The characters in this story are the property of Disney. I make no monetary gain from their use (so don't sue me).

Cheater!

(A Kim Possible fanfiction)

It was a beautiful spring day in the suburbs of Go City, and the little girl in the pale green dress was determined to make the most of it. The sun was warm against her pale face, shining brightly off her raven-black hair. The brightness of it reflected the little girl's mood.

The streets were empty in the little neighborhood, as everyone with a car and sense had either driven early to the park, or were in some other way enjoying the gorgeous Saturday. In all, it was shaping up to be a perfect day for the little girl to show off her brand new bicycle. She stood astride it now, looking down to where another little girl knelt, busily drawing squares on the sidewalk with chalk. The sun caught the kneeling girl's brilliant red hair and shone brightly through it, making it seem as though her head were crowned with fire.

"So, do you like my new bike?" the dark-haired girl asked, beaming.

The kneeling girl, in her pink shirt and blue jeans, barely seemed to notice. The dry sound of chalk scraping across the concrete was the only sound for a long moment.

"I bet you mine is faster," she said at length, not even looking up from her drawing.

"Nuh-uh," the other girl answered firmly, stamping her tiny foot on the pavement. She shook her head emphatically, sending her long, black hair whipping back and forth. "Mommy gave me that bike, an' she said it's the fastest one," she declared, blowing her dark hair from in front of her eyes.

Straightening up to her full height of nearly four feet, she crossed her arms proudly, as if daring the other girl to refute what was clearly an indisputable fact. The redhead stood from drawing her hopscotch squares, looking up to meet the taller girl's gaze.

"Prove it then," she said bravely, her green eyes in sharp contrast to her auburn hair.

"You're on!" came the answer immediately.

The front tires of two bicycles – one bicycle a gleaming emerald green, the other sparkling pink in the bright sunlight – inched forward to the crooked chalk line that had been scrawled across the road. Beneath the line was written a single word: "FINISH."

"Okay," the red-haired girl was saying. "One time, around the block, back here. No shortcuts," she added, eyeing the other girl suspiciously.

"And no cheating," the raven-haired girl agreed, nodding once.

Without any further warning, the redhead called out, "Ready-set-GO!" and immediately began pumping the pedals on her little pink bicycle. Pink and white streamers – reminiscent of pom-poms – trailed from the little girl's handlebars.

"Hey!" the other girl shouted in protest before setting her own cycle in motion. She was off like a shot, but had lost valuable distance to the other girl's unfair start.

"That's not fair!" she shouted out, indignant. "Kimmie! I wasn't ready!"

If Kimmie heard her, though, she certainly didn't act like it. Saving her breath then for pedaling, little Sheila was determined to catch up to her. Cheating or no, she would not suffer that girl to beat her. She chased after Kimmie and her pink bike, pedaling for all she was worth.

She was working her legs furiously, but as hard as she tried, Sheila couldn't seem to cut into Kimmie's lead. Frowning, she stood off the seat then, forcing her little legs to move just as fast as she could make them go. She would not lose! Panting, she slowly closed the gap, and as they neared the first turn, she could tell that she was going to catch the little cheater.

In spite of the desperate circumstances, little Sheila Go couldn't help but think how wonderful it felt to go so fast. She loved feeling the wind on her face. She felt so free, like she could ride her brand new bike pretty much wherever she wanted to go.

Brand-new! A little voice inside her head repeated. Her snarl became a fierce and determined grin.

Born the middle child in a house full of boys, it wasn't very often that Sheila had gotten anything at all – much less anything that wasn't a hand-me-down from one of her two older brothers. Most of the new stuff went either to Hugo or Melvin, and most of their parents' attention went to her twin baby brothers.

But this bike was not a hand-me-down. Her mother had given it to her just this morning, had brought it home straight from the store!

That thought kept her going. When her chest began to hurt from the exertion, she thought of how many times she'd wanted something she couldn't have. When her legs burned as though they were on fire, she remembered giving up music lessons so Hugo could play football. When she couldn't seem to get enough air to fill her aching lungs, little Sheila Go remembered all the little disappointments she'd been dealt in her short life.

The thought that she was riding her bicycle kept her going. The only person who could disappoint her now was herself, and there was no way she'd let that happen. She would not stop until she had won.

Her green eyes focused straight ahead of her, Sheila watched as Kim hit the first curve. The little redhead slowed a bit as she went around, and Sheila seized on that opportunity. Leaning into the turn, she flew through it, her black hair flying behind her as if it were having trouble keeping up. Straightening again, little Sheila – her face red with exertion – gradually pulled even with Kimmie.

The redhead glanced over at her in surprise, and then leaned forward, kicking her own legs with renewed vigor. She managed to hold onto her slight lead through the next curve. Sheila had to swing wide to avoid a collision, but it was evident to both girls as they slid neck-and-neck out of the third turn that Sheila had her beat.

The fourth and final turn rushed toward them. They leaned into it together, Kimmie taking the inside track, Sheila hugging close to her, again on the outside. In spite of Kimmie's advantage in position, Sheila's front tire inched out in front of hers. The dark-haired girl was going to win.

Kimmie looked over at Sheila as they came to the apex of the curve. Their eyes locked for a moment, then Sheila's went wide as Kimmie straightened out of the turn early. They were so close together that poor Sheila had no time to react before the pink bike slammed into hers. The impact helped steer Kimmie through the curve, but sent Sheila and her shiny new green bike careening off toward the far side of the road. The abrupt curb stood waiting.

"E-E-E-Y-a-a-a-a-a-a!" Sheila yelled out in shock as her front tire hit the curb.

The little bike stopped instantly on impact, but Sheila kept right on going. Her handlebars jerked sideways, and over them the little girl flew to the ground. She came down hard on the sidewalk, dragging her right knee painfully across the concrete.

"O-o-o-o-o-ow!" she moaned, rolling over to clutch her bleeding knee. She looked through her tear-filled eyes to see Kimmie crossing the finish line, hands raised above her head in triumph.

After a while, Sheila picked herself up, oblivious to the dust on her little green dress. It was torn in a couple places, and her arms and legs were bruised, but none of that mattered just then. Her bike was lying right where it had struck the curb, the scratches in the paint obvious even from a distance.

Sheila walked over to her bike, punctuating every other step with "Ow!" as she went. She reached down and lifted it back onto its wheels. When it didn't roll, Sheila looked at the front wheel, which was bent dramatically. Her heart sank at the sight of it, her new bike, effectively destroyed.

"What have you done now?" a familiar voice asked behind her.

Sheila turned suddenly to face her mother, who stood frowning angrily down at her. On each hip rested a baby, and the tall woman was also flanked on each side by one of Sheila's older brothers.

"What's going on?" Melvin, the skinny one, asked.

"Sheila's in trouble again," Hugo answered, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"But…" Sheila began, trying to explain about the race, and how Kimmie had cheated, twice. Her mother cut off her tearful explanation.

"What, are you going to just stand there and cry about it now?" she demanded.

Sheila was indeed crying then, great tears rolling down her burning cheeks. She reached up with one hand to wipe them away, leaning on her crippled bike with the other, trying to take the weight off her sore knee.

As she stood there, facing her mother's angry glare, little Kimmie rode by, laughing. She pointed at Sheila and her dirty dress, holding her busted bicycle, her skinned knee dribbling blood down her leg. Sheila stared after her, determined to wipe that superior smirk off her smug little face.

"Sheila Go," the redhead called out to her in a sing-song voice. "Sheila Go! She go, but she can't stop!"

Amused at her own cleverness, Kimmie started laughing again.

"Heh-heh!" Hugo grinned. "She go but she can't stop!" As if that were the funniest thing any of them had ever heard, they all chimed in, laughing. Laughing at her. Sheila noticed that more of the neighbors had gathered to see what the commotion was all about. She even recognized some people from school.

"She go, but she can't stop!" they all began chanting together. "She go! She go! Shego!"

Sheila slowly realized that she was no longer holding her bicycle. Looking down at her glowing hands, she saw that she was instead clutching a blanket. She could hear the fabric ripping as she twisted and pulled at it, could smell the smoke as it smoldered in her grip.

Glowing hands?!

The chanting slowly subsided, the lone voice she still heard sounding more querulous.

"Shego?" the voice asked. "Shego!"

The neighborhood melted away from her then, replaced by the familiar trappings of her own bedroom. Shego winced at the bright morning sun beaming in through the huge picture window across the room from the bed. Someone was shaking her shoulder. Squinting, she looked again at her hands, wrapped tightly around her fluffy down comforter. Smoke trickled out from around her fingers.

"Oh, shit!" she said abruptly, extinguishing her blazing hands and slapping animatedly at the singed bedcover.

"What's the sitch?" Kim asked her. The redhead looked worried. "Bad dream?"

Propped up on one elbow, Kim looked questioningly through her red hair. The sun shone brightly off Kim's fiery mane, so reminiscent of the little Kimmie from her dream.

"Nothing," Shego lied quickly. "Go back to sleep."

Kim stared at her for a moment, seemingly about to argue. Then, with a muffled remark about how weird the dark-haired woman was, Kim plopped back down, hugging her pillow. Shego glared at her for a few moments then lay back down herself. Closing her eyes, she watched as the details of her odd dream came back to her again in snippets.

"She go, but she can't stop!"

Shego turned her head and looked again at her wife, lying next to her. She was already fast asleep. Shego snatched the pillow out from under Kim's head and hit her with it. Hard.

Incredulous, Kim shot up, her wide eyes demanding an explanation for the sudden assault.

"Cheater," Shego accused before tossing the pillow back at her.

Kim continued to stare, bewildered, at her. Ignoring her, Shego rolled over and closed her eyes. A small, determined smile spread over her face as she drifted off, seeking a certain little redheaded girl and her little pink bicycle.

Oh, Kimmie… she called out silently.

It was time for a little rematch.