Special thanks to screaming phoenix, bigherb81, Michael Howard, MrDrP, the grey mage, CajunBear73, Katsumara, BlueEyedBrigadier, Kwebs, and Donteatacowman for their great reviews!

And thanks to everyone for reading!

Special kudos to flakeflippingsnowgypsy for her patience and hard work!


I.

"No way!" Ron yelled.

"Yes way," Kim sighed. "Most def 'yes way.'"

"What are the odds?" he exclaimed.

"The same they always are when it comes to us," she said dryly.

"This blows!"

"And you're telling me this?"

Ron looked down at the dish he was making, grumbled, and made to take off his toque.

"Ron, what are you doing?"

"Uh," he said, the hat half-raised from his head, "I kinda thought we were going to kick their biscuits."

She shook her head.

"Huh?"

"They're not doing anything illegal, Ron," she explained. "Just ordering a meal."

"Oh, okay," Ron said, lowering his toque back down. "And, I guess, Julian might take a beating if we did try to take them down--Shego never goes quietly."

"True," Kim said thoughtfully.

"Well, what do you want to do, KP?"

"What I want to do is so besides the point. What I need is for you to make Drakken a piña colada." A beat later, she said with a roll of her eyes, "Extra piña."

"No can do, KP."

"Why not?"

"I'm the cook," he said simply, "that's the drink bar dude's gig."

"Well, who is the 'drink bar dude'?"

"Sakurai-san."

"Who?" Kim asked, her exasperation beginning to show.

"Hi!" the second chef waved to Kim. "I've got some bar tending experience. And since our regular guy called out ... "

The man looked exhausted, as if he had been pulled in six different directions at once for hours on end.

"Sorry," she said.

As he walked from behind his cooking station, he asked, "That was extra piña, not colada, correct?"

II.

"Possible!" Drakken screamed petulantly. "I said extra piña! Not extra colada!"

"Drakken," Kim explained patiently and clearly, or as patiently and clearly as one could through gritted teeth, "I watched him add the extra pineapple juice my—"

A marichino cherry hit her squarely in the forehead.

"Nice one, Doc!" Shego said approvingly. She was much impressed with his firing accuracy with the drink garnish, especially since his weapon was a bendy straw. Yet she refrained from giving him the proffered high-five.

Kim was apoplectic. She was so consumed with rage that she didn't realize it at first when she snapped her pencil in two.

"Before you get too bent out of shape, Kim," Shego advised, "I must compliment you on my drink. You even managed to count the ice cubes correctly." She then added with sharp condescension, "Your education's definitely not going to waste here."

"Have … you … decided … yet?" Kim managed haltingly.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Shego said pleasantly.

After scribbling down their selections from Maaka-san's entrees, Kim dutifully asked with mounting dread, "May I get you anything else?"

"Just re-make my drink, Possible!" Drakken snarled. "Extra piña, not colada." Then he added with snarky, childish delight, "And a larger cherry this time."

Kim spun on her heel and hurried quickly away without comment.

"Say," Shego asked with annoyance, "why can't you be as good a shot with a laser cannon as you are with a straw and a cherry?"

The shine taken off his recent triumph, Drakken slumped his elbows to the tabletop to sulk. His mood brightened swiftly, however, and he snatched up his straw, inspecting it intently from several angles.

"Forget it, Dr. D."

"What?" he snapped.

"You are not making a bendy laser cannon to fire at Possible."

Drakken huffed and tossed aside the straw. Shooting a sideways glance at his companion who had begun absently filing her claws, the mad scientist quickly bent down to the floor to snatch up the marichino cherry.

"Drop it, Doc," Shego said without looking up from her filing.

"Don't worry. I'm not designing a cherry-flavored laser."

"You're not eating it, either. Drop it."

"Five minute rule, Shego," Drakken chided.

"That's the five second rule." Shego said disparagingly.

"Really?"

"Oy."

II.

Kim stalked to the hostess desk to inspect the table assignment sheet once more. Although she would never consider doing anything morally reprehensible with Drakken and Shego's food, she was not above letting them wait a few moments before she turned their order over to Ron. Besides, their shenanigans were taking time away from her other, law-abiding and non-obnoxious customers.

"Possible-san?" Maaka-san voice asked hesitantly from behind Kim's left shoulder, "I just seated a party at table twenty-three for you."

"Oh, okay, thanks." Kim nodded absently as she glanced quickly over the seating chart. Table twenty-three was near the back of the dining area, but not too close to Shego and Drakken's table.

When she turned around Kim caught her breath. Maaka-san was balancing three oversized trays crammed with full plates and glasses. The girl's eyes were lowered almost as if she wondering, with some detachment, how she had come to be carrying so much and why none of it was toppling over.

"Ohmygosh!" Kim exclaimed, "Do you need any help?"

Maaka-san's face immediately shot up and her eyes flashed. "No, no, I'm fine," she smiled.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Maaka-san nodded happily. "I'm fine, Possible-san."

"Okay, just let me know if you need a hand." Kim began walking to the rear of the bustling, noisy dining area, but looked over her shoulder and saw that Maaka-san was staring wistfully back at her. When their eyes met, Maaka-san's face immediately went crimson, and she almost lost her balance. She quickly regained her composure and carefully began to make her way to a table full of impatient customers.

Kim smiled as she walked to table twenty-three. Usui-san's girlfriend was definitely a little bit weird, but Kim liked her. Moreover, the overburdened yet still cheerful girl had given her some much needed perspective. So what if Drakken and Shego were giving her a hard time? When did they not? She resolved to think of the evening as just another mission. Instead of saving the world, she was doing a favor for some friends.

So not the drama.

Besides, she certainly wasn't going have any other customers as bad as Drakken and Shego.

III.

This is so not happening.

"Vell, vell, vell. Zo it is true, fraulein Possible, you vork here," Professor Dementor chuckled as he rubbed his hands together. "It is like I alvays tell my loyal henchmen. Although crime may not always pay, being a goodie-two-shoes gets you no-zing, no-ZING, NO-ZING! MUHWAHAHAHAHA!"

Kim let the diminutive villain finish his maniacal laugh and then calmly said, "You know, Dementor, the evil villain light really loses its impact in a well-lit room."

"I didn't want to say anything, BIL," Dementor's brother-in-law Myron added unhelpfully at his elbow, "but she's got a point."

Dementor switched off the flashlight he was holding beneath his chin and tossed it derisively across the table. Before it could roll off, it was caught and righted by a hand belonging to the person sitting opposite from Dementor's brother-in-law, a person whose body was for the most part hidden by the latest copy of the UK gossip magazine, "FINE."

Dementor shook the displeasure from him and gave Kim a fiendish grin. "Zo, fraulein Possible, it appears zat you're at my beck and call, yah? For ze next few hours, my every dezire and whim is your COMMAND TO OBEY! HAHAHAHA!"

"Sure," Kim replied once his laughter had faded to the extent that she could hear herself think. "Can I start you off with anything to drink?"

"We vill have three of ze Shirley Temples," Dementor pronounced as he turned his attention back to his menu. Kim noticed a pleased expression cross Myron's face at the mention of the kiddie cocktail, but she distinctly heard a grumble come from behind the cover of "FINE."

"Okay, three Shirley Temples," Kim scribbled on her notepad with her half a pencil. "Do you need a few minutes to de--"

"You may go now," Dementor said brusquely with a dismissive wave of his hand. "We vill summon you when you are needed."

Kim massaged her right temple as she walked away. As obnoxious as Dementor had been, at least he hadn't taken her picture or shot fruit at her.

Yet.

IV.

"What are the odds?" Ron exclaimed.

"Not so loud, Ron," Kim said still pressing her temple, "I'm getting a headache."

"Sorry, KP," he said softer.

She searched through the frilly pockets of her apron. "Oh, and here's Drakken and Shego's order," she said handing him the wadded up piece of notepaper.

As he smoothed it out, he asked, "What's wrong, KP?"

"Besides the obvious?" she said her eyebrow fully arched.

"Yeah. Besides that."

"Well, I don't believe that bad luck alone explains Drakken and Dementor being here on the same night."

"Shego took your picture with her phone, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, maybe she called him."

"I was thinking that, too, but how could he have gotten here so fast?"

"I don't know, KP." He shook his head and then cried excitedly, "Hey!"

"What?"

"Drakken and Shego ordered a couple of Karin's dinners!"

Kim began massaging both temples.

"And nice choices, too! Hey, Karin!" he shouted to his friend who had just entered the kitchen, "You're a big hit tonight."

"Ron!" Kim grimaced, clutching her head.

"Oh!" And then in a softer voice, "My bad, KP!"

"What's wrong, Possible-san?" Maaka-san asked.

"Just a headache," she sighed. "I'm having customer issues," she explained.

"If there's anything--"

"Karin," Ron cut in, "order for table nine is looking fine."

"Oh, okay," the girl laughed.

As she collected the dishes and assorted them onto a large tray, Sakurai-san said, "Maaka-san, the appetizers for seven are up!"

"S-sure," Maaka-san said as she hoisted the tray to her shoulder. "I'll be right back."

"I'll take those out for you, Maaka-san," Kim said quickly.

"Really?" Maaka-san smiled broadly. "Thanks, Possible-san!"

Kim held the door for the overloaded waitress and then came back to the cook station and placed the appetizer dishes upon a medium sized tray. As she hoisted it onto her shoulder, she breathed, "Oh, this all smells so good!"

"Yeah," Ron nodded. "It's the garlic. Karin's recipes call for a lot of--"

He was cut off by a very loud grumbling sound.

"KP?" he asked, "Was that your stomach?"

"Yes," she cried pathetically. "I'm so, so hungry, Ron." Her anger and stress had been able to ward off her hunger pangs, but a whiff of Maaka-san's meals had brought them back full force.

"Well, here," he said warmly, "have one of her rice balls--just made them."

"Thanks," she smiled as she leaned over so he could pop it into her mouth.

Ron went back to fixing the next order. A half minute later, he happened to glance up and noticed that Kim was standing in the same spot. Had she ever left? The look in her eyes, however, told him that whatever was up was so big.

"What's wrong, KP? Don't tell me Yono the Destroyer showed up."

She blinked finally. "No, no." She then said evenly and serious, "When you finish Yamanouchi, you and Maaka-san are opening up a restaurant."

"Really?"

"Really. Th-that was incredible!"

"It was just rice with a few spices."

"I know, but it was incredible. I can't imagine how a full meal might taste!" Kim said in a semi-daze. She shook her head clear, "I'm serious, Ron. The only recipes that even come close are yours!"

"Maybe you should tell her that."

"I will." She smiled. "See ya in a few."

As she passed through the double-doors, Kim tried to recall exactly where table seven was.

Against the windows, I think.

V.

"Hey, K!"

Oh no.

"You look so incredibly cool," Bonnie Rockwaller smiled viciously, "I just have to get a picture." She began digging through her purse for her cell phone.

"Father, what is Kim Possible doing here?" Señor Senior Junior asked looking up from his copy of "FINE."

"She apparently works here, my son," Señor Senior Senior explained.

"Why?"

"It is as I have told you before, Junior," Señor Senior Senior said solemnly as he looked toward Kim, "it is a terrible thing to be poor."

"I just knew that college wouldn't lead anywhere," Bonnie added. "I am so glad that I didn't bother going. Here, K, say 'loser'!"

The flash from Bonnie's phone temporarily blinded Kim at which time she heard Maaka-san's voice.

"Thanks again, Possible-san."

As her vision cleared, Kim made out Maaka-san's smiling face looking into hers. Suddenly, Kim realized what about the girl's smile had struck her as so odd earlier. Her canines were very pronounced, almost ridiculously so.

"This is yours, sir." Maaka-san said as she lifted Señor Senior Senior's appetizer from the tray and placed it before him. "And this was yours. And yours, ma'am."

"Wh-what," Kim managed finally, "what are you doing here?"

The elder Senior explained, "Beginning a splendid meal, Miss Possible."

"Oooh!" Junior squealed appreciatively after taking his first bite. "It is as if there is a joyous gathering in my mouth which many famous and glamourous people are attending!"

"I am so glad you like it, sir," Maaka-san exclaimed.

"Most excellent aroma," the elder man added. "The scent of the garlic is sublime and not in any way overpowering."

"It's great for stamina," Maaka-san nodded happily to him.

"K," Bonnie said between bites, "tell Loser he can be my private chef when he gets tired of being your sidekick."

"Don't call him that!" Kim snapped. "Wait, how did you know that Ron's in the back?"

"We actually received word after we had been seated," the elder Senior answered pleasantly. "Without question, our decision to dine here has proven a fortuitous one."

"But," Kim stammered, "what are you doing in town? And Drakken? And Dementor?"

"Oh, that is so beautiful!" Maaksa-san exclaimed. "May I see it?"

"I suppose," Bonnie said reluctantly.

"Ah yes," Señor Senior Senior said proudly turning his attention away from Kim. "El Curcifijo del Aguirre--one of most valuable treasures from the Age of Exploration. It is one of the many thoughtful tokens my son has obtained for Miss Rockwaller."

Kim followed his gaze and saw Maaka-san gingerly holding a rather ostentatious gem-studded golden cross that Bonnie was wearing around her neck.

"Jealous much?" Bonnie asked, shooting Kim a smile.

"Not particularly," Kim replied flatly.

"Are those real diamonds?" Karin asked breathlessly.

"Of course," Bonnie snapped. She eyed Karin with thinly-veiled disdain. "Okay, you've seen enough. You can leave now." She swatted the girl away. "Shoo!"

"O-okay, sorry," Maaka-san smiled sheepishly and edged away from the table.

"Shoo?" Kim glared at Bonnie. "That was so un-called for."

"Whatever, Kim," Bonnie said waving her hand dismissively. "Why don't you go harvest some parsley or something?"

Kim walked quickly to catch up with Maaka-san and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't mind Bonnie, Maaka-san. She's always been like that."

"Oh, I'm okay, Possible-san," she said.

"But that was so incredibly mean of her!" Kim shook her head, "Since she hooked up with Junior, she's gotten so much worse--almost as if being around us 'mere mortals' makes her skin crawl."

"Oh," Maaka-san's face lost its color for a second. "Oh yeah," she laughed uneasily. Once her face regained its normal hue, she said earnestly, "Thanks anyway, Possible-san. I'm all right."

"Possible-san!" Usui-san said as he walked quickly toward them. "Could you grab table thirty-three? I have three tables I need to get to immediately, but I promised this customer that someone would see to him right away. Be careful, he's in a very foul mood."

"Table thirty-three?"

VI.

Usui-san couldn't remember when Julian had been so busy, nor when it had had so many famous or infamous customers. He had nearly dropped a tray full of drinks when he first noticed Possible-san's enemies, Shego-san and Drakken-san, sitting at table thirteen. Despite their dangerous, world-dominating reputations, his first thought was only that Possible-san wouldn't somehow get stuck waiting on them.

A few minutes later, he nearly choked on his tongue while reading back a customer's order when he looked up to see that she, in fact, was taking their order. And although he felt ashamed for the pettiness of his initial reaction afterwards, his first thought when he saw Drakken-san maliciously shoot his classmate with a cherry was of the trouble he and his mother would have finding new jobs after the restaurant was destroyed.

Maaka, too, was handling the situation very well. As jumpy and easily frightened as he knew his girlfriend to be, he was amazed at how calmly she was dealing with such nefarious clientele.

Then, as he approached table twenty-seven in the far back corner of the dining area, it occurred to him.

Does she even realize who they are?

"Okay, before I order, and I hate to be pain, but, you know, I just got to know this because it is really, really important--HEY, why are you glaring at me? I only wanted to ask a question?"

"Oh no, sir," Usui-san apologized quickly to the skinny, overly excitable customer. "It's my eyes--they're ... well, they been like this since I was born."

"Really?" he asked. "You're not just saying that because sometimes, you know, people will try to pull things over on me and I'm not easily fooled, I can usually tell when someone's trying to snow me, well, maybe not ALL the time, but most of the time and"--and here the man leapt from his seat and got right up into Usui-san's face to stare intently into his eyes.

"Uh, sir," he said edging backwards a few steps.

"Wow! Would you look at that? They are SO tiny. That is freaky." Here, the customer waved his right hand wildly in front of Usui-san's face. "That IS crazy, they aren't changing in size at all! That is incredbile. Have you ever thought of working in a carnival or maybe, you know, like a haunted house for Halloween or something? Do you guys have Halloween over here in Japan? Because, like, you know, you're really scary--I mean you are freaking me out right now. If I didn't know any better I'd think you were really angry with me."

"Did you have a question, sir?" Usui-san said in his most restrained voice.

"Oh YEAH, I did," the customer nodded and, thankfully, sat back down in his seat. But immediately, he sprang out of it again. "What I wanted to ask was this: all the items in this menu--" and here he produced a menu in his left hand and shook it a few inches from Usui-san's face "--have their priced listed in yen. The question I put to you is how many yen go into a dollar?"

"Uh ..."

"I know its a silly question and I'm sure you get asked it hundreds of times a day, but I need to know because just between you and me and I really shouldn't be telling you this, but I am actually using my mother's credit card to pay for this trip"--and here he practically shoved his credit card into Usui-san's face "--and I know that it has MY name on it, but the account is really my mother's and I would really hate to get into trouble with her if I ended up spending a thousand dollars on an egg roll or chop suey or one of your other local dishes. So how much?"

Usui-san shook his head at Frugal Lucre (if he had read the name on the credit card correctly) and said, "I'm sorry, sir. I don't know."

"You DON'T know? You don't KNOW? How can you NOT know? That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. I can't get you people. You know the world doesn't revolve around Japan and the YEN, you know?"

"Sir," Usui-san said with growing edge in his voice.

"I mean, if I was Japanese, which I am not by the way, I would certainly know how my strange foreign money translated into dollars. It's just common courtesy. And I cannot get over those CRAZY eyes of yours. I mean like right now if I didn't know you were born with super bizarro eyes I would really think that you were glaring at me."

VII.

Kim wondered if Usui-san had misspoke when he gave her the table number. There didn't seem to be anyone sitting at table thirty-three. At the very least, she couldn't see anyone's head and shoulders over the rear of the booth as she approached it.

Maybe he went to the bathroom. Or left.

As she drew near, she felt drawn to look up, out the window. On the striped canopy that fluttered in the unseen night breeze outside, she saw ... something ... something that was hanging from the canopy. And she realized she had seen it earlier--right before Ron and she had started cleaning up the smashed dishes that Maaka-san had dropped.

Is that what I think it is?

A loud, sharp noise punctured her thoughts.

She turned back to the table and looked with growing trepidation into the booth.

The long, hairy fingers that had generated the aforementioned snap closed tightly into a fist that came down rudely upon the table top.

"Sake!" the low voice demanded. "Two bottles."

Kim fumbled for and found her notepad and half pencil. "Two bottles of sake?" she repeatedly as calmly as she could.

"Word," Yono the Destroyer uttered, glaring up at her with pitiless, glowing eyes.


To be continued ...