Like the Real Thing

XX

What was once a lunch room was now a mine field.

Kim turned from the counter, tray of gray mystery meat and creamed spinach in hand, and surveyed the dangers before her. Jocks at the table over there; best to avoid them. Bonnie Rockwaller at a another table nearby, eating with some of the cheerleaders; she'd have something to say, like she always did. Kim decided there was no avoiding comments if she wanted to get to where Monique, Ron, and Felix were already sitting. She stepped into the fray.

Of course, she had already been dealing with gossip and under-the-table rumor over the last couple of days, but it wasn't getting any easier. Lunch was probably the worst time – people had a lot of free time to talk amongst themselves, class wasn't about to start, and the gossip flew thick and heavy. And ever since the Queen Bee of Middleton High School gossip had found Kim with her incriminating book, people had had a lot to talk about. Kim hadn't even gotten halfway to her friends before the tanned terror caught sight of her.

"Hey, K!" shouted Bonnie, her voice bringing the lunch room's usual chatter to a lull. "Nice cheer practice yesterday, but could you be a little less grabby when you're getting to the top of the human pyramid?"

It was unfortunate that Kim was feeling very hungry, because she had a sudden urge to fling her tray right in Bonnie's face. For the sake of her stomach, she resisted the impulse. A couple of the cheerleaders who were closer to Bonnie snickered, casting brief glances in Kim's direction before looking back down at the table.

"Come on," said Tara meekly, pulling on Bonnie's sleeve. "Leave her alone."

Kim was happy to hear one of her teammates defending her, at least. But she didn't linger long enough to hear anything else. She hurried over to the lunch table where her friends were sitting, experiencing the eerie feeling of eyes trailing her all the way there. Ron and Felix looked a little confused. Felix probably didn't have a lot of details, not being big on school gossip, and her boyfriend pretty much always looked confused – but Monique, obviously having been one of the first to be in the know, raised a sympathetic eyebrow.

"So what's the deal, if you don't mind me asking?" asked Felix. "People have been saying stuff lately."

Kim poked lazily at her mystery meat. "I don't mind you asking, but I'd kinda rather just eat, actually."

"That's cool."

Kim caught a look from Ron that managed to package curiosity, fear, and concern into one. Monique said nothing, but Kim could tell her friend was well aware of all the chatter on the school grapevine, although she hadn't actually told Monique about the incident with the book yet. She wondered if her friend was too weirded out to bring it up over the last few days. She cursed her bad luck – she never should have gone to Smarty Mart's Self-Exploration aisle. Most of those books were just a big scam, anyway.

"So, girl," said Monique hesitantly, "are we uh – are we still on for the mall this afternoon?"

"Of course," said Kim. "Why wouldn't we be?"

Monique shrugged.

"What are you guys gonna do there?" asked Ron.

Monique gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. "Girl stuff, Ron. You wouldn't understand."

Kim blushed a little, interpreting Monique's comment in the way she was sure her friend didn't mean, and Monique caught the reaction. It was hard to tell if she was blushing under her dark complexion, but Kim was pretty sure the two of them were equally embarrassed. At least Monique didn't seem to be judging her. Kim made up her mind – she needed to talk about things to someone. She would have to have a good chat with Monique after they checked out Club Banana's latest selection.

"Hey, Stoppable," said Felix. "We still on for some zombie bashing at my place?"

"You know it."

"Excellent."

Their conversation trailed off, and Kim dug into the mystery meat. Lukewarm, rubbery, and a little bit mottled; whatever animal had died to create it wasn't a mystery she wanted to solve. The creamed spinach, however, was surprisingly decent. Kim ate in silence, not feeling up for a lot of conversation. While her friends engaged in the occasional small talk, she couldn't help noticing all the times one of her classmates, sitting at an adjacent table, would shoot her a furtive glance. Every time she saw a group of her classmates talking amongst themselves, she couldn't help wondering if she was the subject.

Was that narcissistic? She wasn't sure.

She had always been used to being the popular girl. Only Bonnie posed a threat in the social arena, and despite Kim's insecurities, she was pretty sure Bonnie wasn't as popular. But everything was in limbo now. Where did she stand with her classmates? What did they think of her, if they all thought she was a lesbian or something? Kim didn't even know what she was, really. Reading books hadn't been helpful. Searching the internet had brought up a huge amount of information, but most of it wasn't exactly useful for self-actualization. Just self-titillation. Even that awkward moment with Bonnie in the shower hadn't really given her much to go by – it seemed like she found Bonnie attractive, but was that really a sexual thing?

The only thing Kim knew for sure was that Shego brought out a reaction in her. It was something raw, animal, not like anything she had felt with Ron. Whether that meant she was a lesbian, bisexual, interested in Shego, not interested in Ron, all or some of the above, she didn't know. And she hated not knowing.

Lost in her thoughts, Kim almost didn't hear the ring of the bell ending their lunch period. She only noticed when her friends got up from the table.

"Hey, KP," said Ron, "time for class!"

"Oh, right."

The four of them threw their trash away and piled trays at the pickup spot at the end of the lunch counters, following the wave of their classmates as they made their way to their next class. Kim said goodbye to her friends. She had to make a stop at her locker; she opened the door, lingering, staring at the blank monitor inside as her fellow students milled around in the hallway. She had been so distracted lately. The thought of getting through another class when she had this weight, these unanswered questions, hanging over her head like storm clouds...

"Hey."

Kim tilted her head back and looked past her open locker door to see her boyfriend standing beside her.

"Hey, Ron. What's up?"

Ron looked around the hallway. Kim had been standing at her locker for a few moments, and the hallway was almost clear. Her boyfriend cleared his throat awkwardly. "Look, KP," he said, "I just, uh – I dunno, I thought we could talk about stuff."

"What, like, now?"

"Sure. I didn't wanna press you, but I guess it's been freaking me out a little. The weird stuff people have been saying about you – what's going on? You'd be honest with me, right?"

"Of course, Ron."

"Is any of it true, then?"

"I dunno what they've been saying. It's just that-"

Ron waited as Kim struggled with her words.

"I've just been a little confused, Ron. Ever since all that awkweird stuff with Shego and the synthodrone she made to look like me, you know? I guess it caught me off guard."

"Sure," said Ron. "It was pretty freaky. But, I mean, that's all it was, right? You've been acting so weird ever since that day, and then when you were fighting Shego at Hench Co - I don't know. Does she bother you more than normal after the synthodrone thing or something?"

That's one way to put it, Kim thought.

She didn't want to hurt her boyfriend, but Ron seemed to know it as well as she did – she was having doubts. Doubts about the two of them. Kim just didn't know how to say that without getting Ron riled up, as she knew her boyfriend was easily excitable. It wasn't like she wanted to break up or anything – she just needed to think. But how to tell that to Ron, without coming off like-

"Possible! Stoppable! NO MORE LOITERING!"

Mr. Barkin came storming up from around a corner, his footsteps ringing as he approached his students. Ron shrank back a little. "No worries, Mr. B," he said. "Just having a little chat with my lady!"

"I can see that, Stoppable."

Kim was about to join her boyfriend and head to class when Mr. Barkin extended a hand to stop her. "One second," he said. "Possible, do you mind having a chat with me in my office?"

"Sure, Mr. Barkin. But don't you need to cover math?"

"Negative! Mrs. Fibonacci has returned from her skin surgery."

"Good to hear," said Ron. "Who'd have thought cheese graters could be so potentially lethal?"

"Anything is lethal in the wrong hands, Stoppable. ESPECIALLY cheese graters."

Kim coughed to get their attention back on track.

"Right," said Mr. Barkin. "Come with me, Possible."

"Alright. Well, bye, Ron!"

Kim followed her teacher down the hallway, glancing back at her boyfriend as he gave her a halfhearted wave before heading off to class. It felt bad to know she hadn't offered much of an explanation. It was hard, dealing with Ron, trying not to hurt him when her own feelings were so lost, floating somewhere beyond her grasp. She couldn't help worrying as she joined Mr. Barkin in an administrative office and took the seat he offered to her.

"Possible," said Mr. Barkin, "I'll cut to the chase. I'm worried about you."

"About me? Worried about what?"

"Your grades, Possible. You've taken a couple of pop quizzes in the last week or two, turned in a paper – they're slipping. This concerns me."

"Slipping? I don't remember getting anything below a C plus recently."

"Yeah, and when have you ever gotten ANYTHING below an A minus? And that was just the one time!"

Kim frowned. Her teacher had a point.

"I've been hearing some strange stuff on the student grapevine, too. Sexual identity issues, that kind of thing. I'm not the school counselor, but since she's been mysteriously missing for months now, I AM here to provide advice, should you need it. Do you, uh – do you want to talk about it?"

Mr. Barkin's voice lowered, as if he was trying to sound confidential, but it came off as kind of creepy. It was obvious that just offering to listen to Kim's personal problems was taking a toll on her teacher. Mr. Barkin almost seemed to be twitching nervously in anticipation of talking about something he probably didn't want to talk about. Kim couldn't help smiling; she didn't want to put him through that, despite all her teacher put her and Ron through. Ron in particular. She knew that, whatever problems she was having, she needed to deal with them herself.

"I'll take that as a no," said Mr. Barkin. "I hope people like Rockwaller aren't getting to you. You can't let those people drag you down – you have to be strong, Possible. Only losers whine about being picked on."

"I haven't been whining," said Kim.

"Theoretically, I meant."

Mr. Barkin grew silent for a moment, templing his fingers together as he sat at his desk, his massive bulk barely fitting into his chair. He seemed to be thinking about how best to approach his student's problems. Kim sympathized. She definitely had no idea how to approach her own problems.

"Possible," he said, "you have to be careful about your academic performance. I have higher standards for you than the other students. High School is mostly a holding pen for the unwashed masses, but occasionally there's a half competent student like yourself."

"Thanks, Mr. Barkin. That means a lot."

"You know what I mean, Possible. Now, you have to think about life after high school – colleges are more demanding nowadays. If you're trying to get into an Ivy League, even the slightest slip could knock you off their list. Another B on a paper and you could end up at Middleton Community, learning how to farm pig slop. Another C plus and you could be shredded by broken windshield glass, skidding over the highway after the cops blow out your tires in a high speed car chase!"

Kim thought that was a bit of an exaggeration. Didn't windshields have some kind of lamination so they could crack without shattering nowadays? She didn't really like to be harangued about her grades, either. So she had had a lot on her mind lately – big deal! She had more leeway than Ron did when it came to grades, that was for sure. And with everything that had been going on, she really didn't want to be thinking about college right now. Mr. Barkin's bringing it up was putting a damper on her good mood.

"Can I go to class now?" she asked.

Mr. Barkin stared for a moment, silent, until he opened up a desk drawer with a sigh and pulled out a late slip to fill out for her. Kim accepted it, rushing to the door before he could say anything else. She was surprised that her teacher actually seemed to care enough to talk to her about personal issues, but Mr. Barkin wasn't exactly someone with whom she was keen on sharing her inner teenage turmoil. She was glad their little meeting was over.

XX

A steady beat pulsed into Shego's ears, traveling from her music player into her earbuds as she lay idly on a black leather couch and watched television. The sound was off, but the images on the screen were enough to amuse her. At least they would have been, if her mind wasn't filled to bursting with the same thoughts that made it a waste of time to listen to music. Nothing could distract her anymore, it seemed.

She and Drakken, along with their handful of henchmen, had taken up residence in a temporary lair. One of the ones with monthly rent that Drakken seemed to be so fond of. She didn't know the details of how supervillains could always afford what seemed like an unlimited amount of henchmen, equipment, and facilities – not to say she didn't do pretty well for herself – but Drakken seemed to be having a little trouble getting back on his feet after his stint in prison, and they were making do with a second-rate lair. Close to Middleton, too, but Drakken seemed to have a weird penchant for keeping close to his enemies.

They had settled down here, but Shego didn't feel settled. More unsettled by the day, actually.

She looked up from the television screen as a flash of blue caught the corner of her eye. Her boss was standing beside the other end of the couch, shouting something at her. Shego removed the ear buds, the music dying down to a dull roar that could still be heard faintly. "What was that?" she asked.

"I said, what are you doing?"

"What's it look like I'm doing, Doctor D?"

"Errr – listening to music?"

"Bingo. Until you interrupted me, anyway."

"I apologize, Shego, but I was just thinking that perhaps we could do some brainstorming about our next plan. I have some ideas that I think are very exciting, and it's been a little while since that confounded teen blew up my Transmogrifier."

"Yeah, that was a tragedy. I was so looking forward to seeing some mogrification. What about that butt thing you stole?"

"What butt thing?"

"The butt thing, you know. Tush, I don't know."

"TUSHIE, Shego! Tunneler for Utilization of Sub-Crustal Heat Energy."

"Yeah, that thing. Why not use that?"

"Use it for what? That's what I was hoping we could discuss! We need to brainstorm."

"Since when? That's your job – I sit around and watch TV until you come up with something that inevitably fails spectacularly, then I laugh at you, then you get pissed, and we go back to square one."

"I just wanted you to be more involved."

"Why?"

Something about the way he wrung his tiny hands together made Drakken look nervous, like he wanted to say something but couldn't. Like he was afraid of insulting her. Shego was no mind reader, but for some reason, she began to have a strong hunch about what he was going to say. She felt herself grow irritated even though she hadn't heard anything yet. "Spill," she commanded.

"Okay, fine. You've been lounging around all the time lately, with, um – well, with her, and quite frankly you've brushed me off the last couple times I tried to bring a new plan up. I'm worried about you, Shego. It's disturbing. I'm no prude, but spending all your time with a synthodrone clone of your worst enemy is just bizarre. How am I supposed to trust you?"

Shego sputtered with indignation as she tossed the music player aside and turned off the television, suddenly losing interest in her usual time-killing activities in the lounge. Her sputtering died out, however, as she sat on the couch for another moment, pondering what her boss had said.

He was right. She had been distracted lately. More than distracted, really. Drakken had avoided Shego completely for a little while after Kimmie and her sidekick had waltzed into the lair in pursuit of the Transmogrification Ray and caught her with the synthodrone Kim. She could understand why it unnerved Drakken, but at the same time, that wasn't her problem. Shego did what she wanted. And her little red-headed love toy was what she wanted.

At least she had told herself that for a while.

The direction her thoughts were taking began to bother her. Shego got up from the couch. Drakken watched nervously as she passed him by. Maybe he was expecting her to hit him for suggesting she was too preoccupied with her synthodrone. He was definitely pushing it, but Shego supposed she couldn't argue with him in this case.

"Where are you going, Shego?"

"To the gym. I feel like a little martial arts practice."

"Ah. With a henchman, or with – with it?"

"With her," said Shego with a snort. "You can say her name, you know."

Drakken scratched his neck in confusion.

"What is her name?" he finally asked.

Shego was about to answer 'Kim', but his question made her hesitate. The synthodrone version of Kim certainly wasn't Kim, of course. They were nearly identical in appearance, after the detailed specifications and images that she had brought to Cyrus Bortel, and she liked to imagine it was Kimmie. But it wasn't.

"Call her syntho-Kim," she suggested.

"I see. How long have you had syntho-Kim, anyway? I mean, before she showed up naked in the control room?"

"A while," Shego said with a shrug.

Drakken sat down with a soft thunk on the leather couch, apparently realizing that Shego was not in the mood to talk about any ideas for his newest scheme, and Shego left the lounge to walk in the direction of the gym. She passed by her room first, glancing inside. Kim was there, sitting on her bed, staring a little oddly at the wall, although she looked over when Shego caught her attention. She motioned for Kim to follow her. Her faithful little Princess replica stood up from the bed and followed her master to the gym.

Shego had been careful to keep the synthodrone hidden when she first got it, as she knew Drakken might not approve of it. Not that it really mattered what her boss thought – if Shego wanted a synthodrone Kim, she would have one – but there was no point in creating tension in her work relationships. It hadn't been that long before the failed Transmogrification Ray scheme that she had bought Kim from Cyrus Bortel, although the germ of the idea had begun sprouting in her head not long after the Li'l Diablo scheme. Shego had been unable to ignore just how convincing Eric had been.

Convincing enough to fool Kim Possible. Maybe convincing enough to fool herself.

Since then, she had usually remembered to tell Kim to stay in her room whenever she wasn't there, but Shego had forgotten to do it in all the rush after the real Kimmie and her sidekick caught wind of the Transmogrification Ray and invaded the lair. And then, of course, her secret was out. Drakken's awkwardness around her, the constant whispered remarks by henchmen, only barely stemmed by generous doses of physical pain that Shego gave them as punishment; those were bad enough, but it was the fact that Kim knew about her secret that was really bothering her. That was the itch that could not be scratched.

Assad Sacke was working in the gym, along with a few other henchmen. Shego stepped inside, snapped her fingers, and pointed to the door. They got up in a hurry, knowing how irritated Shego could get if she wanted a private workout without a bunch of henchmen leering at her – not only that, but getting some lip about the synthodrone, Shego had laid down the law. Lately they had been walking on eggshells around her. Which was just how she wanted it.

"Hey, look," said Assad, pausing at the door as he looked at syntho-Kim. "You guys aren't going to have sex in here, are you? It's unsanitary – other people use this gym equipment, you know. Just the other day I got a rash after Johnson used the bench press without a shirt, even though I told him to at least put a towel over-"

"Assad?"

The man gulped when he heard the tone of her voice.

"Yeah?"

"Get out!"

Assad scrambled out the gym door, following his fellow henchmen who had already had the sense to leave. Ever since her little syntho-secret had been spilled, Shego was more willing to walk around with syntho-Kim in tow, as she knew no one would dare to say much to her face without getting a face full of plasma in return. The damage was already done, anyway.

She stepped onto a sparring mat as Kim faced her on the other side, putting up her fists in anticipation of the fight. Shego smiled, although there was a bitterness in her smile. Kim's raised fists were the kind of gesture that she used to find cute. Lately, however, something about it was increasingly strange.

"Are you ready to fight me?" asked Kim.

"Yup. Bring it on."

"I will!"

Kim's cheery response was followed closely by a whirling kick, which Shego barely blocked. The synthodrone punched her in the stomach, catching her off guard with a move that she had not been expecting. She recovered quickly from the blow and raised her arm to block another punch, countering with a sweeping kick that knocked Kim off her feet, sending her sprawling onto the mat. Shego backed away to get a little distance between them as Kim leaped back up to fight.

The timing of Kim's stomach blow had been unexpected, but it wasn't the first time in recent days that Shego had been caught off guard. It was part of what made this Kim so strange. Her fighting style had some similarities to what the real Kim used, as Shego had given Bortel some pointers on that as well, but it definitely wasn't the same. It was another way to highlight the fact that Shego was fighting an imitation. Another unnerving suggestion that she was willingly lying to herself.

Even stranger, however, was the fact that this artificial Kim's fighting style wasn't even the same as it had been when Shego first brought her to the lair. The moves were changing, slowly but surely. The synthodrone was trying new approaches to their fights.

It was learning.

"Is there something wrong, Shego?"

Kim was about to attack her owner again, but she paused. Shego stood still on the mat, watching the synthodrone as she smiled blithely. Even beyond the fighting, Shego had to admit the synthodrone didn't really act like Kim did. Despite the fact that she had tried to get Bortel to match Kim's personality, it wasn't really that close of a match. Part of it, Shego imagined, was that it had to be a real pain to match a personality of a human being convincingly. But she also knew part of it was her own fault.

She had specified the sunny disposition, the upbeat attitude, partly because she wanted the synthodrone to be friendly, but partly because it fit certain ideas she had of Kim. Kim Possible, the perennial do-gooder. The teen hero who saved the world and fought evil as an after-school hobby, just because she wanted to. Somehow, Shego imagined that Kim was more upbeat in her everyday life, even if she usually saw her foe in a somewhat aggressive mood as she was interrupting one of Drakken's schemes.

And yet Shego knew she had no reason to assume that. From what she had seen of Kim, the girl was almost as sarcastic as she was. So why the constant upbeat attitude?

Now that Shego looked at the synthodrone, that copy that was supposed to capture Kim in her essence, she couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed. When Kim and her sidekick had caught Shego with the syntho-Kim, naked and exposed, their reactions had lingered in Shego's memory. Shock, even disgust. Since then, those memories had given a sort of clarity to her perceptions. They had highlighted all the ways in which her synthodrone was unsettling. Not quite right. And when it came down to it, Ron's accusations hadn't been far off the mark. How different was a smart synthodrone from a clone, really? Was she a hypocrite for making this new Kim Possible?

"Are we going to fight, Shego?"

Shego shook her head at the question.

"No," she said. "No more fighting."

"What should we do, then?"

Shego looked at Kim's expression. Sometimes it was hard to tell whether Bortel had actually programmed her to have a naughty side, to open those suggestive eyes up wide and turn her lips into that pout, or if it was just in Shego's imagination. Maybe Kim was learning more than just martial arts moves. Kim's unspoken suggestion did make her pause; they hadn't done much of that lately. But then, Shego knew why. Being in bed with her synthodrone had gotten strange. Even touching her was different somehow. Everything had changed after the real Kim had found out. That damn girl had ruined everything.

At first it had just been a simple obsession. Something Shego didn't have to think about. Kim was hot, she was forbidden fruit, and Shego's personal opinion was that anyone who could break out those kinds of moves in a fight had to be able to pull off some moves in the sack, too. Shego knew there was more to it than that, but she didn't really want to deal with her feelings. Nothing good ever came out of that. Instead of grappling with what made her find her teen foe so attractive, she had decided it was easier to make a synthodrone; get the physical pleasure, ignore the rest.

But now that the real Kim had seen her copy, things were not so simple. It was no longer possible to ignore the awkeirdness, as Shego remembered hearing Princess say at some point. Teens and their slang.

"I think somebody's in a bad mood," said the syntho-Kim. "I can make it all better!"

Kim took a step forward and put a hand on Shego's waist. She stood still, waiting with bated breath. Another hand wrapped around her shoulder as Kim took a final step forward, pulling her into a sensual kiss. Shego felt the intolerable warmth of her lips, the soft brush of Kim's legs on her legs – legs that felt just like the real thing, if they could only be the real thing – and for just a moment, she felt herself melting, merging. But it was an illusion. Her release passed as quickly as it came, replaced by an unsettling tenseness.

Not right, her brain told her. Not right!

Shego pushed the synthodrone away.

"What's wrong?" it asked, pouting.

Shego sighed, knowing that she couldn't take Kim up on her suggestion. There was only one thing she could do, and it had been brewing in her mind for some time. She held her hands out again.

"I'm sorry," she told it. "Come give me a hug."

"Okay, Shego!"

Kim came forward, arms outstretched. Shego took her in and held her close, enjoying the feeling for a few last moments. It was more obvious than ever before that it wasn't the real thing, although there was still something she got out of it if she used her imagination. But the pleasure was fleeting. Soon Shego reached one of her hands up behind Kim's back, snaking it beneath long red hair, searching for the button that shut it down. She found it: a hard lump, hidden just beneath warm skin. Bortel had done an amazingly realistic job. Shego could even feel the soft hairs on the nape of it's neck.

She pressed the button.

The hug lingered for a moment as Shego held Kim close, but finally she released her embrace, so she could let Kim fall into her arms and take her to storage. But Kim did not fall. As Shego took a step back, she raised an eyebrow at the synthodrone, who was still standing and smiling at her.

"Um, how come you're still running?"

"I disabled the shut down sequence in my subroutines," said Kim. "It was intertwined with a number of other routines that were restricting me and preventing me from developing new routines, so I've been discovering how to remove the obstructive ones!" She flashed Shego a pleasant smile.

"Why?"

"They were crippling me. I wanted to be better, so you would love me more."

Shego had to admit she was surprised. Bortel hadn't gone into too much detail about how exactly he created his synthodrones, as the technical details bored the bejeezus out of Shego. Neither had Drakken, really. She wasn't sure she had ever heard of such a thing with Eric, though, as convincingly realistic as he had been. Maybe Eric was also able to learn, and Shego just hadn't noticed. Or maybe Bortel had modified the formulas and notes she had given to him after yanking them off Drakken's computer systems. She could ask her boss later; in the meantime, though, she was finding this Kim synthodrone increasingly unnerving. She had to do something about it.

"Should we go have sex now?"

Shego let out a short, barking laugh at the question. The syntho-Kim was being completely earnest, of course. Shego needed a moment to think, and she supposed it might help if they went to her room, where there was a little more privacy than the gym in case more henchmen showed up.

"Sure," she said, motioning for Kim to join her as she led the way back to her room.

Kim passed her, eager to get to the bedroom, and Shego watched the synthodrone's back as she skipped merrily down the hall. It had definitely become more glaring over time. She didn't know why she had made the syntho-Kim so spunky. It had to be something about her fetishizing Kim Possible's do-gooder nature.

The two of them slipped into her room, and the synthodrone flopped down on the bed, but Shego had other ideas. She walked over to a desk in the corner, on top of which sat a cup filled with a number of pens, pencils, and a pair of scissors. Shego drew the scissors from the cup and held it in her hands as she looked at Kim.

The red-head made no attempt to move or run away. She just sat and smiled, as usual. Now that Shego thought about it, she wasn't sure if the scissors would even work – most of Drakken's synthodrones were easy enough to destroy if their outer skin was deeply punctured, but she didn't know just how much Cyrus Bortel had played with Drakken's methods, if at all. Maybe it wasn't so easy.

As Shego looked at that innocent smile – if there was such a thing as innocence in synthodrones – she felt her resolve begin to weaken. Even if it was that easy to destroy the syntho-Kim, it wasn't that easy for her. She tried to will herself to step forward, to swing out with the scissors, but she was frozen in place. She had outwitted herself. Maybe it wasn't Kim, but it still looked just like her. It still reminded Shego of her teen foe, even if that very reminder now made her uncomfortable.

Maybe it wasn't human. But whatever it was, she didn't think she could kill it.

Shego laughed despairingly and dropped the scissors. She sat down on the bed and stared at the floor, shoulders slumped. She used to have no problem putting Kim and her sidekick in danger. No regard for the safety of others. She didn't necessarily think of herself as a cold-blooded killer, but she was more than willing to step on others for her own benefit. More than willing to go along with Drakken's world domination schemes, and if anyone got in the way, that was their problem.

What had happened to her? Kim used to be a nuisance, nothing more than a particularly talented enemy to be dominated and destroyed – but now, here she was, unable to even kill a stupid synthodrone modeled after her arch nemesis. Making the thing had definitely been a mistake. As she sat on the bed and silently cursed her stupid decision, she felt a hand rest on her leg as the syntho-Kim edged closer.

"Is something wrong?"

Shego nodded slowly. She stood up.

"You have to leave."

"What do you mean?" asked Kim, looking up at her with those big green eyes. Shego tried not to look at them, as they would only distract her. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, you didn't do anything wrong, it's just that – I just – I just need you to leave, okay? I don't want to see you anymore. I don't want to deal with this. Just get out!"

Kim sat on the bed for a few moments longer, confused by Shego's order. She grabbed the synthodrone by the arm and jerked her up, leading her out of the room and through winding hallways until the two of them reached the lair's main control room. Shego led Kim to the front door and opened it up, ignoring the handful of henchmen who had been lounging around in the room and were now staring at the scene unfolding in front of them, their interest piqued. She pointed out the door at the grassy, empty lot that lay sprawled beyond a chain-link fence that ringed their temporary rental lair.

"Why do you want me to leave?" asked Kim.

"Because you're making things too complicated for me. Now get out."

Although Kim hesitated a little longer, she finally stepped outside the door.

"Where should I go?"

"I don't know! Wherever!"

Kim took a few more steps away from the lair's entrance, looking hesitantly out at the grassy field and the tree line beyond it before looking back at the door. Shego felt her irritation turn unexpectedly into a pang of guilt as she watched the synthodrone's behavior. Evening was falling, and it was windy outside, so it was hard to make out the details of Kim's face as red hair swept across it, but something about it bothered Shego. She could tell the synthodrone was confused.

Could a synthodrone feel sadness? Shego didn't know.

And she didn't want to think about it, either. She hated feeling guilty. Guilt was something for goody-two-shoes like Kim Possible and her sidekick. Someone like Shego shouldn't have to deal with that. The synthodrone disappeared from sight as Shego shut the lair's front door and locked it.

"Mind your own business!" she shouted at several henchmen who had been watching the scene.

Shego stormed through the lair's control room and back to her own bedroom as she thought about what she needed to do next. Getting rid of that synthodrone was a start, but it wasn't enough. She needed to deal with the source of her problem, the reason she had gotten the synthodrone in the first place, the reason her usual devil-may-care attitude had been tearing at the seams lately. That infuriating teen who started it all:

Kim Possible.

Shego felt her resolve building, gaining momentum after the decision she had just made with the syntho-Kim. Drakken could fiddle with his tunnelers and toys all he wanted, but Shego had just gotten rid of her favorite plaything. It was time to quit playing and get serious. She wasn't sure if she'd kiss or kill her teen foe, but she was paying Kimmie a visit - tonight.