A/N: A big shout out of thanks to Juckalope for letting me use their wonderful picture "Let's Fight" as a cover image. You rock!

The lab was dark. Quiet too, but both were to be expected. The hour was beyond late, and lodged somewhere in the realm of "ungodly." A mind of an extra-legal persuasion might observe that this is a time ripe with opportunities: no witnesses; plenty of shadows to lurk, or perhaps slink about in; and a bounty of unattended, very valuable goodies to busy a fence with.

In short, it was a typical Tuesday night for one very special thief.

The criminal in question was (and to be fair, still is) a woman, and was currently breaking into this very secure, officially-doesn't-exist, room. She grinned faintly, charged with the thrill of the burglary. The object of her larcenous desire sat on its own (very professional) stand in the centre of the room.

"Oh." The woman groaned, speaking to the, probably very scientific, object. "If only you weren't a blatant trap, we could've had something special."

As if on cue, the room's lights raised.

"If you're done sweet-talking the bait, madam," a voice rang out, "we're going to arrest you now."

"The head of Global Justice in the flesh." The thief grinned, looking around at the grey-uniformed men surrounding her, and , in particular, the one leading them. "I should be honored. Lovely seeing you again Dr. Director." She smirked. "Or can I just call you Sheldon?"

"You can be as glib as you want, Ms. Possible." The greying man scoffed. "But we have you now. Surrender, and this won't get ugly. This time, even for you, escape is..." He grinned, "...quite impossible."

"Check the name, cyborg." The world's most notorious thief, Kim Possible, laughed. Her hands reached out to clutch the device before her, and she followed with an immediate backflip that, not only would've impressed an Olympic panel had one (for some reason) been present, but also carried her safely away from the reinforced cage that appeared, as if from thin air, where she had just been standing. "Thanks for the toy." A hand raised, clutching her grappling hook. If fired into the ceiling, pulled taut, and pulled her into the safe darkness of the rafters. "Send someone more interesting next time." She cackled madly.

For the third time that month, Dr. Sheldon Director swore.

Elsewhere, and by elsewhere, I mean in a hovercraft rapidly escaping the scene, Kim shared a high five and a toast of soda with her getaway drivers.

"Booyah!" Her partner-in-crime, Ronald Stoppable cheered, careful to keep one hand on the wheel as he chugged his cola. "Heistage!"

"Uh-huh, Uh-huh!" His mole-rat compatriot, Rufus, nodded his assent.

Kim smiled contentedly, gently sipping her own bottle of pop. "So not the crime drama."

"Oh really?" Ron smiled broadly, finishing his own bottle and tossing it out of the aircraft. "Let's ask Wade, hmm?"

On cue, the face of their friend, hacker, and comrade-in-illegality appeared on the hovercraft's dashboard viewscreen.

"It's already been posted to the front page of every major newspaper, and plenty of the ones no-one cares about: Team Possible, Laughing, Loots Lanchester Launcher-Global Justice Left Lagging."

"Love the alliteration." Ron declared, giving his friend a thumbs up.

"I thought it was a nice touch." Wade beamed. "See you three at the hideout?"

"Of course." Kim leaned back in her chair, tossing her, now empty, bottle into the sea below. "Setup or not, I'm getting paid for this. Find me some money, Wade."

"Done. Don't worry, Kim. I'll find us a buyer. I know you love payday so."

"I do," Kim pretended to swoon. "I really do."

Four voices carried on with knowing, maniacal, laughter as the vehicle that carried (most of) them sped away into the night.


A/N: Thoughts?