversely, held the respect of the men in her palace guard command, for she was a cunning warrior known for her brilliant tactical strategies. She also cared for Rome and her people, unlike her father, and most of the Roman aristocracy eagerly anticipated the day when she would succeed her father as Empress of Rome.

"Quite right," Dracus agreed. "And he who speaks for them will feel their disgrace. Kill him," he said, indicating the messenger.

"Belay that order," Caecelius ordered in a tone that brooked no disagreement. It was rumored that the Emperor himself would not countermand one of her orders if given in such a tone, and verily, he did nothing to rebuke her for her impudence, even though it should have meant death. "I may yet have use for him," she explained.

Dracus knew his daughter well enough to know that some sort of nascent plan was forming in her mind; she just had that look about her. "What is your thought, Daughter?" he asked.

"Give me a regiment of soldiers," she requested. "Let them see what a true Roman general is capable of."

"You are not a general," her father reminded her. "Your accomplishments have won you command of the palace guard, but that is all."

"Then let me prove my worthiness," she countered. "Let me take my best men, and I promise you we will crush them. I know Ronnicus of old; I had occasion to know him from his time spent in the arenas of Rome and he is a buffoon. There has to be another that is the true commander. We will find him and rid you of him"

"And what will such a favor cost me?' her father asked, knowing that their must be a price.

"I become a general with my own command," Caecelius replied. "And it is publicly declared before all Rome that I am your heir and successor."

"Very well," Dracus agreed. He was not conceding much; she was his only child and it had been assumed for years that she would succeed him.

"Then I will leave tonight," Caecelius declared. "You," she said, pointing to the still terrified messenger. "Come with me. I require your assistance." When he did not move, she grabbed him by the front of his tunic and dragged him to his feet. "If I have to repeat an order, it will not bode well for you," she warned. He came to his senses, and meekly followed her as she swept out of the room.