A/N: A very strange unloving kigo story.

Whatever Happened To Kim Possible?

Chapter One: Hatred Takes Action

The crowd erupted once more as the teen red head walked proudly onto the stage, a blue diamond dress seemed to light up the entire room, her smile winning the cameras over and over. A certain spring in her step made the boys drool, perhaps a few women on the side. Of course in these days, that can't be accepted.

The man who stood in the middle of the stage, his fake smile never faltering as he shook the red head's hand, as they gave each other a European kiss. As she held the three silver men award in the air, also to be referred to as 'the Nobel peace prize'

As roses were sent from every angle the red head could see, everyone's smiles and cheers made her feel like the luckiest woman in the world. Of course, there was always that one…

"I would just like to thank my parents for this award." The winner said once the audience had calmed down a bit, everything she said seemed to gain a cheer from somewhere in the massive crowd "for teaching me the great consequences of right and wrong. I am so grateful I was brought up on the path of justice and righteousness."

"Let's give it up for Kim Possible ladies and gentlemen!" The presenter said once more, as a large banner of Kim Possible in a proud pose seemed to fall from the sky.

She watched from a distance. Hatred growing inside her, hatred so strong that it was probably a sin to even be thought of. But she hid it well, as she applauded the 'hero' like the rest of the idiots down there. How she hated it, how that brat was getting all the attention because she was thought of as 'deserving' and 'a role model.' Oh how she wanted to spit on the grave of whoever thought of this prize. She wasn't saying she wanted the stupid piece of metal, oh no. She was fine the way she was, it was just that stupid brat had her hopes up so high, only for them to be achieved? How come life wasn't like that? Have high hopes and then everything will be fucking peachy? Or is that just reserved for the special brats?

"Hey." Kim said kindly to the woman. God how she hated the hero's kindness at the moment.

"Congratulations!" The woman exclaimed, hiding the snarl behind the red mane the teen possessed, as she wrapped her arms round the hero. If only she could squeeze her until she heard the satisfying snap of the girls ribs.

"Shego I'm so glad you could make it."

"As if I'd ever miss it."

"Hey I heard that there's gonna be some sort of celebration tonight, do you wanna tag along?"

"Sure!"

Do I wanna 'tag along?' Yes because this little 'celebration's' fate lies within me saying I shall attend or not. What a fucking load of bull shit.

"Oh good, it wouldn't be the same without you." Kim praised her 'friend.' Shego pulled Kim behind one of the curtains, as she gave the teen a strong kiss. Hatred and love burning inside the woman it was like being cut to pieces only to be soothed by a god's touch.

Shego. A strange name for that time. For any time actually. But her parents had been very creative… maybe a bit too creative. Their creativity may have been the reason they were killed in a mining cave in. Her brothers had been left behind as a thing of the past, never to be looked back on. She had quite happily kicked the dust at them and ran away.

Fuck responsibility, I'm not wasting my life looking after some kids and an immature man. I've got a life to live!

That life to live had led Shego in many directions. Many had ended up bumping into 'the hero.' Such as being arrested for drunk and disorderly. And many other illegal activities, of course 'the hero' had been in no such trouble, she was voluntarily doing community service. The fucking kiss up.

But never the less, the two had ended up in the same bed together. Of course behind everyone else's back. Such a thing to be spoken aloud would result in a life of isolation. Homophobic attacks. They may as well have been stuck with the black race. The race that was still looked down upon. For such crappy reasons such as difference. The skin. The beliefs. The features. The family background. All of that mattered to these low lives in the world.

Kim continued to try and make the world equal, once again her goody two shoes side showing. Not that Shego cared.

Kim saw everyone as equal; everyone deserved fair justice not biased. No matter what.

Shego saw everyone as lower or higher. There was no equal.

There was the religion that was the category that separated most people up. Stick them all in there own little believing corners of the world. Religion? What a petty way to raise someone's hopes up. Pray to the air and get what you want? Shego would not hear of such nonsense.

A certain race? They would all be stuck as inferior to white people, who were no better themselves, but seemed to enjoy thinking of themselves as 'the higher species' what bull shit this world owned. Blacks, browns and whites. That was mainly how the world was divided up.

There was no 'we are all humans' in Shego's book. To her everyone was the same, god damn, annoying, oxygen wasting, pain in the ass, bitches to someone.

So what did that make her?

Someone who didn't care what others thought. Go ahead! Stick her with 'Jews', see if she's bothered! Stick her with 'the nips'! She will just keep walking down that street like she owns the place. Place her in a room of 'looked down niggers'? She will make you look up at her. Stick her with 'the unnatural carpet muncher.' The result would be the damn same, she wouldn't care. So why does 'the hero' care about what people think about her? It was beyond Shego's understanding.

Shego just owned one of those personalities.

So how did the two women manage not to tear each other's hair out? Well, that is where it's wrong. They did tear each other's hair out. That was their best way of communicating, of course they couldn't do it out in public, but once Shego had introduced the red head into punching in a vast field out in the country.

They eventually adapted their own fighting styles.

I don't hate her, I just despise her personality. Her body on the other hand, well I do believe that speaks for itself. Shego thought to herself.

Of course talking was more of a last resort…

THAT NIGHT –

Late in the streets filled with posh big houses, a 1946 Lincoln Continental drove slowly into a driveway of a large house. Stopping abruptly at the front of the gates.

One of the two women got out of the car, their tired feet dragging as they fumbled around with the lock, too tired to try and focus which key opened the lock.

While the other woman in the car looked at the other, the look slowly turned into a glare and then a snarl towards the other, slowly pressing down on the clutch, her strong hands pushed the gear stick into first, quickly releasing the clutch and slamming down on the gas, the car sped towards the woman.

The other turned round, letting out a terrified scream as she watched the cars beams speed towards her.

The sound of the car banging against the gates echoed round the streets, panicking at what her hatred had manipulated her to do, the sound of hurried footsteps were heard, but never seen.

OK peoples, please, please, please, please do not take offence to that offensive paragraph. It's just this story is set in that terrible time of life, were everyone was looked down upon by another.

Now, while I work away at a sequel to another story, I just thought I'd practice a bit on this story. But beware, I don't really own this. Well kind of…

It's a re-write of the classic move 'Whatever Happened To Baby Jane'