Recommended prerequisite reading: "A Small Possibility" by nodrogs
This story was posted with the permission (if not the endorsement) of nodrogs, the creator of Kasy Ann and Sheki Go Possible. Their appearance here should be considered AU and in no way related to any of the stories by nodrogs (or anyone else, really) in which they are featured. The Small Possibilities series is wonderful; start with "A Small Possibility" and I know that you will not need me to prompt you to read the entire series at least once.
The other characters in this story are the property of Disney. I make no monetary gain from their use (so don't sue me).
I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. And so, without any further ado, I give you…
In Human Nature…
(A Kim Possible fanfiction)
It had been a long, tiring day for Kim Possible, and she was glad to be home at last. Betty Director, the head of Global Justice, had been working Kim relentlessly the past few weeks, as they tracked down the leader of a ring of Cuddle Buddy counterfeiters. Passing their bogus toys off as rare and collectable Cuddle Buddies, these criminals had been threatening to upset collectable trade markets worldwide. Kim, herself a Cuddle Buddy aficionado, had taken the case with much enthusiasm.
She truly enjoyed the work, but these last few missions had kept Kim away from her girls far too long, and had left her physically drained to the point that she slept most of the little time she was able to spend at home. Rewarding? Working for GJ certainly was that, but lately Kim had begun to wonder what cost it would have on her family.
Kim was still an "unaffiliated associate," only doing freelance work for Global Justice. As such, she was free to accept or turn down any assignment, but Betty knew that Kim's pride would never allow her to refuse a challenge. As long as the missions didn't require her to do anything immoral, Kim would always accept them. After all, as she herself proudly claimed, Kim Possible could do anything. And Betty took full advantage of that fact.
Slipping her key in the lock, Kim opened the door to her home. She cringed at first, expecting the double onslaught of her two rather rambunctious young daughters, Kasy Ann and Sheki Go. When it didn't come, Kim stepped inside, drawing breath to announce the fact that mommy was, in fact, home.
That breath caught in her throat. Something was wrong. Kim wasn't really sure what exactly, but something definitely wasn't right.
Closing the door silently behind her, Kim crept slowly through the downstairs of the house. Everything was quiet; nothing was out-of-place. As she went from room to room, Kim slowly realized that was what had made her uneasy - the house was just as she had left it that morning
What's the sitch here? Kim thought to herself. It should be a total mess… For her wife Shego and their two daughters to have had free run of the house all day and not left it a complete disaster was too much to hope for. Her mind racing, playing one wild scenario after another in her head, Kim reached the stairs. Peering up, Kim saw a dark streak burned into the wall of the hallway above. Her worst fears thus confirmed, her heart leapt up in her throat, and the blood in her veins turned to ice.
God, no, she pleaded silently, resisting the urge to run up those stairs. There had been serious trouble here, Kim knew. But what? An intruder? Kim knew Shego's prowess as a fighter as well as – or better than – anyone else. Besides herself, Kim knew that the list of people who could match her wife in combat was very short.
But if Shego had won, why hadn't she called to tell her what had happened? Or at least met her at the door? Kim listened intently, not breathing, for some sound from upstairs – some clue as to what had happened.
What was happening.
It would do no good, she knew, to rush headlong into whomever or whatever was waiting for her up there. Taking a moment to press the panic button on her Kimmunicator, Kim made her way up the stairs, padding along silently as a cat. She had a few minutes to asses the sitch herself before about a hundred GJ agents appeared in response to the distress signal.
Her mind played a quick slide show of villains. She had made an impressive list of enemies, but she had no clue as to who would dare attack her family. Besides, how could anyone have found out where we live anyway? There couldn't be a leak at GJ, could there? Kim suppressed a shudder at the thought as she reached the top of the stairs.
Peering around the corner and into the hallway, Kim saw that the scorch mark on the wall was by far the least of the damage. All along the upstairs hallway, there were gaping holes in the walls, and in some place the walls were blasted completely away. Pieces of the ceiling had come down, exposing the roof trusses. Something major had gone on here, Kim knew, and she only hoped that Shego had been able to get the girls out.
Why didn't anybody call me? Kim asked herself again. She was trying desperately not to answer that thought. Shego had her own Kimmunicator, and could have summoned her or Global Justice with the push of a button. That is, unless something was preventing her from doing so. Inching her way slowly down the hallway, Kim eased the first door open, glancing inside. This was the room her two daughters shared, and it was in shambles. Furniture was smashed, and clothes and toys were strewn all over the floor.
The other rooms she passed looked much the same as Kim made her way to the end of the hall and the bedroom she shared with her wife. As she got closer, she began to hear a strange – and, to her ears, terrible – sound, like the moaning of some wounded animal. Kim's face felt numb with dread as she reached the door, which had been ripped from its hinges and was hanging in its frame. As if to compensate for the numbness in her face, every other nerve ending in her body seemed hyper-alert. Her muscles tense, breath coming rapid and shallow, Kim stepped through the ruined doorway and into her bedroom. Gliding along the carpet in a low crouch, Kim felt ready for anything.
As she entered her bedroom, the odd sound grew louder. This room was trashed like all the others, the furniture in total disarray. Near the middle of the room lay the remains of her and Shego's bed. The headboard was smashed, and the box and mattress were turned up on edge, resting on one another atop the splintered wood. Kim located the source of the unnerving sound when she rounded the corner of the overturned bed.
There, huddled in the farthest corner of the room, sat her wife. Shego was disheveled, her long hair uncharacteristically mussed, her clothes dirty and torn. In spite of her appearance, though, Shego was alive; Kim's wife was okay. And there, clutched protectively under each of Shego's powerful arms was a young girl. One wore Kim's own fiery red hair, the other Shego's green-tinted black.
Kim felt a wave of relief wash over her when she saw her daughters were there.
"Oh, thank God you're OK!" Kim breathed. All the dread fell away from her then, and Kim rushed forward. The only thought on her mind now was to hold her girls – all three of them – tight against her.
"Who…" she started to ask as she got close to them, but Kim's voice trailed away when Shego looked up at her. Tears were streaming down the pale woman's face. Kim had never seen Shego cry – openly, at least – the whole time they'd been together.
"What's wrong?" Kim asked suddenly, urgently, dropping to her knees in front of her small family. If one of my girls is hurt, Kim thought as she reached out for Kasy.
"It's okay, baby," she was saying to the girl as she reached out to comfort her. Kim tugged at Kasy's stiff arm. The young girl's skin was cold to the touch. "What-"
Shego was still staring at Kim's face. Tears continued to pour unchecked from the pale woman's green eyes.
"I- I'm sorry," she started before choking on a sob that wracked her entire body. "I couldn't stop..." Her voice sounded small, helpless.
"Who?" Kim asked plaintively, pulling both her girls toward her. Shego resisted at first but reluctantly let go, wrapping her arms around herself and rocking back and forth piteously.
"You couldn't stop who?" Kim's own voice cracked as she slowly began to realize what she was seeing.
Her brain rebelled against her senses, refusing to accept what she saw. Kasy and Sheki, her girls – her whole world, stared up at their mommy blankly, their little faces rigid, impassive. They were so cold, and neither girl drew a breath as Kim held them. Shego watched her, a look of horror, of indescribable pain etched on her beautiful, pale face.
"I tried to tell you," Shego said absently, her eyes fixed, unblinking, on Kim's face. "Before, I tried..." she began, then paused, seemingly unable to speak aloud what she was going to say.
Kim looked up again, her own tears streaming down her cheeks, dropping unnoticed onto the faces of the two little angels she held in her arms. Kim's eyes locked on Shego's, and at that moment Kim knew.
Shego spoke again, unnecessarily.
"I'm evil," she said simply.
My inspiration for this little story was twofold.
First, the old fable, "The Scorpion and the Frog," is easily my absolute favorite. I do not know – and have been unable to find – the person to whom I should attribute the story, and there are as many variations as there are people who tell it.
Secondly, I was struck one day by Shego's insistence that she is "Evil, evil, EVIL!" And so, with so many fanfics out there, especially the ones by nodrogs, with Shego playing the reticent but loving (sometimes doting) mother, I thought to myself, how long can she keep that up?
Above, or so it would seem, you have my answer to that question. Eventually her evil nature caught up to her. And below is a retelling of my favorite fable.
"The Scorpion and the Frog"
Up in the mountains, not so very long ago, there lived a scorpion. He grew up in a beautiful forest, where his ancestors had lived for generations before him. One day, however, the scorpion grew tired of his old home and went in search of someplace new.
The scorpion set off through the forest, and he traveled a great distance on his eight legs. Eventually, though, his path was blocked by a deep and swift-moving stream. Seeing no way across, no matter how far up or down the stream he walked, he came back and stood for a long while pondering his situation.
As he stood there, along came a frog and the scorpion found the answer to his dilemma. The frog, seeing the scorpion waiting by the bank, approached cautiously.
"Hello there, Mr. Frog!" called the scorpion in greeting. When the frog did not respond, the scorpion pressed on.
"Might you be about to cross the stream?" he asked the frog politely.
Still wary of the scorpion, the frog answered, "Well, Mr. Scorpion, I will be, as soon as that stork, who is waiting on the other side to eat me, leaves. Why do you ask?"
"Well, as it happens, I too need to get across this stream. But as you can see," the scorpion explained, "I am a scorpion and therefore I cannot swim. Would you be so kind as to carry me across on your back?"
The frog looked sidelong at the scorpion for a moment then asked, "And why should I do that?"
"Well," the scorpion answered easily. "I cannot cross by myself – that much is clear. And you cannot cross as long as that stork," he reasoned, pointing across the stream at the bird, "stands waiting to snap you up as you climb out of the water."
The frog could not argue that, as long the stork stood on the opposite bank, he was as stuck as the scorpion.
"If you carry me across," the scorpion went on, "when we get to the other side, I will scare the bird away and you can climb safely to the bank and be on your way."
The frog thought for a moment. "How do I know you won't try to sting me when I get close to you?" he asked.
"Why would I do such a thing? If I sting you now, I will have no way across the stream. And if I stung you out on the water, I would certainly drown," the scorpion relied.
"And once we get to the other side?" the frog prompted, still not convinced.
"Well, once you carried me across the stream, I would be so grateful to you, why would I then reward your kindness with death?" the scorpion argued.
The frog, being a good-natured fellow, found that argument to be perfectly reasonable, and so he agreed to carry the scorpion across the stream. Slipping easily into the water, he waited as his passenger climbed onto his back.
"Hold on tightly," the frog warned. "The current is swift."
And with that, the frog struck off, kicking his powerful legs and swimming easily across the river. About halfway across, the frog suddenly felt a sharp pain in his back. The frog turned his head in time to see the scorpion pull his stinger out of the amphibian's back. The frog's limbs quickly began to go numb as the poison spread through his body.
"Why did you do that?" the frog, dying, managed to croak. "Now we will both drown!"
"I could not help myself," the scorpion said with a shrug. "I am a scorpion… it is in my nature."