"Outatime"
By Eoraptor
Rated T for Teen, all characters property The Walt Disney Company
Shego made a face at the way her fingers stuck to the steering wheel. Hard and vinyl and coated with years of… something. But, it was a nineties Toyota, brown, nondescript… unlikely to draw nearly as much attention as the hoverpod or her F430 in Appletini Green.
And it had enough trunk space to store the thing that the doc had sent her after. A…
"Quantum mass temporal disentanglement matrix." She read off the memo hastily scribbled on the post-it stuck to the steering wheel. "I swear to Goddess in Heaven, do they just pick words out of a dictionary?"
Whatever it was, it was a plumbing nightmare; a glass jar of neon purple goo attached with pipes and electrical conduits plumbed to a big block of machined aluminum with switches and one of those little flat screens they were starting to put on the phones. On one end of the metal body were a few big copper connectors inside a rubber gasket, so this thing obviously was meant to be plugged in to something with a hell of an electrical kick. A couple of angry looking red switches nearby too.
She rolled her eyes as she picked her way down the suburban streets of Middleton CO. At least it wouldn't be mistaken for a coffee thermos like that damned vortex inducer.
"Geebus Marty and Broseph!" She screamed and sank her taloned gloves into the plastic of the wheel; wrenching it to the left as a mountain lion leapt down from a tree in front of the car.
She had just enough time to see Kim Possible chasing it down the street before she saw the telephone pole squarely in front of the Corolla. And then all she saw was stars as the front of the car folded itself around the pole and her head exploded against the wheel.
It took Shego a few minutes to come around and stumble out of the car. Looking around, she knew the knock to the head must have been bad. She was obviously hallucinating.
Somehow the telephone pole, as well as most of the houses along, the way had turned invisible.
The green themed villainess concentrated on forcing her mind to clear. Even with meteoric enhanced abilities, it took a few moments for her head to stop spinning and settle down to a dull roar. Then she turned around to see how bad the car was.
"Fuckit… totaled." She muttered, scuffing a boot along the asphalt.
The stout wooden pole might be missing, but its impression remained in the front of the car, a neat U-shaped punch-out right down the centerline.
After a moment, she kicked the headlight housing that was dangling out of the shattered front end. It dropped to the asphalt of the street with a clatter. Her eyes followed it and she noticed that something was astray in the mid-morning sun.
Reaching down, she picked up the lens, which was surprisingly intact aside from a crack where it had hit the pavement. The material, which had been a milk, chalky, and useless plate of aged plastic a few minutes ago now was clear as crystal.
Still reeling a bit, Shego stood back and looked at the smashed car. Aside from the impact damage it looked good as new. Which was where the discrepancies came in. The paint had, just moments before, been waxy, and peeling in places over the hood and roof. The fenders and runners had rust in all the likely locations. One of the wheel covers was missing, and the bumper sticker which once had boasted of an honor student at Middleton Prepatory was half-off.
In short it had been a thirteen year old beater of an econo-car being used by some college kid. Which was why she had chosen it for her incognito escape plan.
Now it looked fresh off the lot; aside from having been wrapped around an apparently invisible wooden pole. The chalky headlights, the grey primer, the rust pocks and faded bumper sticker; all were gone.
"…the hell?"
With a sneaking suspicion borne of years-long exposure to super science, Shego moved to the back of the crumpled car. A flick of one of her claws in the lock and the trunk popped open, confirming her fears.
The quantum whatchamawhosit was smashed. The glass portion had broken open and spilled its purple goop all over. But that wasn't all: around the spot it should have been smeared, was instead a carbonized black scorch, surrounded by spot welds where electrical arcs had rocketed out of the gadget and into the metal frame of the car.
Looking around, the villainess sighed. Wherever she was, was not exactly where she had left. And there was only one house the block, an upscale suburban spot. Kids in the yard and everything, so she couldn't exactly hole up there till Drakken brought a pod.
She settled back inside the smashed car, and lamented she hadn't stolen a version with an airbag, since her head was still ringing and she was sure her nose had a crease in it from hitting the wheel. First she picked her jPhone out of her pocket to check it. The screen was cracked badly in a spiderweb, but even if it wasn't… it showed zero bars.
Sighing she flicked on the radio. Surely even Drakken would be smart enough to be along before the police responded to her stolen and smashed car.
"Like a moth to a flame
Burned by the fire
My love is blind
Can't you see my desire
Like a moth to a flame
Burned by the fire My love is blind
Can't you see my desire?
That's the way love goes"
Shego blinked and looked at the dial. She was sure she was listening to the local pop hits station. The last song she remembered playing had been Britina's new summer track. But this song was almost as old as this car was. Back when people with the last name Jackson were considered musical talents instead of circus performers.
Sighing she was about to reach for the dial when the local yokel jockey came on, "And that was the top single off of 'Janet.' And while you're out looking for that cassette single this weekend, remember Jurassic Park continues to be tops at the theaters, blowing out its opening weekend with an unheard of forty-seven million dollars, including three mill just on midnight Thursday."
The villainess looked archly at the glowing green LED and shook her head. With morbid curiosity she surfed the dial some more. Porno for Pyros, Shania Twain, Genesis, Gloria Estefan… it was like old home week on the speakers. The fact that there even was a DJ and not just an endless computer generated playlist was an oddity.
With dawning horror, she flicked it off and looked at what had been a crowded and mature suburb before she crashed the car. It was now a fetal housing development at the very edge of Middleton, complete with prairie dog holes and unfinished lawns, "Oh no… no fucking way… huh-uh… my contract CLEARLY states no time travel. That BASTARD!"
She pounded on the steering wheel futilely and screamed her frustrations. "Drakken you asshole!"
AN: A oneshot I dug out of my files while looking for something else. Decided to neaten it up and post it. Enjoy, and remember, Reviews = Love and Sharing is Caring.