Author's Note: I do not own Kim Possible or any related characters. This is a work made merely for fun and no money whatsoever was involved in this.

Also, any correlation with real characters, situations or events is purely casual and no to consider related with the knot of disgust and anger born in my stomach after a new of some sort came up on the TV about a sad episode of homophobia.

I have written this because of a service on Swiss teapots.

I swear.

Wish You Were There

A Kim Possible fanfiction by Shaggley

At first, Luisa had tried to ignore the continous whispering and pointing from the near table, but it was becoming more and more annoying by the minute; even holding Angela's hand into her own across the table, a gesture usually so comforting and heartening, was less and less useful.
She closed her eyes, then turned on her chair, without letting go Angela's soft hand, and spoke to the people near to them: a man and two women.
Usually, the Caffé Guerritore was so lovely a place.

"What's wrong with you, guys?"

The women made a face and the man frowned; he leaned forward on his chair, drawing himself nearer to Luisa; it was him who spoke.

"Ex-cuse me? "

His voice promised only pain, but Luisa was too fed up to let it pass again. Holding tighter her lover's hand, she answered.

"Can you please stop to make stupid remarks about me and my girlfriend? It's not that we can't hear you, you know."

The man glanced at his two companions, who smirked and chuckled. Then he raised his hand a little and pointed at her and Angela.

"I didn't know you little dykes had a hearing that good. Is it true that you also have hairs on your chests?"

"Because judging from your legs...!" Said one of the women, while the other one suffocated her laugther in her hand.

Luisa felt her girlfriend's hand sweat in her own; she was tempted to stand up and slap the man in his face, but she tossed a glance to Angela and the look in her worried eyes, her slight movement of the head in a no, please, nomotion, convinced her to turn back, finish her coffee in one gulp, and reach for her purse.

"We're leaving."

She said to Angela, starting to push back into her purse her wallet and the keys. Then she heard another snicker coming from the near table, and she cursed under her breath.

"Pricks."

Unfortunately, it was loud enough.

The man got up, making the chair screech on the floor, and with four steps he stood in front of Luisa, one of his hands on his hip, the other one tapping on his ear.

"Maybe I didn't hear so well, dyke. Repeat?"

Angela's other hand took her own too, trembling, but Luisa refused to remain silent. This man looked stupid and aggressive enough to harm her, but she had no intention to let it pass; there had been too many jerks like this one that had made her life a living hell back in school, just a few years ago. She furrowed her eyes and repeated.

"You. Are. A. Prick."

And with that she got up, took her purse and tried to lead her and Angela to the exit, but the man took a step and stood before her; one of his hands grabbed her by the wrist. She jerked and tried to get free, but his grip was strong.

"Hey, let me go!"

The man smirked.

"Well, you like being the man..."

His eyes lingered on Angela, pure disgust pouring from them.

"... I'll beat you up like a man!"

He charged his fist; Luisa tensed her body in response, but didn't shrieked. She never shrieked, not in the last twelve years. She just closed her eyes shut.

So, when a green flaming punch hit the man in the chest, tossing him over the nearest table, and eliciting the screams the man's assault didn't rise... she missed the show.