Hey everybody. Yes I know. you're probably mad that I ended my original story 'Honey Pot'. Well, here's the sequel I promised. Don't worry, as I promised it will start where my old story left off.
I can also promise you that this story not only will not be the same as before. I don't do rehashes. While it is different, I guarantee you it'll be even better!
There is some bad news though… I really wanted this to be completed by the 4th of july, but I couldn't write it up in time. So this chapter is without the lemon. Good news is that i'm also making a side-story where i'm putting all the lemons. From the first chapter in honey pot to here.
Working title: Honey lemons.
I'll be uploading one chapter of honey lemons about once a week.
I own nothing. Enjoy.
Vinegar Rinse
Chapter 1: Pilot
"Never again. I swear, never again."
Monique grumbled as she drove her family sedan up a cracked driveway to a two story yellow home, parking on the left side of the garage. As Monique shut off the car and unlatched the seat belt, she looked at her backseat through her rear view mirror and saw a pair of red and green clad gremlins screeching their lungs out as they clawed each other to pieces.
Really, they were Kim's little brothers. Monique could never quite remember their names, even though she'd been told several times. Even if she did, it was really hard to tell them apart, as they were identical twins who intentionally tried to screw around with people whenever they had the chance. Occasionally even using their own made up words. The only thing that really set them apart was the fact they wore different colored jackets. One red. One green.
Also instead of screeching and clawing at each other they were laughing themselves silly as they jabbed each other with electric shock pens. But to the replacement side-kick, on the short drive from their house to here, it really did feel she had a couple of little monsters in her back seat who existed only to annoy the hell out of everyone, instead of a couple of bored twelve year olds.
"Okay, you two," Monique sighed, stepping out of her car. "We're here."
"Finally." The red one whined, shocking his brother one last time before hopping out of the car and closing the door in the green one's face, thus winning the game. "Did you get lost or something? Why'd it take so long?"
"Yeah", the green one agreed, hopping out beside his brother before poking the back of the red one's neck with the pen, giggling at the shocked twin. "Our pens barely have a charge anymore."
Monique could only roll her eyes at the annoying kids as she walked up to the front door. The twins followed her, shocking each other all the while. Monique was sure that the two were complaining about how long the walk was, just like the five minute car ride from their home. Making it to the front porch, Monique went to open the door, only to find it locked. Shrugging, she kicked over the 'Hello Kitty' welcome mat, but there was no spare key to be found.
This was strange. The legal owners to the house were on a month long vacation, but even when they were home they were usually gone, either at work or just out. The spare key usually under the mat was actually their son's, who Monique was friends with. Anyone who knew Ron Stoppable would understand why he keeps his house keys hidden at home instead of on his person. But for both the front door to be locked and the spare key to be missing... couldn't be good.
Monique was not being paranoid. Ron Stoppable was the side-kick to the local globe-trotting super hero Kim Possible, whose little brothers were behind Monique at that moment. Years ago, when Kim was no older than her brothers were now, the future hero set up her own website to get her babysitting business rolling. This was when social networking was just starting up. Kim's site first official customer was none other than some rich collector who managed to trap himself in his own security system, and could barely manage to touch his laptop. Through a typo he managed to stumble onto Kim's website. How the rich collector didn't catch on that the website he was asking help from was about a little girl's babysitting company, Monique couldn't tell you.
Regardless, that opened the floodgates for Kim and Ron, who had followed her to the collector's manor and somehow gotten Kim through the locked gate. The two would go on from bigger and higher profile cases to eventually fighting super villains from across the globe, relying on people they had helped previously for transport. They even gained a hairless rodent and a genius shut-in as their mascot and tech guy along the way.
Why any of this was relevant was that about a month ago, Ron Stoppable, 'a casual culinary hobbyist', had received a huge cashier's check from a large fast food joint he allowed to sell one of his recipes. During the resulting crazy shopping spree, Ron was kidnapped by a pair of villains out to steal his money. Obviously they were foiled and Ron was saved, even managing to keep at least half of his fortune. In the time since then, Ron had kept a low profile. Had stopped spending cash by the wheel barrel. Had even tried setting up his own cooking class at the school. Looking back, this all seemed like rather strange behavior from the straight C side-kick savant.
Monique would have to look into that later. At the moment, all she knew was that if the spare key was missing from under its hidey-hole, either Ron had been kidnapped again, or he was in his house and still had the key. Taking a chance on the latter, Monique looked at her phone, but there was still no reply from the text she had sent the blonde side-kick. Taking another chance on the former, Monique knocked on the door, but got no response.
"Well kids, we tried. Ron's not home." Monique shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant to hide her worry about the millionaire's possible kidnapping again from the twins. "I'll see if Wade can track him down."
"What're you talking about?" The green one asked. He and his twin were standing in the middle of the front lawn, the red one pointing to the window on the side of the house. Walking over to them, Monique saw a familiar tuft of blond hair sitting above the blue leather of the couch. "Ron's right there."
"Huh." Getting a better look, she saw that Ron was wearing a worn blue pajama shirt and black pants, staring at the large flat screen with a controller in his hand as he sat on his new couch. Though Monique couldn't see the look on Ron's face, she could see a wild mess inside the house. Tilting her head to the side, and cringing from the pain that brought on, Monique tapped on the window. Ron didn't seem to notice. "Ohhh, this is gonna be a WCONM, isn't it?"
Monique sighed, as she walked back over to the front porch, ignoring the twins' confusion at her acronym. Pulling the Kimmunicator from her pocket and using the touch screen, Monique activated one of the many 'super' apps. The small hand-held turquoise device scanned the doorknob before a tiny key slid out from the bottom and unlocked the door.
Monique walked in and gained instant respect for repair crews after hurricanes, because the Stoppable home looked like one had crashed through it. All the furniture aside from the couch was knocked over, cushions tossed everywhere. Everything that was on the walls, from shelves to framed pictures, had been knocked down. It wasn't just the look, but also the smell. Monique couldn't put her finger on it, neither where nor what it was, only that it was horrible and everywhere. To complete the scene was the sound of constant moaning, groaning, and squishy explosions. Though that last bit was from the TV.
Ron himself was wearing his shirt unbuttoned, showing his sunburned pink torso to the world. His black sweat pants had a number of taco sauce stains on them, and his face had at best a blank look. The only clear sign that he was alive was his thumbs moving on the controller in his hands. Ron sat with bags under his sleep deprived eyes, intently staring at the screen as zombie after zombie was decapitated or blasted.
Monique had first met Ron Stoppable a few years ago, days after she had met Kim. Ron was a lanky pale blonde with cute freckles, puppy dog brown eyes, and a bit larger than average ears. If he dyed his hair, Ron could probably be cast in the next Spider-Man movie, no problem. While that might sound endearing, it really wasn't. Ron had a bad habit of ending up in embarrassing situations (usually involving his pants), a number of odd obsessions, and an underachiever's attitude that had him proudly refusing to put more than the bare minimum of effort into anything he did.
With that said, Ron was a nice guy who willingly and routinely risked his life going along on dangerous missions with Kim to fight super villains and help total strangers. His odd obsessions and embarrassing situations aside, Ron did know how to have fun and a good time, at least in Monique's experience. Their shared love for pro-wrestling was an example. Hell, the first time Monique met Ron was at a pro-wrestling match, where a manager had gained some kind of magic artifact and lost his mind. He'd transformed into a muscle-bound dog-faced demigod, calling himself 'the Jackal', and started attacking everyone. Monique had never heard the story behind that.
Monique would have to ask about that later. Her back was killing her and her legs felt like wet noodles... and she still had work in about an hour. Clearly something was wrong with Ron, and Kim was... indisposed. Which left Monique to be the one to figure out what had happened.
"Uhhh, Ron? What happened?" Monique asked. Ron ignored her. "What tore up the place?"
Every kind of alarm went off inside of Monique's head. Normally the goofball of a side-kick couldn't keep his mouth shut, and now he was a statue? Tilting her head once again, feeling the muscles in her shoulders cramp up, Monique remembered the events of the previous night. Well, after the mission anyway. Was there a mission? Monique asked herself. She had to admit, she was so tired that it was all starting to blend together - the constant sprinting, the yelling, the pressing of buttons and pulling of wires, all the while trying to outrun flabby henchmen, clunky robots, energy blasts, or just falling debris. Monique couldn't remember anymore; all she wanted to do was sleep.
What Monique did remember were the parts relating to the school, Kim, and the Middleton Days event. Middleton Days was the annual festival the town held, celebrating local companies. It was mostly a carnival that lasted a few days, with a parade at the end. The parade featured floats made by the local high school, each one showing off a part of the town's history or a local business.
Since it was the last day before the festival, and the dance therein, Kim was the most dressed up Monique had ever seen her outside of specific missions. Which Monique had helped her with, both picking out the specific outfit and helping the heroine with her hair and makeup. All the work put into it, along with Kim's natural good looks, had made the heroine look downright stunning. All to try and get at least one boy's attention for the event. Which Kim, the global super hero, had always struggled with. Though, looking back, it was hardly a surprise. Maybe it had something to do with them seeing her jump kick costumed crazies out of windows on the news, how the town's people practically worshiped her, or how Kim constantly browbeat her way into leading anything she was part of.
Monique Ramsey could honestly say that she was Kim Possible's best friend, with the heroine's oldest friend Ron being her only competition, and Monique could understand why most people didn't approach Kim in her personal life. Even before Monique became her side-kick, she was constantly confused and put off by Kim's hero work washing into her civilian life. After Monique put on the cargo pants and black turtleneck, and after a good amount of the time in the new job, it just didn't seem real. Although, the lack of sleep and numerous explosions in both Kim's hero and home life certainly didn't help.
All of this took Monique back to how, the day before the festival started, Mr. Barkin, the jack-of-all substitute teachers, who had been bizarrely mauled by a raccoon the day of Ron's first cooking class, had sent Kim over to help convince Ron to aid him in his lawsuit against the school for said event. Kim had been her normal self that morning, concerned about getting her homework done and a little nervous about someone asking her out. When she came back from Ron's house she was completely different. The heroine was giggling and humming to herself throughout the day, a huge smile on her face all the while. Monique would admit, she was confused and a bit weirded out by it. Until Kim told her what happened.
Monique was glad that her friend stopped waiting and more than a little proud that she had done the asking, and especially happy that that it had been Ron. The two had an undeniable chemistry between them that any and everyone could see, in either their personal or hero lives. As someone who'd seen both, Monique could tell you that their synergy worked even better on the job, fighting villains. While Monique hadn't talked to them at the Middleton Days carnival outside the school, she had seen them.
Ron was in his usual hockey jersey and jeans. From what Monique could see he was nervous, his face blushed and his movements stiff. Monique had to admit, it was adorable. Kim herself was wearing an absolutely stunning black dress, which Monique was sure wasn't wearing anything under, and was all but hanging off him the whole time. The substitute side-kick was baffled by the sight, but they looked happy, and the people around looked happy for them.
Now though? That morning, when Monique came to ask about the night before, Kim wouldn't leave her room and dumped her brothers on her. Meanwhile, Ron was a stone-eyed statue who looked more dead than the zombies he was killing on screen. All of these were signs that something horrible happened.
"Ron," Monique asked, gently. "Does... this have something to do with your date with Kim last night?"
"Guhhh," Ron finally grumbled. "...go away."
"Oookay, this is officially in wrong-sick territory." Monique shook her head, putting her hand on her hip. "What happened, stringbean?"
"Hey! You heard him," The red twin said, walking past Monique as he took off his backpack. "He doesn't want to talk to you, scab."
"Scab?"
"Now Ron, as fellow inventors do we have an opportunity for you." the green one said in an enthusiastic tone as he flipped the coffee table back up. Both twins then pulled out several colorful and crude looking gadgets. All appeared to be constructed from homemade materials and wouldn't look out of place in the classic sci-fi shows that Monique had seen Kim's father watching from time to time. This troubled the replacement side-kick, not least of which because a few of the gizmos were shaped like guns, toy looking or not.
Now everyone in the Possible family was known for their brains, the twins being no exception. While the rest of the family used their intelligence to help other people in their own ways, the twins used their intelligence exactly how you'd expect kids to. Crafting devices meant for entertainment that more often than not just exploded from malfunctions and lit everything on fire.
Monique couldn't tell you how many times she'd seen the local fire department rush over to flood the entire block that the Possible family lived on, how many home safety systems the family had gone through, or even how many times the Possible family car had been totaled and towed away for repair. Monique looked back down at the coffee table with the clearly clumsily homemade gadgets laid out. A claw of fear slowly creeped up the replacement side-kick's spine as she realized that she just drove around her neighborhood with the very real possibility of having two backpacks worth of glorified bombs in her car...with children holding them.
"As you well know, Ron ol' buddy, me and my brother are filled to the brim with many awesome ideas." The red one gloated, gesturing to his head before switching to the coffee table. "Following your example, we would like to patent those ideas and we're looking for investors. Now, we've got a few things here that I'm sure you'll love, like-"
"Whatever."
"W-what?" Monique asked, that same claw of fear grasping around her chest. "R-Ron, that might be a bad idea. Like explosively bad."
"W-whatever." Ron burped. "D-don't care."
"Awesome!" The green twin cheered, happily high-fiving his brother. "Oh man, Ron. You, my friend, are not going to regret this."
A muffled groan erupted from the kitchen. Everyone turned and looked over to see none other than Bonnie Rockwaller standing behind the living room pass through counter. Bonnie had her shoulder length brown hair tied back into a ponytail and wore a pair of brown skinny jeans and a princess purple V-neck shirt. Bonnie Rockwaller was a handful of months older than Monique, and was a knockout - one of those girls all the boys assume is too pretty to approach. She had the curves that were denied to Monique at birth, that bit- No no, girl. Don't go there. You're better than that.
Monique had met Bonnie when she first started school at Middleton, a little after she met Kim and Ron. Even on the first day, it was pretty clear to Monique how Bonnie was obviously defined by the bitter envy she had for Kim. Seemingly coming in second to every competition she had with the town hero, and of course taking out that bitterness on Kim along with anyone associated with her by being as unpleasant as possible. Monique was no exception. Neither Monique nor Bonnie ever tried to get along, or get to know each other. The only time the replacement side-kick and wannabe cheer captain even interacted was when they were casually trading sarcastic quips with each other, which was never that much to begin with.
Bonnie Rockwaller being at the Stoppable household was a huge surprise, to say the least. While Bonnie was relentlessly mean to Kim and mostly ignored Monique, she treated Ron as little more than the village idiot. Someone to be made fun of for his buffoonery at any chance... Until Ron gained the royalties check.
Almost instantly, right there in the restaurant, when Ron was handed the check from the cashier, Bonnie latched onto the blonder half of Team Possible like a tick. From what Monique could remember, during Ron's weird shopping sprees, Bonnie would just bat her eyelashes at Ron and he'd giver her anything she wanted. Yeah, everyone was pretty aware of what was going on, even Ron, and that was before Bonnie told him to his face right there in the restaurant.
But why was Bonnie there now, specifically there today? After Ron was kidnapped and half his fortune stolen, Bonnie pretty much abandoned him. Completely ignored him, even more than Monique. Which was strange. Even if Bonnie wanted things to go back to normal, she would have gone back to mocking Ron and Kim every chance she got like she did before. But in the month since Ron regained his money, Bonnie did everything she could to ignore Ron. At the same time, Ron did those projects instead of going with Kim on her missions. Which left Monique to pick up the slack as the new side-kick. Now after a date between the OG members of team Possible that somehow went wrong, the spare key to the Stoppable home was missing, and Bonnie was here hiding in the kitchen...
"What is going on here?" Monique mumbled.
"No. Nah-ah."
Bonnie shook her head as she walked out of the kitchen and stopped right at the opening to the hallway to the rest of the house. She stood there, eyeing both Monique and each of the twins, before she switched to Ron, who was still sitting on the couch, and gave the coldest death glare Monique had ever seen.
"No investments." It would have been dead quiet in the room, had the sound effects of Ron's game not been playing. Ron himself just continued staring at the screen, seemingly oblivious to Bonnie's venomous gaze toward him. "It's not happening."
"Who are you?" The red twin asked, pointing at Bonnie. "You can't make business decisions for Ron."
"Yeah." The green twin nodded. "He already agreed."
"What are you doing here, Bonnie?"
"Okay, you two? Shut it. If you don't, I'll have the private goons Ron hired test those murder machines right there on you minion wannabes as target practice."
Bonnie threatened the twins, completely ignoring Monique. The replacement side-kick didn't really mind though, as even in Ron's current state he'd never let something like that happen to Kim's brothers. Besides, it actually got the twins to back off. While the two tried to keep up their poker faces, they were clearly taken back by Bonnie's threat, or maybe just the glare. The red one even took a step back.
With the twins taken care of, Bonnie turned her cold heart stopping gaze back to the original side-kick still sitting on the couch, who was still shooting away at zombies on his game. As far as anyone could tell, Ron was either completely ignoring everything around him or had forgotten they were there. After a moment or so Bonnie dropped the glare, shaking her head with a sigh before she rubbed the bridge of her nose.
"Ron, we're not done. I ordered a cleaning service to come over on Monday." Bonnie announced, in a soft frustrated tone. "The rest of you, out. Now."
Neither of the twins tried to argue, shoving all the gadgets on the table back into their bag before they scurried out the front door. Monique was a little annoyed by that, as Bonnie managed to get them to do what she wanted without a fuss, when Monique couldn't even get them to sit still in her car. Monique sighed at this, giving Bonnie one last look before following the twins out the door. Standing on the front porch, Monique saw the twins hop back in the back seat of her car and reopen their backpacks, taking a few of their gadgets back out.
"Never again." Monique groaned.
Monique turned to the side as she heard the garage door open up before Bonnie walked out, a remote in her hand as she squinted at Monique's car. Tilting her head to the side, and cringing from the pain that came with it, Monique walked over to the annoyed looking Queen Bee. When she did she got a look at the car in the garage. Monique couldn't tell the specific type, only that it was white, new, and clearly very expensive.
"Move the hobbitmobile." Bonnie said, her voice flat. "You're blocking me."
"Sooo," Monique gave a lop sided frown, gesturing to the car in the garage. "you've gone full gold digger again?"
"Meh," Bonnie shrugged. "That's from before."
"Yeah, just like the ruby belt buckle." Monique pointed to the gem shaped outline under her shirt, just below where the belly button would be. "So what's the latest packa-"
"Ramsay," Bonnie sighed, sheer frustration in her tone with a good helping of exhaustion plainly apparent on her face. As a girl who parachuted out of a helicopter, swam a few miles in freezing water, before climbing up a cliff twice in one week, Monique knew the look. "I cannot handle you right now."
"Okaaayyy, seriously. What is going on?"
"S-some... something happened last night." Bonnie stuttered, taking a deep breath after a short cringe. "I'm just trying to deal with the fallout."
Monique tilted her head again, intrigued, and felt a jolt in her neck as her muscles began to cramp again. Rubbing the spot that hurt to try and relax it, Monique tried to put the pieces together. Going over the clues she'd already collected, Monique also remembered the previous Middleton Days event the year before. Ron had eaten so many corn dogs he'd lost count before going on the Tilt-A-Whirl, with predictable results. Ron Stoppable had a long history of bad habits when nervous that ended with him needing a bucket. It wouldn't be too far out of reason to imagine Ron getting similarly nervous on his date with Kim, especially with that dress she was wearing.
"Let me guess." Monique rolled her eyes. "Ron got all fritzey during his date with Kim and tried beating his record for how many snacks he could cram down at once. Got both of 'em sick. Now it's messing with whatever plans you've got with him. Oh stringbean, when will you learn?"
"O-oh god." Bonnie visibly cringed, closing her eyes as she put a hand over her mouth. Monique just stood there for a moment, looking at the Queen Bee as she held back a couple of gags. The replacement side-kick hadn't meant to cause that. Had Monique really been on the money? She widened her eyes at the implications of that.
"Alright, I-I just don't have time for this. I've got a date with a prince to get ready for."
"W-wait, what?"
"Oh screw it."
Bonnie rolled her eyes back at Monique before she strutted her way to the white car in the garage and simply backed it around Monique's own, right through the Stoppable front yard to the foot of the driveway. The replacement side-kick was left standing there, mouth agape for a few moments before she heard one of the twins honking her car's horn at her.
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
Under the clear bright blue sky was a small archipelago. Private patches of bright white sand stretched in sapphire water, each with a small forest of tropical trees and smaller foliage with little to no sign of civilization nor animals in sight aside from the small guppies in the shallows. A seeming cluster of island paradise after island paradise. Every last one. All but the largest in the center.
Unlike the rest of the islands in the archipelago, the center island was not a canvas of white sand with green tropical trees. Instead, a giant slab of dark crimson stone in the shape of a tower covered most of it, with only a small stretch of the same lifeless rock littering the beach. On top of this looming slab was a square complex tipped with man-made towers.
The outside of said complex was crawling with red body suit wearing construction crews cleaning up the signs of great destruction. As the crews worked, sparks from their welding, grinding, and cutting tools flew off the side and down the slab of rock below them. As broken and charred debris was removed, the holes and chunks of missing infrastructure were being replaced and repaired.
The interior was even worse. What wasn't charred was melted. What wasn't broken was held together with duct tape and gum. What wasn't covered in debris was smeared with ash. As the internal construction crews continued their duty, just trying to attach temporary support beams was a challenge.
All of this supported the image of a battle with an invading army having been fought in this hidden island fortress. But it wasn't. This was all the work of a single super powered titan of a woman.
Toward the south side of the island lair, a stainless steel sliding door's control panel's case was closed by one of the red suited repair technicians. An industrial grade remote control in his hand, the henchman pressed the green button and the sliding doors whooshed open with a slight bit of struggle. Revealing none other than a dark neon green room to the rest of the complex. The green room itself was unlike the rest of the island base, as it was completely intact, but not because it was spared. Every piece of furniture in the room was fresh and clean. Some still had price tags attached, although what wasn't new had a slight coating of ash. Standing in the doorway was none other than super muscle for hire extraordinaire, Shego.
"Ugh, finally. I've been stuck in here all day."
Shego sighed as she walked through the door and into the hall. As she did, Shego tried to ignore the looks from the construction crews. All but those working with sight disrupting equipment stopped or slowed what they were doing to, if not outright turn to look, than at least peek. Even though Shego herself was the reason for the ruined lair and a number of scorched henchmen, she tried to ignore it. The flabby henchmen had stared at her so much and for as long as she'd worked there it was hard to even notice anymore. As she walked by, Shego heard a curse from one of the technicians, before there was a loud clang and another henchmen fell to the floor. Shego didn't bother to look, as it was the fourth to maybe seventh time it had happened that day.
"How did the door break after I got back from the robbery?" Shego asked. "It worked this morning."
The villainess shrugged as she turned another corner and walked through an archway. As she did, the repair technician working above it dropped his soldering tool. Its rubber laced cord wrapped around his leg and pulled the henchmen down on top of it. The henchmen yelped in pain before the ladder he was on tipped over and dropped on him. Shego rolled her eyes as she pulled the door to the archway shut and continued her way, wondering if the henchmen were recruited from a clown college repair crew improv skit.
Halfway down the debris filled hall, Shego stopped and pressed her hand against the wall. The spot she pressed retracted into the structure and opened a secret door in the seemingly solid sandstone. This secret compartment was a small room, specifically a laboratory. This particular lab was one of the few rooms in the complex to be completely unharmed and clear of either damage or debris. Inside were several large machines off to the sides. Shego didn't know or care about their purpose, though they appeared to be covered with special tools. Hanging from the walls were several robotic limbs and body parts, all in vaguely human shape, but disassembled.
In the middle was none other than a specialized gray work bench. As the sight of the work bench was being blocked by a wannabe world conquering blue vibrator with a mouth, or Shego's 'boss', Dr. Drakken, Shego couldn't make out any specifics on what was on it, only that it was light blue and had vaguely human shaped body parts.
"I really hope you're reprogramming those repair bots I stole this morning." Shego sighed, shaking off the rocky chalk-like dust from her hair as the secret door closed itself. "Because I'm not sure the henchmen are 'helping' out there.''
"Sh-Shego!" Drakken stammered as he turned around, pulling a blanket behind him. But instead of covering his project, the blanket simply slid off the work bench entirely and onto the floor. The blue mad scientist stood there silently for a moment before sighing, and crouched over with a pouty scowl. "Oh forget it. When did you figure it out?"
"Come on doc." Shego smirked at the flustered embarrassed look on Drakken's face as he folded his arms at her. "Its a mad scientist's lair on an uncharted island. Of course there's gonna be secret labs. This one's about your 'real-bots'."
"I do not build sex bo- Oh, like 'real-doll'. Clever."
"Thank you."
Shego nodded, leaning against the secret wall door behind her. Drakken now out of the way enough, Shego looked at they gray workbench again. Dr. Drakken, or Drew Lipskey, was originally just a more disturbed than average nerdling among countless others that went to high class colleges. But what separated Drakken from his fellow dungeon masturbaters who got involved in the super villain game, was that Drakken became disfigured after he was already in the mad doctor's coat. Instead, his reason was because of what was laying on the gray slab.
The model Drakken was currently working on looked very similar to the previous one: Light blue painted face, black painted torso, red eyes and lips, along with long blond hair. The only difference Shego could see was that it was missing its blue limbs and had its chest cabinet open, revealing nothing but a series of wires and machinery in a girl's frame.
"Do the henchmen know about this?"
"Not this exactly," Shego pointed at the workbench, walking closer to get a better look. "but since you're a mad scientist with a history of robot girls and cloning cheerleaders- oh, and how they're all a bunch of guys on an uncharted island, you can guess what they hope you're making.''
"I'm a super villain for crying out loud." Drakken rolled his eyes. "I build devices of doom, death, and domination. World conquest only."
"Didn't you try to make a teenager embarrass herself to death?" Shego raised an eyebrow at him. "Honestly, making real dolls would probably be a step up. So, why bother trying to hide this?"
"Gahhh." Drakken grimaced, clearly embarrassed by the memory. "The super villain community is very competitive."
"Aren't you the one famous for stealing?"
"I'm not going to debate the importance of security, Shego."
"We're squatting in something that looks like melted Swiss cheese instead of the timeshare lair because...?" Shego asked, gesturing around the lab.
"Because I'm not made of money." Drakken scowled. "Besides, do you really want to leave those red buffoons working here alone?
Instead of her usual response of rolling her eyes at Drakken's reasoning, Shego gave a reluctant side-nod. Just walking from her room to the secret lab was a good argument for the latter. For the former, because instead of the usual self-destruction or collapse caused by Kim Possible, the state of the lair was caused by both of them.
On their latest smash and grab theft of some super gizmo from yet another delusional scientist in his personal mountain bunker, something had gone wrong during the usual fight with Kim when she and her team showed up. Drakken grabbed what he thought was his target but was really the control tablet for the scientist's side project. The device the tablet controlled somehow attached itself to Shego's neck, hidden under her long dark mane.
For some stupid reason Shego was sure she didn't want to know, the device was designed to control a target's emotions through the tablet. Luckily for the villain team, especially the non-super powered mad scientist, they had both parts to the device and were able to put the pieces of the mystery together quickly. But between the short time of discovering the problem and the longer period of finding the solution, the device fiddled with the villainess's emotions, with the side effect of decreasing the stability of her powers, or at least Shego's control of them.
In the days it took for Drakken to do quick repairs on the crumbling charred lair and pick apart the control tablet, the villainess's powers and emotions became harder and harder to control. Until an impatient Shego, against Drakken's repeated protests, had simply pulled the infernal device off the back of her neck, instantly becoming free of its effects.
Throughout the entire ordeal, the only real perk was that since the device increased her sensitivity to everything, when it was on the 'love' setting, the villainous mercenary had the best sex she could remember.
"Well let me tell ya, as the only hot bun in an island sausage fest, I wouldn't be against you making those robo-real dolls. The henchmen would love'em. You don't even have to change much. Just make sure the hands and mouths work." Shego joked as she pushed the robot girl's metal mouth open and tried not to laugh at Drakken's cringe. "Blue blondes over blue balls."
"Please stop." Drakken demanded, closing the mechanical girl's mouth shut with a clang. But, of course, the mad scientist shut it too hard and a snapping sound erupted from the robot's mouth before it fell open again. The flustered, frustrated, and embarrassed Drakken tried a few more attempts at shutting its mouth. Each time the the robot girl's jaw slid open lower and lower until it fell right off and onto the ground. Drakken picked up the robotic jaw from the floor before tossing it out of sight in a huff. "Is there a reason you're here?"
"Bored." Shego answered. "This is always a good way to kill time."
Of course, Shego wasn't talking about Drakken working on his latest 'doomsday device', but watching Drakken testing them out. Much, much more often than not they either exploded on the spot, instantly turned on their creator, or simply caused random destruction rather than working correctly. Shego's favorite was when Drakken created a gaggle of 'desctructo bots', where almost immediately off the assembly line the army of murder machines had started attacking each other and themselves like a horde of headless chickens with plasma rays and death claws.
"So what's the latest creepy reason you're working on these today?" Shego asked. "If you wanna find out where you went wrong, I'd start with when you tried to make a girlfriend out of a glorified vacuum cleaner with a scribbled on smiley face and a wig. Or after that, when you actually showed it to people."
"Irregardless of how this started Shego," Drakken snapped, "This project has serious potential, as tools to help me conquer the world, prove my genius, and show my ability to create robot girlfriends once and for all."
"Potential? These feminators are missing the only reason anyone would want a robot girlfriend. Doctor D. I saw the last model. They look like blue mannequins, sound like a knockoff GPS, and feel like-" Shego tapped against the cold hard metal of the robot girl's crotch, the ding echoing through the small laboratory. "Dead steel. I take it back. You'd probably scare the crap out of the henchmen than motivate 'em."
"Zip it, Shego." Drakken clasped his fingers shut at her. "World conqueror here. Not robo-pimp. So for the last time, I'm not making a sex bot."
"Well... could you?" A motionless silence overtook the room. Shego looked away, biting her lip as Drakken stared at her blankly. "Doctor D."
"What are you getting at Shego?"
"Hypothetically," Shego asked, almost nervously playing with her hair. "you could make robo-real dolls. Maybe fireproof, male, kinda on the buff side. So a certain someone could use it. Maybe even toss in a plasma retardant room or bunker or something to use it in."
"Huh," Drakken raised the left side of his uni-brow, intrigued. "You just gave me a great idea."
"No way in hell it was the one I was going for."
"An infiltration droid!" Drakken cheered. "It could insert itself into Kim Possible's personal life, gather information, and distract if not totally destro-"
"Yeah sure, whatever." Shego rolled her eyes, pinching the mad scientists lips together. "You'll still make'em fireproof right?"
"Mgh." Drakken mumbled as he slapped Shego's hand away. "That does sound like an excellent feature. Though it'll take time."
"Ugh." Shego shrugged. "Drewby, you're so thick you could take a nuke to the face."
"Yes, now if you'll let me get to wor- did you just call me 'Drewby'?
"But I have needs and you're doing it anyway."
Shego smiled hungrily- happily as she grabbed the sides of the confused Drakken's face and pulled him in for a kiss. The kiss quickly deepened between the two villains with the stunned Drakken quickly melting into it, wrapping his hands around her waist before pulling away.
"Shego, the lair is barely holding together as it is."
"Yeah, well..." Shego smirked back, jokingly looking at the fully intact secret lab. "Here looks fine. Besides, I'd probably do less damage in here than out there. You've seen me right?"
XXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Finally."
Monique groaned as she walked through the revolving door. Making it to the sidewalk, it took all of Monique's will power just to keep standing on her feet. Every bit of the replacement side-kick's body was screaming at her. All of the muscles Monique could think of and the rest she couldn't were throbbing and hurt to so much as to move. Monique couldn't say how many cups of coffee she drank near the end of her shift to keep the sandman at bay, and even with that Monique still needed to fold shirt after shirt to stay moving and keep her eyes open.
Monique longed for the days where she would enjoy how boring her job was. Where she could just play on her phone, read a book, or just finish her homework in the last hours of her shift. Instead of now, where she couldn't focus her eyes enough to read now matter how large the font, or the brain power to make fours out of twos. Just doing mindless movement to keep herself from falling over in the slow end of her work day.
Her head spinning and her eyelids growing heavier by the second, Monique looked over at the emptying parking lot in front of her. It was well after dark, with all but the usual last minute shoppers having left a good bit ago. The only cars left in the lot were the ones owned by the workers and employees that had just checked their punch cards. Monique being one of them, the rest rapidly leaving. Spotting her family car alone under a street lamp, Monique turned back around and saw the fading internal lights of the Middleton Center mall finally shut down to near total darkness.
"Long day?" A chipper voice asked.
Looking over, Monique saw none other than Felix Renton coming out the side entrance next to the revolving door. Felix was wearing a bright purple Grape staff shirt, just like Monique's own club banana. He had a thin build, light brown hair, bright blue eyes and a general happy demeanor. Felix first moved to town about a year or so after Monique did, his mother had gotten employment at some high end tech job where Kim's dad worked no less. Out of the small group that team Possible was friends with, Felix was more Ron's friend, just like Monique was to Kim. Monique didn't really know the guy that well, other than he could beat the original side-kick in most contests they had. Which wasn't that different than Kim's relationship with Bonnie, though in the boys case they were friends and good sports about it.
"You were just staring off into space for a minute." Felix smiled, coming down the safety ramp and over to Monique on the sidewalk. "Had me worried there."
"I just need sleep." Monique yawned as she grabbed the neck of her yellow club banana staff T-shirt and slid it off over her head, leaving the replacement side-kick in her favorite red V-neck she was wearing under it. Monique felt herself wince from the pain that caused her more than she heard it. Sliding the shirt into her left pants pocket as she took a deep breath. "A-a lot of sleep... and maybe a sandwich. I'm kinda hungry."
"H-huh, what?" Felix asked, shaking his head as he looked back up to Monique. "Oh, uh, what happened?"
"I'm just a little sore from the last few missions with Kim." Monique answered, rubbing her neck as it starting cramping again. "The last one was a few days ago, and I still feel like I got pulled out of my own grave."
"Oh yeah, I heard about that." Felix nodded. "I went on one with Kim and Ron not too long ago. It can wear you out pretty bad if you're not used to it."
Monique looked down at Felix when he said that, trying not to let her surprise show. There was no polite way to say it, Felix was paralyzed from the waist down and confined to a wheelchair. Even on the laziest missions you had to outrun the villains, or at least their goons. So when Felix mentioned he went on a mission, Monique was more than a little caught off guard that Kim would have allowed that, given how squeamish and awkwardly protective she was around him.
But as she thought about it, Monique remembered the times she'd seen Felix and Ron doing their little contests, specifically the basketball ones. While he usually didn't need it, Monique had seen how the wheels of Felix's motorized chair flipped up like drone propellers allowing him to hover and fly, along with a mechanical claw that came out the back that he could control. It made sense, Felix's mother must've specialized in that kind of equipment. Monique could see Mrs. Renton giving her son that kind of Tech, for protection and aid if nothing else, especially in a city like Middleton. So if Felix went on a mission with Kim, Monique could only guess it involved his chair.
"Oh yeah. I heard about that." Monique repeated back, remembering how the main street of the city was torn up and the local news talking about it. "Drak and the mullet dude stole your chair and did something to a pick-up truck with it."
"Meh." Felix shrugged. "Monster truck, same thing."
"Felix," Monique asked, looking down at him. His usual shiny motorized seat he usually had was gone, and Felix's current wheelchair was a regular one you'd find at a super store or a hospital. It wasn't even motorized. "is that why you're not in using your Grape smartchair?"
"Sort of." Felix answered, his voice a little sour before he barked out a laugh. "Good one. I'm kinda going through some stuff cuz of 'mullet dude'."
"Soooo, you wanna talk about it?"
"Only if you wanna talk about whatever you're going through being Kim's side-kick." A silent moment passed by between the two. Felix looked up at Monique with a lopsided smile. Monique returned it. "Sooooo-"
"I just noticed." Monique bent over, ignoring her body's silent cries of pain, and felt up Felix's right bicep. "You're really getting some muscle since you got the new chair. Getting around without a joystick might be good for ya."
"Ha." Felix laughed. "Looks like you're gaining some muscle too."
"Thanks." Monique could feel her cheeks heating up a bit as Felix gestured up and down her body. Walking over to her car, Monique shrugged. "On just the running alone, I'm kinda surprised that chilly pepper and stringbean don't bulk up."
"Well," Felix shrugged back. "Ron can eat his own weight in melted cheese."
"Don't remind me." Monique would have cringed if she wasn't so tired, the image of Ron eating slice after slice of the cardboard pizza from school still fresh in her mind. "But Ron did recommend eating a lot of that. I'm not sure though."
"Just the fact that Ron's done all this in one piece must mean something." Felix tilted his head. "Didn't Kim have any pointers?"
"Ugh." Monique groaned as they made it to her car, her voice more bitter than she intended. "We're talk'n about a girl who's motto is how she can do anything. I've personally seen her do a back flip over a charging robot like it was nothing. I wonder if she's even human sometimes."
"Thanks for the ride." Felix said, tapping his chair's right wheel. "Before I could just fly to work, but now..."
"Its cool, taking the bus is a pain in the ass for anybody." Monique joked, unlocking the car with the remote on her keys as Felix laughed. As they both headed for the passenger door all the light poles in the parking lot suddenly flickered out, leaving the two in total darkness. "No way that's a power outage. Not in this town."
"Of all the times I don't have my chair."
Monique grumbled a curse while she pushed Felix to the passenger door, as she did something audibly slammed hard against the hood of the car. Monique ignored it as she tried opening the door, only to instantly feel lightning jolt clear through her hand and into her arm as she touched the car's metal frame. Cursing again from the pain, her hand now completely numb, Monique heard another loud ding to her side not too far away from her fallowed by loud hissing. While it was too dark in the parking lot to see distinctly what this new hissing object was, Monique had seen enough movies to know what a gas bomb sounded like and knew she had to leave and fast.
With only one arm listening to her, the replacement side-kick pushed the back of Felix's chair best she could, but there was a problem. Monique had never been that fast to begin with, and with her exhausted body the best the replacement side-kick could do was a light jog, even if she didn't have the extra weight of another person. With how quick they were going, Monique wouldn't have been surprised that if she had just hopped on Felix's lap and had him roll them away, they'd probably go faster.
It didn't much matter though, because before they even made it more than a few feet another audible clang could be heard from the chair's right wheel, though Monique didn't feel it hit. Monique's one useful hand was shielded by the rubber encrusted handle, but she heard Felix wince in pain, probably from the same shocking device that disabled her car. Monique could only guess that it was, as the wheelchair was now completely immobile and refused to so much as budge.
Monique held back another curse of frustration as she hooked Felix's now limp arm around her shoulder with her one good hand and tried the best she could to carry him away, but it was too much. The sheer exhaustion of her body, the lack of sleep, and whatever gas the canister was releasing was clearly affecting her. When Monique tried to lift Felix, his added weight was all it took for the replacement side-kick's body to simply give up with both of them collapsing on the ground, Monique was on the bottom with Felix awkwardly slumped on top of her. His face landing right on her chest.
Her eyes now having adjusted somewhat to the darkness, Monique looked down and while she couldn't see the whites of Felix's eyes, she could make out the general expression on his face. He was angry. No, more than that. Felix Renton was seething with rage. A look of pure frustrated violent intent as he stared off into the darkness of the parking lot, his body completely limp atop the replacement side-kick.
Monique felt the exact opposite of that. Monique Ramsay, the current side-kick to a beloved and admired globetrotting hero, was utterly and completely terrified for her life. It was a familiar fear. Not one she'd felt her whole life. No, but it was one she'd learned years ago. Monique remembered when she first felt it. The first year she moved to Middleton at a Halloween party. For some reason a special armor erupted out of Kim's princess costume with shoulder mounted laser cannons pointed directly at Monique in her cowboy costume, her pistols being just for show... or at least that's how Monique remembered it. It was another of Kim's adventures that Monique never asked about. Another of Kim's adventures that Monique didn't want to ask about.
The same fear cropped up from time to time since then. When Kim's hero work bled back into Middleton. When the villains quite literally crashed into Monique's life with their costumed craziness for one ridiculous reason after another. But that was fine. Sure it was scary and there was lots of property damage, but nobody got hurt and it only happened sometimes. At least that's what Monique told herself whenever it happened as she crouched under the nearest sturdy thing she could find and hid until it was over.
All of that changed when Kim had asked Monique to help her on a mission as her side-kick. Monique had tried to slide out of it. At first politely and then with excuses, but Monique just couldn't say no. Not to the town hero. Not to the girl who had saved her life a number of times before. Especially not to her best friend who clearly needed help. All the while, Monique felt her heartbeat slowly grow faster and faster, grow louder and louder until that's all Monique could hear. Where by the end, Monique simply smiled and nodded at whatever Kim had been saying until the hero grabbed her new side-kick's hand and pulled her along. Monique hadn't even asked about Ron.
Monique had managed to control her fear on the transport, telling herself that it was only a one time thing and that the mission would be easy, as she had Kim with her. Telling herself how Ron, with all his buffoonery and eccentrics, had done it easily. It wasn't easy. At least not for Monique. Monique had never been athletic. She'd never been part of any team at the school. The only exercise she did was at gym class. So when they finally made it to the mission area, Monique was completely unprepared for it.
Monique couldn't keep up with Kim or the villains. She could barely stay one step ahead of the henchmen, who barely seemed motivated enough to raise the alarm and chase after her. In fact, the only thing that kept her one step ahead, or even alive was that same fear was what kept Monique moving. In the end, Monique had done little more than keep the henchmen distracted as Kim had somehow tricked the villains into defeating themselves.
When they finally gotten back to the transport, Monique wasn't upset that all her effort and fear had contributed next to nothing. Monique wasn't upset that she could barely hear anything from all the explosions. Monique hadn't even been that upset that if the villain succeeded it would have been the end of all life as she knew it. Nope, Monique had not been upset. As she was so tired and hungry that Monique instantly fell flat on her face asleep the moment they were back on the plane.
The second time Kim had asked Monique to come along as her side-kick again, she had been desperate to say no, but like before, found that she just couldn't. But unlike before, on the ride to her second mission Monique couldn't control her fear. Outright using the toilet the entire time because she couldn't keep anything down from the nerves. Though the ride back was the same. A sleep coma. The only good thing about the sheer exhaustion was that Monique was too tired to scare herself half to death to the mission, during the mission, and back from the mission.
It was kind of ironic. Monique was more terrified now than she had ever been on any of those missions. Because now in the present, instead of thousands of miles away across the globe, fighting super villains for god knows why, her larger than life best friend leading the way. Monique was back home. She had just gotten off work. She was taking her handicapped friend back to his family.
Monique was trapped in the dark, inhaling mysterious gas, and dangerous people who wanted her were closing in. Her paralyzed friend was on top of her and both of them were completely helpless. Tears of fear fell down her face from sheer terror for her life, Monique closed her eyes as she wrapped her good arm around Felix and waited for the end to come.