A/N: Edit 11-14-11. I started Canadian Wedding almost three years ago. Whenever I think back on it, I really have to think back, and being that memory is subjective I've always had this odd view of it. For some reason, the longer I let it sit, the more I thought it sucked, but reading over it I don't really see many things I dislike. I'll have to make an attempt as I edit the rest of this to at least try to keep this tone. ~VLU

Standard Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Kim Possible, the character, or any characters from the series. All is copyrighted by Disney, I'm writing this without express permission, but am not making a profit at all.

A man, nondescript but for the dirty brown jacket, stepped up to a payphone, eagerly inserting a few quarters before he picked up the receiver. He licked his lips, shifting nervously and glancing across the empty parking lot at every other chance. If someone passed him, they would just see another druggy in a dark lot, though if that was simply nervousness or an ingenious disguise would be beyond them.

"Yo, boss," He greeted the irate voice on the other side of the line, seconds later. "Yeah, 's like yous said, right? My buddy, Cha'lie, he saw 'dose goils 'o yours, 'ight?"

The voice on the other end spoke sharply and harshly, though insults didn't seem to work so well on this particular lackey. Perhaps that was why he'd risen this far, because he didn't know when to be hurt.

"Yeahs, we's headin' down the'a juz' nows to pick ha' up, like yous said." He nodded to the reply on the phone, shifting from foot to foot uneasily. "Yeah, 'ight."

As the lackey returned the receiver, the door off to his side slid opened with a short jingle of bells, spilling even more light from the convenience store over the lighted half of the parking lot. The man who stepped out was heavy and burly, with a piggish face and low eyes that hid a certain intelligence. Accenting his position and stature was the half-eaten donut in one hand, and a tray with two cups of steaming coffee in the other.

"Hey," He called, his voice almost gratingly rough, but sharp and fast. It didn't seem to fit him. "What'd he say?"

"We's gonna stakeout ha' place." His twitchy and smallish partner reply, grabbing one of the cups from the tray.

"Not just rush in there?" His partner shook his head, but was too busy sipping at the caffeinated wonder to respond. "Hmm…" He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been saving, glancing about the empty lot and the dark skyline as they made their way to a equally nondescript car. "You got a bad feeling about this too?"

"Oh yeah," The smaller one responded.

The mountain of a man nodded his agreement. "And what if we find where they're keeping it?"

His only reply was in the form of a hand masquerading as a pistol. "Bam."

"I must look pretty pathetic, huh?" Kim asked herself, stepping up to her reflection in the mirror. It wasn't quite as bad as she'd feared, maybe because she'd managed not to cry her entire flight, and even caught a few hours of sleep too. Still, there was a sunken look to her eyes that worried even her.

Before she'd fallen asleep, the kind older man next to her had even felt the need to hand her his old CD player. He said it would help, would ease her mind and let her sleep, or something like that. She had the creeping suspicion that it wasn't kindness that had convinced the man to give up his music, but pity. It had helped sooth her soul for now, certainly, but she hated being indebted to someone, and couldn't just give old CD player back to a ghost, since no sooner had she woken up than she found the man had gone, vanished in a plane thousands of feet above the earth.

Maybe I just thought it all up, her inner-doubt warned her, though the thoughts disappeared as she splashed cool water on her face and fixed her hair. Maybe you really don't look that sad, you just feel pathetic enough to pity. What were you thinking?

She's a villain, that's what she does!

She's human too. The thought struck her, a sudden epiphany that made the tears overflow from her eyes and gave her the sudden, inescapable urge to retch.

Kim Possible, saint among sinners and all around good girl, just admitted that she thinks no higher of the woman she married than anyone else calling her a monster.

She's probably been called that all her life, and I just… What have I done?

It was little wonder she'd reacted so coldly, so harshly. She had married Shego, she'd sle- Kim balked at the thought of having slept with her, but that itching guilt at the back of her mind wouldn't leave her alone. None-the-less, she'd gotten that close to the woman only to do what everyone else in her life before Drakken had done. Even after Kim had met Lisandro, or maybe, especially after that.

That kind old chef had looked to Shego like a daughter, had trusted her despite what the world had thought, despite having not known her. And yet, she, who promoted peace and love above all else, had practically spit in her face by even insinuating such a terrible crime from the rival that she knew. She'd known her for years, after all.

Before she could second-guess herself, Kim was already pulling her kimmunicator from her purse and dialing Wade. Before the boy genius could even look up to the screen, the video switched off, and Kim held the sturdy blue device to her ear.

"Uh, hey, Kim, what's up?" Wade asked, sounding, oddly enough, out of breath. "And why the black screen?"

"Sorry, Wade, in a bathroom right now." The confusion was evident by the silence. "A lady's room."

"Oh, right. The camera is sealed."

"And pointing in my ear, just in case you get any dirty thoughts," Kim joked, earning a good-natured chuckle from her friend. "I need you to do something for me, okay?"

"Of course, what do you need?"

Even knowing what to ask, she felt some anticipation. Not from what Wade would think, the thought never even occurred to her, but from seeing Shego again. Fear wasn't something she was used to, even with Ron. "I need you to find Shego, okay?" Ron… That brought up a whole other list of problems.

"You got it. And, Kim?"

"Yeah?"

"You might want to clear up your mess in Canada," Wade stated bluntly, quickly causing a lump to enter the hero's throat and refuse to leave. "Canadian officials are claiming you decked a woman in a overnight marriage parlor, they want you in for questioning on assault and battery. I haven't managed to get any more information than that."

"Oh," Was all Kim could say, not sure if she should be grateful or afraid for her life. "I'll deal with it. Is that what you've been trying to tell me?"

"For a while, yeah. And, Kim? Your bus is leaving."

Night had fallen and the beauty of Middleton under the streetlights was lost on Kim. Many things were lost on Kim right then, besides the worry chewing at her gut. She didn't notice the obvious tail that had followed her from the airport, idling just a block down from her parent's quiet suburbia house, nor the figure standing in the window of her house watching her trudge her way inside almost three hours past midnight.

Jetlag only served to further her exhaustion, and she immediately headed upstairs to her room, kicking away her borrowed shoes and shrugging off her borrowed clothes before she managed to collapse in bed. Even exhausted, sleep wouldn't come easy for her, and she stood up a moment longer to pull her ring out of her slacks, slipping it on.

She fell back into bed with a muffled thud, her hand up so the moonlight could strike it, just enough so that she could see the glimmer off the silver band. The minutes could tick away for all she cared, but the band of silver refused to let her go.

Maybe you should ask yourself what that means to you, cause it sure as hell meant a lot more to me. She fell asleep with her arm carelessly draped over herself, still oblivious to the other person awake in her home, and awoke no more rested then she had been the night before.

Her first day home in what felt like forever passed by about as regularly as she could expect; her dad drank his coffee and read the paper, her mother doted about before rushing off to work, things exploded as her brothers rushed around. After the morning she got used to the idea that even if some god was watching, no one outside Italy was. Her fears that some cataclysmic evil would tear the earth asunder at the very mention of kissing her wife seemed to be completely baseless.

That didn't stop the chewing guilt that was wracking her body and destroying her appetite. She was still going to have to tell her parents, and from the way her mother so casually mentioned Ron, her boyfriend too.

"I'm going to head out, see if I can meet Monique." She said, rushing off when the oppressing feelings got the better of her.

Before she'd even left the house her Kimmunicator was out and dialing. Behind her, her dad called out the friendly warning; "Be back before dinner!"

The seconds ticked away after she finished dialing, her walk urgent and skin clammy as the sweat that seemed to pour off her hit the cool air. The sooner she got everything into the open, the better, she felt. Not that the though made this any easier. If sitting at the breakfast table with her parents had done all this to her, she dreaded coming clean to the boy who had such love and admiration for her. After almost a minute, the ringing silenced, replaced by a low static. "Hey, KP!" Ron shouted in greeting, making her jerk her head away from the receiver. "We still on for Saturday?"

"Yeah. You want to get together sometime earlier?" She asked, chewing her lip nervously.

"Sure. Hey, I gotta run. Zombie Madness!"

With a final shout, and Felix cheering him on in the background, Ron disconnected. Kim almost felt angry at him, at a conversation that lasted less time than it took for him to pick up the phone, and she would have too, if not for the circumstances. There was the general feeling that she was going to be forgiving a lot of his mistakes because she'd made many that were ten times worse.

What that means to you…

It was all wrong. Her life was all wrong since Canada. The way she treated Shego, the way she treated Ron, her parents even. Not to mention she'd almost gotten killed in the last two days, and lied to pretty much everyone she'd ever cared about.

There was only one person in the world, and Kim knew this for a fact, that could help her right now. A sagely person who'd never failed her when asked for a advice, and had never turned her back despite what petty or major problems had been dumped on her lap.

Kim felt some of her stress alleviate just walking up to the sage's house, and crossing the rounded stone path that cut its way through the mangled grass of the yard around her. Even this entrance reminded her of her Shaolin training, and the path to the temple where Kim had received much of her most cryptic advice.

Today it wasn't a Shaolin master's door she knocked on, but the Pearman residence. The answer was the sharp yap of a poodle barking over the obnoxious bass of hip-hop music, which continued for several moments while a man stumbled toward the door from the other side, cursing the dog just loud enough for Kim to hear as he tripped over it.

The door finally swung open, and what greeted Kim was a sight she could almost laugh at. Standing before her was a young man, baggy pants practically down to his ankles, the only thing saving her from a truly interesting sight was his floral-print boxers and a jersey. In one arm was their poodle, yipping her heart away, though practically silenced by the music in the background.

"My prayers have been answered," He said, jutting lower lip curved up in a cocksure grin.

"Nice to see you too, Chris," Kim replied, feeling almost at ease for the first time in a while. This house was always hectic, but in a way, soothing. There was really no way to hear your thoughts over the sound of hip hop and pop played by the warring siblings, both played loud enough to vibrate the floor, just to drown the other out. "Is Monique home?"

He snorted, amused, tossing the dog off behind him to step back and let her in. "Does it sound like she's home?" He asked sarcastically, practically shouting over some rapper or another nearly being drowned out by, what Kim suspected to be, a Disney song.

"You two are going to go deaf if you keep this up." She warned.

Chris shrugged, pulling up his pants and heading off back into the living room. "Well, fuck, helps me concentrate, and damn if calculus doesn't take a lotta concentration." He said with a jovial laugh. As loud and obnoxious as he may have seemed to many, Kim found his charisma a breath of fresh air to her mood. "Guess you ain't here 'ta help me with that?"

"Calculus?" Kim asked in amusement. He'd finished cal years prior. "Naw, least not until I catch up in school. How's the job hunt going?"

"Gonna be a scientist! Fuck yeah!" He shouted, growing closer to the entertainment system in the living room, his voice shrinking under its constant beat.

Kim laughed, jogging up the familiar stairs she found herself at. Chris Pearman, for all his charisma and near-stereotypical appearance and personality, was one of the smartest people Kim knew, and that was saying a lot. She could only wonder how he did it, how he managed to fit in to so many different places while keeping so upbeat. Even going to college, working a night-shift job, and searching, or having found, a full-time position as a scientist couldn't keep him down.

Chris even had time for his sister and her friends. Something like that she found to be next to impossible, even given her reputation.

That infectious charisma left as quickly as it had come, and Kim found herself missing it as she got closer to Monique's room. She knew Monique to be impartial and wise beyond everyone else, but that only made her a little easier to talk to. Kim found herself chewing her lip again as she knocked on the door.

Steeling herself, and knowing that Monique probably couldn't hear her, she opened the door and slipped into the room, careful not to knock over anything as she entered. This house was a far cry for her quiet little home, not only being loud, but dark, relatively, as well as cluttered. Much of it wasn't junk, she knew, like the sowing machines she nearly kicked on her way in, or the weight sets lying around the hallway, but it was everywhere. In some places the walls were covered with shelves full of stuff, and she had to slip under a kayak in the hallway just to reach Monique.

The girl in question was humming and bobbing her head, her attention focused as much on her computer as the music coming from her headphones. Kim felt like scolding the girl for playing her music so loud if she wasn't going to listen to it, but she knew these siblings better than that.

She was half thankful that Monique noticed her within a few steps of her room, and quickly set about muting her headphones and drawing Kim into a quick hug. "Hey, Kim, how's it hangin' girl?"

"Bad, Mo'." Kim replied, returning her hug half-heartedly, then dropping down on the only non-cluttered surface available, Monique's bed.

"I see how it is," Monique said, her mischievously pursed grin lost on Kim. "You only come around to talk when you've got problems…" The accusation was followed up by a short sob and mock-tears.

"No! I've been busy, I-"

Monique cut her off with some laughter, clapping one hand on Kim's shoulder as she stood from her chair. "Chill, girl, just messin' with you." The girl turned back to her computer, taking a few more moments to save and close her windows, design documents from what Kim could see, before finally shutting down her stereo and turning back to Kim.

"'Kay, you've got my attention. Shoot."

"I screwed up, Monique. I screwed up bad," Kim groaned. She leaned back and hit the bed with a huff, covering her eyes with a draping arm. "I- I…"

"So bad you can't even tell me, huh?" Kim's reply to that was a practically nonexistent nod.

"I…" Despite all her attempts, Kim's words kept tapering off to a single, shuddering breath. It was just as hard as she'd imagined, maybe more so, since every time she started she'd think about what everyone else would say, would think, of her. Then she ended up thinking about Shego, the last few days around her. She hadn't even taken any of the credit for saving her, or for helping out in Italy, yet, Kim had still not trusted her. The more she questioned that, the more the started blaming her own petty self.

"GF, let's talk over breakfast, 'kay?" Monique suggested. In all their time together, she'd never known Kim to come to her with a problem she couldn't manage to talk about, so she knew it was bad.

The mess of red hair hidden behind a gray sweater bobbed, her shaky, near-tears, breath coming out much more clearly to the both of them since Chris' music had lowered too. Kim Possible crying. The thought of that alone was sad enough for Monique to take a seat beside her. Tenderly, almost lovingly, she stroked her friend's hair, waiting for the inaudible sobs to subside.

"You think tha's where it's at?" The man asked his partner, filling his empty stomach on a cold bagel and more coffee.

His partner could only shake his grizzled mug. He was leaning back in his seat, getting a few precious moments of rest, while the twitchy man in the dirty coat kept watch.

"Couldn't be, she hasn't been this way since she got here. Maybe she's dropping it off." Even resting, his suggestions sounded like sharp barks.

"Could be's." He responded. "Looked noi'vas enough gettin' he'e."

His partner laughed, characteristically short and sharp. "You're one to talk."

"Migh' well cowl it in," He told himself, ignoring the quip to finish off the last few scraps of his bagel, washing the tough bread down with the remainder of his coffee.

"Boss said no cells." The larger of the two reminded, not even bothering to open his eyes to tell that his twitchy partner had already pulled his cell phone out. With a sharp curse, he slipped the device back into his pocket. "Just call him later, we'll pick them up tomorrow."

"Feelin' better?" Monique asked, placing the cup of tea in front of the redheaded hero, who could still only nod in response.

She knew well enough that that was only half true. After all, she'd known her friend for far too long to not tell when her comparatively normal eyes were actually her equivalent of red and puffy.

For once, the Pearman household was entirely silent, not a drum or reverberating bass-line to be heard in the entire house. Kim sat at the hastily-cleared kitchen table, with Monique doting over her like the good friend she was, and Chris hanging back at the door to the kitchen, arms crossed and lips pursed.

"Want me to kick somebody's ass?" He asked, before Monique shooed him off.

"If I get a name, you can have my leftovers," Monique answered, her tone holding back veiled hostility and open threats.

Mo' quickly took her seat in front of the distraught teen, grasping both her hands in a soft grip, and practically willing the heroine to look in her eyes. "C'mon, girl, WTM?"

The expression Kim gave her was heart wrenching, eyes lowered, lips pouting, looking somewhat like an adorably sad puppy. "I screwed up, Mo'. She only wanted me to trust her, but I-"

"Wait- Wait, girl. Start at the beginning."

Kim nodded. "Ron and I went to Canada to stop Drakken," She started. "But it wasn't Drakken we were worried about. Shego tossed the place, blasted most the mountain."

"Mhmm," Monique said comfortingly.

"She'd gotten drunk I guess, doing hard shots up in the mountain. She called me out, challenged me..." Monique nodded, though her lips were pursed in disapproval. She knew where this was going, and knew full well that Kim couldn't turn down a challenge. "Next thing I know, I'm waking up in an apartment in Vancouver with this…"

She opened her hand and it clattered out over the table, wobbling slowly to a stop between them. The same silver band that had caused her so much trouble over these last few days. It would probably be the death of her, if not responsible for the most frustrating times of her life.

Monique picked it up, turned it over, read it, and turned back to Kim to find her head hidden behind her arms, face pressed down onto the table. Monique's eyes were understandably wide, but she managed to lick her lips and calm herself. This was clearly not the time to judge, nor the time to ask the girl what the hell she was thinking, as it was quite clear that she wasn't.

"Keep going," She ordered, tone stern.

"We met up in Italy during the quake over there. I thought she was looting," Kim practically pleaded, "I was so stupid!"

"Why?"

"Because she's not like that. She doesn't steal from people who can't afford it, she doesn't take advantage of these situations." She huffed disgustedly at herself. "And Shego was so nice to me. She saved me, she took me out to eat, showed me her friends… Yet, I thought she was grave robbing. Now she thinks I think she's a monster. I'm no better than anyone who's ever called her a monster just because of her job, or even made fun of her because of her skin."

The last part caused Monique to pause, trying her best to put this situation into something she could relate to, though it didn't seem to help. She had never had to deal with racism here, especially not mutation-caused racism.

Mo' had to stop and think for what seemed like ever to her. This wasn't some little problem she could just dispense advice to, just the wrong mention of Shego could get someone thrown in jail. Not to mention Kim's parents, if they found out that Monique had kept this from them… And Ron, it'd crush his poor little heart.

But there it was, and with her mind, it clicked in two seconds flat. All the years Kim and Shego had fought, all the frustration they had caused each other, and the times they'd attempted to best each other. Even the quips she'd heard about. And now, to hear Kim crying across the table from her, but not over Ron, not over her parents, or the authorities.

"GF… You're gay for her." Monique said flat out, unbiased and unwavering.

"What?" Kim shouted, shooting up in her chair.

"Face it, girl. You came for my advice, and there you have it." Regardless, she laid a soothing hand down on one of Kim's, and looked her hard in the eyes again. "You should be worried about what the cops think of you getting lovey-dovey with the most wanted woman in the world. That is, if they get to you before your 'rents skin you alive, after Ron has a heart attack."

If anything, she looked even more afraid now, but still not over what Monique felt she should be. "I am!" Kim protested.

"Maybe," Mo' relented, "But this would be a lot easier if you weren't gay for her."

"Can you stop saying that?"

"Fine," Monique threw her hands up in peace, "This would be a lot easier if you didn't have feelings for her."

"I don't." She insisted. "I love Ron, and I don't want this to hurt him."

"But if Ron was Mister Right, you'd be here asking how to keep him."

"I don't know what I'll do when my parents and the world find out."

"They aren't priority numero uno either," Mo' pointed out. "I know you, girl, I know when you're hurtin', and where the hurt is, and right now, that hurt ain't on the world, or your boy. That hurt is right there," As she spoke, she leaned forward, putting a finger down on Kim's chest, right above her breasts. "And that hurt is about her."

"I-"

"Hold up, I ain't done yet. I don't know anything about this woman, why you feel for her like you do, or whether she deserves your pity or my scorn. But, girl, you'd have to be stupid not to have noticed the effect she has on you." Monique leaned forward, once more locking her gaze on Kim's. She had a power when she was like that, a charismatic power, not unlike her brother's, to influence the very soul of whoever she locked eyes on, and she was using it. "But it sounds to me like you're the one who's wronged her, so I don't really care.

"Now, you know what you've got to do, who you've got to be speaking to. And priority number one does not include your BF or your 'rents, got me?" She finished, but kept her gaze locked until Kim, silent of her protests for now, nodded meekly.

"But, I'm not-"

"GF… KP- Kim, look at me, good. I'm not the one you've got to convince that you're not gay, now am I?" Kim swallowed the lump in her throat, but it was clear that Monique's words had gotten through, for the most part. "I've done my own share of experimenting, so you don't have to be worry none about me."

"You've..?" Kim's eyes practically bulged from their sockets before. She had never considered the topic before, but she'd never had a reason to suspect Monique of doing anything like that. Monique may have never been prim and proper, but- Where did she even find someone to do that with?

"You really want to hear about it?" For once, the heroine wasn't even sure she did. She couldn't nod, but couldn't shake her head either. Monique took that as a sign to continue, leaning forward with a mischievous grin sporting her face.

It took time, it took skill, and it took the help of her best friend, but before the morning was over, Kim's mind was finally off her troubles, and focused on keeping her sides from splitting.