Title: Fit to be Queen
Author: KaptainSarcasm
Rating: PG for now
Warnings: Mild cursing, will contain femmeslash later on.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible.

Democratic Governor Kim Possible of Pennsylvania and her entourage of Secret Service bodyguards all filed into the large, cushy living room carrying bowls of popcorn, pretzels, cookies, and cheese curls. The redheaded woman settled onto her couch, grabbing a pillow and pressing it to her chest before kicking off her shoes and folding her legs beneath her. "Take a seat, gentlemen," she said, smiling at them. "Make yourselves at home."

Immediately, the big, buff men plopped themselves in various locations on the floor and on chairs. The bowls of snacks were passed around, and the big-screen television was turned on to CNN. Kim went to a mini fridge in the corner and produced cans of soda for her guests.

"…Of course, there's still an open battlefield here, but statistically, it seems unlikely that the winner will be anyone but Roberts or Wilfred," a political analyst on the television droned. The screen switched back to the lovely blonde woman at the desk, who thanked the analyst, and then she smiled brightly for the camera and began the introduction of the next portion of the program.

"And now, since we will soon be getting to know our Republican candidate, we here at CNN thought we would give you're a little glimpse into our Democratic presidential candidate, Governor Kim Possible of Pennsylvania." The men in the room cheered and hooted loudly, and Kim had the grace to blush and wave their cheers away. Suddenly Kim's high school yearbook photo was filling up the entire screen as the channel launched into their biography. The cheers turned into catcalls and gentle teasing.

Not much had changed about Kim since high school. Still in top physical shape, she had grown maybe another half-inch, but that was it. She kept her hair to her shoulders, always with a certain bounce in it, and never artificially colored. Years of stress and overachieving had given her a few gray hairs, and she wore them with pride. Her body had the gentle curves that would be expected of a 36-year-old woman, her hips and breasts having come in more fully since her world-saving days.

Well, Kim was still saving the world, just in a different way. It had never been within Kim's realm of ability to not help people, so when the time had come to pick a career, politics had seemed the best choice. Being the President of the United States, she reasoned, would be the easiest way to gain the power needed to save the world. Not just in the evil genius-fighting way, but in the world hunger-ending way. And so, with the help of her parents and Ron, she had worked hard enough in high school to get into a fantastic college, worked extra-extra-extra hard there and graduated at the top of her class. All the while, all along the way, when people asked, "What do you want to do after college?" she would say, "I want to be President." And no one laughed at her when she said it because she could do anything!

Her career path had been rocky at first, spending a number of years at non-prophet organizations dealing with state legislatures, but her work as a "filing clerk" had taught her many things. She went to big political parties, made friends, and exchanged business cards. The thing that pulled her off the ground floor was her ability to make friends, and she made the best friends in high places. Soon she was running for public office, and just as soon, she was winning.

Indeed, Kim had won many elections in her time, but none had been nearly as satisfying as the most recent one. Being elected to represent the Democratic party in the presidential election is, for anyone, a highly amazing honor, but it was especially great for Kim. She had not only won, but she had won by a margin of twenty-one percent! The Democratic party had not been so unified since the days of FDR. Yes, the moment one month before when she had learned of her victory, it had certainly been worth all the trouble, all the pain, all the hard work, all the bargaining and hand-shaking.

Since winning the candidacy, she had been laying low for a month until the vote for the Republican candidate, her opponent. The two likely candidates, Jack Roberts and Shannon Wilfred, were both pushovers in her opinion. Most political analysts agreed with her, too. Neither of them had a strong enough presence, a background as well-rounded and impressive as Kim's, or even a drive as firm as hers. Put against either of them, Kim felt that, unless something absolutely terrible and unpredictable happened, she would win the presidency without fail.

As she looked around at the Secret Service men, she smiled in half amusement. While she had known ahead of time about the intensity of the security forced upon the president and presidential candidates, she had not known of the sheer loyalty of these men. Each one of them loved her and fully supported her, and would willingly take a bullet for her, not just because it was their job. She had been talking to one of bodyguards, John, and he had said, "We had to take a test to see who was the most politically aligned. They wanted the guards assigned to you to be the best for your personality." As such, she had been assigned five men who made friends with her right off the bat. Five flamboyantly homosexual men.

Yes, Kim had, over the early course of her career, publicly announced her lesbianism. It had lost her a great deal of the religious right, but she had spent the next three years establishing herself as a firm, moral individual. She had been to church every Sunday morning since she was twenty-six, rain or shine, in sickness and in health. She could not remember the last time that she had said a curse word or a dirty word. Her middle finger remained decidedly un-raised. Finally, with slow, gentle coaxing, she had regained the Conservative's trust, even if she had not gained their complete approval.

The sound of the guards all shushing each other brought Kim quite suddenly out of her musings.

"This just in! We have the results of the Republican vote." A hand appeared from the right side of the screen and passed her a slip of paper. She opened it, looked at it, closed it, cleared her throat, opened it again, closed it again, and looked at the camera. "And the winner is… Shego!"

Kim Possible's soda dropped to the carpet as the words "What the fuck!" slipped passed her lips.