STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The characters of Kim Possible, Dr. James Timothy Possible, Dr. Anne Possible, Jim and Tim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Wade Load, Steve Barkin, Bonnie Rockwaller, Monique, Tara, Felix Renton, Rufus the Naked Mole Rat, Drew "Dr. Drakken" Lipsky, Shego, Dr. Dementor, Lord Montgomery "Monkey Fist" Fiske, Señor Senior Senior, Señor Senior Junior, Dr. Betty Director, Special Agent Will Du, Global Justice and any and all other minor characters/locations from the television series Kim Possible are the sole property of the Walt Disney Corporation, and are used herein without permission or contest to their ownership for the sole purpose of personal, non-profit entertainment. Any and all minor characters that have not appeared in the television series, and this storyline, are the sole creation and property of the author and may not be reproduced without prior consent (if you want to post it, just ask).
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters herein to any person or character, real or fictional (those mentioned above notwithstanding), living or dead, is strictly coincidental.
A/N: First off, I wanted to take a second to thank those of you that reviewed the prologue for this story; your support has convinced me that this may actually be worth pursuing... as is evident with Chapter One making its appearance. In this chapter, we'll get a bit more insight as to what exactly caused Shego (or Kate, as she's now known) to turn her back on Drakken and her life of crime. Hopefully it meets the readers' expectations.
Second: Be forewarned, this chapter does contain some mild language. I don't think it's gratuitous or worthy of upping the rating to "M," however it is there, and as such, fair warning has been given.
Without further ado: on with the story!
CHAPTER ONE
Kim Possible was a morning person—always had been, always would be, and nobody or nothing was going to change that. Nothing was more invigorating to the teenage dynamo than getting up at the first crack of dawn and going for a jog in the brisk morning air that was common in the Colorado foothills.
That being said, even morning people have the odd morning in which they'd rather just bury their heads under the covers for another hour or three, and the morning following her very eventful graduation was one of those for the young hero, groaning in what one could easily call disappointment as the first rays of sunlight made their way across her face, causing her to scowl and roll over, turning her back to the offending piece of glass that dared allow light into her loft—and face-to-face with…
"Ron!" she exclaimed, snapping fully awake—not to mention fully upright in her bed. Sure enough, the tow-headed, freckled face of Ron Stoppable was laying right beside her, sound asleep, the covers pulled up to his chin.
Kim's mind went reeling. Not that she minded the idea of Ron sleeping beside her—in fact, that part she rather liked. No, what was bothering Kim was the sudden images of her father, the family patriarch, coming up through the hatch in her floor to announce breakfast in his usual jovial manner, followed by his bodily dragging the other man in her life from the bed, the room, the house… and directly into the capsule of a deep-space probe.
Forcing herself to take a couple of deep breaths, Kim regained enough poise to take stock of the situation. Judging by the angle which the sun's rays were entering her window, she knew it had to be early—early enough, if she was lucky, for her to wake Ron up and sneak him out of the house before anybody was the wiser. As her eyes wandered, they fell on her alarm clock, causing her to breathe a sigh of relief—5:47. Her dad wasn't likely to get up for the better part of an hour, giving her time to relax and get Ron out of there without having to rush things.
Slipping from the bed as quietly as she could (given how peaceful Ron looked, she didn't have the heart to wake him just yet), Kim padded to the bathroom to answer the slightly more urgent call of nature that had made itself known once her adrenaline had quit pumping quite so hard. As she sat, she tried to replay the events that led to her and Ron sharing her bed for the night. Okay, Agent Dawson picked up She—Kate; Ron and I went with our parents to dinner; we came back here… Ron and I went for a drive and got back at around midnight—Daddy didn't seem to mind that; we decided to watch a movie in the den…
…and then it dawned on her. "And we fell asleep on the couch," she said aloud, flushing as she did so. So how did we end up in my bed?
Returning to the bedroom, she found her answer in the form of a note, folded up next to her alarm clock. Picking it up, Kim instantly recognized the flowy cursive of her mother before she even began reading it (Anne Possible was the only medical doctor Kim knew of with legible handwriting).
"Kimmie, you've probably discovered by now that you've got a slightly bigger cuddle-buddy than Panda-roo tonight… DON'T FREAK OUT. Your Dad and I both know… we're the ones that brought you to your bed instead of leaving you to wake up with stiff necks in the morning (you were so out of it I didn't think you'd remember, hence the note). Don't get used to it by any means… but don't think it'll never happen again, either.
"Breakfast will be at 9; the boys are camping with some friends and your father and I have every intention of sleeping in till at least 8… I suggest you two do the same.
"Love, Mom."
Smiling, Kim replaced the note where she found it on her nightstand and climbed back into bed. Ron had rolled over while she was gone, apparently trying to get away from the nuisance that was the sun's rays making their way steadily across his face; now laying a strip of golden light through his hair. As quietly and stealthily as she could, Kim drew the covers back over herself, pulling them just enough so there was none of the material between her and her boyfriend, allowing her to snuggle tightly into him, her right arm draped around his midsection. Sighing happily, she drifted off once again, more than content with her current sleeping arrangements.
Ron was vaguely aware that something was different. For one thing, the old bed in his room wasn't as comfortable as this little piece of heaven he was currently laying on. Second of all, he could have sworn his mother had painted his room's walls in an off-white color—was it eggshell or frosty morning—and not the powder-pink color of the walls he could barely see through his one half-open eye. Slowly, his brain started putting clues together.
Pink walls…
Who do I know that has pink walls?
That's easy—Kim's room is pink.
Kim's room…
OH CRAP!
Like a shot, Ron sat bolt upright, confirming his suspicion—not to mention his fear. Oh, man, he thought, if Mister Doctor P comes up here, I'm on a one-way trip to Andromeda!
Just about then, Ron's brain registered two more things: the arm wrapped firmly around his midsection and the soft, gentle voice of his girlfriend in his ear. "Calm down, there, tiger; it's okay," she said, placing her other hand gently against his chest.
"B-b-but, Kim, your dad—" Ron began, his eyes still wide in fear. Kim reached across him to where the note from her mother lay on the nightstand, unfolding it as she brought it to where he could see.
"It's okay, honey," she whispered, "Mom and Dad brought us up here, rather than us sleeping on the couch all night… it's not something we should get used to, but for today, it's okay." Feeling the tension leave Ron's body, she loosened her grip around his waist and on his chest, lying back down, her head propped on her arm. "Now lay back down here so I can cuddle with you while I've got the chance," she said, a soft smile gracing her face.
Ron returned the smile, settling back onto the mattress, turning himself to face his girlfriend. "Maybe I'm not supposed to get used to this… but it sure wouldn't be hard to," he said softly, slipping his left arm around Kim's waist and drawing her in closer. Kim smiled softly, humming an affirmative as she pressed her lips to his, running her right hand through his hair before moving it to rest on his cheek, her thumb gently tracing over the freckles under his left eye. A few lighter, soft kisses were traded between them before they once again settled into their pillows, their noses barely two inches apart.
"Ron?" Kim said softly, her hand once again gently caressing his cheek. His eyes were closed, but she could tell he was still at least partly awake.
"Yeah, KP?" he replied, not bothering to open his eyes, content to savor the sensation of her hand on his skin.
"Do you remember what I said during my speech last night… when I was looking at you?"
"You mean about never being afraid to tell somebody how you feel about them?"
"Yeah," Kim replied, gently nuzzling Ron's nose with her own, "that."
Ron nodded his head—just enough that Kim would notice—and opened his eyes to look at her. "I do remember," he said, "and you're right. We shouldn't be afraid to tell the important people in our lives how we feel about them." Bringing his hands up, he cupped her face in them with the gentlest of touches, his fingertips brushing her hairline. "I love you, Kim Possible," he whispered, his eyes locked to hers.
"I love you too, Ron Stoppable," she replied, her green orbs misting over as she tipped her head towards him, kissing him tenderly one more time. "Now, what say we grab a little more shut-eye before we have breakfast with Mom and Dad?"
"Sounds like a bon-diggity idea to me," Ron whispered, a content smile on his face. With a soft kiss to her forehead, Ron turned around so his back was to Kim, allowing her to wrap her arm around his waist; her hand on his midriff, his hand automatically on top of hers, fingers interwoven. It was a matter of moments before the young couple was once again fast asleep, safe in each other's arms.
Doctor Anne Possible, like her daughter Kim, was a morning person—always had been, always would be. Unlike Kim, however, this morning was no exception. Almost as if they were on a timer, her eyes opened promptly at six-fifteen, revealing the dawn of the new day to her. At first she considered rolling over and snuggling into her husband, but instead decided to get up and get a bit of a headstart on breakfast… considering she had both of Middleton's bottomless pits to feed (Rufus' reputation almost matched that of his master).
Silently slipping from under the covers, she grabbed her bathrobe from its hook on the inside of the bedroom door and slipped it on before exiting the bedroom, closing the door as quietly as she could behind her, leaving James to his slumber. With a practiced ease that could only come from being a mother of three and a world-famous neurosurgeon, Anne made her way through the house without a sound, her slippers silent against the hardwood floors.
As she made her way down the hall, Anne allowed herself a quick moment to savor the silence in the house… something that had been more or less a novelty in the past eighteen years. Not only did she and James start out with one "spirited" (as James liked to phrase it) daughter, but four and a half years later, a pair of rambunctious super-geniuses followed, making quiet time for she and her husband of twenty years next to non-existent—hence excursions like the one she and James took two years previous. Make no mistake, she loved her children—and, by extension, Ron—but every once in awhile it was nice to only have silence for a companion.
For what seemed like the millionth time, Anne's face spread into an involuntary grin as the thought of Kim and Ron together crossed her mind. She had watched the two grow up—mostly from within the walls of this very house—and knew that they were meant for each other. They complemented each other in ways many couples could only dream. Where Ron came up short, Kim would shine; and should Kim ever falter, Ron was always right there, two steps behind and ready to support her in any way he could. In just about every way conceivable, Kim and Ron were two halves of a whole—and seeing them together and as madly in love as they were made Anne's heart soar.
Unable to resist, Anne changed course from the kitchen; making a detour to the flight of stairs that led to the hatch of Kim's loft bedroom. Silently, she made her way up the stairs until her head was mere inches below the closed hatch. Listening for a moment, she waited until she was sure the two teenagers were still asleep before gently lifting the hatch just enough to peek into the bedroom; the scene meeting her eyes almost exactly what she expected. Smiling brightly, she raised the hatch further, ascending the stairs until she was high enough to get a better look.
They were lying facing the hatchway, spooned together, the covers only just above their waists. Kim was behind Ron, her right arm wrapped tightly around his midriff, his right hand atop hers. Anne wasn't completely sure, but she thought it looked like Kim's other arm was tucked under Ron's pillow, allowing them to be that much closer together as they lay. Anne was about to make her way back down the stairs and resume her previous journey to the kitchen when her daughter stirred, raising her head just enough to see over Ron.
"Mom?" she muttered in a voice thick with sleep.
"Good morning, Kimmie," Anne whispered, taking another step up, allowing her a clearer view of the younger redhead, not to mention allowing Kim a clearer view of the ear-to-ear smile that her mother was wearing.
Kim returned the smile, casting a quick glance at Ron to make sure he was still asleep before speaking again. "What're you doing up so early? I thought you and Dad were going to sleep in?"
"We were going to—your father's still dead to the world—but I was wide-awake, so I figured I'd get a start on breakfast. Even though Jim and Tim aren't home, Ron and Rufus will more than make up for them and I'd like to make sure everybody's got enough," Anne replied, her eyes moving fondly to the tow-headed young man as she spoke.
"Do you want me to come help you?" Kim asked.
"No!" Anne exclaimed, a little louder and hastier than she intended. While Kim Possible's website proudly proclaimed I Can Do Anything, the phrase most definitely didn't extend to her abilities in the kitchen; her past attempt resulting in the only time the Middleton Fire Department had answered a call to the Possible residence that wasn't a direct result of her brothers' experiments. Quickly recovering, Anne continued. "I've got lots of time to have everything ready for when you get up. Just because I'm up early doesn't mean I'm going to move breakfast to seven-thirty. You just relax with Ron and come down for nine, okay?"
Kim once again smiled at her mother; the hastiness with which the Possible family matriarch had refused Kim's help was not lost on the young woman, but at the same time she would never deny that kitchen prowess was definitely more Ron's specialty than her own. Smiling, she merely nodded. "Okay," she said simply. Her mother returned the smile, and was about to head back down the stairs when her daughter spoke again. "Mom?" she whispered, almost too soft for Anne to hear.
"Yeah, Kim?"
"Thanks," she said, her smile even wider, "for everything."
Returning the smile, Anne said nothing; giving her daughter a quick wink as she moved to leave. Kim watched her mother slowly disappear through the hatchway, the smile never leaving her face. Only when the hatch's cover silently lowered did Kim settle back into the mattress, once again snuggling as close to Ron as she could, and within moments rejoined him in the arms of Morpheus.
Kim and Ron weren't the only ones enjoying peaceful slumber at the moment. Kate Gogh was still soundly asleep in the ladies' barracks at Global Justice, taking full advantage of the comforts of the facilities made available to her. For the first time in who knows how long, the former villainess was able to fully enjoy a soothing, hot shower, followed by a night of comfortable slumber in a high-quality bed. When her eyes fluttered open, her first instinct was to simply roll over and forget the fact she'd even woken up; but she knew she had a meeting with Dr. Director at seven-thirty. Gazing at the clock until her eyes focused, Kate saw the green 6:18 glowing back at her and realized that if she didn't get up now, she wouldn't get up in time for the meeting.
"Why do these stupid meetings always have to be so doggone early?" she groused to herself, slipping out of the bed and making her way to the bathroom; luxuriating in the lush carpet under her bare feet—something else she hadn't had a chance to do since her Drakken days. One thing was for certain; going straight did have its perks. Speaking of perks, I should put a pot of coffee on before I do anything else, she mused, detouring to the kitchen to start the coffee brewing. When she'd arrived, Kate expected to be, at best, supplied with directions to the nearest commissary; she was pleasantly surprised to discover her quarters already stocked with various foodstuffs and necessities, allowing her to prepare her own meals. Thinking further, however, she realized that would have been the most prudent choice on their part if they wanted to keep an eye on her... a fact that she was well aware of.
Following a quick shower, Kate returned to the bedroom and started browsing through the closet, deciding on what to wear. Doctor Director had also taken the liberty of having Kate's quarters stocked with several outfits of various descriptions, giving her some options aside from what had quickly gained notoriety as her Carmen Sandiego getup. Finally, she selected a black two-piece suit and a green blouse (just because she wasn't Shego anymore didn't mean green wasn't still her favorite color) with a stylish cut that complemented her figure even better than she'd suspected. Maybe Betty Director does have fashion sense, she thought, giving herself a quick once-over in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. Now the hard part, she thought as she re-entered the bathroom, what do I do with my hair? If I leave it alone, I'll still look like Shego… maybe I should brush it different?
After several failed experiments with quick hairstyles (Kate soon discovered her hair didn't like to deviate from its natural part), frustration won out and her raven locks were soon in a ponytail at the base of her skull, held in place by a faux-jade hair clip. I'll have to do something more permanent to it later; I can't wear ponytails all the time. Exiting the bathroom, she checked the clock on the wall opposite the bathroom door. Ten minutes to seven—perfect, she thought, a pleased smirk gracing her features as she returned to the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of the freshly-brewed java. Wow, it's actually good went through her mind as she sipped her first taste of the dark liquid. Sure beats that bargain-basement stuff Little Boy Blue always made me get.
And so Kate Gogh sat, contemplating the somewhat unexpected turn her life had taken in the past seventy-two hours. Sure, she'd only spoken to Kim and made her move the previous night, but her plans had been in the making during the two days leading up to that point. In some ways, the process had—so far, anyway—been easier than she'd suspected. She expected a much harder time convincing the authorities that her desires to turn her life around were genuine, and not some scheme devised by Drakken to lull said authorities into a sense of security while he put together his next scheme. At the same time, she realized that Global Justice was probably still thinking along those lines, at least in part, until they had proof otherwise. Until then, Kate was sure that while she may have a comfortable barracks to stay in, she was, for all intents and purposes, a prisoner. She hoped that following her meeting with Dr. Director, and the subsequent one that evening that would include Kim and Ron, she would be able to convince them that her intentions were indeed true.
Halfway through her second cup of the surprisingly good coffee (it seemed to get even better with each sip), the doorbell to her barracks rang. That's probably my ride, Kate mused as she went to answer the door. Taking a quick peek through the peephole, she saw Agent Dawson on the other side, confirming her suspicion. Kate took a breath, attempting to calm her nerves as she unlocked the door, opening it in one fluid motion.
"Good morning, Miss Gogh," Dawson said, smiling politely. "I'm here to escort you to your meeting with Doctor Director."
"And here I thought I was going to have to fend for myself," Kate replied, sounding almost like her former persona, but with a glint of humor in her eye to go with the smirk on her face.
"Hardly," Dawson replied with a chuckle. "If nothing else, the Global Justice complex is, for all intents and purposes, a maze; and getting lost on your way to a meeting with the top dog of Global Justice would not be beneficial to your cause."
"I can only imagine," Kate said. "Just let me grab a pair of shoes and I'll be right with you."
"No problem," Dawson said, stepping inside the door to wait for Kate to find footwear suitable to wear with her suit. When she'd found the suit and blouse, she didn't notice shoes on the floor, but she brushed it off as not looking for shoes at the time.
This time, however, she was looking for shoes… and there still weren't any in the closet. She gets me a new wardrobe, but doesn't get shoes? Talk about no attention to detail.
"Miss Gogh?" Dawson called. "Is there a problem?"
"Yeah, I've got two weeks' worth of outfits in this place, and not a single damn pair of shoes!" Kate retorted, shaking her head as she re-emerged from the bedroom.
"Maybe they're in this closet?" Dawson ventured, nodding to a door on his immediate left, his hand already on the knob. "May I?"
"Be my guest," Kate replied, motioning with her hand at the same time. Dawson opened the door, and revealed another closet. Smaller than the one in the bedroom, this closet was almost empty save for the trench coat she had been wearing the previous night and various pairs of shoes on the floor… which the green-hued woman noticed almost immediately. "Leave it to me," she muttered, running a hand over her face as she grabbed a pair of black, modest heels and slipped them on, mumbling an embarrassed "thank-you" to Dawson as she did so.
"No problem," he replied, opening the door. "Shall we?"
"Sure," Kate exhaled, stepping out ahead of the special agent, "might as well get this over with."
"I really don't think you have anything to worry about," Dawson said as they made their way down the hall. "From what I've seen and heard, you're either truly turning over a new leaf or you're more deserving of an Oscar than Sally Field ever was."
"Thanks… I think," Kate replied, casting an awkward glance towards the man. "Hopefully Doctor Director takes me seriously when we get in there."
"Well, this meeting will be strictly between you and Doctor Director," Dawson said. "She wanted to have a preliminary meeting with you before the one with Miss Possible and Mister Stoppable."
"Probably wants to feel me out and see if I'm pulling the wool over Princess' eyes," Kate muttered. "Guess that's the price you pay when you're a villain as long as I've been."
"Especially one that was a hero and turned bad," Dawson said, immediately slapping his hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry, that just slipped out."
"Hey, I made my bed," Kate said with a non-committal shrug, "I know what I was… both versions; but I also know what I am now."
"If you answer Doctor Director's questions the way you're talking to me now, I honestly think you won't have any problems whatsoever," Dawson offered with a smile. Kate saw that and smiled back.
"I sure hope so."
A few moments later, Special Agent Dawson and Kate arrived in front of a non-descript oak door; the only feature on it the brass nameplate that read DR. BETTY DIRECTOR. Dawson turned to Kate before knocking.
"I'll go in first and announce you, then I'll come out and send you in," he said. When Kate nodded, Dawson went ahead and knocked, entering when beckoned. Muffled voices could be heard briefly, then the door opened again, Dawson coming back out. "Go ahead; she's ready," was all he said, holding the door open for Kate. Nodding her thanks, the mint-skinned woman took a deep breath to calm her nerves before stepping across the threshold into Dr. Director's office.
"Good morning, Miss Gogh; I trust you slept well?" Director said once the door closed behind Kate.
"Yeah, I did," Kate replied, standing in the middle of the Spartan office. "Sure beat the hell outta the mouse-holes I had to deal with before."
"Please, have a seat," Director said, motioning to one of the three comfortable-looking chairs directly in front of her desk. Kate hesitated before slowly making her way to the center seat, her nerves still wound tight. After all, just because she said she wanted to go straight didn't mean that Dr. Director—or anybody else, for that matter—believed her… at least; not yet.
Trying to maintain an air of confidence, Kate settled into the chair as best she could, leaning back and crossing her legs in an attempt to appear cool and collected. "So… what say we get right to it?" she said, her voice steady. "Why the one-on-one before Kim and Ron get here?"
"I suspected you'd wish to get straight to brass tacks," Director said, a bemused smirk on her face. "Very well; the reason I've asked you here this morning is to get some preliminary information—namely, what caused you to decide it was time to put crime behind you?"
"I can't say for one hundred percent certain," Kate replied, "but the thought first crossed my mind after the run-in we had with Electronique about eight months ago. Granted, I got on my own nerves sometimes with just how sweet that Miss Go was, but at the same time, there was something about that time in my life that seemed, I dunno… right."
"How do you mean?"
"Like I said, I'm not sure… but after I got zapped the last time and turned back into my old self… something just didn't seem right anymore. I just kept it stuffed inside and followed the status quo—Drakken would come up with a half-baked scheme, I'd make fun of him, Kim would come along, we'd fight for awhile, she'd finally kick our asses and we'd do it all over again.
"Two weeks ago that same scenario played itself out again… but it was different after Drakken's scheme went up in smoke. Instead of ranting, raving and screaming, he just went quiet; like he crawled into a shell." Kate chuckled before she continued. "At first I was thankful for the silence… he was always annoying, but he was the most annoying right after a failed scheme. After the Diablo's, he was almost impossible to be around.
"Anyway, like I said; at first, I was glad for the peace and quiet. He left me alone, and I didn't press the issue. I figured that once he needed me, he'd come get me and I'd do whatever I was asked to do."
"How long did it go on before you were suspicious?"
"About two weeks," Kate said, her shoulders slumping slightly, "then the silence got to be too much. I tried asking him what his new plans were, and he just mumbled something about Kim Possible and it's all her fault. Instead of trying to decipher him, I just let it drop and went back to my usual hurry-up-and-wait mode."
"Something had to convince you that this was the course of action to take; what was it?"
"Well, like I said, I'd started wondering ever since the run-in with Electronique, but I was ignoring those bouts of conscience… and I was actually doing quite well with that up to the point where curiosity got the better of me and I decided to find out on my own just what the hell Drakken's game was.
"Three nights ago, I waited for him to go to bed—almost fell asleep myself waiting—then went to his workstation and started trying to dig up dirt on his plans. Normally he has his whole plan laid out on his computer before he does anything with it—don't ask me how somebody so meticulous at planning can always forget some stupid-ass detail that ends up biting him in the end; I'm not sure myself.
"Anyway, I got fishing around… and at first I found absolutely bupkus, which frustrated me even worse. I probably dug around for a half-hour before I found anything."
"Is what you found the deciding factor?"
"Yeah," Kate said, her expression darkening. "Drew Lipsky plans to kill Kim Possible."
Unlike Kim, Director did not burst into laughter when Kate shared this information with her. Instead, she merely sat behind her desk, hands folded in front of her, her own expression darkening. "Why would this make you decide to change sides, Miss Gogh? Everybody knows that you and Kim Possible have been bitter rivals ever since your first encounter."
"Kim asked the same question," Kate said with a slight chuckle, "and I'll give you the same answer I gave her: while we've fought tooth-and-nail several times over the past few years, not once did I ever want her dead. Truth be told… she was the only adversary I ever had that presented a challenge… and I loved it. Thrived on it, even… and to be honest, I think Kim did, too."
Again, Director sat in silence for a long time, her mind processing the information the woman formerly known as Shego had provided her with. When she finally spoke, it was with the same calm voice she'd used since Kate had entered her office. "I'll be honest," she began, choosing her words carefully, "when Kim first contacted me last evening to make her request, I was more than a bit skeptical. Quite frankly, Miss Gogh, your reputation precedes you in many circles; Global Justice included.
"However, given the answers you've provided to my questions, I'm more inclined to believe you than I was twelve hours ago. I trust Kim's judgment of character, but at the same time, I had to make sure you weren't taking advantage of her inherent trust by merely acting like you wanted to change your ways."
Kate nodded, understanding the older woman's stance. As Director had said, her reputation preceded her; and likely would for a long time to come. Even if she was successful in proving her desire to change her ways and live an honest life from here on out, it would be some time before she won the trust of all those she'd wronged before. "Thank you," was all she could say, "for believing me."
"I'm not what one would call a proud woman," Director replied, "but one thing I do pride myself on is my judge of character. I can usually tell if somebody's trying, quite frankly, to bullshit me; and I don't feel that in this case. Having said that… if you are, you will suffer the complete and utter wrath of Global Justice—once you've been given your Academy Award."
Kate nodded again, this time with a bit more confidence as she saw the glint of humor in Director's good eye. At the same time, she realized that what she'd been told wasn't a threat, but a promise—one that she was sure Director would have no problem in carrying out should it come to light that Kate really was feeding everybody a cock-and-bull story. "No need to nominate me for Oscar night," she said, smiling, "but I wouldn't mind getting a chance to go to one of the after-parties."
"At least you've still got the wit Shego was famous for," Director laughed, then continued; the smile still gracing her features. "I think we're done here. I'll have Agent Dawson escort you back to your barracks until we meet again tonight, when Miss Possible and Mister Stoppable join us." Standing, she motioned for Kate to follow her to the door, where Agent Dawson was waiting just outside. Director instructed the agent of her wishes, and shook Kate's hand, thanking her for the information she'd provided before sending the two on their way, watching until they turned a corner before returning to her office.
