If I owned KP, Monkey Fist wouldn't have been turned into a stone statue after being defeated by an infant. As you can easily guess, I don't own KP.

Author's notes: this is probably the first Killigan/DNAmy fanfic ever, though not the first piece of fanwork about this pairing – that title belongs to a lovely fanart from VampireNaomi. Thank (or blame XD) her if you're reading this now, for I would have never had the guts to post it here without her encouragement. As you can easily guess from the title and the summary, the pairing is most unusual and will most likely cause a lot of people to go 'ewwww', but whatever: it was funny writing it.

One more thing: in a way this one-shot is a spin off from another fanfiction of mine, but you don't need to read it to read this one. All you need to know is that DNAmy used to stay outside Monkey Fist's castle, waiting for him to get out (I bet everyone can guess her intentions XD) and generally being a pain, and Monkey Fist asked Drakken to use the Weather Generator to create a storm upon his castle to make her go away. It is somewhat stated in the fic, but it's just to be sure nobody gets confused.

So, yeah…read at your own risk XD

Duff Killigan was definitely not a morning person.

To be more specific he had never been, he was not and he was never going to become a morning person. Somewhere in the castle there was a room full of broken alarm clocks to prove it: until a few years back he had the habit of keeping a golf club near the bed just to smash the alarm clock as soon as it began to ring. A lot of people – well, the few people that had the guts to question him – had told him it would have been more reasonable to just stop buying alarm clocks instead of smashing them and getting new ones each week. What they didn't seem to understand was that he liked smashing alarm clocks: it was a good way to begin the morning…before falling asleep again and finally getting up at noon, of course, ready to play golf until nightfall.

There was a reason why he loved living in his own personal island so much – his island, his rules: nobody to tell him what to do and when, and he was perfectly comfortable that way.

Until a few years back, of course: he was no longer the only one in that island, and no longer the only one to decide. He had done something he would have never thought he could ever do – something rather stupid, indeed, but the damage had been done and he didn't feel like complaining that much…as long as Amy respected the compromises they had reached, of course.

Compromises were something he had much trouble to accept at the beginning – there had never been any kind of compromise in his life for many years, his own rules being the only ones he was willing to follow. Therefore, each compromise they had reached had costed him a valiant effort…but it had been necessary: life with Amy Hall would have been impossible without compromises.

Fist of all: no cuddling in public. His first idea was actually 'no cuddling ever', but it had proved to be impossible to obtain, so they had settled for the 'not in public' compromise after weeks of discussions. Well…they hadn't really been 'discussions', since he just kept getting angry and she just kept cuddling him all the same like you would cuddle an undisciplined but beloved pet without even listening to his ramblings, but whatever.

Same went for those silly, sugary nicknames. He had pretty much given up trying to make her stop calling him 'honey bunny', 'pookie bear' and such by now, but she had thankfully agreed to not use them in front of anyone (and 'anyone' meant 'whatever living being bigger than a fly'). He had almost completely retired from his usual business in the last few years – most of the old group of villains had by now, and those newbies trying to replace them just had no personality in his opinion – but he still had a reputation to maintain, after all.

And, of course, he had to deal with her little hobby of creating sickening creatures playing with DNA. He had tried to convince her to just stop creating those creatures, but there had been no way to convince her, and he had eventually realized that the possibilities she would stop were just as many as the possibilities he would stop playing golf. So she had eventually obtained to use one of the subterranean rooms as a lab, but she was strictly forbidden to keep whatever she created inside the castle: her 'creations' had to stay outside, no matter what. They had a whole island to stay in, after all – as long as they didn't give any trouble and stayed away from his golf field (his explosive golf balls had been useful to teach them to stay away from there), he could deal with them.

…besides, he had to admit that the mean-tempered, giant mixture between a whale and an electric eel swimming around the island was great at keeping undesired guests away. Alice had insisted to name it 'Nessie', after the legendary monster of Loch Ness, and Killigan had to admit the name fit the giant animal.

Last but not least, the 'no redecorating' rule: his castle was perfectly fine the way it was, and he would be dead before having pink furniture or anything close. Overall, that was the agreement they had reached most easily: the castle had plenty of empty, unused rooms that she could 'redecorate' and where she could keep her stuff out of his sight. Last time he had been forced to see one of those plushie…things she loved so much it had been about six years before, the day of Alice's second birthday, when Amy had decided that for some reason the plushie of some mixture between a panda and a kangaroo would be the perfect gift for her daughter.

It had taken little Alice less than thirty seconds to decide it would be fun watching just how much time it would take for the fire in the fireplace to destroy it. And it had been a great throw for a two-years-old, he had to admit. Good little girl.

The golfer smirked at the memory as yawned and turned away from the window, a little annoyed by the light pouring in. How many times had he told Amy to not open the curtains when he was still sleeping?

Oh, well – at least she hadn't tried to wake him up because she wanted some cuddling. It hadn't taken much for her to learn that waking him up could be about as dangerous as poking a sleeping bear and that the most pleasant consequence she could get from that was having him all cranky for the rest of the day. In those occasions, she would usually try to brighten his mood by baking some cookies…and, truth to be told, he sometimes pretended to be grumpier than he really was just to get some cookies. But she didn't need to know that, did she?

No, he decided, she didn't. He was pondering if he should use that trick to get some extra cookies that day when peace was suddenly broken by a childish shrill.

"Pillow fight!"

Duff Killigan gasped for breath, his eyes snapping open as something – someone in this case – jumped on his stomach. He had barely the time to see spiky pigtails of rusty red hair and a chubby freckled face grinning down at him before a pillow was smashed on his face.


"Got ye!" he heard a familiar giggle as the pillow was smashed down in his face again.

"That's it lassie – ye're in trouble," Killigan grumbled, catching the pillow before it hit him again and effortlessly snatching it from the child's small hands. The girl shrieked with laughter and tried to jump down before he could catch her, but he was quick enough to grab her before she could run away. She squirmed, trying to break free from her father's grasp, but she was no match for him. Not yet, she would have pointed out with a scowl.

"Who got who now, lassie?" he grinned as the eight-years-old finally gave up on trying to get free.

"Ye're bigger," Alice Killigan protested "that's not fair!"

The golfer sneered as he finally let her go and leaned back on the pillow. "It's not my fault if ye're a wee small lassie."

She pouted. "I'm not wee," she protested, apparently oblivious that she was still small enough to comfortably sit on his stomach.

"Ye're not?"

Alice folded her arms with a scowl. "I'm gonna grow up anyway, and then I'll be stronger than ye," she muttered.

"Sure. The world's most dangerous tomboy," Duff Killigan said mockingly, then he yawned and rubbed his eyes "what time is it?"

"Almost midday. Ye missed breakfast, an explosion in mom's lab and the Rhinobunny eating yer golf clubs," she informed him.


"Just two of them – the wedge and the chipper, I think."

Killigan was fuming. "I told yer mother to keep that blasted thing outside!" he roared, suddenly sitting upright and causing Alice to fall on the ground.

"Hey, watch it!" she snapped, climbing on the bed again "it was yer fault – ye left them near the window, and Charlie grabbed them from outside."


"The Rhinobunny."

"Oh, right," the golfer shrugged – in his opinion, that thing wasn't worth having a name – and turned his thoughts back to his golf clubs. "I left them near the window?"

"Aye," the little girl answered, crossing her fingers behind her back "and he also ate one of yer golf balls," she added "he swallowed it whole. Mom had to open his stomach to get it back before it could explode and make a big mess. I helped," she added with a certain amount of pride.

Killigan grinned – that abomination got what it deserved, in his opinion, so maybe there would be no need to use it to mop the floor – then he frowned again. "Looks like I'll have to get another golf set," he grumbled, scratching his cheek "oh, well – I had to get some stuff one of these days anyway. Are ye up for a trip to Glasgow? I'm going this afternoon."

"Sure!" was the enthusiastic answer. Alice didn't get much outside the island, so she wasn't going to miss that occasion. Maybe they should have sent her to a boarding school instead than having her home schooled, but Amy refused to let her daughter stay away from home for so long, much to Alice's eternal annoyance. Considering how protective she was to her daughter every time the word 'school' was named, Killigan got the distinct feeling her school years hadn't be the brightest in her life.

Besides, their first and only attempt to send Alice to a boarding school the previous year hadn't been successful: much to Amy's delight, she had been sent back home in less than a week, gloating with pride. Apparently, she thought that beating up two schoolmates (two boys, as Alice always pointed out) who had unwittingly asked her if she was a boy or a girl was worth a praise.

In Duff's not-so-humble opinion it was, but the school's headmaster didn't seem to think the same way: he had said she would have to take some anger management classes in order to be accepted in the school, and that was something Duff Killigan wasn't going to put his daughter through: he knew perfectly how anger management worked (how many times had he been through it in prison?), and it seemed too darn similar to brainwashing to him.

What the hell, she was his daughter – she was bound to be temperamental like every other Killigan in centuries, he would always say with a certain amount of pride. No, she wouldn't take any of that anger management crap as long as he lived, he had decided.

Amy had been delighted to say the least by his decision. It was one more excuse to keep her daughter safe in the island and – most of all – close to her, since she was afraid that those 'big meanies' could scar her for life or something. Killigan had just snickered at the idea, ignoring the temptation to point out that it would be more likely for them to be scarred for life by Alice than the other way around.

Maybe someday she would realize by herself that her daughter wasn't precisely some sweet little angel, but he had his doubts. Amy wasn't exactly perceptive in that regard.

He grinned at the thought and stretched. "Where's yer mother?"

"She's baking a pie," the little girl said, her mouth watering at the thought "she said it would make ye be less cranky eating something sweet," she shrugged.

Her father snickered. "Aye, she has weird ideas. What pie?"

"Chocolate pie. But she called it 'our special pie'," she frowned in confusion "why? What's so special?"

"Long story," Killigan shrugged, but he gasped as Alice jumped on his stomach again "ouch! Ye could warn before doing that, lassie," he grumbled.

Alice completely ignored his protests. "What story?" she asked, sitting more comfortably on her father's stomach, and Killigan understood he had made a mistake. She was never going to leave him alone until her curiosity was satisfied.

"Well…" Killigan sighed and glanced at the door "she's still downstairs, right?" he asked. There were some parts of the story that she didn't know, and she was probably better keep not knowing them.


"Fine. It was before ye were born – almost ten years ago, I think – and we were at a villain convention..."

"Ye mean one of those meetings where people keep rambling about world domination and all that stuff?"

"Aye, one of those ones. Back then she had a thing for Monkey Boy –"

His daughter blinked. "She had a thing for Michio's dad?" she asked, bewildered. Well, that was unexpected. She wondered if Michio knew it already – she was going to tell him as soon as she heard from him again.

Killigan grinned. "Aye – I bet that's something yer friend doesn't know, his old man doesn't like to talk about it," he paused with a scowl "I don't like that laddie," he grumbled. Since Japan had been the first country to banish him from any golf camps he still held some grudge against that country, and that kid looked too much like an Asian for his tastes, no matter what nationality he had written on his passport. Sometimes he wondered if Alice had befriended the boy just in spite of him.

Alice scowled. "Dad…" she protested, folding her arms.

"Aye, no bashing yer friend," Killigan grunted "anyway, we were at this convention…"

Ten years earlier.

Duff Killigan didn't even want to go to the villain convention that year – it would require getting up a lot earlier than he was used to just to hear a few rants about world domination and stuff like that. Why should anyone try to take over the world anyway? That would require running it later, and that would have been a useless effort and a loss of time. How can you play golf when you have a whole planet to run?

Turning the planet into a giant golf field would make much more sense, in his opinion.

The only reason why he had finally decided to go was that Jack Hench was going to present a new kind of explosive that could make his explosive golf ball even more powerful. It hadn't been worth it: the explosive wasn't nearly as special as he had been told, and it wasn't worth the price.

It had been a rather boring afternoon: the usual 'take over the world' rants, occasionally animated by the usual quarrelling between Drakken and Dementor and Shego occasionally beating the crap out of Motor Ed because of some idiotic misogynist comment. Killigan was not that skilled speaking with women himself, but that guy was a true disaster.

There was another villain too, the genetist with a thing for cuddly plushies or whatever that rubbish was called – but she wasn't much of her usual bubbly, disturbingly cheerful self. She actually looked quite down in the dumps, but he just shrugged: it was not his problem anyway.

He glanced at the other villains in the room, and he realized Monkey Fist wasn't there. Too bad: though he was most likely the craziest guy of the bunch he could be a better company than most others as long as he didn't start speaking of anything simian related.

"Anyone knows where Monkey Boy is?" he asked, more to say something than because he cared "I thought he got out of jail a while back."

Drakken stopped quarrelling with Dementor just for enough time to answer. "Oh, he's not getting out of home that soon – he asked me to create a storm upon his castle a couple of weeks ago to get rid of some intruder sneaking around there, and he's stuck there until…hey, watch out with that!" he protested. DNAmy had let her glass fall on the ground as he mentioned the reason why he had created the storm, and orange juice had splattered on Drakken's clothes. "It's my only lab coat! Who would ever take seriously a villain with stained clothes? What are you thinking? You could at least…ow!"

He gasped as Dementor elbowed his stomach. "Zat up, you animal!" the professor exclaimed, gesturing to DNAmy with a brief nod of his head. The woman's lower lip was quivering as if she was about to cry as she muttered some apologize and quickly left the room.

Killigan looked at Drakken with a grin. "Nice job, Blue."

"Yeah, you just don't know how to treat ladies, seriously!" Motor Ed said, causing everyone to snicker and Shego to growl.

Senior Senior Sr. disapprovingly shook his head. "Doctor Drakken, I think your should apologize to the lady," he said, gesturing to the door with his cane "your behaviour was extremely rude, and being a villain is no excuse."

Drakken shifted uneasily. "Hey, it wasn't me! I was just complaining and…c'mon, I'm always complaining anyway! She overreacted!"

Shego shrugged. "I don't think it was Dr. D's whining to upset her. Maybe it's because the monkey freak is not coming – if I'm not mistaking, she had a thing for him. That's why she dumped you, isn't it, Dr. D?" she asked slyly, causing Drakken to grimace. Did she really have to bring that episode back?

"Och, she dumped ye for a monkey?" Killigan mocked him – he had almost forgotten how fun it was mocking Drakken "ye just have no luck, lad…"

"It doesn't surprise me – even a baboon vould be better zan a loser," Dementor said with a shrug.

"We'll see who's the loser when I take over the world!"

"I am ze one who vill take over ze vorld, you incompetent idiot!"

"And I'll take it back from you!"

The quarrelling went on for a while, but everyone lost interest soon enough – it was nothing they hadn't heard a million times already, especially Shego. "So, she has a thing for Monkey Boy?" Killigan asked with a chuckle as the woman sat next to him after sending Motor Ed to crash against the wall for the seventh time in half an hour.

"I guess she thinks monkey paws are cute," Shego said with a shrug "just gross, if you ask to me. But I've seen her drooling over creatures that were twice as sickening, so it could be worse. I'm not sure the freak appreciates her attentions though."

"Aye, he doesn't appreciate anything that hasn't fur and four hands."

"And possibly a tail. I wonder why he didn't ask her to give him a tail too."

Killigan made a face. "How do ye sit with a tail?"

Shego grinned at the though. "Good point," she yawned and gave an annoyed glance to the scene in front of them: Motor Ed was unconscious on the ground – and she hoped he would stay unconscious for a while – the Seniors were leaving already, DNAmy was most likely bawling outside and Drakken and Dementor showed no sign of being tired of their endless discussions. "You could just get back home," she said, turning to the golfer "you don't have a whiny boss to baby-sit."

Leaving? Well, that was a good idea. Why hadn't he thought about it? "Aye, I'm my own boss," Killigan said puffing off his chest and causing Shego to roll her eyes, then he got up from his seat and walked out of the room. His dirigible was in the backyard, and if he left immediately he could get home just in time to play golf for a while before it was too dark…


He was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts as the door slammed open on his face. He heavily fell on his back, holding his aching nose. "What the hell…!"

"Ohhh, I'm so sorry!" a feminine and somewhat whiny voice said somewhere above him. Killigan blinked to focalise the figure looking down at him. It was the genetist…DNAmy or something. She sniffled a little – it was clear she had been crying until a few minutes before.

He was about to yell at her what exactly she could do with her stupid excuses, but she spoke again. "Silly me, I never pay attention…I didn't hurt you, did I?" she asked, her voice still trembling a little as her fingers fidgeted around that plushie…thing she had around her neck.

Killigan grunted. "I'm Duff Killigan, lass – it takes more than that to take me down," he said, somewhat outraged as he got up and folded his arms – who did she take him for? Well, actually his nose still stung, but he wasn't going to let it show up in front of a woman, or anyone for the matter.

Amy seemed relieved. "Oh, I'm so glad you're alright – I always have my head stuck somewhere else," she paused and giggled a little, "it was really nice of you, coming to check if I were alright."

"Uhu?" Killigan blinked. Did she really think he was there for her? That was ridiculous – the thought of being 'nice' was enough to make him sick, let alone the idea of being nice to someone who had nearly broken his nose! What made her think he cared if she was alright or dying? He was just going to get his dirigible to go back home! He quickly shook his head. "No, actually I'm just–" he trailed off as he noticed the hopeful look on her face "er…"

Alright, maybe disappointing her wouldn't be such a wise move. She didn't seem dangerous at all, but he had heard sickening stuff about her creations – and he wasn't dying to be turned into some living cuddle…whatever it was. It was rumoured that she had fused a guy who had insulted her with the rat that Possible's dumb sidekick always carried with him, and he definitely didn't want the same thing to happen to him.

How do you handle golf clubs with a mole's paws anyway?

"I mean…aye, I wanted to be sure ye're fine," he quickly lied, glancing around and hoping none of the other villains were around to listen. He had a reputation to maintain, after all.

Amy gave him huge smile, and Killigan found himself being a little stunned by the sudden change of behaviour. "Aw, no need to be shy!" she chirped, grabbing his arm in an iron grasp. Apparently, thinking he was there because he was worried about her had cheered her up considerably – she seemed to greatly value any attention she got, and for some reason Killigan doubted she got much of it.

"I'm not shy!" he protested, faintly wondering why did she have to stand so close. Shy, him? The world's most dangerous golfer? Ha! That was laughable. He just didn't want to have the other villains think he had gone soft – he would never be able to show his face out of his castle again. He tried to break free from her grasp somehow, but there was no use – how could a woman have such a strong grip?

He snorted impatiently, trying to not lose his temper – the only thing keeping him from snapping was the frightening idea of being turned into a mole-man or something. Besides, he had never exchanged more than a few words with her, and he had no idea of what it could upset her. "Look, lass, I'm really glad to see ye're fine and everythin', but I really have to…get back…" he paused as he saw her pout a little, her grip on his arm still not loosening. "…what now?"

"Well, I thought it would be nice if you stayed a bit more," she said, and Killigan grimaced as she said 'nice' "it was really kind of you to worry about me, and I slammed a door on your face," she giggled a little nervously "I would like to thank you properly. There is a cafeteria downstairs – how about a hot chocolate?"

Killigan couldn't help but shudder at the thought of what the other villains would think of him should they see him drinking hot chocolate with DNAmy of all people. Besides, what could her conversations be like? He didn't think he would be able to listen her endless, sugary babbling about those weird plushies and her sick experiments. What else could someone like her talk about?

"Er…I'd like to stay, lass, but –"

"Wonderful!" she exclaimed enthusiastically, dragging him downstairs "have you ever tried those chocolate chips cookies? You have to!"

Killigan was about to tell her that he didn't have to do anything, that she could eat those blasted cookies herself and leave him alone, but the brief image of himself fused with an hairless rodent that flashed in front of his eyes was enough to make him change his mind.

"Lass, I really have to get back in Scotland…" he tried again as she dragged him inside the cafeteria, trying to stay calm – he wasn't used to justify himself for something, much less for something like that: he was used to follow no rules but his own.

Too bad, she didn't seem to get what he meant. "Ohh, right – you're a Scot, aren't you? That's why you're wearing a kilt," she sounded delighted at the thought as she physically pushed him on the chair, "it's so cute!"

Killigan gritted his teeth, moving the arm she had previously grabbed in the attempt to regain his circulation. 'Cute' wasn't exactly the way he would have described his homeland's traditional clothing, but at least she hadn't mistaken it for a dress like most Americans he had met. "Whatever," he grumbled "anyway, I have to move as soon as–"

"Aw, c'mon – I'm sure you can stay enough time for a snack…two hot chocolates!" she yelled, waving at the waiter to get his attention "do you want cream in your chocolate?"

Now he could definitely see why Monkey Fist shuddered anytime somebody named her. "No, I don't! I just want to–"

"No cream in the second one!" she shrilled at the waiter, completely ignoring whatever he was going to say next "cookies?" she asked.

Killigan was about to forget any caution and just snap, but his stomach grumbled before he could speak. Well, he was hungry after all – he could as well eat something since he was stuck with that woman, he thought as he quickly glanced around to make sure none of the other villains were there. "Ain't there anything else besides cookies?"

DNAmy looked down at the menu. "How about chocolate pie? It's one of the most delicious things I ever ate – it's a must to try!"

The golfer shrugged. As long as it was edible, he had no complicated tastes – especially when he was hungry. "Sounds fine."

"A chocolate pie, then," she cheerfully yelled at the waiter. The idea of just waiting until the guy asked them if the needed anything didn't seem to occur her. "No, not a slice of pie – a whole pie, silly!" she added with a giggle, as if eating a whole pie in a cafeteria was the most natural thing in the world.

Killigan blinked. "The whole pie?" he asked while silently praying whoever could hear him that none of the other villains would show up to see him there.

She grinned sheepishly. "I always eat a bit more than usual when I feel bad," she admitted "and chocolate is the best to feel better."

He frowned a little. "Are ye seriously so down because of Monkey Boy?" he asked bluntly, suddenly reminded of the reason why she had been so upset earlier "what's so special about a lad that only cares about monkey stuff?"

DNAmy blushed a little. "Well…" she paused, unsure if he should try to defend him somehow. She was pretty sure he had asked Drakken to create that storm to get rid of her, and that was kinda rude of him.

"I mean, he doesn't even pay attention to anything that isn't simian related," Killigan added with a shrug, not knowing that she had indeed partially turned herself into an ape in the attempt to catch him "he's not worth so much trouble, if ye ask to me. Is it true that ye ditched Blue for him, by the way?" he asked, amused to no end at the thought.

Amy couldn't help but giggle a little, an almost guilty expression on her face. "Oh, you mean Dr. Drakken? Poor sweetie. I hope he didn't take it too badly."

Killigan couldn't help but grin as he thought of Drakken expression upon knowing he was being dumped by one of the most unattractive women ever for a half-monkey freak. It was a pity nobody had taken a shot of the moment – he would have paid to see that!

His grin faltered a little as he noticed she did actually look worried. "He constantly tries to take over the world, and he constantly fails. He can survive being dumped…it's not like it's the first time it happens anyway," he added with a grin.

She seemed relieved at the thought. "I guess you're right," she said as the waiter placed the hot chocolates and the pie in front of them. Killigan had to admit that the pie really looked mouth-watering. He turned his glance from the pie just in time to notice how the waiter was snickering, watching both them and the huge pie one the table.

"Do ye have a problem, lad?" he barked, causing the young man to shudder and take a step back.

"I…uhu…" the waiter swallowed nervously – he had heard that the golfer had sent a guy to the hospital at the previous convention just because he didn't like the way he was looking at him, and he wasn't dying to be the second one "nothing, sir."

"Smart lad," he muttered as the waiter quickly walked away.

Amy giggled. "Oh, you shouldn't get all angry over this," she said with a shrug as she took a slice of pie "I don't mind."

"I do," Killigan grumbled "people should mind they own…mfgh!"

"Here you go," she cooed as she stuffed the pie in his mouth, stopping him from ranting "isn't it delicious?"

Fine, now she had crossed the line – no one could do a such thing to Duff Killigan and get away with it, insane genetist or not: facing the risk of being genetically fused with a rat or something was nothing compared to that humiliation. Killigan's face turned deep red both for the fury and the mouthful of pie that threatened to choke him. It costed him an awful effort to swallow it.

"What do ye think –" he began screaming, then he surprisingly trailed off and blinked "…it is good," he muttered, apparently forgetting his rage. Truth to be told, that pie was probably one of the best things he ever ate.

She seemed pleased by his reaction. "I told you," she sing-sang as she sipped some hot chocolate.

"Er…aye, ye told me," Killigan glanced around again to make sure no one was looking, and he seemed to relax as he saw that nobody was paying them attention – his previous outburst and his reputation had probably been enough to convince anyone to look the other way.

All the better, he thought as he grabbed another slice. Besides, it was the other villain's opinions he was really worried about, and they were not there – who the heck cared if some John Doe saw him? It wasn't like he was doing anything compromising, and that pie was delicious.

"Oh, I'm glad you like it," Amy giggled a little as she took a bite, and Killigan couldn't help but wonder if she ever stopped giggling like a child in a candy shop "I hope I didn't make you lose too much time…it is a long way to Scotland," she looked almost guilty now.

"Ye could think about it before dragging me here," Killigan said, more amused than really annoyed this time. For some reason the idea that it would be dark before he would be back home and that he wouldn't be able to play golf until the next day didn't bother him too much either, but he was quick to blame the pie for that.

She seemed a little embarrassed. "I don't think much sometimes," she admitted with a chuckle "and now I probably made you lose your flight – I'm terribly sorry!"

"I missed no flight, lass – I got here with my own dirigible, and I can leave wherever I want," Killigan said, his mouth full.

"Oh, the dirigible outside is yours then!" she exclaimed. She sounded delighted at the thought, as if he had just told her he had wings or something. "It must be fun travelling with one of those – I never got a chance."

"Aye, it's not bad," he said, swallowing the last bit and reaching for another slice "it's an easy way to move around, and I can get back to the island wherever I want."

"Oh, you live on an island?"

"My island," Killigan pointed out, proudly puffing out his chest.

"Ohh, you have the whole island all for yourself?" Considering her habit of messing with DNA and creating her own living…whatever, she really was easy to impress, Killigan mused.

"Aye," he said with some pride, "mine and no one else's. It always belonged to my clan."

"Your clan?"

"My family."

"Oh, I understand. It must be wonderful having a place like that all for yourself," Amy said almost dreamily, absentmindedly taking another bite of chocolate pie.

"It's great," he confirmed "I have no need to take over the world when I have my own place where the only rules to follow are mine."

"Oh, I know – I used to have a place like that before Kim Possible showed up," she almost whined "that meanie made my lab blow up."

"Och, that lassie caused a lot of trouble to everyone here," Killigan grumbled, not knowing that the girl in question was leaving the building in that same moment after spending a rather boring day spying the villains' moves, dragging her traumatized boyfriend with her. The sight of Duff Killigan and Amy Hall in a cafeteria 'having a date', as would put it once regained the ability to speak coherently enough without screaming 'wrongsick!' every five seconds, had proven to be too much for poor Ron's brain.

"Oh, don't start sulking now," she giggled at his suddenly grumpy expression "take some other pie – chocolate always makes things better."

Killigan mumbled something intelligible as he quickly took another bite to prevent her from stuffing the pie in his mouth again – she had almost chocked him last time. Truth to be told, he did feel better…and it was the chocolate that was cheering up his mood, of course, not her endless chattering. "Aye, no need to get mad over it. She'll bite the dust sooner or later."

"That's the spirit!" she exclaimed, patting his shoulder with surprising strength and causing him to spill part of his (thankfully no longer so hot) chocolate on his kilt.

"Looks like yer feeling better, lass," he grumbled, glancing at his stained kilt. She seemed quite cheerful for one that had been crying until barely half an hour before – it looked like the chocolate was working on her as well…because it was the chocolate that was brightening her mood, right?

Sure it is! What else could it be?

She nodded. "Yes, much better. Thank you for the company, it works even better than the pie," she said cheerfully, then she glanced down at the pie – there was still half of it left "I don't think I can finish all of it – too bad, it's such a waste! Can't you eat some more?"

Killigan grinned. "I guess I can make this sacrifice," he said as he took another bite, causing her to chuckle.

"I think I'll keep some for Charlie, he loves chocolate – but just one slice, he has to be careful with food. He eats too much," Amy added, taking another bite "it's not really healthy."

The golfer was about to say something about how more convincing she would have sounded wasn't she so fat and speaking with her mouth full of chocolate pie, but he quickly changed his mind. "Charlie?"

"Oh, just a pet of mine," she said with a shrug "one of my homemade creations – a fusion between a rhino and a bunny. He's absolutely adorable, with the cutest ears ever! But he's better than any guard dog when it comes to keep meanies away."

Killigan shuddered slightly as he tried to picture what her 'pet' could look like, then he blinked. "Ye mean…it guards yer property?" he asked. Now, that sounded interesting. He had never thought her genetic experiments could really be useful, but maybe…

"Yes, of course. Why?"

He shrugged. "Well, I had some trouble with that Possible lassie lately – they got on my island looking for a guy I hadn't even kidnapped, and…it didn't end up so well. Looks like the usual stuff isn't enough to keep intruders away, so some kind of…creature guarding my island would be useful. Do ye think –"

"If I could create a pet to guard your home?" she asked, as excited as a kid in a candy shop "of course I can! It could be an aquatic creature, so it could guard the whole island – and there are so many kinds of cute aquatic animal, and…" she paused and giggled as she saw him frowning "oh, silly me…I guess you're more about 'vicious and bloodthirsty' like Dr. Drakken, right?"

"Aye," Killigan said, relieved to see how quickly she had grasped the concept.

DNAmy bit her lower lip a little nervously. "Last time I tried with that kind of stuff, things went out of control – a too vicious creature could turn against you."

He hadn't thought about it. "Aye, maybe it's not such a good idea after all."

"Wait," she pondered for a few moments "how about some creature that's docile enough to obey, but big enough to keep strangers away without having to hurt?"

It sounded like a reasonable compromise – he still didn't know how much the word 'compromise' was going to hunt him in the upcoming years. "Good idea. So, ye can really do it?"

"I'm sure I can! But I'll need some information to decide what kind of DNA I should use – you know, I'd have to analyse the sea it's going to live in. I need to know what kind of habitat the pet will have to live in, the water temperature, the food it could find and such."

"That's no trouble – ye can come to check the place in any moment, lass."

Much to his surprise, she began to giggle – what did she find so funny now? "Are you inviting me to your island?" she asked, leaning forward. A little too forward for his tastes.

"Er…aye," he said, leaning back on the chair as much as he could. He suddenly felt terribly nervous. "Ye know, to check the water and…whatever ye have to check."

"Sure," she cooed, and Killigan faintly wondered if she had ever heard a word of what he had just said. Why was she staring at him like that anyway? Did he have something on his face or…what?

"So…uh…how much is it going to cost?" he asked, partially to turn her attention and partially because, unlike Monkey Boy, he valued money – he wasn't going to spend everything he had…not for anything unrelated to golf anyway.

"Oh, it's free for you – I have all the stuff I need already, I just need some information and so on: it will be a child's play," she said merrily, writing something on the napkin on the table "too bad I have to go now, or I'll lose my flight – here's my number," she handed the napkin to him with an exaggeratedly huge smile.

"Er…I see," Killigan said as he quickly took the number. He was starting to feel quite uneasy now, which was most unusual – but he thought anyone with an Y chromosome would feel uneasy with that odd woman within ten feet from them…and she was once again too close "I'll let ye know when ye can come to check the island."

"Whenever you want, Duffy," she said cheerfully, reaching out to pinch his cheek and causing him to grit his teeth.

"Was that necessary, lass?" he asked, quickly glancing around to make sure nobody had seen or heard that.

"Oh, don't be silly, I was just being friendly," she chuckled as she left the cafeteria almost dancing "I'll be waiting for your phone call!" she shrilled before the door closed behind her.

Duff Killigan just sat numbly for a few moments. He glanced at the napkin still in his hand, and he wasn't reassured at all to see she had scribbled a heart near her phone number – what had he put himself into?

Well, no problem – I'll just forget the number, and that crazy lass won't bother me again. But some kind of menacing creature guarding my island would be useful after all…

He hesitated, then he gave a frustrated sigh as he quickly stuffed it in his pocket – he would think better after playing some golf, he decided. Besides, he didn't have any rush to decide…and anyway, it wasn't like he was afraid she could show up – he could handle her...right?

Killigan got up and turned to the customers that were glaring at him. "What are ye looking at?" he growled. Everyone immediately glanced down as he marched out of the cafeteria, and nobody dared to remind him there was still the bill to pay: two hot chocolates and a pie were not worth any broken bone, after all.

"So she calls it 'our special pie' because it's what ye ate that day?"


Alice made a disgusted face. "Corny and sappy."

Killigan rolled his eyes. "Och, it's yer mother we're talking about. What did ye expect?"

"True," the little girl shrugged "so ye called her eventually. Wrong move."

"Och, I liked the idea of having a giant monster guarding the island. Did ye think that Nessie was yer mother's idea?"

Alice shook her head. "Not cute. Not cuddly. Not nice in any way. Nope, it's not her thing," she grinned "that's why I like Nessie."

"Big, threatening, and potentially dangerous. Aye, it's yer thing," Killigan grinned, proud and somewhat relieved to see how similar his daughter was to him – too bad, he thought with a grimace, she didn't seem to share his love for golf. She seemed to be a little more enthusiastic about it lately, but he suspected it was more because he had given her the permission to use the explosive balls rather that for real devotion to the sport itself. Oh, well…it could be worse. The idea of having to deal with a younger version of Amy was scary to say the least – one DNAmy was enough, thank you so much.

"Pookie bear?"

Speak of the devil, Killigan thought as Alice jumped off his stomach, allowing him to sit upright. Judging by the scent that filled the air, the pie was ready – there was little doubt she had baked it to make him forget the accident with her Rhinosomething and his golf clubs. The golfer cleared his throat, mustered a grumpy expression – he wouldn't have minded getting some extra pie to 'make him stop sulking' – and turned to the door.

Amy giggled a bit nervously as she saw his sulky expression. "So, uhm…Alice told you about Charlie and your golf clubs, I guess," she said, holding the pie in front of her as if its sight could be enough to make him relax.

"Aye, she told me about that freak eating my golf clubs," he snorted, briefly glancing at the mouth-watering pie and ignoring Alice snickering behind Amy's back – she had understood he was playing grumpy to get more pie "I thought I already told ye I don't want that thing anywhere near the castle."

Amy bit her lower lip. "Oh, but sweetums, poor Charlie feels so lonely in that cave! He just wants your company, and he likes you!"

"Aye, it likes me so much that he tried to crush me," he said sarcastically.

"Oh, but honey bunny, he was just hugging you…"

"He was trying to crush me," Killigan repeated with a scowl, causing her to giggle a bit.

"Well, maybe he's a bit jealous of my attentions to anyone else…"

"Besides, it was funny watching ye trying to get him off ye while he was trying to bite yer head off."

"Alice!" Killigan barked.

The little girl held up her hands. "Shutting up."

"No need to be mean to her," Amy said, putting the pie on the nightstand and hugging her daughter protectively, almost suffocating her in the process.

"Mom, no hugging! I'm too big for that!"

"Big? Ye're just a wee lassie," Killigan snickered as the girl struggled to break free from her mother's grasp "is that chocolate pie?" he asked, pretending to have just noticed it.

"For my sweetums," Amy cooed, letting go of his daughter to grab a slice of pie and stuck it in his mouth. Killigan swallowed and took another bite. Not bad, not bad at all – maybe he could quit staying grumpy for a while now.

Amy seemed delighted to see his expression change. "Do you like it, honey bunny?"

"Not bad," he mumbled, his mouth full "anyway, that Rhino…something must star away from the castle, from me and from my golf clubs. Is that clear enough?"

"Maybe he wouldn't give you any more trouble if I gave him some company," Amy suggested innocently.

"Some company? There is plenty of other…things on this island!"



"I think she wants to give him a mate."


Alice shrugged and turned to her mother as Killigan began to choke on the pie. "I think he doesn't like the idea."

"Of course I don't!" Killigan snapped, terrified by the thought of another…thing like that one around. And what if the bred? The thought of a whole litter of those creatures was enough to make him cringe. "We already discussed about it a thousand times: no mates for anyone! I don't want any litter of those…those…"

"Living Cuddlebuddies?" Amy suggested.

"Whatever ye call them. I don't want my island to be overloaded by them. No mates for any of…those, and that's final."

"Dad's right, they could become too many," Alice said, taking a bite of pie from the tray "and it would be too difficult to control them," she added, her mouth full.

He nodded. "Alice got the point."

Amy sighed, just slightly disappointed, but she quickly cheered up – she could always have fun creating some new living Cuddlebuddy, after all. "Maybe you're right, pookie bear."

He grinned. "Aye, I'm always right."

"Besides," the Alice added innocently "if they take over the island or something, I'd be the one that would have to deal with them when dad kicks the bucket."

"That's right, when I'll –" Killigan trailed off and gritted his teeth, his face reddening from fury "why, ye little…" he tried to catch his daughter, but she was quick enough to grab another slice of pie before running out of the room snickering.

"That lassie is getting too sassy," he growled, folding his arms.

"Aw, she was just kidding – don't be too serious," Amy said merrily as she gave him a rib-cracking hug, causing him to gasp for breath "do you think you can take another slice before lunch, honey bunny?"

Well, of course he could. As he gave another bite he had to admit that, aside for his cracked ribs and his desire to rip that damned Rhinobunny into shreds, it wasn't such a bad way to start the day.