A/N: This is an idea that popped into my brain a while ago. This will most likely be a one-shot unless people want more.

The answering machine was blinking; four missed calls. A pale finger pressed the button and a never-changing message echoed through the house.

"Hi, we can't come to the phone right now-" A burst of giggles. "C'mon! I'm trying to make a recording!" A low purring voice could be heard in the background.

"C'mon yourself, Pumpkin…" Another burst of giggles before a few seconds of silence. "Cupcake and I can't come to the phone right now, because we are otherwise occupied doing delightful other things-"

"Shego!" A disdained and embarrassed voice chastised. "That's it, we're starting over-ohhhh…" A slightly distracted, husky voice murmured into the recorder.

"Please leave a message after the beep."

A whirring noise signaled the beginning of the new messages.

"Hey, GF, answer the damn phone. Next week is July 15th. You know what's going down. Call me."


Next message.

It started with controlled breathing and a few sniffles before the caller started talking. The owner of the answering machine stiffened in her chair.

"It's been months, dear. Come home. You know you are always welcome here. Please." Another pause, and the speaker couldn't hold back any sobs this time. A more masculine voice took over.

"We are going to expect to see you next week. You'll upset your mother if you're not there. I know you'll do the right thing."

Her pale hand hesitated for a moment, but still hit the delete button.

Next message.

"You know, even though you're good, I still consider us one big, happy, evil family, so if you ever need a job-"

Her fist slammed down on the delete button. If she had finished listening to the message, the damned machine would have ended up a pile of broken plastic and wires.

There was one more message.

"Hello, Mrs. Possible." Her breath hitched at the familiar voice and she clutched her chair. "This is Dr. Iyur from the Middleton Experimental Clinic. I do not know if this information is relevant to you any longer, in light of the funeral that is taking place next week, but we have found that the procedure should work. If you are still interested in having the child carried to full term, we can discuss conditions this Friday, the 10th of July. Call to make an appointment."

"End of messages. If you would like to listen to your saved messages, press-" The answering machine was torn out of the wall and flung out the front door, landing in a pile of plastic and wires in the middle of the street. A roar of fury and helplessness was followed by a fiery burst of plasma landing on the remains of the machine.

Shego paused, her heavy breathing the only noise besides a few ruffled birds setting back down on the telephone wires.

Of course. The damn DNA.

A bark of disbelieving laughter came from her black lips as she caressed the ring on her left hand.

"Anything's possible for a Possible."