BE, S 6: Yes, Mistress
Disclaimer/Author's Notes: Kim Possible and all the characters of the show are owned by the Disney Company. All other characters can be blamed on the author (he, however, is not responsible for all of their actions at all times, being barely responsible for himself most of the time….).
This is a strictly not-for-profit, just-for-fun work.
You can read this without reading the background stories, but I would highly recommend (shameless plug) Black Hole Deep, version 2.0 and BE, S 1: Blue Eyes, Shining. You'll enjoy this story even more, and this story will make more sense if it's read in context.
A/N Forward:
Questions:
Why is Shego willing to risk everything to talk to Kim?
Answer:
Something's wrong with Drew Lipsky….
Yes, Mistress
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Chapter 1: Open wounds
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(Mr. Ronald Dean Stoppable, Esq.)
"Give it up, Monkey - whoa, Dude!"
Kim was busy with her family getting ready for graduation, so I'd taken the mission in late April myself and gone after Monkeyfist in his latest quest (yet, again….) to obtain Mystical Monkey Power.
Rufus and I had made quick work of the monkey ninjas: there seemed to be fewer of them than before, this time.
Rufus ran off after the last four, and I had cajoled Monte out of the shadows, finally, and I now knew why he'd been hiding.
"What happened, guy? Bad fur day, or what?"
There were bare spots where fur had been on both his legs and trunk.
Monte cringed.
He'd never cringed like that, before.
"'She' did it when I didn't respond fast enough," he yelled, and then he got quiet.
"Please don't tell her I told; she'll be angry with me, and you know what that means," he added as he picked at the bare spots on his legs and arms.
"Who is 'she,' and what does her being angry mean?" I asked, and he looked surprised.
"You do not know Mistress?"
"Mistress who?"
"I've said too much!" he shouted in fear. "She will be angry that I did not complete the task.
"I must return," and he turned and scampered out of the room, and I saw more tufts of fur missing from his back.
"Dude, you need to get some ReGro for those bald spots," I muttered as Rufus came back into the room.
"HEY!" he shouted at me, jumped up onto my shoulder, and began to chew me out so fast that I didn't even catch what he was saying, but it was something about where I should put bananas; I guessed he meant the kitchen.
"Not you, little buddy: Monkeyfist. Did you see the missing fur off his back?" and he stopped chewing me out, and grinned.
"uh huh uh huh…sorry," and he pulled up the bunch of bananas that he'd found and tried to stuff the entire bunch in my pockets.
"Won't work, Rufus: I've tried, before," I told him, and he growled and began to devour the bananas en masse, peels, stems, and all.
"High fiber diet, huh, little guy?"
"HEY!" and he went back to devouring.
I pulled out the Kimmunicator, punched it on, and the screen popped on with Wade looking down at something. He looked up and smiled.
I still wasn't used to this skinnier Wade, and I really wasn't used yet to the hickey marks that Joss kept leaving on his neck.
'True love waits, but it's gonna leave a mark or five in the meantime,' I thought with a grin.
"Hey, Ron. Got Monkeyfist?"
"He took off, but the ninjas are here, what few there are. Send the zoo trucks; I think we're going offshore, this time, correct?"
"You're correct: we have two options, but we can talk about those when you and Rufus get back."
"Joss been gone long?" I asked with a smile.
"She just left. Why do you ask?"
"Your neck, guy," and he reached up and touched, then pulled up a mirror.
"Oh, man…time for another turtleneck," he mused, and grinned.
"Something's wrong with Monte, though," I told him, and he looked quizzical.
"He's scared stiff of someone he called 'Mistress,' and he looks like he's been in a hair-pulling contest, and he lost big-time."
"Ewww."
"Wrongsick was my thought, Wade."
"Jet'll be landing in 15, Ron, and the cages are onboard."
"You rock, Wade," and he grinned.
"That's what Joss said before she left, Ron," and he smiled real big as he cut the connection.
"We're two really lucky ducks, Wade," I said to myself, and the huge flash of lightening from outside was quickly followed by a thunderclap that stirred up the huge flocks of birds that had been resting on the adjacent ponds.
"Looks like a bumpy ride back home, Rufus," and he looked up from the remains of the banana bunch.
"Uh-oh," was his comment.
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Last week of school, and there was another surprise.
Every male in the parking lot knew that sound.
Heck, every male in Middleton knew that sound and coveted it (sorry, Big Guy: I know that we're not supposed to covet, but we do…).
We all lusted after one of those cars and would almost trade their girlfriends for one. I knew it was a definite "almost" in my case: when you had had the most beauticious, badical fiancée in the world for the last five months, you wouldn't trade her for all the Nacos and extra cheese in the world!
But, it was the last week of school, and the sound was turning into the school parking lot.
Jet-black with chrome down the mid-line on both sides.
It was a Jedi 5000: only the most badical car that Gourd or anyone else had ever made.
And, it even looked like the Special Edition!
Oh, man….
It pulled up to the sidewalk, and the purring of its engine stopped. The driver door gull-winged, and out stepped:
"Mankey-boy! DUDE! This is yours?" Five voices asked at the same time. Joss Mankey stepped out, a custom black Meezod shirt, black leather pants, and black high leather boots, the whole outfit topped off with a pair of shades that had to have cost $500.00.
"Not mine: it's hers," as he opened the door, and a drop-dead gorgeous pair of legs in fishnet stockings and what had to be 4-inch heels came out.
Tongues were burning on the asphalt: mostly male, but some female, as well….
The rest of the body exited: a black leather micro-skirt, a spray-on white blouse showing a wonderfully inordinate amount of cleavage ('Gotta be a cheerleader,' was the thought of most of the guys.), and the platinum-blonde hair fell to the chest and framed the girls wonderfully.
Guys all around wanted to be that hair.
The face was hidden for a moment by the hair and a matching pair of shades, and then she lifted her beautifully-manicured hands (1-inch silver nails) and removed the shades.
"TARA?"
"Hi, Ron," she purred like the Jedi engine. "You like the car?"
"A lot less than what just stepped out of it," was the truth.
"RON!" and she giggled. Her soprano voice, floating over the dead silence she'd created stepping out of the car, was a bit huskier than before, but still as lovely. Her giggles were like tiny ice pellets striking a copper rooftop: crystal-pure beauty.
"You're already taken by a gorgeous redhead, and I'd never, ever, consider trying to take the man of a member of the cheer-sisterhood," and she giggled, again.
"But, thank you for the compliment, Ron," and she leaned over and kissed my cheek, "You're sweet," and she then turned and looked at Josh, who immediately smiled.
"Josh, park me somewhere safe."
"Yes, M- er, Tara," and he closed her door, ran around the car, and jumped in, his door closing as he started the engine. He peeled out like a potato, looking for a parking space like a pile of French fries looking for hot grease to jump into.
"Tara, when…how did you get that car?" My jaw was still on the ground.
"I've been working on the side, Ron," and she took my hand in hers.
I giggled: her hands were beautiful, but they weren't as lovely as the rest of the package.
"RON!"
oops…
"Hey, KP," but I was safe because KP and Monique were staring at Tara.
"Tara! GF, that outfit is TDF!" came from Monique, and Kim nodded vigorously.
"You like?" Tara asked.
"It's not Banana, but I like," answered Monique.
"Actually, Mon, it is: Club Banana Custom, the line that you can only get in Dallas, Go City, or New York."
"Girl, that outfit had to set you back some heavy Claude," was Monique's response. "How'd you pull that outfit and the car off?"
"Teaching," Tara said simply and winked, and both Monique and Kim looked perplexed for a moment, then had an A-HA moment, and all three girls laughed uproariously as they all walked into the building.
"Rufus?" and my favorite Naked Mole Rat popped up, munching a Mini-Corn Dog.
"Do you know what just happened?" and he stared at me like I was an idiot, and replied:
"NUH-UH!"
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(Dr. Kimberly Anne Possible-Stoppable)
"Kim, we have a hit on the site," Wade had beeped in right in the middle of my massage from Ron.
Those hands are to die for…if playing games gave him that touch, I loved Zombie Mayhem and Cage Bats.
"Wade, this had better be good," I replied as Ron continued my back worship. "Oh, yessss, that feels wonderful, Ron," I whispered, and Wade found a grin for an instant, then lost it.
"It's from Shego."
"WHAT?" and I sat up so fast that my towel fell off, and Ron fainted.
I still had my bra on, but it didn't help him, anyway.
"Shego?"
"Shego," he grinned. "And, get this: she wants to meet with you about Dr. Drakken," he added, and I let out a feral growl.
I still wasn't completely over the 'Diablos' incident, and I certainly wasn't a happy camper over the deals he'd cut with Global Justice and several world courts for them to be released in return for assistance in the final cleanups worldwide and the 'voluntary' contribution from one of Shego's offshore accounts of US $545.5 Million to assist in the cleanup costs. I still didn't know GJ and the governments came up with that amount.
'What's wrong with ol' blue-skin?" I asked.
"Shego thinks he's dying, Kim," and that definitely got my attention.
"When, and where?"
"She said that she'd meet in any location that you chose."
She must either be really prepared, or really worried.
"Tell her" and I gave him a date and time and then described a location that only she and I (and Wade) knew about.
"Hold on," Wade added Shego into the picture.
"Did you get that, Shego?"
"Sure thing, Kim," and she must have really been worried: no 'Kimmie' or 'Princess,' and no putdowns.
This must be serious.
"Aren't you worried that this might be a setup on my part, Shego?"
"No, for two reasons, Kim:
"One: you're too goody-goody to do something like that, and
"Two: it won't matter if I can't get Dr. D some help," and her voice got much softer as she spoke:
"I'd rather be dead, then, anyway, or in jail," and, surprisingly, a tear fell.
I had to ask.
"You love him, don't you, Shego?" I said softly, and she fired up her hands for a moment, and then it went out.
Silence, and a long glare from her, and finally a response:
"yes," she whispered, and then she burst into tears as she cut the connection.
"Well," Wade said after a few moments, "that was definitely a 9.6 on the awk-wierd meter," and I nodded.
"Do you need a ride, Kim?"
"No, thanks, Wade: I'll get there, myself."
"Got your back, Kim," he answered, and the Kimmunicator blanked.
Ron was coming to, so I lay down on my front, quickly, before he could look up and pass out, again..
"Kim, did you just-" and I shook my head "no."
"Wishful thinking, 'Potential Boy,'" I grinned. "I still have my top on, Ron, you knew that."
"Good: even though we're engaged, I'm still not thrilled about deep-space probes, 'Princess,'" he replied with a squeeze of my shoulder, then I heard him rubbing his hands together with more lotion. Then, he gently placed them on my back.
"Ahhh, that's better," I purred, and he used his wonderful hands to remove my 12 years of school stress from my neck, shoulders, and back for the next 45 minutes as I described what he'd missed by being 'out.'
It had actually been a quiet summer: only one mission with Dementor (and Ron didn't lose his pants. "It's a new me, Kim," he replied when I made the observation, and the pants hinted at falling but stopped), and we hadn't heard from Drakken or MonkeyFist or DNAmy or even Motor Ed. I guess, now, I knew why Drakken hadn't made an appearance.
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(Two days later, at an undisclosed location…)
Ron and I sat on the porch of the small cottage, holding hands and watched the sun set, when we heard the hovercar land. Well, really, we felt it more than heard it, but you get the idea.
Shego came walking up the path to the porch, and she was holding a manila envelope in her right hand.
"Shego." I nodded.
"Hello, Princess," was her reply.
Good: Miss Feisty was back, so I knew she was feeling better.
"Are you all right, Shego," and she proved me wrong.
She stopped in mid-stride and broke down, heaving sobs. Ron jumped up and ran to her, but she held her hand up as if to stop him, and she kept sobbing violently for about a minute, but then she stopped suddenly, and looked up, tears remaining on her face.
"Kimmie, I need your help," and she stepped up onto the porch and sat down in one of the wicker chairs, grimacing and mumbling something about 'wicker…figures, Kimmie would have put wicker here," before she stared at me.
"Kimmie, Drakken is skipping Friday karaoke nights," Shego started, and that got my attention: the same man who went rappin' Drakken and Dr. D on us would never skip Friday karaoke night. He could only carry a tune in a large wash bucket, but he'd never skip Friday night singing, if for no other reason than to embarrass Shego.
She then opened the envelope, and pulled out a picture.
It was a picture of Drakken's right arm, and there was a long, deep cut on it, about 3 inches in length.
"What do you think caused this, Kimmie?"
"Sword, or a knife. Why?"
"Would you believe, this?" and she pulled a dove feather out of the envelope, and the soft end of the feather was soaked in blood.
She ran it across her arm, and nothing happened. She handed it to Ron, who did the same, cautiously, and nothing happened.
"I touched Dr. D. with this 4 days ago, and you see the result," she stated, much calmer than I would have been.
"How?"
"That's why I need you help," and she pulled another picture from the folder, and it was Drakken's back, completely covered in what looked like long, slender cuts, some still oozing a thin stream of blood, and some healed over.
"He has come back to the lair like this every Friday night, for the past 10 Fridays," Shego continued, "and the first three Fridays, he never slept; he just tossed and turned and mumbled all night," and, light bulbs and alarms went off in my head.
"And, you'd know this, how?" Ron asked, and Shego's left hand glowed green for an instant, and then went out.
"No, we're not sleeping together!" she shouted, and Ron smiled. "The lair has an intercom system, and I tapped into it and can hear what happens in his room," and she grinned, "and, believe me, Kimmie, nothing happens in there unless I'm there."
"Oh, really?" was Ron's smirking retort, and Shego blushed!
"Those first three nights," she continued, "he yelled out 'No, Mistress!" and 'Yes, Mistress A!' and 'Yes, please, again, Mistress T!' several times as he tossed and turned.
"Kim, I can't track him when he goes: he turns off the tracking sensors, and he's blocked my attempts to bug the car with jammers. I've tried everything I know, but, somehow, he's even eluding me," and I knew she was worried: Kim, not Kimmie, not Princess.
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but:
"I need your help, Kim Possible."
And, then, I heard something I thought I'd never hear from Shego:
"Please, Kimmie?" she asked, softly. "Please help me," and she stood silent for a moment, and then she tossed in the bombshell:
"Drew, he doesn't know it, yet, because I haven't had the cajones to tell him," and Ron paled.
"Yes, I'm in love with the doofus, God Herself doesn't know why," and then, Ron fainted.
Shego looked at Ron on the ground, at me, then back at Ron, then back at me, looking at the ring for the nth time.
"Why?" and I knew what she was asking
"Look at the ears, Shego," I replied, and she looked, at me, then back at Ron, then back at me, then got a huge grin on her face.
"Gotcha," and I grinned.
"Small fingers aren't an indicator, either, Kimmie," and I gasped as she smirked, and then we both laughed out loud.
"I've got two gallons each of double Dutch chocolate, fresh strawberry, Vermont Maple Crunch, three-bean French Vanilla, and Vinnie and Geraldo's 'Homemade Rocky Road' ice cream in the hovercar freezer," and I smiled. She did know me as well as I knew her.
"Vermont Maple Crunch, right?" and she nodded with a smile.
"Hey, a girl's gotta keep up her energy to keep the plasma home fires burning, Kimmie. Shall I?" and Shego grew her smile into a grin.
"Bring it on, Shego," I waved three fingers, and she laughed. "I've got bowls, scoops, spoons, and sauces," and she turned, heading to get the treats.
"What, no whipped cream?" came just loud enough for me to hear, and I turned to Ron, who was now standing and grinning.
"Wedding night, Ron," I smiled sweetly, and he almost fainted again, but he headed indoors for the trappings to serve.
I loved having a chef for a fiancée, especially a really cute one like my Ron….
Now, I was starting to sound like Joss and Wade, but then I smiled.
My Ron…all mine.
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Author's afterward:
This story is dedicated to RI100014 and Blackbird: I bet you two thought I'd forgotten, but I had a lot of time to think in the hospital….
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For my fellow writers, reader, and Friends of Jade here on for your continued support, and PM me if you have any questions about the JadeKimVerse. I respond to all PMs, emails, and reviews.
And, I'd be remiss if I didn't thank all of my readers for their support in the Fannies. I was honored, humbled, and surprised when I was awarded by you, my readers, the recognition of Best New Writer of 2006 along with King in Yellow (a tie: you'll rarely get that at the Oscars). I was also in the top three vote-getters in the category of Best Alternative Pairings for Joss and Wade: go figure.
This is our award, because I couldn't have done it without you.
Preview:
Shego's making nice to Kim, Month's lost fur, and Dr. D. misses Friday night karaoke to get scars on his back? It's a 9.8 on the weird-o-meter.
Chapter 2: Post-graduate investigation is next.
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Thanks again for reading, and please review.
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