A Kigo Carol

By Eoraptor

AN: Kim Possible to Disney, "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens. Inspired by a challenge on KP Slash Haven. Rated "T" PLEASE LEAVE REVIEWS?

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Deborah was about to retreat to her bedroom when she heard a sharp "rap rap rap." Looking around, she couldn't find the source. She went to her door, but no one was in evidence through the peep hole.

She heard what seemed like a tiny throat clearing, and the tapping again. Turning, she saw that the ghost of Christmas Present had left behind her fireplace, and astride the mantle was Death. Well, it seemed like Death.

She had always believed that the specter of the grim reaper would be… well… taller. The Spirit was definitely fearsome in appearance; his great black cloak was woven of a course cloth with faint fraying at the folds and edges, as if he had labored with the corpses of the dead many years whilst wearing it. Clinging to his form were various smears and cobwebs, again bespeaking a gruesome pastime. A heavy bronze hourglass dangled from a hangman's noose around his waist even.

The disconcerting thing was that this grim Spirit of Christmases Yet to Come was all of eight inches tall. He clutched a miniature scythe in hands which bore wicked claws, and his face, or skull perhaps, was hidden in the shadow of his hood, save for a set of gleaming white incisors that glinted out occasionally.

If she weren't a little disturbed by the presence of massive teeth, claws, and a very functional looking, if letter opener sized scythe, Deborah would have laughed out loud. Still, she couldn't help but smirk a bit. "Oh, this is too rich… you're here to show me future holidays, yeah?"

The hooded figure gave a nod and then pointed to Miss Horowitz's bedroom door with his scimitar. The business woman shrugged, and strode to the door. On opening it, she found not her bedroom, but the stateroom of some expensive manor house.

Leaning back, Deborah spied the walls of her living room. "Huh… neater trick than the flashlight and the window."

Stepping through, she looked around. She spied the Stoppables, well, the parents at least, gatered in one corner. She saw no one else, so she made her way over.

Deborah shook her head, Ron was wearing some goatee of blonde and gray. It looked good on him, but the worn look in his eyes ruined the impression of maturity the beard lent. Beside him, his wife Tara wore more silver in her hair, and one look at her eyes showed Shego they saw nothing, having a milky quality where once they had been sapphire.

She was unsurprised when they passed right through her. Turning, she followed them out of the stateroom and perked an ear as Ron spoke.

"So, she's finally gone…" The blonde man sniffed a touch. "Can't say it wasn't a long time coming, considering how sick she was."

The elegant woman looked about, and realized this manor house must be a funeral home. She looked around, and caught sight of the Spirit standing atop a chair in the hall. "Hey, short stack, who's funeral? Oh… I know, Must be Tiffany. Well, I guess she lived longer than that last ghost thought. That's… good?"

With a snort, she followed the pair as they walked down the hallway. She followed them through a doorway, but they had disappeared. She found instead, her brothers, picking through a cardboard box.

"Gee, didn't have much in the way of personal effects, did she?" Her long haired brother bemoaned as he picked through the box.

"This is just the stuff that the burglar didn't take, and the stuff the state didn't confiscate for taxes." Harold went on, picking out an ear ring and considering it. "Won't sell for much, I'm afraid, which is why it's still here."

The twins shook their heads and set their handfuls back in to the box,

"Wasn't even,"

"Worth coming down."

The finished for each other. Deborah wondered who's things they were going through, perhaps one of those women from the shelter, though a tickle at the back of her brain said otherwise. "Spirit. Are there more funerals going on? Why all these people I know gathered for a stranger?"

The grim miniature specter merely shook its head beneath the hood and pointed towards the door. After a moment, he indicated with his scythe, tapping it on the chair he sat astride for emphasis. It seemed to ring more loudly that a six inch cookie cutter should.

She shrugged and sighed "All right all right, I'm goin… Gee, you'd think for funerals, people would be more… I dunno, sad or some junk."

Passing through the door, she found herself not back in the hall, but in a chapel. Sjhe looked around, and found it was, indeed, a funeral. Yet, it was a sad one. Looking around, the preacher droned on with religious sentiment, but no one sat in the pews.

No, scratch that. One person sat to one side. A woman clad all in black, including a lacey veil. Miss Horowitz was about to move closer, to see who it was, when a chill ran up her spine. As the mourner, the only mourner, dabbed beneath the veil and revealed a spray of red hair.

The spectral business woman wheeled, looking for the pint sized reaper. She found him perched, of all places, on the pulpit, sitting in front of the preacher.

She stormed towards the miniature spook, but slowed, realizing this also brought her closer to the casket. "Spirit… who's funeral is this…?"

The cloaked figure shook his head and gestured to the casket. Deborah shook her head violently, not willing to see for herself the corpse within. She heard movement behind her, and saw the redhead of mystery moving up to the casket, forming, by herself, an imaginary line of mourners. She passed by the ethereal woman and looked down into the casket. With a shake of her head, she moved along, thanking the priest.

Ignoring the words in their familiar voice, empty though those words were, she followed in the wake of the mourner. She looked in, and recoiled in horror. For there, within the sleek black coffin with a satin green lining, was herself. She looked hideously made up, as though the embalmer couldn't be bothered. Thick green eye shadow and black lipstick attempted to hide sunken features.

Flailing backwards, the ghostly woman screamed in abject terror for the first time in her life that she could recall. She wheeled to the lectern and grabbed the miniature cloak of the spirit, pleading with her eyes.

"This is me?! My fate is to die all alone?! My brothers picking through my possessions like ghouls, the Stoppables practically toasting my demise?! Only one person to attend my death, and she came out of duty and nothing else?!!!!"

The petite specter nodded and clacked his scythe on the pulpit.

"IS there any way I can change this?! Make it not happen?! Keep Tiffany from Dying?! Keep myself from becoming this pariah?! Change it?! Yes, that's it! That's it! I'll change! I'll be better!" Deborah pled.

The spirit clacked his scythe again and shook his head, large buck teeth gleaming beneath the hood, and Deborah found herself inside the casket. She was still and terrified for a long moment. Then she heard sounds, the tumbling of something above. They were burying her! They were going to bury her alive!

She pounded on the lid of the casket. Pounded with all her considerable strength. She started shredding the liner, down to the bare metal. Igniting her hands, she flung hear and fire into the lid, screaming to be let out, screaming to the heavens that she would change!

---

And exploded out of her bed onto the hardwood floor. Gasping and staring around in a hunted manner, it took her a moment to gather that she was not trapped in a casket being covered in earth. The disheveled businesswoman extinguished her hands with only a little scorching of the hardwood and panted, standing.

Without thought to the nightstand she had used to gauge the previous nights time, she threw open the door to her bedroom and exploded out into the living area. Gone was the fireplace, the toys, the twice destroyed bedroom door again intact. She closed and reopened it, finding only her bedroom beyond.

The sun was just breaking over Lake Go and blasting through the massive panes of glass, now as solid as ever. She charged to her massive television and flicked it on. As always it tuned to a business channel, with o stock ticker for the holiday. "…and in other news this Christmas morning…"

"Christmas Morning?!" she whispered to no one but herself, "I'm Alive!!! I'm Free!!!"

Whooping and cheering, she charged to the bedroom. The pistol and the phone and the benighted alarm clock all still rested on the night stand, reminding her that the previous night was not a dream, so much as a portent. She had to change. Had to mend her callous ways this very day!

She dashed to the bedroom and pulled on what clothes she could as quickly as possible, shedding away her previous day's business dress suit for something more casual, as she had not dressed in years. Owing to those, the jeans and green blouse were a bit stiff and tight, but she let that bother her not, instead dashing out to the elevator.

Quickly she was down to the ground floor of her building, and out into the street. The changed woman knew already what her first act must be. Slipping her ePhone into her handbag, she went right for the local deli. Thankfully, Go City was a modern metropolis, and had secular establishments that would be open even today.

Slipping inside, she called the attendant. She gave him the Stoppable's home address, as well as two hundred dollar bills. She then sat about picking out dinner, trimmings, and two great platters of cookies. Briefly, she pondered being evil and sending a ham to the residence, grinning wickedly to herself… but with a chuckle, she set that aside. She selected the fattest bird she could find that was precooked, a great TurDucHen, a chicken within a goose within a great turkey, and all baked together. Giving the man a third bill, she grinned, giving no name when asked, and exiting the store.

Clapping her hands together against the chill blowing in off the lake, she made her way immediately to the next stop on her rapidly forming mental itinerary. She took the second of the two platters of cookies and went to get a truck.

Honking and raising great fanfare, Deborah arrived at an older house on the inner edge of the city proper, pulling into its drive and leaping from the cab as the driver set to opening the gate of the massive van. It was an old brick manner, but its ornate shutters had been replaced with bars. She technically shouldn't even know the place was anything special, but she owed her knowledge to a higher power.

She bounded up the stairs and banged on the heavy metal door with all force. It took several minutes, but finally, a face appeared at the high window. Only one face could peer that highly, and she grinned at her brother Harold.

The door was unbolted, an involved affair, and the man-mountain stared out at her in confusion, "Sis? Erm… What are…"

"Oh, get out of the way Hego, Let the man make his deliveries! And here, take these and give them to Bobby, or is it Billy handing out the treats?" She thrust the overloaded platter at the big man, and then brushed past him.

Inside, she found the group of women and children gathered about the bedraggled tree she had already known would be there. She picked up the thing, and with nary an effort, hurled it away. It was just as quickly replaced by a full, lovely, and pre-decorated tree by the delivery driver, a stout man she had found alone working the dock at the department center she had just raided. He was thrilled with his sudden Christmas bonus, and was all too eager to be of service.

She turned to the mother with the most darkened eyes, and her son Johnny, and smiled. She handed them a card and grinned, flicking some imagined dust from her lapel. "That happens to be the best Civil Prosecutor in three states. I'm most certain he'd be thrilled to take up the case of a boy who's not had a single set of new clothes in an entire year. Just let him know that Miss Horowitz said he owes her one."

Spinning back, leaving the confused woman holding the business card and stuttering, she clapped her hands and grinned, "Friends! This building is going to be demolished in a few weeks!"

There were gasps and shouts, even as her twin brothers were coming in to see what the commotion was.

"What?! You mean you're really going to burn the place down?!"

"You heartless Grinch!"

"Why of course I am! And if I could find the place with just any truck driver, it's hardly a place safe for women and children! Besides… I just happen to know of a perfectly suitable ten story building in the heart of down town that's just standing mostly vacant." She nodded with a grin and a twinkle in her eye, "Complete with a gated entrance, and easy access to schools, shopping, and in a quite secure neighborhood!"

She grinned as even her purple headed brother glanced out from the kitchen in shock. She spent the next few hours sorting out details with her do-gooding brothers and eating a meal with them and the residents of the shelter. She gave them the number of the contractor she knew would be all too happy to renovate the lower nine stories of her building for the new residents and bid them farewell, making sure to tip the truck driver again as he hauled away the old derelict tree and now empty boxes of toys and children's clothed that had previous filled the van to the brim.

Glancing at her ePhone, Deborah realized that she had just enough time to go to her office. Arriving, she unlocked the door, and had just shed her coat when the door chimed a second time.

Turning, her voice seized in her throat just as she was about to bid her guest welcome. The redhead before her was a vision in holiday white, from her slacks to her coat. A loan blue scarf set off the outfit and Deborah simply stared.

"Ki- Kim- Kimmie…" She finally worked past her stone lips as she stared.

"Please, come in! Have a seat!" She blushed like the girl she had once been and finally, and literally, smacked herself into gear. She indicated the plush chair reserved for high-rolling clientele, and sat down on the edge of her desk. She bit her lower lip as the other woman strode across the office and eased herself down into the luxurious chair.

Deborah noticed it. Anyone else, those who had never seen Kim walk, would never have picked up on the faint limp and the tiny hiss of a gas cylinder as she moved. But the pale woman who sat across from her knew the younger Kim, the one who had owned two working legs and energy in spades. She knew that Kimberly lacked a left leg now, severed mid-thigh just outside the Horowitz's front door that night a decade ago exactly.

After simply staring at the alabaster and ginger angel before her, she was startled by a clearing throat.

"I'm not here as a trophy to be looked at, Debbie. If that's all this was, I still need to go to my parents place, and swing by Ron's." Kim started to rise, only to find herself suddenly gripped in a monstrous hug.

She blushed despite herself, and cautiously returned it. Leaning back after a moment, she saw that the emerald eyes of her hugger were liquid, tears streaming.

"Kimmie! I'm so sorry! I was a horrible selfish bitch! Please Please say you forgive me! Please tell me you won't come to my funeral!" She gripped the woman's hands tightly in her own, her lower lip trembling in a rather effective pout.

The redheaded archaeologist wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that. She'd never heard someone beg forgiveness and funerary abandonment in the same breath before. "Ooohkay… Maybe we should start again."

Stepping back, she held out her hand, albeit it nervously, "I'm Doctor Possible… and you are? Because I sure as heck don't recognize you…"

Deborah winced slightly, but that faded as she saw the warm smile in the eyes of the shorter woman. She extended her hand and shook Kim's, before yanking her into another hug tightly, "And I'm Debbie Horowitz, recovering Grinch."

---

Miss Horowitz sat in her office on Friday morning, trying to chisel the inane grin off of her face. The redhead and promised not to tell Ron that they had had dinner together, or had even seen one another. She had also promised to try to have dinner again on New Years. The emerald woman knew it was going to be difficult, but she WOULD win the angel back. She had just finished ordering up two tickets to England for the first, First Class, all the way. Hell, she had money, and it wasn't a sin to use, so long as she was using it on someone else.

She heard the door chime, and grinned wickedly. The woman put on her bitch on wheels face and did her double damnedest to erase the goofy smile. Rising from her desk straightened her severe green business suit and stepped out of the office.

She looked pointedly at Mister Stoppable, and then at the clock. "Explain."

She grinned as he wilted under her gaze and whimpered.

"Miss Horowitz… I… uh..." The blonde man stuttered and whimpered further, trying to slink to his desk.

He was about to explain when the door opened again, and a tiny blonde girl ran in. She giggled and leapt into her father's lap, squeezing him around the neck, "Daddy! Mommy said you forgot to take your lunch with you! Aunt Kim was going to bring it up, but I wanted to see you again before I had to go back to that acky hospital."

Deborah couldn't maintain the stone balled bitch act any longer; she grabbed the little girl from her father, spinning her around as though she weighed nothing, which was close to the truth. Oh! I don't think you'll have to go back to that nasty place. I hated hospitals too, you know!"

She smiled at the tiny blonde and then set her down on her father's desk. She grabbed up his desk phone and called up the insurance provider from the company. She paid for twenty four seven customer support after all. "Yes, this is Deborah Horowitz, Customer ID 7033472. Look, I want to arrange an in-home nurse for one of my employees. Yes I'm aware what that will do to my premiums."

She rolled her emerald eyes and covered the handset with her palm, "Guess I'll just have to give your daddy a raise to cover it, huh?"

Tiny Tiff giggled and spun to hug her daddy tightly around the neck, cheering for no more hospital. Ron just looked on, dumbfounded. First a mysterious seven piece banquet had been delivered to his home, and now aliens had abducted his boss and replaced her with a pod person who was giving him his holiday wish.

"Yes… I know the firm, they'll do well. Here, my assistant, Mister Stoppable will give you all the details." She handed the phone to the befuddled man and grinned. Picking up the petite blonde girl again, she descended to the car on the street. She smiled and babbled the news to Kim and Tara, who were just staring at her, one in bald faced disbelief, the other in barely hidden pride.

"So, did I get it all right Squirt? No more hospital? Big raise for Daddy?" She flicked the girl's pony tail and waited for a response.

"No!" She pouted, holding up her little charm bracelet and twirling the six pointed star and the cross there, "You forgot one thing! God bless us all!"

And from that day forth, Deborah Go never again let the selfishness of her early life darken her heart. She kept the holiday, and the warnings of the Spirits in her heart always. And when the day for her funeral came, half of Go City attended and sent her off with warm words and gifts of charity; all except Kimberly, her beloved wife of seventy years, who had promised one New Year's morning to always forgive her and to never go to her funeral.

END


AN: The roles of the Spirits were, of course, Joss, DNAmy, and Rufus. Thanks for reading, and please leave your thoughts and reviews. I hope it wasn't too shmaltzy, but I think I executed well on this lil challenge.