Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.
A lot of reviewers wrote that they wanted to see more story... Not sure this counts as story, it's more like setting the stage in case I decide to add more. Still no real action. Thomas Linquist gave me an idea used in this addition.
Where There's a Will There's a Won't
Ron woke up and realized he felt fine. Which seemed very odd. He assumed he was sick. He did not have a headache so he had not been drunk. No recent missions would have left him drugged, hypnotized, mind controlled, or sucked into a 1960s situation comedy. He paused his thought process. If he had been mind controlled, would he remember it? Monkey Fist might have... No, last he knew Monkey Fist was in prison. But if he had used magic would Ron remember?
The green genie had seemed terribly real, but such a thing was, of course, impossible – and given some of the things he and Kim had encountered for him to label anything as impossible meant it truly had to be absurd.
A dream! It had all been a dream. Why hadn't he realized that sooner? The way she had disappeared after they'd had a couple beers, was the stuff of which dreams are made.
Feeling much better he got out of bed and made an omelet filled with spinach, feta, a bit of black olives and purple onion and a whisper of oregano. For Rufus, diced mango and gouda. Kim was probably having a bowl of cereal or a pop tart. He'd tell her about his breakfast when he saw her, and tempt her with the promise of a wonderful breakfast if she'd spend the night at his place. How many wonderful breakfasts until she made it a habit of spending the night? He was eager to find out.
Thoughts of Kim spending the night had Ron smiling as he drove to the office. He was still smiling as he parked in his spot and entered the building.
The smile left him when he saw Mr. Stephens, the building manager, standing in the lobby with a frown on his face and staring impatiently at the front door. Someone was in trouble. Ron thought fast. They were current on rent. No explosions in the last four weeks. Mr. Stephens had to be waiting for someone else. Ron regained his smile and headed for the elevators.
"Hold it right there, Mr. Stoppable."
Ron froze. "Yes?"
"The custodial staff inform me there is someone living in your suite. This building is zoned commercial. Your lease does not–"
"Hey, you know Wade works late! No one lives in the suite."
"They report a woman. Mr. Load would never be mistaken for a woman."
"Look, I don't know what they claimed they saw. I don't know if Kim came in or what, but I–"
"It was not Ms. Possible."
"Great," Ron groaned. "We get broken into and you're complaining like it's our fault?"
"Well, let's examine your office, shall we, to see where the evidence points," Mr. Stephens suggested in a chilly tone, clearly not believing Ron.
They rode to the third floor in silence. Ron opened the door to their suite and groaned. The metal case which had held the lamp was on the coffee table in the waiting area.
"And what is that!" Mr. Stephens asked in an angry tone, pointing to a door on a wall which should have no door.
"Don't know," Ron replied. "I'm home dreaming."
"What?"
Ron ignored the building manager as he picked up the case. It certainly felt real.
"Stop that!" a woman's voice yelled from behind the door which had not been there the day before."
"And who is that?" Mr. Stephens snorted.
"Maybe I am sick?" Ron thought. "This sure makes no sense. Wouldn't the genie be in her lamp?" He shook the case slightly.
"DAMN IT! I SAID STOP THAT!" Shego screamed.
"I want to know who–" Mr Stephens began when the new door flew open.
An angry, dripping wet woman, with a towel wrapped around her stood in the doorway, glaring out. "Don't move my lamp while I'm in here! What are you trying to do? God damn it, show some respect for the lamp! I–" She noticed Mr. Stephens. "Who in the hell are you?"
Startled, Ron dropped the case back onto the table. Shego almost lost her towel as the room in which she was standing shook like it was hit with an earthquake - although nothing disturbed the room in which the two men stood.
"Damn it!" she swore.
"See here, young woman I–"
"I asked who the hell you are?"
"Darrin Stephens, I'm the building manager. I don't know what you've done but–"
Shego slammed the door.
"Who is that?" the building manager demanded.
Ron put up his hands in a 'How would I know?' gesture.
Mr. Stephens strode over and reached for the doorknob. "I wouldn't do that," Ron advised.
Ron's warning didn't stop the manager who threw the door open... And found a blank wall on the other side. He cautiously reached out his hand and touched the wall. It appeared solid. He rapped it with his knuckles. It was solid. "Who was that?" he demanded again.
"Hey, our office is on this side of the wall," Ron pointed out. "If you saw someone on the other side... Not our office over there. Ask the undertakers."
"Why would the Funeral Director's Professional Association have a young woman wearing a towel in their office?"
Ron pondered the image of Kim wearing nothing but a towel, then shrugged, "Well, I can think of... Never mind. I worry about our side of the wall. If you want to know what's happening on their side you'd better ask them."
"I will!" and the building manager stomped out.
Ron decided he was better off not touching the case with the lamp and went to the break room to start a pot of coffee. Rufus watched the proceedings for a few minutes then wandered off to his tiny hammock in Ron's office to sleep off breakfast.
The carafe was almost full when Shego appeared, wearing her green-and-black outfit with her damp hair wrapped in a towel. "So, when does Princess get in?"
Ron groaned, "You're real."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"Well, you haven't answered mine."
"You didn't ask a question."
"Sure I did. Of all the gin joints of all the towns in the world, why did you walk into mine?"
"So, you're admitting defeat, Humphrey?"
"Huh?"
"Ingrid Bergman goes off with the other guy, remember? So Kim's going to get on the plane with me and fly off to... Where was that?"
"You spent too much time in the lamp watching movies."
"Hey, there're things I would much rather be doing. And, speaking of which, you still haven't told me when Princess gets here."
Ron glanced at the clock, "She's usually here by now. Of course she was out with the Pixie Scouts last night. Get some apple juice and sugar in those girls and they can party all night. Can't say. Probably soon."
"Ah well, patience is a virtue. Not that I have any."
"Patience or virtue?"
"Neither. Give me a cup of that swill and explain the angry man."
"Hey, I make a darn good cup of coffee."
"I make better."
"You're welcome to try."
"Okay, where do I put the sand?"
"Sand?"
"Well, if I put the coals directly on the floor it might start a fire."
"What are you–"
"Ibriks, sugar, a little cardamom, and powdered coffee – as coffee was meant to be prepared."
"Sounds good, but I think the fire on the floor would really tick off Mr. Stephens."
"Ah yes, that was his name. He appeared upset. What was the problem?"
"Well, this is rented as office space. We aren't supposed to have anyone living in these rooms."
"I'm not. I was in the lamp."
"But the lamp was on... At least the case was on the table."
"But the rooms in the lamp were behind the door, so when you move the lamp you shake up my home."
"Wait, the lamp was on the table... But the rooms... Rooms? How many rooms? The rooms are in the lamp but not in the lamp?"
"Right. I forget how many rooms I have... I only use eight or nine–"
"Eight or nine?"
"Yeah. Any way–"
"Why didn't you take the lamp inside with you?"
"Well, duh, you can't take the lamp into the rooms that are inside it. That's just stupid."
Ron sighed. "So, shaking the lamp shakes you up?"
"Don't get any ideas. When the rooms inside the lamp are inside the lamp it's stable. But when the rooms inside the lamp are outside the lamp you need to be fucking careful with it or you'll break something."
Ron grinned, "I'll remember that."
"Thanks, I– Hey, watch it." She took a sip of coffee. "Actually, this isn't bad."
"Thanks."
"So, Stephens is like police or something?"
"He can get us thrown out of the building."
She looked around, "That'd be an improvement."
They heard the outer door open, and Kim's voice called, "Ron? I had the strangest..." She saw the case on the table, "It was real?"
"Yeah. She's in the break room with me."
"Great," Kim muttered and joined them.
As Kim took her mug from the drainer and filled it with coffee Shego complained, "You people are not making me feel welcome."
"Have you asked yourself why?" Ron suggested.
"Want me to get rid of him for you?" Shego asked Kim.
"No, he's my best friend," Kim told her.
"I've got a standing marriage proposal out to her," Ron added.
"Then can I get rid of him for me?" Shego asked.
Kim ignored the comment. "Did Wade leave anything for us?" she asked Ron.
"Haven't checked my desk yet. Mr. Stephens had a complaint about someone living in our office."
Kim looked puzzled, then glanced at Shego. Ron nodded yes. "Great."
"Hey, if it's a problem," Shego told her, "I could move in with you."
"We should check our desks," Kim told Ron.
Shego smacked her fist into the palm of her other hand, "Sounds great, partners," she said with real enthusiasm. "A lot more exciting than sitting around waiting for that last guy to find a sucker who'd take the lamp."
"You are not coming with us on any missions," Kim told her bluntly.
"C'mon, I'll be great."
"No."
Shego looked at Ron, "She always this negative?"
"She's been turning down proposals for more than a year," Ron told her.
"Well, the reason for that is obvious," Shego snorted.
"There's no rush," Kim insisted. "It would complicate things. But you," she pointed at Shego, "aren't going on missions. Ron and I are a very good team, years of experience. I know I can trust him. You're an unknown factor."
"I can do all kinds of great shit! I'd be huge asset. The three musketeers. How can I learn to function on the team if I can't go out with you?"
"You're not going out with us."
"Give me one good reason why not!"
"Liability insurance."
"Say what."
"Liability insurance. Ron, Wade, Rufus, and I are on the policy, you're not. It's mostly for Ron and me."
"But–"
"And right now there's no time to argue. We need to see if anything's on the calendar."
Ron figured there was time to argue. Wade would have called if there were an emergency, so anything on the calendar could probably wait for a minute. But Ron didn't like to argue and was perfectly happy to let Kim have the last word.
Shego followed Kim to her office and watched the redhead check her desk. "Oh, a briefing from Global Justice. Ron and I will need to be at the airport in an hour." (Kim had known about the meeting for two weeks, and, like Ron, knew Wade would have called if there had been an emergency requiring their attention.)
"Global Justice... That's a UN thing... You and Ron belong to Global Justice?"
"Ron and I don't belong to anyone but ourselves. But there are a number of places that sometimes ask for our assistance. They use different terms, but it's kind of like we're associate members."
"Well, if it's not a mission I'm not going to break anything. Can I at least come to the briefing? It's got to be better than watching TCM."
"It's not a mission, but you don't have security clearance."
"Why do you have to travel to a conference? Isn't there some kind of video chat or something?"
"Not enough encryption. Why have a briefing on Drakken or Dementor if they can listen in?"
"Drakken? Dementor?"
"Oh, they're the two baddies in today's briefing... Unless they've added someone else." Kim looked toward her open door and called, "Ron! Any updates from GJ?"
"Nope."
"Okay, get some of the filing done before… Hey, I think we just got an new office intern slash receptionist."
"We can't afford to hire a new staff person, and not enough work."
"Oh, I don't know if we have to pay her," Kim called, looking at Shego.
"No fucking way!" the green woman protested.
"I've never been a master before," Kim told her. "Does a genie usually receive a salary? What are the rules?"
"I don't know. I was in detention when they covered that. No one's ever offered me money… at least not for being a genie. I think it's part of the curse. You're going to find I do a really lousy job filing if you try and stick me with that. You just might never find a file again."
"You want to go on missions?"
"Yes!"
"Then you do a good job here and wait until we know a little more about what you can do."
In the other office Ron's phone rang, but the two women kept talking.
"So, how long is my sentence as office slave? You're making a big mistake, Princess, I can be all kinds of help."
"I'm not making a mistake. You're an unknown. Ron and I trust each other with our lives. We don't know if we can count on you."
"Hey, you can trust your body… life! I meant you can trust your life with me."
"Maybe someday. Not today. Not next mission. First we —"
Ron appeared at the door, "Emergency, Kim, hostage call for me. Chopper on way." He held up two pairs of boxer shorts, one with 'Hello Kitty' images and one with pink and red hearts. "Go with a new design or stick with my usual smiley face?"
"No 'Hello Kitty'. Ever. It'd get you shot. Stick with the smiley face. Do you need me? Should I cancel GJ?"
"Nah, police will have my back. Take notes for me."
He ducked back into his own office.
"Hostage call for Doofus?" Shego asked.
Kim shrugged. "Different kinds of hostage situations. Organized gang taking hostages we leave for SWAT teams or police. One or two frightened crooks hear police sirens and take someone at the store or bank hostage, I get called. Some guy with a history of mental instability takes a family member or neighbor hostage and Ron is great."
"What's with the boxers?"
"Ron goes up to the door wearing nothing but boxers, to show he doesn't have a weapon and carrying a box of donuts. Have you ever heard of a guy wearing just boxer shorts and carrying a box of donuts being shot?"
"No."
"See, they figure he's perfectly safe."
"They figure he's another nut case."
"Not nut cases. Mental health issues doesn't mean crazy."
"Does in my scroll."
"Well, get over that. It's insulting."
"And Ron is good at that?"
"Very good. He can usually talk the person into giving up their weapon and surrendering."
"Usually?"
"Twice he had to disarm the person. Once he just had to get out. Woman had a phobia about men and… Well, nothing but a pair of boxer shorts was a bad idea in that case. Every case is different."
"And potentially dangerous?"
"Maybe. He doesn't know until he gets there. Rufus goes in first with a little camera around his neck, but Ron has to think on his feet."
"So… If it's so dangerous, shouldn't Ron deserve backup? I know an older woman, in perfect shape, who'd do a wonderful job."
"No."
"He gets hurt and you'll blame yourself for not being there or sending backup."
Kim hesitated, and chewed her lower lip nervously. She wanted Ron to have backup. It wasn't a trust issue. Ron had proven himself many times, but every case was different. Who knows what he might face? On the other hand, would it be safer or more dangerous for Ron to have Shego there? Ron's strength was his ability to appear non-threatening and to put a frightened, delusional person at ease. Shego would be nothing but trouble for Ron. "No. No liability insurance. No credentials. You seem like a loose cannon, I don't know if you could take directions from Ron."
"Sure I could. Try me!"
"How about we see if you can take directions from me first? You stay here. You help Wade. You get the paperwork filed, and then Ron and I will start figuring out how you can be used most effectively."
They heard the sound of a helicopter and Ron called, "Ride's here," as he dashed out of the office.
Kim went to her window and looked out as the chopper landed and Ron ran over to it and climbed in.
"Ah, we're alone at last," Shego purred. "Want to find out how I can really be used most effectively." She teased down the zipper on her leather outfit about eight inches.
Kim turned and looked back at the window at the departing chopper, "Only if it involves filing paperwork."
"Hey, you could hurt my feelings," Shego pouted as she pulled the zipper back up. "You're really worried about your partner. Bad timing on my part. I should wait until he's back safe before I offer to jump your bones."
Kim almost smiled, "Yeah. Bad timing."
"So, Princess… When he's back, I've got a chance?"
"Depends on what you mean by chance… And if you mean what I think you mean—"
"And I suspect you do."
"I suspect the answer is 'no'."
"You got any skills at fortune telling?"
"No."
"Well, I'll take my chances. I can be utterly charming."
Wade arrived at the office before Kim left, and Kim informed Wade that Shego would be helping him organize files and screen phone calls to help evaluate priorities.
"Where's my desk and phone?" Shego sighed.
"I think you'll have to be on one side of the waiting room."
"That dinky space?"
"It's only temporary, remember? At least if you do a good job."
"Oh, it'll be real temporary," Shego promised.
"Okay," Kim told her, "Wade will—"
Wade interrupted, "Wade will tell you that you need to get to the airport," he warned Kim.
Kim glanced at her watch. "Right." She looked at Shego, "Listen to Wade."
"I'd listen better to you."
"I'm out of here. Wade's in charge."
The police brought Ron back to Middleton in the early afternoon. As he entered the office he called, "Wade! Still got half a dozen donuts. It went…" He stopped. He stared. A massive, ornate walnut desk in French Provincial style took up a large portion of the waiting area. He wasn't staring at the desk. Shego sat at the desk, filing her nails. The jacket she wore looked like business attire. The blouse might have been business attire, if the top four buttons had not been undone. The mini skirt was too short for business attire. Had her legs been under the desk Ron might not have known. But they were up on the desk, crossed at the ankles.
"Tongue back in your mouth," she advised. "And sign the report on your mission so we can send out a bill." She nodded to paper he hadn't noticed on the desk (for obvious reasons), "Two copies. One for our files, one for the billing department."
"But I haven't done my report."
"I did it for you. Sign."
Ron's signature was slightly shaky as he signed the paper. It was hard to concentrate with Shego's legs six inches from the report.
As he signed the copy Shego pulled a file folder from a drawer and stood up. She put one copy into a file tray marked, "To Do" and put the second copy into the folder. "Can I file something?" Shego called.
"YES!" Wade answered, far too fast and eagerly.
Ron followed Shego over to the door to Wade's office and looked in. Wade had the largest office, but a row of file cabinets took much of the space. Shego pulled open a bottom drawer and leaned over to file the folder. Ron felt his blood pressure shoot up. He was glad eighteen year old Wade had a healthy heart or the sight might have given him a heart attack.
"Thanks," Shego told Wade with a throaty whisper.
"No problem, anything I can do for you? Anything?"
"Uh, Shego," Ron interrupted, "about your outfit… I—"
"Wade okayed it," Shego assured him. She turned to the computer whiz, "Didn't you?"
Wade, staring at her chest, said nothing.
It was obvious to Ron that Shego figured this would force Kim to allow her to go on missions. He'd let Kim try and figure it out, she was the owner of the lamp.
"Donuts, anyone?"
"Sure," Wade answered.
"You?" he asked Shego.
"Sounds good – you need to make another pot of coffee."
"Fine." Ron sighed and headed for the break room.
While he was there Mr. Stephens was alerted to Ron's return and headed for the offices of Team Possible. He pushed open the outer door, "Mr. Stoppable, I want…" He stopped. He stared. "You! You were the woman in the shower!"
"What are you talking about?" Shego responded calmly.
"You know what I'm talking about! Behind that door!" He pointed at the new door, "This morning!"
Shego looked at him blankly. "I believe you need to talk with Mr. Stoppable. He's in the break room." She pointed in the proper direction and Mr. Stephens automatically glanced in the desired direction.
When he looked back the door which had been on the once blank wall was gone, and the wall was blank again.
"What door?" Shego asked.
The building manager stared at the wall. He moved over and felt it with his hands. He knocked on the wall. It was solid.
"Perhaps you've been working too hard," Shego suggested cheerfully.
"But… But… There was a door here."
"Oh, have you spoken with the people in the office next door?"
"Yes. I… The door was here."
"What door?"
He stood there, not sure what was happening. Ron stepped out from the break area. "Mr. Stephens, can I help you?"
"He was just leaving," Shego said. "He feels a little confused."
"There was a door there," Mr. Stephens insisted angrily. "And you were in the shower or something. You were wearing a towel."
"Guys undress me with their eyes all the time," Shego commented to Ron. "At least he left me a towel."
"You," the building manager barked at Ron. "You were there! You saw her!"
Ron adopted a puzzled look, "Where?"
"Right there!"
"Uh, there's no door there."
"I'm leaving, but I'll get to the bottom of this!" the manager threatened and stormed from the office.
"Coffee will be done in a minute," Ron called to Wade.
"What did Mr. Stephens want?"
"He wanted to see me naked," Shego answered.
"That wasn't what he wanted," Ron told Wade, "He—"
"He doesn't want to see me naked?" Shego asked. "Oh, he's like that?"
"This from the woman who's trying to get Kim in bed?"
"Entirely different," Shego assured him.
"I'll get the coffee."
Rufus sat on Shego's desk and ate his donut. Shego remained seated on her desk chair. Ron had correctly assumed that the Baccarat crystal cup with the jewel-encrusted gold handle was hers. He and Wade stood beside the desk and Ron narrated details of his mission. The two men had their usual coffee mugs. Ron wasn't positive but it appeared Wade had chosen his location based on the angle it offered for peering down Shego's blouse.
Ron tried to think of a good suggestion to help Kim with the Shego problem. The only idea he could come up involved calling Bonnie Rockwaller and asking her if she wanted an antique lamp.
