I do not own any of the Disney characters named herein, nor the story concept so well portrayed by J. O'Barr, and not so capably by a host of copycats following the late Brandon Lee's iconic film. I am just borrowing characters and concepts to tell my own humble story.
Kim Possible: Lost Souls
A Kim Possible/Crow Crossover
Part Five: Crow
Cold eyes watched the aircraft rolling up to the private hangar, an ambulance, and five SUVs already waiting. Men in blue surrounded the hangar, but the watcher didn't care. He was coming. The one that financed death and destruction. The one that was behind it all. Arranged it all. Using dupes and pawns to carry out his plans while keeping his name relatively clean, and leaving him a handful of scapegoats for when he attempted to make himself the world's savior had their plans gone as intended.
Things had not gone well for anyone, though. Not then. Not now.
The world had recoiled from their truly evil villainy. Even some of their own turned against them after the moon was shattered, and the night sky was forever changed.
Glittering eyes watched the jet stop, the hatch opening, and the watcher knew….absolutely knew….it wasn't enough that the one inside was ill. Possibly dying. There had to be more. There would be a reckoning. Just two more. And they would be avenged.
He would be avenged!
Red hair was shoved back from cold, green eyes, and the watcher leapt nimbly from the top of a nearby support structure, and walked fearlessly toward the waiting men even as a pale man with thinning hair hobbled out of the jet, and looked down at the waiting men as artificial light from the hangar lit the surrounding area a few feet from the nose of the aircraft.
Overhead, a large crow cawed, and thin lips turned down as her glittering green eyes locked on the man who ruined their lives.
"Take me to my son," Senor Senior, Sr. demanded in a surprisingly strong voice.
"Don't you mean what's left of him, old man," a familiar voice drawled.
The white head turned, and the thin lips quirked as the hated voice remarked, "Shego, my dear. Aren't you supposed to be dead?"
"Yeah, well there's a lot of that going around lately," she replied cryptically as she stepped forward.
"So, was it you? Did you kill my Junior? Did you kill all those others to avenge that bitch you secretly loved for all those years?"
The redhead froze just a few feet from the tail of the jet, as yet unnoticed in the shadows beyond the bright circle of light.
The green woman now clad all in black said nothing for a moment.
"You had better come with us, Mr. Senior," Will demanded. "Your life is in danger, even if you don't know it."
"Really, don't they teach you young men anything anymore," the old man sighed as he hobbled down the steps with the help of two orderlies, his right side tellingly stiff. "One's life is always in peril in this world. It is, after all, the way of things."
"Oh….crap," Shego said as she glanced to the device strapped to the belt of her dark uniform that began to clatter nosily at that moment.
"Shego," Will asked as the men around them tensed.
"I've got lots of noise, and lots of red lights, errand boy," Shego told him as she spun around, and looked into the shadows beyond the plane. "Get the loopy, old man out of here. I'll try to…"
Shego froze as the silhouette of a lean, willowy presence stepped forward, two bodies dragged along in seemingly small hands.
"Hello, Senor Senior," came a soft, raspy voice as the redhead stepped out of the darkness into the hangar's lights.
"Kim…..Possible," the old man croaked, his heart thudding heavily in his chest as Shego gestured frantically, willing the agents around them not to move.
They were wrong.
It wasn't monkey boy after all. It was her! Kim Possible, seemingly alive, and untouched by the affects of the radiation that had killed her and Ron. She glanced around, and noted a large, black crow perched on the wing of the Gulfstream staring down at them with cold, fathomless eyes. It cawed loudly, and Kim smiled coldly as her eyes fixed on Senor to the exclusion of all others.
"Crap," Shego hissed, really hating it when she was right.
"How is this possible? Even for you, my dear? Why, you look as lovely and spirited as the last time I saw you. Right before you were burned alive by the fiery forces of nature itself unleashed," the man stated suavely, though he was in obvious pain as his free hand reached for a vial of pills as the other clenched his cane in trembling, whitened knuckles.
"I'd tell you, but it really wouldn't matter," Kim said as she walked past the gaping agents who knew she was supposed to be dead. She stopped just a few feet from the old man even as Senior, Sr. reached the ground at the bottom of the stairs to face her.
The tattered duster she wore over a faded, white battle-suit gave her a strangely macabre appearance, but it was her eyes that shocked them most. They all but glowed with secret fires. And secret knowledge. "So it doesn't matter what I tell you," she went on, those eyes locked on Senior. "You helped kill him. The only decent man in this rotten, decaying husk of a world, and now you have to die. It's Justice, Senor."
"Oh, no, my dear. It sounds more like vengeance," he chided her playfully after popping two small pills into his mouth, and slowly relaxing as the medicine began to work on his pounding heart.
"From where I'm standing, they're the same damn thing," she hissed, baring her teeth as she leapt forward, driving a clawed, glowing hand through the man's chest and literally tearing out his heart in a spray of gore as he staggered back, rheumy eyes staring in shock at his own weakly pulsing organs final beats just before a cruel fist closed, and crushed it into pulp as he died in the same instant.
"Goodbye, Senior," she murmured so quietly it might have been a lover's whisper on the wind. Then she snatched up his falling body before it hit the ground, throwing it so hard it all but exploded against the side of the sleek jet, a burst of blood and gore pained the side of the white and gold aircraft, leaving an oddly avian silhouette behind after the limp body slid down to splat on the tarmac beneath the aircraft as more than one agent doubled over in nausea as they began to vomit at the sight of the gore. Shego knew even she wasn't that strong. Maybe even Hego wasn't that strong.
"Going to try to get in my way again, Agent Du," hard green eyes turned to lock on him as Will instinctively moved to block her when she turned to leave.
"You…..You cannot be here. It's not possible!"
"Check the name, GJ-man," she smiled coldly, and walked past him as he simply stared at her.
Kim paused to stand beside Shego, each of the facing the opposite direction.
Neither looking toward the other.
"You're pretty smart. But you and Wade didn't know they mixed up our graves," she murmured.
"I know what you are," Shego said in a grim voice as she simply stood there, every muscle taut with tension as she didn't even breathe for a moment.
"Then you know what I have to do."
It wasn't a question.
"I… I wish…"
"Wishes are stars in the sky, Sherri," Kim murmured quietly as she called her by her true name. A name Kim should not have known. "They fill the heavens, but so very, very few ever come down to earth. That's what makes them so precious when they do. Please don't get between us. That is my wish now."
She turned to look at her now, but Kim was gone.
Shego said nothing as the agents began babbling, even Will asking her what they should do. Shego ignored the tears brimming in her eyes, and walked out of the hangar without looking back. Or answering them.
"You didn't even try to stop her," Betty demanded of her as Shego sat slumped in a chair in her office.
"I couldn't fight her. Stoppable, I figured I could make a go of it. But not….not her. Not after what happened. It wouldn't be right."
"What's not right is that a resurrected corpse that is killing off people all around us, and when she came after Senior not one of my seventeen hand-picked agents even lifted a hand to stop her," she shouted furiously.
"You had to be there."
"Will told me what Senior said. About you and….."
"What a surprise. Your errand boy is a tattletale, too."
Betty slammed a fist on her desk. "Damn it, Shego….."
"Call me Sherri," she murmured.
"Never mind. I'm going home. Tired," the woman sighed as she levered out of the chair, and walked toward the door.
"Sheg…..? Fine, Sherri," Betty grumbled as the woman glanced back over her shoulder with a scowl. "Do you know where Lipski is now?"
"See if you can find out. We find him, we find her," Betty told her needlessly before she left.
Shego went to her small, nondescript apartment rented under yet another assumed name. Another throwaway bolt hole with nothing personal to mark her coming and going beyond a few changes of clothes, and a toothbrush. She didn't even bother to shower or change as she went to her bedroom, and dropped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling without ever having turned on the light.
"I'm sorry," she finally murmured, her eyes drifting closed as she finally succumbed to her own fatigue, visions of what might have been warring with visions of a cold, harsh reality in her mind.
She didn't see the shadow of a large bird move past her window. Or the more humanoid silhouette that squatted on the sill, perched like a great bird itself before it finally leapt out into the sky to vanish into shadow again. The only trace of the visitor was a small, smudged handprint on the outside of the dirty window.
One that had a vaguely bird-shaped pattern to the splayed impression in the dirt.
"It's Dr. Director," the woman in the blue uniform that was virtually her only wardrobe for so long that she didn't even know what it was like not to be wearing it.
The door slowly opened, and wide, wary eyes peered out as the short, stocky woman let her into the room. That she was obviously worried showed in every line in her wrinkled, sagging visage as she glanced from Betty, to the darkness beyond, and quickly gestured her in to all but slam the door.
"You can't be too safe these days. There are hooligans everywhere," the older woman told her as she bolted, latched, chained, and barred the door.
"Mrs. Lipski, I'll be honest. I need to find Drew. It's a matter of life and death. His."
"I've heard about how some of his old friends are dying off suddenly. It's so dreadful. The reporters say they were accidents, but I didn't get this old by being a fool. Someone is hunting down all of my Drewbie's old playmates, aren't they?"
"Yes, ma'am, they are," Betty nodded, seeing no reason to lie as the woman with frizzled orange hair this week led her to an overstuff couch covered in plastic.
Last week, she knew, the woman's hair had been blue. Her analysts suggested her hair colors might be secret coded messages to her son. Betty thought her new analysts were a little screwy themselves. She knew the woman was simply a loopy, old bitch.
"Oh, dear. Well, I suppose you'll be telling me it isn't you?"
"It's not, ma'am. It's someone that wants Drew dead. Not hurt. Not in prison. Dead."
"Do you know who it is?"
"You would never believe me," she told her sincerely as she ignored the offer for tea. The woman wasn't above drugging people in case they were going to 'try something' as she often put it. She knew some of her agents had been drugged more than once when visiting the seemingly harmless old woman, giving her son time to get away if he were in the area. Or even in the house.
"Try me," Mrs. Lipski murmured, pouring her own cup of tea, and dipping a homemade sugar cookie into the dark brew.
"Do you remember Kim Possible?"
"Oh, that annoying little redhead that was always giving my Drewbie so many headaches? You would not believe the tantrums he used to throw….."
"Yes, ma'am, I would."
"But….wait….. Isn't she dead? Didn't she have some kind of…..accident, or something? I remember hearing about it. I think she and her boyfriend both got killed doing some of that silly extreme stuff youngsters do these days."
"Close enough. But she's come back from the grave to kill those she feels responsible for their deaths, Mrs. Lipski. And Drew is on top of that list."
"But…. But….. My Drewbie wouldn't hurt a fly," she protested vehemently even as a cold chill seemed to suddenly permeate the overly heated room.
The chill was so sudden, and so pronounced that Betty knew something was wrong.
She leapt up, spinning around, one hand on the sidearm she was about to pull even as she found herself face-to-face with Kim Possible who seemed to step right out of the shadows of the dimly lit living room illuminated only by a few small lamps.
The pale redhead didn't even look at Betty as she walked over to sit beside the old woman staring at her, naturally, as if seeing a ghost.
"Now, now, now," the redhead sighed in an all too familiar tone that Betty knew was genuine. "We both know Drew was the most twisted, selfish, and morally indifferent man ever to walk on the face of the planet. He injured and maimed tens of thousands. He killed thousands more. He cost billions of dollars of damage, and ruined countless lives, reputations, and businesses."
"And you know it. You knew it all along," she said, patting the old woman's thick thigh covered by a gaudily colored sundress.
"You….. You're not a nice person," she hissed at Kim. "I don't know how you got in my house, or who you think you are…..!"
"You know who I am, Mrs. Lipski. And I'm here for the same reason Betty is. I want Drew. I want to thank him for all he's done for me."
"I don't believe you," the woman said, reaching into the folds of the dress that hung loose around her stocky frame. "You'll never get near my Drewbie! Never," she cried, and pulled up a shotgun pistol, pulling both triggers even as the weapon was pressed right against Kim's slender belly.
She stared down at it, didn't bat an eye as the weapon discharged, and only jerked as it exploded through her flesh and bone, spraying blood and gore over the plastic-covered furniture.
Betty stared in horror. Not just at the grizzly wounds, but at the fact the redhead who wasn't supposed to be alive anyway wasn't dying again. She only stared down at the hole in her abdomen, then looked up at the orange-haired woman and hissed, "Ouch," with as much feeling as one might give for a paper cut.
Kim sighed as she batted the gun away from the woman's trembling hands before she could reload, her eyes all but bulging as she saw Kim's macabre wounds healing in slow-motion as if they were watching a horror film rather than reality unfold before them. Betty's own hand was clutching the butt of her specially modified laser pistol, but she had yet to draw it. She was gaping herself as Kim now reached out, and cupped the older woman's face in her small, gloved hands. The gaping hole in her belly already completely sealed.
"Where is Drew," she asked softly, almost playfully.
"I don't know. And even if I did, I'd never tell you. Never, you…!"
"I believe you," Kim sighed, smiling sadly. "And I understand. Really, I do. You're a mother, and he's your little boy. Right?"
"And no mother wants you see her little boy get hurt. Even if he is a monster."
"Still, you aren't much help, but you might warn him. I can't allow that. And you shouldn't have to see what I'm going to do to him."
"And you really shouldn't have shot me," Kim said so quietly that for a moment neither she nor Betty heard the venom in the redhead's voice as her powerful hands twisted, and the old woman's head turned a full one-hundred and eighty degrees to face the back of the couch, her neck and vertebrae snapping like rotted wood before Kim released her to let her fall back on the blood-smeared couch.
Kim stood up, brushing away the residue of her own impossible injuries as she eyed the shredded battle suit that left her pale flesh bared. Flesh without so much as a blemish on it. Then she turned to Betty who sat in a chair across from the couch, and walked around the table to stand beside her.
"I take it you don't know where he is either, or you wouldn't be here, would you?"
Betty swallowed hard, saying nothing. Knowing nothing need be said.
"K-Kimberly….I'm not sure what's going on here, but…..this isn't you. This….."
"You were smart not to pull that weapon. I really don't want to hurt you. In fact, I always admired you. And, yes, Dr. Director, this is me. They killed us. They killed Ron. They cannot be allowed to get away with that. I won't let them."
Betty felt a knot rise in her throat.
"I'm going to go now. But first, there are two things you should know."
"Just two," Betty Director managed to ask calmly as she looked up at the woman in the ragged duster covering her mostly shredded battle-suit.
"Just two. First. Stop feeling guilty about us. What happened out there was not your fault. It was theirs," she said grimly as the soft flutter of unseen wings shifting restlessly filled the dimly lit room. Second," Kim went on after looking away for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "Don't be so hard on Sherri. You and her have more in common than you know."
"Goodbye, Elizabeth," she said with a said smile, shocking the brunette by using her own name so rarely voiced these days. "With luck, this will soon be over, and we won't meet again."
"Wait," Betty jumped up as Kim walked past her.
Even as she moved, spinning around to search the room around her, she knew Kim was gone. Vanished as abruptly as she had come. She did not pause to ponder her trembling hands as she pulled out her radio and called in a cleanup team. Then she raised the priority sweep for any sign of Drew Lipski. Right now, he was apparently the last. Betty wondered if Shego was right. If Kim would just….go away once she was done. Still, she couldn't accept that. Couldn't live with that.
She had sent those kids to their deaths. She would not stand by and watch their reputations smeared by some apparent….ghost coming back to bloody their names with mindless vengeance. Only she wasn't sure what she could do about it. Even now, she wasn't sure what shocked her more. Watching her take a shotgun blast to the gut, and ignore it as if it were nothing. Or watching Kim kill so blatantly, so causally.
The sun was setting on the third day, news of yet another grizzly killing in the villain community topping the reports, when Jack Hench heard something thud against the door in private office. Insulated, and sound-proofed, he couldn't hear what was going on outside, but the very fact something had slammed against that door hard enough for him to notice was telling.
"Gina," he buzzed his secretary. "What's going on out there?"
There was no answer.
"Gina? Where are you, woman," he demanded, knowing he had not released her despite the lateness of the hour.
"Gina," he asked as the usual quiet met his query.
No static. No reply. Not even another thud at the door.
Frowning, he walked over to the doors, and pulled them open. Staring out into the grizzly remains of his night crew, complete with scattered bodies that made his outer office appear more a charnel house than a business.
"What the devil…..?"
"Funny choice of words," Kim smiled as she walked out of the bloody carnage around her, covered in blood, her jacket a shapeless rag around a body covered only by the equally shredded remains of a once white bodysuit of some kind.
"You," Jack Hench gaped, staring at the impossible presence before him.
"You're a hard man to reach, Mr. Hench," she said, walking up to him as he backed into his office, not sure how the woman was standing there bathed in blood and gore, but knowing he did not want her touching him.
"Very, very hard," she smiled coldly. "Almost as hard as the man I came here to find."
"Wh-Wh-What man," he asked, his mind instantly looking for deals and outs as he calculated than thirty-two corpses lay outside his office, and Possible, supposedly dead for a year now, didn't have a mark on her so far as he could tell.
"Drakken," she hissed, the name coming out like a curse. "If there is one man on this planet that knows where he is, you're it. Now, you can cooperate, tell me where he is, and I'll leave you to run your silly little empire, or… I can take my time convincing you, and you'll tell me anyway. Maybe you'll even survive," she told him as she flexed small hands that cracked audibly as a smile etched across her pale, bloodied face that made his own blood run cold.
"He's in Go City," Jack blurted out without even weighing his options.
One look at that unholy gaze was all he needed to know he wasn't going to be able to deal with this crazed bitch.
"I swear," he almost whined when her eyes narrowed with grim intent.
"Where," she demanded, still standing just a few feet from him, her eyes hooded, her expression deceptively impassive.
"He's… He's hiding in the abandoned Go Tower. He figured…..no one would ever look there. Even tourists don't even bother to visit that dump any more."
"All right. We'll see. But, Jack…..?"
"Y-Yes," he asked as she turned to walk toward the open door.
"If you warn him, I'll be back. And there won't be a place on this planet where you can hide. Not from me."
She left him standing there, leaning against his own desk as the bitter odor of blood and urine filled the air. Some of the latter his own. A large bird he had not noticed until then cawed as it flew from a file cabinet to follow the very scary redhead. It tickled a memory of an old wife's tale his granny once told him from the Old Country. It was not a nice story.
Shuddering, he shook his head in denial, and rushed to slam the door, bolting it, and returning to his desk. Sitting down, he ignored his damp slacks, and just stared vacantly as he tried very hard not to think of what that idiot Lipski had stirred up this time. He never should have done any business with him. Ever. That was one fruitcake that was beyond mere evil, and was just plain insane. That said, he didn't even want to try to think what that made the redhead that had just walked out of his office.
He wasn't sure there were words to describe that creature.
"Da-da-da-dum, dum, da-dum."
A dark head cocked as the man working on the engine of a circular aircraft paused, and frowned, his scarred left cheek crinkling in thoughtful repose as he wondered aloud, "Or was it da-da-dum, da-dum, dum? Meh. I can never remember. Oh, well, not that it matters," he muttered to himself as he continued to tweak his personal hovercraft.
With a little luck, he could amp the horsepower, and keep the stealth gear he had borrowed from crashing the main turbines this time when he had to make a quick getaway. Things had gotten so much harder of late since Shego had taken off, and left him, apparently dying on the moon, he had heard. Well, it was her own fault for being late to the briefings.
And, of course, the getaway.
Still, even a year later, the sweetness of her defeat remained fresh in his mind. All those years, and he had finally put both those annoying do-gooders firmly in the ground. In space? Well, they were in space when they died, and he rather doubted they had saved that much of them bury considering they were literally at ground zero when two dirty nukes went off before they could escape.
He chortled again at the thought, and his only regret was that he couldn't quite boast over his personal victory as much as he would like. Even some of his peers only frowned when he brought up his moment of triumph. Then, too, Shego wasn't around to rub it in that he, not a comet-powered freak, had finally done in the cheerleader.
Still, lately a lot of his former co-conspirators were dropping dead with alarming frequency in less than coincidental accidents according to the media.
After Junior was killed, he was smart enough to get out of his mother's basement where someone might find him, and locate another hiding place where no one would ever think to find him. With good reason. The tower was a dump, and had all the amenities of a child's clubhouse. He couldn't even get good cable reception!
Sighing, he turned back to his repairs, fully intending to be ready in case he had to make another fast getaway.
"Hello, Drew," a voice drawled so softly he almost missed it.
"Eh? Is someone there? You're trespassing you know," he pointed out reasonably.
A soft chortle was his only reply as something rustled from overhead. Like a large bird that was flying across the hangar where only a single, antiquated jet was parked next to his own hovercraft.
He frowned, shrugged, and started to reach for a tool only to find it was missing.
"Now this isn't funny. Those things cost money, you know," he told the trespasser as he turned to stare around the dark hangar lit only by his work lights since the Tower was technically abandoned, and had no electrical hookup any longer. Which, regrettably, meant he couldn't just throw a switch, and steal power as usual.
The trespasser laughed again.
"Well, it would if I paid for it. Still…..I need that."
"You're just too dumb to even be scared. Aren't you, Dr. D?"
"Meh? Do I know you? Show yourself," he said a little uneasily.
He heard faint footsteps as if someone were walking toward him. He slid a hand into a pocket of his trademark blue lab coat a few shades darker than his cerulean skin, and waited. "Do I owe you money," he asked, the footsteps having suddenly stopped, but no sign of anyone around him just then.
"No. Not money," a woman's voice murmured from directly behind him.
He spun around, and screeched in an almost feminine voice as he looked into the pale, smirking features of a creature from his darkest nightmare.
"Kim Possible," he cried, backing away to trip over his own toolbox, and land sprawling as he continued to stare up at her. "But…. But…. But you're…..dead! I know you're dead! I saw your funeral. I visited your grave. I even….."
Kim walked over to squat down in front of him.
"I think you know why I'm here."
"You…..You killed everyone. Didn't you," he grimaced, sounding like a little boy who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"Oh, yes," she smiled, she nodded, reaching down, and pulling him up to his feet as she stood, handling his weight with unnatural ease.
"And…. And you're going to kill….me, too," he whimpered.
"Yes. Yes, I am. You deserve it, you know. You killed Ron. The only truly good man in the world."
"Ron? The name escapes me. I have killed so many, you see….."
"Never mind. You know what you did. And I have something for you. Something special I've been saving just for you."
"Really? A present? For me?"
Her green eyes glittered. "Oh, yes. Just for you."
Drew didn't like the sound of that, noting she didn't let go of his lapels, and her hands started to glow in a curious manner.
"Is it…..going to hurt," he whined as he looked into her burning, green orbs.
"Oh, yes. It's going to hurt a lot," she assured him just before she unleashed all the nuclear energies contained from her and Ron's deaths in that EVA pod that felt like an eternity ago.
The man held helpless in her hands screamed, and tried to escape as his garments charred, and his flesh began to melt as the blood boiled in his veins. But her hands wouldn't release him, and the deadly energies she radiated filled the entire hangar as his scream was abruptly cut off as soft tissue and lungs burned away until he couldn't breathe any longer. He fell from her grip, staring sightlessly out of ruined, liquefied eyes as she turned and walked away without looking back. The body convulsed, more dead than alive, pain echoing through every surviving nerve cluster as the brain tried to deny what was happening, but the soul understood all too well.
By the time the echo of a large crow faded, the once more abandoned hangar was completely dark, and the charred corpse laying in the middle was completely dead.
"I knew you'd come back here."
Kim slowly turned to see Shego standing near a tree close to her grave.
"I kind of figured when I saw you show, Princess." She eyed her shredded garments, and tried not to shudder. "Looks like a hard night."
"I take it….you found Dr. D?"
That she didn't answer was answer enough.
"I tried to warn you. You and Stoppable. Even I felt they crossed a line that day. Hell, they crossed a freakin' gulf."
"I know, Sherri. I appreciate it. But it's done. Ron is avenged, and now I'm going….to whatever waits."
Shego wanted to step forward. Wanted to touch her. Wanted….a lot. Instead, she stared as Kim gave her a faint, almost bitter smile, and turned back to her grave.
"It was fun. Wasn't it, Kimmie," she called out desperately as Kim shrugged out of the ragged, bloody duster she had been wearing.
"It was spankin', Sherri," she said quietly, and sadly, and gently touched her own name engraved in marble as her tombstone began to glow a soft blue.
She choked off, staring at the translucent shape of another familiar face smiling at Kim as he stood there standing over the grave in a flowing, white gi.
Surrounded by a faint, blue aura, Ron smiled warmly at the ragged, bloody figure before him, and reached out to embrace her. Kim gave a soft cry, and flung herself at him.
Shego gave a wordless cry as a bright light exploded the moment they met, blinding her for an instant. By the time she could see again, the open grave was somehow restored, and everything looked…..proper again.
"Rest in peace, Princess," she sniffed, and stepped forward, putting a single, red rose on the ground over the grave she knew was really Kim's.
"Miss Go," a husky voice called from behind her in the darkness.
Shego turned, tensed for trouble, and stared at a familiar redhead in a shawl and carrying a flashlight.
"Dr. Possible," she frowned at Ann's pale, drawn face.
"It is you," the woman said as she walked forward, the light playing over the graves. "We heard….."
"Yeah. Yeah, I know. And….Technically, Shego is dead. I have been using Jade now. But… But it's Sherri. Okay?"
"Why are you out so late, Doc," she asked quietly, wondering how much the woman might have seen.
"I heard….. I was told someone vandalized their graves," she choked. "I….I had to see."
"No. I wouldn't let that happen. You can see," she smiled sadly, gesturing at the now peaceful plots. "All good."
"Yes. Shego…..Ah…..Sherri. Were you…..there?"
"No," she sighed, catching the woman's heavenward glance, and understanding what the woman meant. "I wish I had been. I would have given my own life for hers if I could have, but….."
"I know. I felt the same way. But she died the way she lived. That's what I try to remember," she said, walking up to stand beside Shego only then. "I still do."
"Please. Call me Ann. I know she considered you a friend. I… I just wish….."
"Wishes are like stars in the sky," Shego sighed impulsively. "They fill the heavens, but so very, very few ever come down to earth. That's what makes them so precious when they do."
"What," Ann almost cried.
"It's just…something someone told me," she smiled wanly.
"Sheg….. Sherri. That's a line directly from a book Kim was writing before… Before. A book she never finished. And I have the only copy. Did you…..?"
Shego shook her head. "Kimmie was a writer? I guess I shouldn't be surprised. So, what was it about?"
"I'll tell you….. If you tell me where you heard that," Ann demanded firmly.
"First, tell me something, Ann. Have you ever heard of a legend about a crow?"
"Will tells me you've been spending a lot of time with Ann Possible lately," Betty said as Shego walked into the office a few weeks later.
"She's a friend."
"I didn't know you had friends, Agent Jade," Betty drawled as she finished the final report on cleaning up after Kim's vengeful spree following her unlikely resurrection. Not that she was saying anything about crows, revenant's, or anything similar. So far as the public would ever know, a person or persons nknown had killed those felons.
None of them would be missed.
As to Dr. Drakken's very nasty ending that even she couldn't explain, well, he was always blundering into dangerous places, and tinkering with dangerous forces. So far as the official report was concerned, he had killed himself in yet one more blunder with an experiment that had obviously gone awry. One that necessitated Go Tower being leveled, and the small island being encased in cement to ensure the residual remaining radioactive fallout was buried with the remains of the madman that had caused so much grief over the years.
"There's a lot you don't know about me, Bets," she smiled, sounding a bit more carefree of late.
"So, what do you two talk about?"
"Things. Stuff. You know?"
Betty frowned. "Actually. I don't."
Shego suddenly smiled. "You really should get out more."
"Do you think…..Dr. Possible would mind if I visited her with you sometime?"
"Sure. In fact, you might be able to help us with a project we're working on."
"A project," Betty frowned.
"Yeah. Did you know our Kimmie was working on a book before she died?"
"No. No, I didn't."
"Imagine that. You really don't know everything," the green-skinned woman grinned.
"Sherri," Shego told her with another smile.
"All right. Sherri. So…..A book?"
"Yeah. It's a fictionalized account of her life. Or would have been. We talked it over, and I convinced Ann she should finish it. If only to serve as a memorial of the real Kim we both knew, and loved."
"I think it would be a fitting tribute for a brave young woman," Betty nodded, still unable to accept the Kimberly she knew and remembered as being that bloodthirsty thing she had met at the Lipski's house.
"Yeah. We think so, too."
"Sherri. I was wondering about something. That legend you told us about. Does it say what happens after the Crow is finished? About…..where they go?"
"Not a word. So far as I know, they just go to wherever they were meant to go all along. I guess it's like everything else. You have to hope for the best, and trust that someone out there really does have a plan for us."
"Even you," Betty asked, caught by surprised at hearing that kind of sentiment from her.
"Yeah. Even me," she smiled, never having told anyone but Ann about what she had seen that night Kim returned to her resting place. That was a memory she wouldn't share with anyone else. It was….special. It was hers.
"I suppose you are right," the brunette murmured, and then surprised herself as much as Shego when she blurted out, "So…. Would you like to go out for a drink, or something sometime?"
Shego just stared at her.
Betty, half expecting a familiar sarcasm, told her, "I just thought…. We've been working together all this time now, and after what happened…. Well, I thought we might get to know one another a little better. Maybe… Maybe even get to be…..friends. For the sake of the one we both shared."
Betty sat in her chair, waiting for the snipe. The dry wit. The brush-off. She was surprised yet again when Shego nodded, and told her, "Why not? How about lunch? I know a pretty good place not far from here. They have a really good chardonnay."
Betty found herself relaxing, and feeling oddly…..hopeful. "All right. Shall I meet you at the main doors at noon?"
"Better make half past. I have to go finish those reports on the South American thingy."
"All right," the head agent agreed with a genuine smile.
"Just bring your credit card," Shego grinned.
"Well, it's traditional for the boss to pay, right," Shego winked as he rose from the seat where she had been lounging.
Betty couldn't help but shake her head at the woman. "That won't let you off the hook for those reports. Especially since I'm looking forward to hearing how you lost two aircraft this time."
"Hey, RPG's are a bitch even for me," Shego chortled as she walked out of the office. "Later, Bets."
"Don't call me….."
The door closed behind her, and Betty couldn't help but smile. Maybe she is a lot more like me than I thought. It would be fun to find out, she thought. And it might be nice to see Ann Possible again, and finally bury that guilt she had been carrying around in her like a living thing all this time.
Time would tell.