Yet Another Kigo Fic!

By Ken-Zero

Disclaimer: Absolutely none of these characters are my creation. They all belong to Disney, and I'm just taking them out for a spin. Borrowing the keys, so to speak. And now, on with the show!

Shego was angry.

Scratch that: Shego was very angry. In fact, were someone to walk up to her right now they would be lucky to leave her without second-degree burns and with even a scrap of their clothing and no concussion and…

She ended that train of thought before it could exacerbate her already foul mood even further. Instead she focused on why she was angry, which didn't help improve her mood…but at least it didn't make it worse, either.

Shego was angry because she'd been ditched, in several senses of the word.

It had been had enough at the start of the day. She'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed—That wrong side must be the top side, she reflected sullenly—only to have Dr. Drakken surprise her with an earlier-than-usual dose of his over-the-top shouting. After sending him fleeing with a well-placed shot of plasma at his feet—Okay, fine, I missed, she admitted to herself—she'd dragged herself through the motions of getting ready.

When she had finally finished slipping into her trademark catsuit and sealing its collar, she had slipped into Drakken's main lair with nary a sound, sneaking up and tapping his shoulder. His expression was priceless, as always, and the brief flash of amusement had lightened her mood slightly.

Then he had started to talk—once he had calmed down enough to form coherent sentences, that is.

As usual, he'd tried for some overly complicated, nigh-unstoppable, and easily-foiled scheme, ranting about his genius in creating the "Long Range Thermodynamic Instant De-Sapperizer" and expounding about what he was going to do with Canada when the maple syrup industry dried up (pun fully intended, Shego had been sure) and he took over the suddenly-financially-strapped country and renamed it after himself. Shego was still privately amazed that he wanted to take over Canada again—that he would once again rename it Drakkanada was just icing on the cake.

Also as usual, he'd gotten about three-quarters of the way into implementing his plan when Princess and her buffoonish sidekick had shown up. Things had proceeded on par for the course, with Shego and Kim Possible duke-ing it out between themselves and Drakken and Ron Stoppable rolling around looking like the imbeciles they were. Shego and Kim had actually paused in their own fight to watch, Kim in morbid fascination and Shego in pure amusement. Of course, the buffon had somehow managed to cross some wires or something, or maybe that naked mole thingy of his had gotten to wreak some of its own special brand of havoc, but regardless of how it had happened, the Long-Range Thermowhatever Thingy had essentially imploded, leaving a smoking patch on the ground the only proof of its past existence. Drakken had panicked, Princess had been all smug, the doofus and his rat had been clueless, and Shego was simply ready to call it a day.

Business as usual. Hey, at least she got paid for it. And besides, fighting Kimmie was always fun.

The wrong twist had come as Shego and Drakken prepared to flee the scene. Drakken had remotely called his hovercraft, which had arrived, and he clambered into it, dropping the rope ladder over the side for Shego to grab while she was still keeping Pumpkin busy. Shego had grabbed a rung and was taken away…completely failing to look up as she cast a smirk back at her archrival.

It would have saved her some humiliation to have done so, she reflected currently.

The rope ladder had…well, snapped, not thirty feet from where she'd grabbed onto it. Unfortunately, Drakken's penchant for building lairs on remote mountaintop locations had come back to bite her in the butt.

At the steep angles of the mountaintops he favored, thirty feet forward equated to a long drop downward…and without anything to grip, she just kept going down.

Eventually she'd slowed when the ground began to level out, but her momentum was such that if she tried to grab something to stop herself, she'd dislocate her shoulder, or worse. So she kept rolling until she came to rest…by falling another few feet into a random, conveniently-placed drainage ditch.

She'd been there for a long time. Fortunately, with her elevated body temperature thanks to that stupid meteorite from her childhood, she wasn't in danger of freezing to death, even while soaking wet in the frigid conditions of umpteen-thousand-feet of elevation. Unfortunately, Drakken seemed not to have noticed she was missing yet, and Miss Goody-Two-Shoes probably hadn't seen her fall, which meant it was unlikely she was going to get any assistance—hence the other meaning of being ditched.

Story of her life, after all.

Hours later, back in the present, Shego was currently trudging her way back up to the remnants of the lair—the imploding superweapon had created quite a nice power surge that popped every single transformer and generator in the entire facility, and the explosions were rather spectacular—and thinking to herself that she was going to take another vacation from her time with Drakken. After all, what with saving the world with him only to get right back into the conquering business…well, she felt like she deserved a break. And if Drakken challenged her on it, well, she'd demonstrated time and again in the past that only Shego ran Shego's life. Claws and plasma were nice deterrents from meddlesome employers.

With a tired sigh she heaved herself over the lip of the last cliff between her fall and the target of her climb. She wasn't totally surprised to see no one there, so she turned back to her path and let loose with a double-handed plasma shot that flashed a bunch of snow to steam and shook the mountainside even further. She was only partially satisfied to see a small avalanche start just below where her shot had impacted, but it was still some satisfaction, and she resumed the short trek to her destination. Another plasma shot erupted the snow and rocks from their locations, and when the steam and smoke cleared a pair of sliding metal doors barred her way into a tunnel dug almost vertically into the mountain side.

Shego put her hands on the doors and ignited her plasma. The heat sensors hidden behind the closed doors picked up the sudden temperature spike, rising to a level only found comfortable by man-made materials and Shego, and tripped a signal circuit, sending the open command to the doors. They ground open and Shego stepped inside, being careful to only take one step lest she plummet yet again

Beyond that first stair the tunnel dropped sharply at the same nearly vertical pitch the doors suggested outside. As she settled on it, though, lights came on at regular intervals down the length of the tunnel. A piece of the floor next to Shego separated and rose a few inches. She stepped onto it and swiftly it began to sweep down the tunnel. It didn't take long for the end of the tunnel to come into sight, and at it sat Shego's personal jet. She hadn't really had much of an excuse to use it since just before the Diablo incident. Oh, great, she thought, now even I'm calling it that. It seemed Kimmie was rubbing off on her.

Shego tossed that thought aside too as she grabbed her flightsuit from the cabinet that had just opened in front of her. She slipped it on over her catsuit and was devoutly thankful that her heat-the-doors-open trick had practically flash-dried her normal outfit. She didn't even try to pull her hair out of the suit, instead ramming the helmet onto her head and climbing into the cockpit. She ran through the normal pre-flight checklist in about ten seconds before engaging for launch. At the touch of a button she activated the aircraft carrier-grade steam catapult and was smushed back into her seat as the jet accelerated to nearly two hundred and fifty miles per hour in the maybe three hundred foot long tunnel.

As the jet practically exploded free of the tunnel, Shego pressed another button that activated the tunnel's separate self-destruct sequence. Winging over the area again she watched it demolish itself adequately before slipping the black and green craft into stealth mode and flitting off into the sunset.

She chased that sunset for a few hours, dropping stealth over the water and flying supersonic until she reached US airspace, going back under the radar when she arrived. Eventually she found what she was looking for, bringing her jet in for a soft landing in an abandoned superstore parking lot. As she taxied her plane a section of the lot lifted open and she slid into the secret hangar. As soon as her jet stopped moving the hangar hissed its way back under the surface of the parking lot, leaving nary a trace of her arrival.

Shego climbed back out, somewhat calmed by the hours flying alone, and made her way into the attached hideout after doffing both helmet and suit. She stripped out of the catsuit and hit the shower, relaxing nicely, especially after her tumble through the snow-capped mountain earlier. Finally she took a seat on the only luxurious piece of furniture in the entire place, a nice leather couch that was parked in front of a flat screen. She turned the screen on and was rewarded with the hours of mindless entertainment she wanted more than anything else at the moment.

Then her cell phone rang.

Irritated beyond belief, she looked at the offending device like she was going to nuke it right there. She didn't carry one with her while she was with Drakken or out on a job for him—he provided his own communication devices—but she did have one tucked away at each of the private hideaways she maintained from her pre-Drakken master thief days. Those hidey holes hadn't always been so high-tech…but Drakken paid very, very well, and discretionary contractors were plentiful when she looked hard enough.

With a growl she snapped the screen off and grabbed the phone. She didn't recognize the number it displayed, but the area code was familiar enough.

Kim Possible was angry.

Scratch that: Kim Possible was very angry. In fact, if Wade were to bother her right now with a mission or something, she would probably develop psychic powers on the spot just to strangle him through the screen of her Kimmunicator.

The reason for her anger had received her just desserts, Kim was pretty sure, having seen Shego plummet from the rope ladder Drakken had dropped to her to help her escape…and that had snapped, with Shego still on it, only a handful of feet away from the pick-up point.

Kim hadn't even felt like going to make sure the other woman was alright. Instead, she had grabbed Ron and trudged the two of them back to their waiting ride for their return to Middleton.

The plane ride back was uneventful; Kim had taken a nap in lieu of talking to Ron, or Wade, or even the pilot. Ron had nudged her awake on landing approach and she'd thanked the pilot then, but had remained silent and sullen all the way home from there.

Which led to right now. She was in her room, Ron having gone home because he needed to watch Hana, his baby sister, while his parents were gone for the night. Her Kimmunicator was off, her stereo was off, her computer was off as well; she felt like she wanted to forsake contact with the outside world until tomorrow lest she bite someone's head off for no real reason.

Given more time to think, she knew she was majorly tweaked only because of having to hare off and find Drakken and Shego again. Kim was sorely disappointed. That was why her anger: after the two villains had had a rather large hand in saving the world not three months ago, here they were again, trying to take that same world over themselves, and with a more harebrained scheme than usual—probably, she mused, to make up for lost time.

She'd had such high hopes after her graduation and the awards bestowed on Drakken and Shego. She'd seen a re-broadcast of that event, and the expression on Drakken's face was somewhat confused as he was gifted with the medallion, but Shego was practically beaming. Kim was sure Shego was proud of herself and what she'd done, especially since an act like that could only serve to fuel the other woman's ego…but apparently Kim had been mistaken. Or, possibly worse, she'd been absolutely correct, and now Shego thought she could get away with anything because she had some hero cred.

Some hours later Kim finally sighed. She'd worked through the most of her anger, and her inherent optimism and cheerful nature wouldn't let her stay angry any longer. Curiosity, though, could stay as long as it liked, apparently, as she was simply dying to find out why Shego—and Drakken, for that matter—were back in the super-villain biz.

Heaving another sigh she hoisted herself up off her bed and turned on her computer. Not four months ago she'd had Wade set up a specially protected folder on her system for which only she knew the several passwords required for access.

She entered them now, taking care to put them in the correct sequence.

The folder opened, displaying its contents. Kim selected the one file she was looking for: contact information for as many of her villainous enemies as she could get. She'd initially felt guilty about violating their privacy like that, but after discovering that not only was Dr. Drakken (or rather, Drew Lipsky) listed in several local phone books, but phone records existed for things from his lairs such as pizza deliveries and as-seen-on-TV orders, she'd felt decidedly less bad about it. After all, she reasoned, if John Q. Public could find his lair that easily, why shouldn't she be able to?

Also, it made it much easier to try and prank-call him. She'd done that once or twice. Of course, after the first time, she'd despaired that Shego was rubbing off on her, but she had to admit that hearing him panic about his refrigerator escaping while he chased after the inanimate object, leaving the phone off the hook, was beyond amusing. Hearing him scream "No! Not my pickles!" was probably the best part, she thought with a grin.

She gave herself a mental smack. Need to focus. She found the name and number she was looking for. This one was the most difficult to track down, if only because the records of its existence were so few and far between, but Wade had been more persistent than Kim had expected and had come through in the end.

Nodding, she picked up her own cell phone and dialed the number.

"You'd better pick up, Shego," she said softly to herself.

Shego stared at the caller ID on her phone as it rang.

"Who the hell knows me that lives in Middleton?" she wondered out loud. The one…well, two names that leapt to mind she discarded immediately: Princess was too lawful-good to snoop around phone company databases, or even to ask her nerdlinger friend to do so, and the buffoon…well, she wouldn't put it past Ron to forget Kimmie had a cellphone of her own, so no way would he think of it.

Cautiously she opened her phone and put it to her ear. "Hello?" she asked hesitantly.

"Shego? I'll let you guess who it is."

Shego frowned. Guess she's desperate? "What is it, Princess?" she asked warily. "Isn't this a bit…underhanded for you?"

"We need to talk."

Shego had to hold back a snort. "We're talking right now, aren't we?"

"Face to face, o snarky one," Kim's voice said back. Both of Shego's eyebrows went up.

"So we've graduated to name slinging," she said, her old humor coming back. "Congratulations, Cupcake. I didn't think you had it in either of your two goody shoes."

"Can it, Shego."

Whoah, Shego thought. She sounds more irritated than when I ruined her date night last year. "Alright, alright," she said, hoping to appease her conversation partner. "Assuming I even agree to this, how do I know you're not going to do something like bring GJ along with you?"

"Because…" Kim's voice faltered for a second. "Wow. Hadn't thought of that. Um, because I wouldn't do that if you agreed," she finished.

"You mean to tell me that you, of all people, would be willing to meet with me, a known and wanted criminal and, probably, fugitive, without bringing some Global Justice help along for the ride?"

"When you put it that way," Kim's voice chuckled, "I guess it does seem hard to believe. But yes, it'll just be you and me."

Shego smirked. "And that's the way I like it," she purred throatily.

There was a pause on the other end. Shego could picture Kimmie trying to figure that out—and she would be absolutely correct in her mental image, but she didn't know that. Finally, Kim replied, "So do we have to meet in some dark and shady alley?"

"Nah," Shego shrugged it off. In spite of their history—or perhaps because of it—she knew she could trust Kimmie to be alone. "Pick a place and I'll be there. Just, don't pick a church or something. That'd be too corny."

"Middleton Mall okay?"

"Sure thing, Princess. When do you want to do m—this?" She smiled as Kim's voice sputtered over her very intentional "slip of the tongue."

"Shego!" There was an aggravated sound. "Can you at least try to take me seriously?"

"You had me at 'take you,' Kimmie," Shego answered. God, but teasing her was fun.

"Aaargh!" Kim's frustrated noise made Shego laugh. "Fine. Tomorrow night, eight o'clock-ish."

"It's a date, dearie," Shego said, then hung up, ending the conversation.