Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

Check my profile for an overview of the Best Enemies universe. This story falls some ten years after first story. DNAmy repeated the technology she used to make Kasy and Sheki Possible possible. Shego carried this daughter. The claim of a baby born to two mothers is about to make world headlines but Kim and Shego don't want the publicity. Fortunately they have friends.

Stupid potion appeared in chapter 11 of Twenty-four Hours

NoDrogs created the twins in his story A Small Possibility. Their origin has been altered in my stories.

With Fiends Like These, Who Has Enemies

Anne Possible finished morning rounds early; her patients all appeared to be in good shape with the exception of one man for whom the simple fact of life appeared a near miracle. It would take another forty-eight hours before she could feel confident the corticosteroids had prevented brain swelling and the patient had a chance of resuming a normal life. The rest of the morning was spent with interns and residents. She wondered if she had ever been as green and ignorant as the current crop and reflected that, rather than the heads of medical students growing thicker, her own patience had likely grown thinner.

With luck she could answer her phone calls and emails before lunch and devote the afternoon to a grant proposal.

The top message on the pile brought her plans to a sick halt. "Please call Dr. Schultz."

"Karen? Anne. I had a message to call you."

The obgyn looked at the clock, "Can we have lunch? I have news I need to tell you."

"Is Jane okay? Sharon?"

"I'd rather not talk about it over the phone."

"Is it bad? Can you tell me that?"

"Take a deep breath. You don't need to panic. Mother and daughter are doing fine, but… Can we have lunch?"


"Great, see you in the cafeteria in twenty minutes?"

"How about now?"

Under normal circumstances Anne would look at her tray and make a remark about why the Thai buffet a block from the hospital did such great business, or offer some sympathy to the patients who had no choice. Instead she looked anxiously at the woman across the table from her, "Please, what's going on? When I get a call and you won't say anything over the phone it scares me. Are Jane and Sharon really all right?"

"They're both fine. Jane will be as healthy as her sisters. And Sharon? God, I think I'd kill to have her metabolism. After the harness came off the pounds just started to melt away. I swear, I'd live on chocolate if I could do that."

Anne allowed herself a grin, "Tell me about it. It took me years to get back in shape after Jim and Tim were born. So, what's up?"

"You know the Danish medical journal will report on a baby born to two women next issue."

"I was told they wouldn't mention any names."

"They don't. I've seen an advance copy of the article. But the advance copy is already circulating, and people are making guesses. I had a call from the AP today, wanted to know if I had handled the pregnancy. I don't think they were calling every obgyn in the country."

It was better than Shego or her granddaughter being ill, Anne reflected, but not by much. "What did you tell them?"

"I told them no reputable doctor would discuss her patients and hung up. But it looks like someone knows."

Anne nodded glumly.

"You need to warn them," Dr. Schultz told her. "Maybe it would be better if they announced it themselves instead of letting the paparazzi expose them."

Anne caught herself drumming her fingers on the tabletop. The media would be after her too. And the O'Ceallaighs would be swept up as well, probably bringing out the Team Go identities. She'd heard stories of what happened with the Dionne quintuplets and didn't want it to happen to her new granddaughter. "I'm not sure what I'll do," she told Karen Schultz. "I'm going to call James and talk with him. I'd rather the news not get out at all. I can trust you to keep quiet?"

"Of course."


"Get Kim, Shego and the girls out of town," Zita advised Anne.

"Out of town?" Anne asked. She had called out to Lipsky and Load to talk with Jim or Tim, but had been routed to Zita.

"Suggest they go to Chicago to see Shego's parents."

"But, I-"

"It will give us a little breathing room. It also means they're out of the loop and can't be blamed for anything that might happen."

"Anything that might happen? I-"

"You don't need to know either."


"Do you want me to call you and tell you any plans after we have a little meeting out here?"

Anne Possible hesitated, "Perhaps not. Thanks."

After hanging up the phone Zita got on the intercom to all the labs, "Drew, Wade, Joss, Jim, Tim - Emergency meeting in the old kitchen in ten minutes."

"I've really sworn off pushing the legal limits," Wade reminded them.

"Even for family?" Jim protested.

"Especially for family," Joss said emphatically, giving Wade's hand a squeeze. She looked at Wade, "But there would be nothing illegal about trying to find out who might be coming, would there? We need to know what we're up against."

Wade nodded and she kissed him on the cheek. "Can you check now? "

After Wade left the room Zita pulled out a pad, "I've started a list. We need several approaches for the problem-"

"Why?" Tim demanded.

"Because too many similar 'accidents' will look suspicious. I've already arranged one with Felix down in IT. It's-"

"He's no Wade," Jim muttered.

"It doesn't require Wade," Zita replied coldly. "But it requires creativity. I've made a couple phone calls and have a lot more to make, but first you geniuses need to brainstorm."

Twenty minutes later conversation had started to flag when Wade returned with a printout and copies. "The story looks big," Wade said glumly as he handed out copies. "Evidence for teams of two from a wire service, a newspaper, and magazine, got a network news team, and two stringers, one for another newspaper, one for the tabloids. I can't tell if there are any freelancers on their way. But I had a some good luck with number three on the list-"

"You certainly did," Zita agreed, looking at his notes.

"But, some bad luck too. The wire service team arrived this morning, probably has the house staked out by now."

Joss sighed, "That's going to complicate getting Kim and Shego out."

"We'll figure out a way," Zita assured her.

Wade continued, "And number five on the list, the woman coming in from the Post, is scheduled to arrive in Middleton around nine tonight."

"I've got phone calls to make," Zita said, closing the meeting, "let's get this done."

"Maybe we should just call a press conference and tell people," Kim suggested as she and Shego packed small suitcases for themselves. "Maybe we could make it sound dull enough no one'll care."

"I say we see what our friends can do first," Shego answered, zipping her bag shut.

"So long as everyone's careful," Kim agreed reluctantly, closing her own bag. "Okay, which of us helps Kasy and Sheki repack their bags and which of us puts the big bag together for Jane?"

"Why are we doing this again," the tall man asked his partner, who was staring through his telephoto lens.

"Kid with no father, two mothers-"

The tall man snorted with laughter, "Yeah, right."

"Danish medical journal says its legit."

"So, why aren't we in Denmark?"

"'Cause the tip said here. Maybe that redhead and the woman in the Porsche I got pictures of."

"And the two kids we saw?"

"Too old. Iiieeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" he yelled in fright as the car flipped on its roof.

Tim helped Drakken lead the Doombot back to the truck parked around the corner. "The court said you were supposed to turn these in," he reminded Drakken.

"The court order only covered those I tried to take over the world with. This was a beta model and in storage. You get your job done?"

"Yeah, they were too stunned to notice the contribution from Jim and me."

Ten minutes later, when the police car pulled up the two men were standing beside their car, wondering what had happened.

"We just flipped over," one babbled as Officer Hobble knelt and peered into the interior - noticing the six empty beer cans Tim had tossed in.

Hobble straightened up, "Looks like we've got a DWI here, I'm taking you downtown."

"No!" the two protested.

As Shego drove to the airport Kim noticed Hobble making his arrest a block away. "I wonder what that's about?"

"Oh, look, a car is flipped over," Sheki exclaimed.

"Let me see," Kasy demanded, struggling to get out of her seatbelt.

"Seatbelt stays on young lady," Shego warned as they rounded a corner and could no longer see the accident.

When the taxi pulled up in front of the hotel Pam Karstens handed the driver her business credit card. He swiped the card, and swiped it again. "It's been rejected, Lady."

"Hell," she muttered. She found cash and went in to register.

The desk clerk confirmed the card under which she had reserved a room had been rejected. The rejection notes on her personal cards said she was over her limit, which she knew could not be true. The night editor gave her no sympathy, telling her if she'd messed up on a company credit card she was in deep shit.

On her third call she found a friend willing to give his credit card information to the clerk, but before handing the phone over Pam decided, "Forget it, I'm using the return ticket to get home."

"What about the assignment?"

"Screw the assignment. If I've had my identity ripped off I want to see what else it happening before my condo gets sold or my car repossessed."

"How long will it take for her to get the credit card mess straightened out?" Zita asked Felix.

"Well the customer service centers in India don't really provide customer service. My guess is a week or two before they find they cancelled everything for the wrong Pamela Karstens."

"Good job. Time for you to go home."

"You're staying? And will holding her up for a week or two be enough?"

"Yeah, I'm here 'til everything's okay. I owe them. If things work out a week should be plenty."

The DA himself went into the jail to meet two angry prisoners the next day.

"We weren't drunk!" one insisted.

"The blood test will prove that," the other seconded.

"That's true," Steve Crandall agreed with them, "but you're being charged with disorderly conduct and resisting arrest based on your treatment of the officer on the scene."

"But we weren't drunk! If he hadn't arrested us we wouldn't have resisted!"

"But you did."

Half an hour later a defense lawyer showed up to talk with them. "Bad news, you drew Judge Alice Armstrong. She doesn't like people who resist the police. But I've cut a deal with the DA. Plead guilty on the misdemeanor disorderly conduct and agree to be out of town by noon and you can walk now."

"If we don't?"

"Could be ninety days."

The two looked at each other, then turned to the woman, "Guilty, get us out of here."

As the reporter and photographer for a German magazine checked into the Middleton hotel three figures surrounded them, Will Du showed his badge, "Luigi Berlusconi, you are wanted in Italy for money laundering and France for passing bad checks. You are under arrest. Agent Jackson, please handcuff him."

As the slim black woman handcuffed his partner, Konrad protested, "Why is Global Justice wasting time on nothing crimes like that?"

"We happened to be in the neighborhood," Will explained, "Agent Jacobi, please question this apparent accessory."

"Excuse me, Gentlemen," the woman said to the two men as they left their motel, "could you give me a quick opinion on a new brand of grape soda?"

"I don't really like-"

"Ah, come on," his buddy said, punching him in the arm, "what can it hurt?"

She carefully filled two small glasses from a bottle in a paper bag, and two other small glasses with a can whose label was taped over, "These are the two leading brands on the market. Do you have a preference for either?"

"Taste the same to me."

"I think I like the one from the can better."

"Thank you," she said pulling out another mystery bottle, "Now, this is the new formula. Please give me your opinions."

The two men had about forty seconds of rationality before their eyes glazed over. Three identical men appeared. One Wego helped each of the men back to their respective motel rooms, where they were left harmlessly in front of Cartoon Network.

"You were wonderful," Ed told Connie as he helped her pack up. "How big a dose did you give them?"

"The stupid potion will wear off in two or three days. Zita said that was enough… Who is this Zita woman - another old flame?"

Ed laughed, "You met her once. Will tried to date her, thought a divorced woman needed sex."


"There was no second date."

Connie shook her head, "Your brother is hopeless. Let's get home and pick up the kids."

"Don't worry about them. I bet they're having a blast with Kasy and Sheki."

The red-haired girl and husky, mixed-race boy appeared slightly out of place in the hotel lobby as she consulted an odd-looking time piece. They appeared to be about fifteen. Her t-shirt advertised a band no one had heard of and his pants were of a material which almost seemed to change color under different lights.

"We are so dead if Dr. Renton catches us," he warned her.

"Dr. Renton won't know. Besides, if your dad had done a better job we wouldn't need to be here."

"There was nothing wrong with dad's work," he bristled defensively. "There was no way to verify if any freelancers were coming to Middleton."

She took on a superior tone, "He should have checked the… Wait, he hadn't invented that yet, had he?"

He smiled at her, "You are so lucky to have me covering your ass. You couldn't find Tuesday without me."

She had almost thought of a witty response, but was spared when the elevator door opened and a man emerged, "There he is, what do we do? Follow him?"

"Don't get too anxious," the boy answered as their quarry went into a restaurant off the lobby. They watched the hostess lead him to a table. "He'll probably go back to his room after lunch."

She watched nervously as he studied history in the morning paper. She nudged her partner, "He's leaving!"

The youth quickly looked around the lobby, "No one's looking. Give him seventy-two hours."

"Plus or minus?"

"Plus of course! Fleam, Francis doesn't love you for your brains."

"Zip! I know, but is plus the pound key or the star?"

"Star! Fast."

The temporal displacement beam hit him as the elevator doors began to close. In three days he would step off the elevator on the sixth floor.

The two bumped fists and grinned at each other. "Another perfect mission," she boasted.

"That's what you always say," he reminded her.

"Well, it is."

"Chicago, nineteen-twenty-three-"

"That worked!"

"Seattle, fifty-seven. Dallas, sixty-nine. New York-"

"We agreed to never mention that one again." She hesitated, "Okay, point taken. What coin you got? We're in the trans-fat era!"

"Got an oh-three fold. Trans-fat is bad for you."

"You're as bad as your dad."


She glared, "Come on, they have a Bueno Naco here someplace. Maybe we can find your old house and I can offer to change your diaper. I'm tired of you always saying you're covering my ass."

"I've got a bad feeling about this."

"You always have a bad feeling. It's all that healthy eating. Come on. Nothing will go wrong."

"I'm not a super hero," Mego complained as he tested the long plastic hose for enough slack that he could pull it easily in his smaller form, "I'm a business man. A business man whose organic health care business suffers if I'm not there to nurture it along."

"Nonsense, once a hero, always a hero," Hego insisted slapping his brother on the back. "And a hero must always protect his identity."

Mego sighed. His Mego identity might garner positive publicity for the Dexter line. On the other hand, Team Go did have enemies who might hurt the bottom line if his identity leaked out.

In the dusk no one would notice the man only a foot tall dragging a length of plastic hose. He hoped no one was out walking a dog. When he got to the car he reduced even further, and took the magnets off the end of the hose and put them on his legs and arms to help in climbing. After getting the hose in the car he climbed down and ran to the back of the car. He increased to one foot in size, bent a light stick to start it and waved it around to signal Hego to turn on the sleeping gas. With the car windows open it would take awhile for the gas to work.

After twenty minutes Mego put on a gas mask and climbed back up the side of the car. The man appeared to be dozing. Mego held the hose under his face for about five minutes to make certain the stringer for the tabloid was out. Then he signaled Hego with the light stick to cut the gas. Returning to full size he pulled out his cell phone. "Target neutralized," Mego hated the espionage talk, "you sure that lot is big enough for you to land?"

"I'm good," the voice on the other end assured him.

Hego picked up the car and carried it to a baseball diamond a block away as Mego gathered the gas cylinder, hose, and anything else he could find.

As Hego reached the playing field Jim set the transport helicopter down.

"Do you need me to go with you?" Hego asked.

"Nah, once I get to Roswell I'll drive the car out and park it, then fly home. His paper's headlines should be 'Reporter Abducted by Aliens'."

"Let's head for the Go jet and home," Mego told him when Hego returned to his brother.

"That's not the way we say it," Hego boomed happily, "It's, Let's Go!"

"Yeah, whatever," Mego muttered.

The phone rang on Zita's desk. The Hispanic woman had been napping there. "Hello?" she murmured, half asleep.


"Yes… Who is this?"

"Sylvie, down at police headquarters."

"What you got?"

"I'm on the nine-one-one desk. Just had a call. Woman claimed a big blue man was carrying a car."


"I calmed her down, sent an officer over a couple minutes ago. They'd better be gone."

Zita crossed her fingers, "I'm sure they are."

After hanging up Zita leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. She'd done all she could. It was out of her hands now. She should go back to her condo and go to bed. She fell asleep in that position in her office.

The sun shone brightly as the news truck turned into the drive at Possible Manor.

"Park here," the director told the driver. "You ready to roll?" he barked.

"Absolutely," the anchor assured him, flashing the dazzling white smile for which he was known.

"Always," the cameraman yawned, nudging the gaffer with his toe to get him moving.

The anchor began his spiel with the house as a backdrop, "The medical journal for the Danish National University stunned the world with the announcement of a baby conceived by two women. Today we are in Middleton, following up a tip that the miracle child lives here."

The camera recorded him him turning and walking towards the house.

Cameraman and gaffer positioned themselves on the porch and started filming as he rang the doorbell.

The pregnant woman who opened the door looked oddly familiar.

"Good morning, I'm Edward Cronkite and-"

"Of course I know who you are," the woman laughed and showed her own beautiful smile.

"It's Bonnie Rockwaller," the gaffer whispered. "Television and movies."

Bonnie turned to the gaffer and gave a stage whisper, "Don't forget the voice work. It's all I'll be doing for the next few months."

Edward looked confused, "I don't understand," he stammered. "We were told something about a baby with two mothers."

"Well, this one has a father," Bonnie assured him, patting her stomach. "We did things the old-fashioned way. Ask my husband - he was there."

"But… But…"

Bonnie laughed again, "I'll bet it was my old friend Adrena Lynn. She said she'd get me some publicity for the movie I'm directing now."

"Movie? Publicity?"

"Oh yes, my first movie. I directed some episodes of Tomorrow is Another Day and I loved it!"

She insisted they come inside and tape an interview. It was an hour before the truck backed out of the drive.

"What do you want me to do with the tape?" the cameraman asked.

"Burn it," Edward suggested.

"Give it to me," the director swore. "I'll tell Adrena Lynn where she can stick it. I can't believe the has-been had us wasting time like this. When I get the word out on her no one will take her calls."

Joss found Zita asleep in her office and gently woke her up. "Go home," the younger woman suggested.

"Everything okay?" Zita demanded.

"Everything's fine, except that you look and smell like you haven't left this room in two days. Jim's back from New Mexico, I'll have him to drive you home, wink, wink."

Zita yawned, "I need a shower. And he's too young for me."

"He'll wash your back. When will you accept we all know you're living together?"


Two days after Bonnie's most convincing role a young man stepped out of an elevator and found his room card would not open the door to this room.

When he complained to the desk he was told he had not been seen in three days. The police would not believe him. His paper fired him. He considered psychiatric evaluation, but decided he was sane and fulfilled his parents' dream by returning to school. He studied temporal physics. He took graduate courses in criminology and, as he finished his PhD dissertation, realized his knowledge of how law enforcement pursues criminals would enable him to avoid arrest.

Over the next few years Dr. Crime rose to the number nine position of most wanted criminals in the world and became the fourth biggest threat in the history of the Time Cops.

-The End-