Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.
Chapter title is a 1982 song written by Paul McCartney and recorded with Stevie Wonder. In the context of this story it should be considered ironic, since you won't be getting any perfect harmony.
Ebony and Ivory
Drakken blinked and stared again at the two captives. "Who are they?" he whispered to Shego.
"You don't need to whisper," she sighed. "Or are you trying to hide the fact you're an... You really don't recognize him?"
"No... Should I? He... Hmmm, he looks slightly familiar... Ah, Kim Possible's kick in the head, Rob."
"Sidekick," Ron corrected him, "and it's Ron."
"He may have had the kick in the head right," Shego smirked. She did a quick step and her hand darted out, snaring a small pink form. Rufus twisted, and prepared to– "Bite me and it's the last hand you'll ever bite," she warned.
"Heel, Rufus," Ron ordered.
Shego dropped the naked mole rat in a bag and tied it shut. "However, I don't recognize her either, unless Kim has spent way, way too much time under a sun lamp."
"Not funny. My name is Monique."
"Okay, your name is Monique. Who the hell are you?"
"I'm, ah, Kim's emergency backup if Ron isn't available."
"I'll let Doctor D here ask the obvious question."
"Thank you, I–" he paused. "Exactly what did you mean by that."
The green woman shrugged, "Take it any way you like."
"Fine. The question is, where is Kim Possible?"
"She has mono. The doctor isn't letting her leave the house."
"Mono?"
"Mononucleosis," explained Shego. "She has so little respect for you that she's sending out assistant assistants to stop... I don't know about you, but I am deeply insulted."
Ron explained, "She, umm, didn't know we went out. Wade called me and, I, uh..."
"Okay, so it's you who insulted us. And Monique here isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer since she came along for the disaster."
Monique wanted to say something in her own defense, but realized it would come off simply as blaming Ron. He was to blame, but she suspected he already felt bad enough that she saw no reason to add to his misery.
"What do we do with them?" Drakken asked his assistant. "I have a new death trap prepared for Kim Possible. We could drop them in it."
"Let's think this through," Shego told him. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why waste a perfectly good death trap on them? They've just proven they're no threat."
"I want to test my– Ah! We dispose of them so that no one will know where the new lair is!"
Shego sighed, "Two problems." She pointed to Ron, "First, he did not have the brains to figure out where the lair is. Right?"
"Right," answered Ron.
"That would be their computer nerd," Shego explained to Drakken. "Taking these two out will not keep the lair from Kim Possible. And while I can't understand why, I have a sneaking suspicion the cheerleader might get real pissed off if we bumped these two clowns off. Call it a hunch. You really want to risk getting Princess angry?"
Drakken hesitated, he didn't want to admit to fearing Kim Possible, nor did he want to face Shego's sarcastic laughter if he boldly denied being afraid of Kim. "So, ah, what do you suggest we do with these two?"
"Three," Ron said.
Drakken looked puzzled. Shego held up the bag in her hand, "Three," she agreed, counting Rufus. "And he's probably the most competent of the trio. You're the evil genius and sign the paycheck. What do you propose?"
"You're just saying that so you can shoot down whatever I say," pouted Drakken.
"Well, duh. Why should today be any different than any other day?"
"Okay, we chain them up and–"
"Problem!" Shego interrupted.
"You didn't even give me time to finish!"
"Chaining up a black gets you in all kinds of trouble with the Feds. Something about eighteen-sixty-five and the Civil War being over. Emancipation Proclamation and all that yada yada yada."
"African-American," Monique corrected her. "Not black, African-American."
"You born in Africa?"
"Uh, no. I was born in Cleveland. We moved to Middleton from–"
"So why aren't you a Cleveland-American?"
"Well, African-American means–"
"When did your ancestors come over?"
"I don't know."
"Someone moves to the US from Jamaica. Her ancestors brought to the Caribbean as slaves five hundred years ago. She a Jamaican-American or an African American?"
"I... I'd call her an African-American. I mean, her people came from Africa originally."
"You want to talk originally? Best guess is we all came from Africa originally."
"What?" Drakken demanded.
"Best guess by the anthropology guys," shrugged Shego. "Human beings originated in Africa, we think. Some of us got out earlier than others. Maybe someday the anthropology guys will theorize that humanity originated in Cleveland, and the blacks were the first people to wise up and move out." Shego turned back to Monique, "So, Chocolate, am I an African-American?"
"Chocolate is an–"
"Yes or no, am I an African-American?"
"No."
"You said if someone's ancestors were from Africa five hundred years ago they–"
"Five hundred years isn't that long."
"Okay, maybe not. Now, how about ethnic groups of North Africa? The Copts, Berbers and other people have been there thousands of years don't consider themselves black Africans. Or you've got the Boers who've lived centuries in–"
"You're confusing me."
"Oh, I haven't even started. The politically correct phrase to use keeps changing. Colored, Negro,–"
"Those were insulting terms."
"They were terms the African-American community preferred to what the whites were calling them. Whites name the NAACP or the United Negro College Fund?"
"Where do you get this stuff?" whined Drakken.
"High school diversity class."
Monique asked, "You flunk?"
"Highest grade in the class," Shego assured her smugly.
"So you plan to talk them to death?" Drakken complained. "The question is what do we do with them?"
Ron chimed in, "I'm, uh, a little curious too."
"Okay, cheerleader will be on her feet eventually. Nothing like a good hostage to keep her from–"
"That never worked in the Doc Savage books," Drakken pointed out.
"Doc Savage?"
"Hero in magazines in the thirties, the stories were reprinted as paperbacks. I had them all... Until Kim Possible blew up my second lair."
"Fortunately we're not in cheap magazines from the thirties. We keep one of Pumpkin's friends as hostage and threaten to drop the hostage to a shark or something if she shows up."
"So, who is our hostage?"
Shego held up the bag, "While I think the rat is the most dangerous of the lot I don't want to clean up after him. And while Doofus can usually be counted on to lose his pants and cause problems he is also capable of being effective once in awhile. The fact Katherine Hepburn here is emergency backup says she's the one least–"
Drakken looked puzzled, "I thought her name was Monique... Isn't Katherine Hepburn dead?"
Monique thought she had it figured out. "That was the name of the boat!"
"Chocolate or Kate. Your choice," Shego offered.
"Kate," sighed Monique. Ron and Drakken stared blankly. "African Queen," she explained.
Ron and Drakken still appeared equally lost. "African Queen?"
Shego looked at Monique, "I need to give you more respect. You've got cultural literacy." She looked back and forth between Ron and Drakken. "Classic movie. Humphrey Bogart and Katherine Hepburn. And if either of you need to ask who Humphrey Bogart was, I will hurt you. Clear?"
"So... Rod and Rufus?" asked Drakken, changing the subject. "What do we do with them?"
"Turn them loose. Let them tell Princess we're holding Ebony as hostage to–"
A cell phone started ringing. The four looked at each other. Monique's skin tone concealed her blush, "I, ah, forgot to turn the ringer off," she stammered.
Shego took the phone from Monique's cargo pocket. "Hello? ... No, she can't come to the phone right now, all tied up. ... Yes, very busy here at Club Banana. ... Take a message? Sure. ... Um. ... Okay. ... I'll tell her immediately. Hope your sister comes through the surgery with flying colors."
"What was it?" Monique demanded when Shego disconnected.
"Wrong number."
"It wasn't, it... My aunt?"
"Yeah. Your Mom's leaving town. You were supposed to watch your brothers... How many?"
"Two. I–"
"Keep me as the hostage," Ron exclaimed. "She needs to go."
"I hate to point this out," Shego pointed out, "but it's the choice of the captors on which captive they want to keep. You don't get a vote."
"Please," Ron begged, "this was my idea. Let her go."
"Already told you, not your choice. Too risky to keep you. That rat is dangerous. Need a hostage we can keep control of."
"But... You want Kim to come out and try and fight you while she's sick!"
"Not my plan, but that's actually not bad. There is evil hope for you."
"My brothers need me... My mom's counting on me," Monique begged. "I'll come back and serve as hostage as soon as my mom gets back! Word of honor, I'll do anything!"
Shego raised an eyebrow, "Anything?"
"I... I won't hurt anyone. I won't do anything to hurt Kim."
Shego looked at Ron, "Her word of honor any good?"
"Absotuvily! You can trust Monique."
Shego, told them, "Let me think about this a second," and fell silent.
"Don't I get any say in this?" objected Drakken.
"No," Shego told him flatly. "And I said give me a minute to think."
After time to think, Shego demanded, "You will recognize yourself as my hostage–"
"Our hostage!"
"Fine, you will recognize yourself as our hostage. You'll tell Cupcake that you're our hostage and tell her she can't pick a fight with me while you're hostage?"
Monique hesitated, "But you'll attack her! I said I won't help you hurt her."
"Oh, I promise not to attack her – unless she attacks first and it's self-defense. Cross my black and treacherous little heart, I won't start a fight with her."
Monique looked at Ron, "She's lying, right?"
"Uh, It's weird, but she's got her own code of honor. If she makes a promise she'll keep it."
"But there's a trick in there somewhere, right?"
"Of course there is," Shego answered. "I don't think Kim can keep in control. If she attacks me... There may be a couple other angles I can use here. But word of honor, I won't throw first punch, kick, head-butt, plasma blast, or even a paper airplane at her. You going to watch your brothers or not?"
Monique looked at Ron, "What should I do?"
"I'm the one who got us in this... Wade can think of something."
"Good point," complimented Shego. "One of the angles I need to work on." She looked at Monique, "Taking my offer or not?"
"I... I accept."
Shego grinned, "Good." She leaned over and with a slash of razor tipped gloves freed Ron's legs, and pulled him to his feet. "Turn around," she ordered. Ron closed his eyes and said a little prayer, as she slashed off the ropes binding his arms. "Here's the rat. Get out. Soon as you're in Middleton call Princess and tell her we're holding Monique as hostage."
"But you said–"
"And Monique should beat you back to Middleton. I'll drive her. You're going to confirm the fact Monique is our hostage, Cupcake might think I had a gun at her head or something."
"Go, Ron," Monique urged him. "It's not like we've got a lot of choices."
Ron and Rufus reluctantly headed down the passage. Ron felt he should go back and try a rescue, but feared he might only make things worse if he tried. What if Monique wasn't back at Middleton by tonight? Kim was sick, but she might try a rescue and get hurt. Maybe he could call Team Go for help...
"Now what?" Drakken demanded.
"Give me a minute to... Oh, need two ankle bracelets, like the GPS things they put on to monitor... Yeah, make one of them a GPS. We'll advertise it as a bomb."
"You're putting a bomb on my leg?" Monique asked nervously.
"No, but you'll tell Kim you have a bomb on your leg."
"I... I don't want to lie to her."
"You're 'I'll do anything' doesn't go very far. Fine, you can tell her you're our hostage right?"
"Right."
"Then you hand your cell phone to me and I'll lie to her. All you have to do is keep your mouth shut. Oh, and tell Pumpkin you promised you wouldn't let Nerdlinger scan it, examine it, or try and remove it. Got that?"
"Other than the Nerdlinger part... You mean Wade?"
"Yep." She looked over at Drakken, "Why are you still here? I told you to make a couple ankle bracelets. Make them fancy, the viewer should be in awe of your handiwork."
Drakken smiled as he ambled off, "Sense of awe," he mumbled.
"You come with me while I pack a few things," Shego ordered Monique.
"Pack?"
"Yeah, I'm crashing at your place while your Mom's gone."
"But–"
"I'll do anything, remember? I'll tell Kim you have to stay within ten miles of me, or the bomb on your leg goes off. She doesn't come out here 'cause she wants to keep you safe. I get a break from boy blue's rants, and he gets a break from my snark. Wins all around."
"What do I tell my brothers? I was thinking maybe I wouldn't mention the hostage stuff."
"Don't. Why complicate things with the truth?"
"They're going to ask why you're staying."
"I'm your tutor. Got a class you're flunking?"
"I'm earning straight A's."
"Gimme a minute..." Shego stuck out her right hand for a shake, "Hi, I'm with the executive office of affirmative action. I'm here to help you with your essay for your application to Harvard."
Monique shook her head 'no', "Not interested. Got my application into Yale. Better program."
Shego stuck out her right hand out a little further for emphasis, "I'm with the executive office of affirmative action. I'm here to help you with your essay for Harvard. You need a backup school in case Yale turns you down."
Monique shrugged, and shook hands.
"Now, as an older sister myself, I will not show you disrespect in front of your brothers. I will–"
"Thank you."
"You will let me finish. In front of your brothers I call you Monique. And, in return, you don't whine like a baby if I call you Ebony, Mahogany, Chocolate, or Kate when they aren't around."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. I need to figure out what I'm comfortable with."
"And what I'm comfortable with doesn't matter, of course."
"You're getting with the program," Shego told her.
Shego packed a few items, then announced, "Need to change." She stripped off the distinctive black-and-green outfit and donned a white garment.
"You look like a hospital orderly," a puzzled Monique commented.
"Perfect."
"And you have the body of a model."
"Yeah, I'm perfect... So, you enjoy watching?"
"N-no," the dark girl stammered, "I... I work at a clothing–"
"Oh yeah, Club Banana. Lie to your mom about where you're going often?"
"No, Ron called and... I have to look at people changing all day long. Lots of times they ask about... I wasn't watching!"
"'Cause it's okay if you were... Oh, your promise to do anything does not give anyone access to your body. Good sex is consensual. Rape is as nasty as crime gets - worse than murder in my opinion. Now, if at some point you decide you're interested, just whistle. You know how to whistle, don't you?"
"I don't whistle!" Monique assured her in a panicked voice. "I don't whistle!"
"And I told you, I will respect that," Shego told her calmly. "Look, working for Doctor D is a lot like babysitting a six-year old. I don't get a lot of 'me' time, and I get horny. But I respect everyone's right to his or her own body. But, like I said, I get–"
"I, ah, really don't need to hear this."
"You work retail?" Monique nodded. "So you know the value of advertising. I'm going to be staying at your place for who knows how long. Maybe you know someone you can hook me up with. Hell, I'm so horny if Pumpkin wanted to hop in the sack with me I'd probably do it. We might try to kill each other afterward..." Shego grinned, "Might be fun. Cheerleader and I are so competitive we'd probably leave each other too exhausted to fight. Point is, you find some nice guy or gal to set me up with while you're my hostage and I'll let you choose your own nickname for me to use."
Drakken offered to put the ankle bracelets on the women, but Shego turned him down and fastened her own, and Monique prepared to wear the other, "No bomb, right?"
"No bomb," Drakken sulked, "just a GPS so we can check on where you are... Oh, and it signals if you remove it."
Shego complimented him with, "Good job."
Monique called Kim before they left the lair.
"Wha?" Kim weakly croaked.
"Kim, bad news. Ron and I tried to stop Drakken and Shego. We were captured–"
"Free now?"
"No. I mean, they freed Ron and Rufus, I'm a hostage."
"I'll–"
"You'll stay in bed," Monique told her. "They're letting me come back to Middleton, but I gave them word of honor I'm their captive. I think I have to come back later. This has to be a trick to make you do something while you're so weak. Anyway, I'll give the phone to Shego. She'll tell you the rules."
"Shego? Wha–"
Shego took the phone and addressed the invalid in cheerful voice. "Sorry to hear you're sick. Hey, don't like pulling the wings off flies, but didn't need clowns interrupting Doctor D's new plans, and no zoo would take the three of them. I just turned Ron and Rufus loose, didn't even put tracking tags in their ears. They'll probably be in Middleton soon. We planned to keep Ebony here as hostage, but family emergency came up for her, and since I'm such a softy I offered her a deal; she agreed to keep the hostage status while she's on parole. She and I are wearing ankle bracelets. Want to guess which one of us doesn't have a bomb in hers? Anyway, I'm crashing at her place during her family emergency. As long as she stays within ten miles of me she's fine. I get a call from Blue Boy that you're in the lair and I come back to help him. Maybe Monique isn't interested in dancing on two legs. But your friend made me promise I won't start a fight with you. I keep my promises. You start a fight with me and I clean your clock. That clear?"
"Tha's crazy," Kim responded weakly.
"Get your sleep, Cupcake. I'll let Monique give you a call when we get to Middleton."
Kim stared at the phone in her hand. Were the medications causing her to hallucinate or the pain from the mono? She wondered about it briefly before drifting back to troubled sleep.
The elevator took the women down to the garage. "What is that?" Monique asked when Shego pointed her at a sleek black and green vehicle.
"Custom body from Motor Ed. Police can't identify the make, or the plate. Plate's Eastern European. If police don't know what it is they may not call it in – too much work. Get in."
When she hit the highway Shego threw a switch, green and white lights started flashing, and Shego put the hammer down.
Monique barely managed to keep from screaming with fear before asking, "What are you doing?"
"Told Ron I'd beat him back to Middleton."
"This is... The police will..."
"Don't talk, need to focus on driving."
The sound of a siren came to them. Monique wasn't sure if she should feel relief or fear. It would be a relief if Shego were arrested, but fear knotted her stomach that the green woman might attempt to outrun the cruiser.
Shego pulled over, leaned out the window and frantically gestured for the officer to approach. "You idiot! Didn't you get the call?" she shouted in an angry tone.
"What are you talking about?"
"Hurry! Didn't you get the message?" As the officer reached the vehicle she pointed at the back seat. Monique had paid no attention to the back seat. A cooler, hooked up to a refrigerator unit, and covered with stickers proclaiming 'transplant organs' filled the space. "The dispatcher was supposed to alert every law enforcement agency on the way to Middleton! Two patients are getting prepped for this. I got to move stat!"
"I didn't–"
"New dispatcher. Fucking moron. Got the call wrong. Not your fault."
"Want a police escort?"
"Thanks, I– No, can you call ahead and alert highway patrol and police I'm coming through?"
"Sure. Sorry I–"
"Not your fault. I gotta go."
The officer stepped into the highway and directed oncoming traffic into the left lane so Shego could pull onto the highway. "Thanks," she called out as her green and white flashers went on and she accelerated away.
A couple miles down the road Monique admitted, "If you weren't evil that might have been funny."
"You can't be evil and funny?"
