Shego opened her eyes and breathed in the hot, dry Los Angeles air. Overhead was the ceiling of her apartment, still a bit unfamiliar after only a week of sleeping there. On the nightstand next to her, the radio alarm blared with the sound of an early morning traffic report. Shego shut it off with a flip of the switch and sat up.

She ran a hand through her long black hair, still tangled from a night asleep. Throwing back the sheets, Shego put her feet to the floor and began doing her morning stretches. Up and down and back and forth. The price I pay for keeping in shape, she thought to herself. The meteor powers probably gave her an edge (it was hard to tell sometimes, she'd lived with them so long) but she needed exercise to keep that edge sharp.

After the stretches came the morning routine. One-armed push-ups, sit-ups, jogging in place, she ran through them all. There was a limit to what Shego could do on her bedroom floor, of course, but this wasn't anything serious, just a little morning maintenance. After a while she stopped, sweat starting to build up, and headed for the shower.

Random thoughts wandered through her head as the water poured over her. I wonder if Kimmie has her own morning routine? I'll bet she does. I wonder what Dr. D would think if I suggested taping it? He'd probably get uncomfortable and nervous; the old guy can be so 'proper' about things sometime. It would be worth suggesting just to make him squirm. Shego smiled at the thought of Drakken squirming as she turned off the shower. It was one of her major sources of entertainment.

The smile faded as she put on her uniform and contemplated the last step of her morning routine. She was tempted to just blow it off and cook something for breakfast, but…. I already skipped all weekend, Shego thought.

With a sigh, she settled into the ground and carefully folded her legs into a meditative posture. Oh, I really hate this; oh, I really hate this, were the mantras running through her mind as she tried to control her breathing. It was difficult. Shego was not what you would call a serene person by nature, but at last she reached a place she could tell herself was harmony. With a sigh of relief, she immediately let it go and stood up. Some techniques were definitely more fun than others to practice.

A toast and two eggs later, and Shego was riding her motorcycle to the new Los Angeles lair. It was a large office complex with an attached bay for machinery and experiments. When Shego had helped steal it, everything had been well-lit and clean on the inside. Of course, Drakken had insisted on breaking or dimming a lot of the lights for atmosphere, but you still couldn't beat the location. Being able to drive home to a private apartment every day was a nice luxury, compared to the more remote lairs.

One of the henchmen was standing guard duty just inside the door. Shego didn't recognize him under the usual cowl and visor. Not that I care about getting to know these guys, she thought. A 'hey you' and one is as good as another.

"Hey you, where's Drakken?" demanded Shego.

He gestured inside and grunted, "In the lab."

Shego checked the clock and made a disgusted noise. "Of course he is. So either he's in early, which I'm somehow not seeing, or he never went to sleep."

The henchman just stared back, making Shego feel foolish for wasting her time bantering with him. She made herself feel better by casually shoving him to the side as she walked in, knowing that he (whoever he was) wouldn't dare respond.

Shego looked around the laboratory, unable to immediately spot Drakken. Naturally, this annoyed her. The place was bigger than his usual labs, consisting of a huge bay with all sorts of equipment blocking line of sight in all directions. Rather than call for him, she scrambled to the top of some machinery and looked around. Nope, nope, ah- there he is at that bench. Right next to the- what is that thing doing here! Shego thought.

She jumped easily from machine to machine, crossing the room in an instant, before landing neatly next to Drakken. "Late night, Dr. D?" she asked.

Drakken had his head bent over a magazine, apparently engrossed in an article within. He grunted a response, not even looking up.

Of course, Shego reacted in a calm, reasoned manner. She ripped the magazine out of his hands and looked at the article herself. Drakken howled a protest, which she naturally ignored. She did say, "Okay, article appears to be about the reproductive habits of African elephants. Struggling to think of a reason this isn't a complete waste of your time to read. Struggling… struggling… failing."

Drakken was trying to put together a response, but he interrupted himself with a massive yawn. There were dark circles under his eyes. Well, there were always dark circles under his eyes, of course, but just at the moment they seemed darker than usual. His lab coat was wrinkled and was just beginning to acquire a certain odor, and he seemed to have a hard time keeping his eyes open, now that Shego had broken him out of whatever trance he had put himself in.

In consideration of Drakken's state of exhaustion, Shego patiently waited while he reset his brain to conversational mode. I'm such a sweetheart, she told herself.

"I can't afford to fall behind in any field of science, Shego," said Drakken. He made a grab for the magazine, which Shego artfully kept away from him.

"Okay, have we or have we not discussed this before, Doc? You are not a zoologist. You're barely a biologist. Mad science or not, one guy can't be an expert at everything." As she spoke, Shego rolled up the magazine and gently batted Drakken on the side of his head with it to make her point.

He shook off the blow in irritation. "I am the world's greatest genius! I can at the very least keep current on what's going on in all fields of science, even the ones that aren't… er, that aren't my specialties."

Shego just shrugged, indicating that she was giving up the argument, and she tossed the magazine back on the workbench. I have to give him credit, he tries so hard sometimes I think he really is an expert on twenty things at once. If he'd only read something not science-related once in a while, Shego thought. Of course she didn't say it aloud. Drakken's ego didn't need any stroking right now.

"What are you doing here this late?" asked Drakken.

"Someone's not paying attention to the clock. Oh look, it's you. It's morning, Doc. You worked through the entire night, and believe me, you're not a pretty sight right now."

Drakken glanced down at his coat and made a feeble effort to brush it off. "I had some work to get done," he said without much confidence.

Shego put one finger to the side of her face and put on an expression of fake interest. "Really. Interesting you should say that, because I was wondering about your work. In specific, THAT THING! What is that doing here? It wasn't here when I left." She pointed at an object towering over the both of them, about ten feet away.

'That thing' was a thirty foot tall oak tree. It was alive, rooted in a tub of soil large enough to fill a large fountain, and it had obviously been moved there by means of heavy equipment. A skylight above gave it some sunlight, though Shego doubted it would survive if left in the laboratory very long.

Drakken worked his jaw thoughtfully, trying to recall the answer to Shego's question. He pointed towards the top branches of the oak tree. "Well you see, it…." He trailed off.

Shego and Drakken both looked up towards the tree, trying to figure out what Drakken had been about to say. Their faces held identical expressions of puzzlement.

Finally, Shego glared back at Drakken. "I can't say I haven't been expecting this day. I knew you'd finally lose it completely sooner or later. I just thought we'd be in a remote lair in the mountains. Snow and ice, drives a man to madness every time. Who loses their grip on reality in LA?"

"Be quiet Shego, I've had a busy night," said Drakken. He correctly interpreted Shego's current fit of pique as one those times when she was being sarcastic just to hear herself talk and not to be taken seriously. He was proven correct when Shego just rolled her eyes and tossed her hair in response.

Drakken's gaze passed over the jumble of objects on his workbench. Oak… oak… oak. Sprayer. Test, chemical test, he thought. Finally he spotted a small basket of acorns, and managed to dig up the memory he had been searching for.

"Ah-hah!" Drakken said. He grabbed an acorn out of the basket, and using a small hammer kept next to it for just such a purpose, cracked it open. Spinning, he reached out and pushed the acorn meat into Shego's mouth. So unexpected was the move that Shego did nothing to prevent it.

She chewed thoughtfully. "It's sweet," she said.

"Yes Shego. About one in two hundred oak trees have a genetic mutation that makes their acorns sweet instead of bitter. Unfortunately, it's a combination of alterations to several genes, so growers have never been able to get those kinds of trees to breed true," said Drakken. There was a note of pleasure in his voice. Even if it wasn't an evil scheme, he always did enjoy explaining things. It gave him a most wonderful feeling of superiority.

"So this is one of those mutant trees?" asked Shego.

"Not at all! It used to grow your ordinary bitter acorns, until I sprayed it with a special chemical of mine. I had it trucked in to check to results and look. Sweet acorns all around!" Drakken spread his arms wide in triumph. "Who's barely a biologist now, Shego? Who, I ask you?"

"Yeah, good one, doc. Why did you do this again?" said Shego in a not particularly enthused tone.

"Well I…." Drakken froze, thinking again. "It was some time ago. I think I had some plan of spraying the world's crops to make them… something, something. It never quite panned out. But the important thing is that I succeeded."

Before Shego could launch more sarcasm, Drakken let out an enormous yawn. He rubbed his eyes. "Well, now that you've interrupted my chain of thought so thoroughly, Shego, I believe I'm going to get some sleep. Don't go anywhere. I'm sure I'll have some errands for you this afternoon."

He had just stumbled a few paces towards the exit, when Shego's voice stopped him. "Doctor Drakken?"

"Yes, Shego?"

"Did you keep any notes on how you made the chemical that makes the sweet acorns?" Shego asked, her voice very business-like.

"Why… yes, in the green notebook on the bench. I pulled it out to check when the tree arrived. Why?" asked Drakken, very tired.

"I'm going to shoot it off to Malcom," said Shego.

"Malcom? Excellent, Shego. Excellent. This would be the sort of thing for him, wouldn't it? You give him a call," said Drakken as he walked out of the room.

Shego waited until her boss had retreated from sight, then dug around until she found the appropriate notebook. She pulled out her cell phone and looked at it reluctantly. I hate talking to Malcom, she thought. There was no help for it, though, and Shego dialed the number.

There were a couple of rings, and then a cool male voice with a slight British accent came on the line. "Ah, Ms. Shego. I was just about to call you. How nice of you to anticipate me."

Shego gritted her teeth. "I'm not anticipating you, Malcom. I called because Dr. Drakken wants you to do your job. He's come out with something. Plant product, so one of the ones with some kind of botanical background."

"No need to discuss this over the phone, Ms. Shego. I'm awaiting you outside the building. Please come out and escort me in past the guard, will you? Many thanks." There was a click as Malcom abruptly hung up.

Shaking with anger, Shego tore a huge chunk out of the workbench using her claws and green plasma. How dare he talk to me like that, she thought. As if I work for him and he can order me around. Just because he worked for Drakken before I came on board. If Dr. D didn't need what he does.…

She forced herself to calm down. After a moment, she walked back to the entrance, taking a deliberately circuitous route so as to make Malcom wait.

When Shego finally stepped outside, however, Malcom gave no sign of impatience. He was contriving to use his time productively, working on his PDA. Malcom looked to be in his fifties and was dressed in a tastefully tailored business suit. Shego could never quite place his ethnicity. He looked vaguely Asian, vaguely Arabic, vaguely a lot of things. Not that Shego put much thought into Malcom or his parentage. She didn't like thinking of him much at all.

Shego walked up next to Malcom. He ignored her, continuing to type something on his PDA. She gave a grunt to attract his attention, but there was still no reaction. Finally, she peeked over his shoulder, trying to see what he was typing. Just as she did, however, he closed his PDA and looked up at her. "Ah, Ms. Shego. Apologies, was just finishing up an important email."

"What are you doing here, Malcom?" said Shego.

"I was coming through LA on business. Since our mutual employer has settled in a major metropolitan center for once, I thought I'd stop and drop off some papers that need signing, check in and see how Drew is doing, that sort of thing." Malcom smiled, showing clean white teeth.

"That's Drakken, not Drew," snarled Shego.

"Oh, of course. It's just that I've been in his employ so long, I still sometimes think of him as Drew. He's most understanding of my slip-ups."

The most galling thing was that he was right. Shego had seen Drakken calmly ignore it when Malcom occasionally called him 'Drew'. It was a name that Drakken otherwise only tolerated coming from his mother. One of the henchmen using it would be the equivalent of attempted suicide, and even Shego herself would only use 'Drew' if she wanted to make Drakken angry.

"This is a bad time," said Shego. "He's been up working all night, and he just went to bed. Give me the papers, and I'll make sure he signs them."

Malcom cocked his head, and for a moment Shego wondered if he was going to argue with her. I'd really love an excuse to wipe that smug look off his face, thought Shego. Unlike her, Malcom was surely replaceable.

However, he only said, "Of course. Another time then. Let me just get those papers." He picked up his briefcase and opened it, retrieving a folder of documents that he passed to Shego.

Shego took them with a grunt.

"Now then, you were saying on the phone that Drakken has come out with something new?" said Malcom. For the first time, there was a genuine avaricious enthusiasm in his voice.

"Yeah. He invented this chemical spray for oak trees. You spray it on an oak, and it makes them produce sweet acorns instead of bitter acorns. I figure it'll be worth money to the food industry or the farmers, or something." Shego extended the green notebook, which Malcom quickly accepted.

"Oh, I'm sure I can sell this to an interested party, and I know just the identity to use, too. Michael Greensborough, noted chemist with a sideline in botany. He hasn't produced anything since the chemical distilled from zucchinis that cures foot fungus," said Malcom, positively beaming. He added, "I don't mind saying Ms. Shego, it's been a bit of a dry spell lately. I was getting concerned."

This was the secret pipeline that fed Drakken's schemes. Even though Drakken, with Shego's assistance, outright stole what he needed whenever he could, there was a lot of overhead involved in conquering the world. Lairs had to be furnished, components had to be ordered, trees had to be transplanted, groceries had to be bought, and salaries had to be paid. Shego was most insistent on this last one.

Fortunately, Drakken was a mad genius with a lot of ideas. A lot of ideas. Most of them, granted, were bad ideas. Idiotic, even. By rough estimation, Shego figured that maybe 1 in 7 of Drakken's ideas were what she termed "non-stupid". Of these, Drakken occasionally developed one to the point where someone, somewhere would pay money for it. That was where Malcom came in. He was a combination of lawyer and accountant, and it was his job to sell the technology through a variety of cover identities and launder the money safely back to Drakken. Of course, Drakken would never sell off anything he thought would actually help him conquer the world, but a lot of his research projects ended up wandering off in directions he hadn't meant to go. His failed death rays alone had probably advanced certain areas of laser technology 50 years.

Shego neither knew nor cared about the financial details. It wasn't her area. She had, however, once taken great pleasure in demonstrating to Malcom what she would do to him if he was ever discovered taking more than his fair share of the proceeds (whatever that was). If it had made Malcom nervous, he hadn't shown it in the slightest.

There was, Shego occasionally thought, a certain irony in the fact that Drakken's inventions had probably helped a lot more people than they had ever harmed. Of course, that was because his attempts to harm people with them were regularly foiled, but it would still have looked a bit funny if certain segments of the villainous community knew about it.

Shego made a dismissive noise in answer to Malcom's concerns. "It's hit or miss with big blue. No predicting it. You should know that by now. If it makes you feel any better, I'm taking him working through the night as a sign he's about to go into one of his manic phases. We ought to be seeing a lot of ideas from him. We'll see if any of them are good ideas."

Malcom nodded. "There is, ah, one thing more. Joel Kord, an identity I've used to sell a lot of the laser projects. Apparently there's a small lawsuit arising from one of his inventions. It might be a bit tricky if-"

"Blah, blah, blah," interrupted Shego. "You take care of it. That's what you're there for."

Malcom sighed. "Oh course. A pleasure as always, Ms. Shego." He tucked the green notebook safely into his briefcase and walked back to the street, hailing a cab.

Shego nodded in satisfaction and walked back inside.

Drakken pushed open the door of the office he'd chosen as his living quarters. None of the rooms in the building had really been intended as apartments, but this one had been intended for a high-level executive who might occasionally need to stay overnight when working on a project. Consequently, it had an attached bathroom with a small shower.

Drakken hadn't had the time or desire to put a lot of effort into decorating the place. There was a chest of drawers with spare clothing, a bed, and a picture of his mother on the wall. In his drowsy state, Drakken looked at the room as if seeing it for the first time. Not exactly appropriate for the future ruler of the world, he thought.

Before he could stop it, his brain was already off and running. He thought, Install an intercom so I can boom commands through the lair whenever I feel like it. Maybe a smoke generator so that if anyone stops by, it will seem like a dark and mysterious lair of evil. Of course, that'll make it hard to breathe… better add some oxygen masks along the wall and-

Rapidly slapping himself in the head brought the flow of thoughts to a halt. Sleep, he needed sleep. This was no time to get sidetracked onto lair design. Drakken stripped down to his boxers and an undershirt. As always, his fingers felt a bit sensitive when he first pulled them out of the protective gloves he usually wore. As he was considering this, he collapsed onto the bed.

Sleep failed to come immediately. One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, pi sheep, Drakken counted off to himself. I wonder if I could invent a gas to make people grow a wool coat like a sheep. If I sprayed it in the summer, that could drive them out of hot cities. No, that's silly. I should create something that will make grass digestible like sheep can eat it. Then destroy the rest of the food supply, and people will have to serve me if they want to be able to eat the grass. Or maybe I could alter the wool of sheep so that anyone wearing clothing made from it will obey my commands. Or I could create robot sheep and use them to replace regular sheep, spreading them over the world until my robot sheep army arises to conquer the world for me. With laser beam eyes and baaahhing that doubles as a sonic blast, thought Drakken.

With a moan, Drakken sat up on bed. He came to the unpleasant realization that he wasn't going to be able to get to sleep. Not with all these ideas spilling out of his brain at the slightest provocation. It was the downside of being a mad genius. You couldn't just shut it off when you wanted to.

Perhaps I should go have breakfast, thought Drakken. Yes, some coffee and cereal with a little moo-juice, and I'll feel much better.

He started to put back on his clothing, then reconsidered. A shower first. I don't need Shego wrinkling up her nose at me again. So Drakken used the office-apartment's small shower and emerged with damp hair, feeling refreshed. He slipped into new clothes along with his usual coat, boots, and gloves, but decided not to pull his hair back into its standard ponytail. Instead he left it swinging free so it could dry.

The cafeteria was only a short distance away, and soon Drakken was snacking on some cheerios and milk, a steaming cup of coffee already waking him up. He perked up as one of the henchmen came into the cafeteria. Though dressed in standard uniform, the henchman was carrying a newspaper and getting a cup of coffee, evidentially on break.

The henchman turned away from the coffee machine and observed the cafeteria. Drakken sat upright, carefully not saying anything. The henchman looked at the many empty seats at Drakken's table, then carefully chose a different table on the other side of the cafeteria. Drakken slumped in disappointment.

Soon another henchman came in and got his own cup of coffee. Again Drakken sat upright. This time he whistled, making sure the henchman heard him. "Good morning," said Drakken. The henchmen nodded in response, then quickly crossed to the other side of the room and sat with his coworker. The two began conversing in quiet tones. Once again, Drakken resumed his position of slumped disappointment.

Yet a third henchman entered the room, intent on the coffee machine. This time, Drakken went so far as to say, "Plenty of chairs at this table."

The henchmen coughed uncomfortably and said, "Sure sir. I've just got… some things… with the guys over there." He retreated to the other side of the room and joined the other others.

Drakken sat and toyed with his cereal until he heard the expected grunts and choked incoherent exclamations from the table on the other side of the room. He picked up his tray and carried it to the trash. As he passed the henchman table, he said, "This is all your fault, you know! If you'd just sat with me, I might have mentioned the experimental language center suppressant drug I put in the coffee, and we could have tested the antidote. But oh no, you had to go sit in your little henchmen clique. Well now you can just go and fail to talk each other until it wears off and you can report to me on how it works!"

He stalked off in righteous indignation, not reflecting that with their language centers suppressed, the henchmen probably hadn't understood a word he just said.

Shego sat in her office at the top of some stairs on one side of the lab area. She had chosen this spot for its good view of the lab floor, figuring that if one of Drakken's experiments started rampaging, she'd be able to see it quickly. Just at the moment, however, her eyes were occupied with a motorcycle magazine.

"What do you want?" said Shego, not taking her eyes off the magazine.

There was a sound from the doorway of a throat being cleared. "Ah, they said I should come here to be interviewed, ma'am. I'm John Carter, the new hire."

Shego looked away from her magazine in annoyance. Carter looked to be about Shego's age or slightly older, which was to say in his early twenties. The lack of confidence in his posture and tremor in his voice made him seem younger. He was slightly built, which combined with his brown hair, brown eyes, and attitude, made Shego think of a mouse. She doubted that he had been hired as 'muscle'.

"Yeah, we have someone for that. Verostick. I don't know why you were told to come up here," said Shego.

"They said that Mr. Verostick had been fired by Dr. Drakken, ma'am," supplied Carter.

"What! Wait, fired as in out of a job, or fired as in…" Shego made her right hand erupt into green flame and waved it back and forth.

Carter watched the flame as if hypnotized. He managed to stutter out, "They- the fellow at the door didn't say."

"Oh for- Fine, let me see your resume." Shego held out her hand and snapped her fingers, indicating that Carter should hurry it up.

He hesitantly took out a sheet of paper and placed it in her hand, some of his hesitation perhaps coming from the fact that the hand had been wreathed in flame only moments before.

Shego took the resume and scanned it quickly. "Science geek, yadda-yadda. Here to assist in Dr. D's lab work, I'm guessing. So tell me, Carter, what makes you want to work for Dr. Drakken?"

Carter's face took on an expression of enthusiasm. "A chance to work for one of the greatest scientific minds of our generation? How could I pass it up? The thought that Dr. Drakken would actually pick me to-"

"Eaagh," interrupted Shego. "No more. Spare me, here. I can already tell what sort of bootlicking got you the job, so I won't even bother asking about that."

Carter looked resentful at this statement. At this faint sign of rebellion, Shego narrowed her eyes and glared at him until he looked at the floor in fright.

Not so stupid, thought Shego. "Here's a few ground rules, my eager young newbie. I am Shego. I do anything important for Dr. Drakken that needs doing. You are here to do anything unimportant that needs doing. You will do whatever I say, whenever I say it, or I will break you in half like a toothpick. I'm not going to say the same for obeying Dr. Drakken. If you choose to defy him, that's your own call, and I'm sure I'll get many hours of entertainment out of whatever he does to you in response."

Shego smiled at Carter. Then she pulled out a nail file and began sharpening the claws on her glove as she continued. Carter wisely waited patiently for her to start talking again.

"You'll notice that I argue with Drakken a lot, and I even call him names sometimes. I can do this for three reasons. One, he's scared of me. Two, he can't do without me. Three, it's my job to tell him when he's being stupid. It is not your job to tell him when he's being stupid. I suggest that you do not try to do my job for me, but I'm sure it'll be fun to watch if you do, given that reasons one and two don't apply to you."

Carter gulped, but protested, "Dr. Drakken is a genius! He's not stupid."

Shego sighed. "He's a genius… some of the time. He's going to rule the world one day… he says. I've said all I can say; you be the judge from here."

She began ticking off points on her fingers. "Since you're a science-type, the uniform isn't mandatory, but you can wear it if you feel like or if Drakken is looking for an experimental subject and you want to blend in. Work begins at 8:00 every day, or whenever Drakken shows up at the lab and wants you to be there, doing something for him. If you need vacation time, post it on the henchman's intranet schedule at least a week in advance. You can grab a room in the lair if you want it, subject to seniority. If you want to live outside the lair, we're subject to relocation at zero notice. Let's see, am I forgetting anything? Oh yeah, betraying us to any legal authorities will result in you being fired."

"Fired or fired?" asked Carter.

Shego made both her hands erupt into flames and held them inches away from each side of Carter's head, close enough so the heat made him sweat. "What do you think?" she said with an evil smile.

Her hands extinguished, Shego went to the door and made motions to usher out Carter. "Okay, that's it. I suggest you wander around the lab until Drakken pops out. You can introduce yourself to him then. He's easy to spot. Just look for the guy with the scar underneath his eye." She paused to consider, then added, "And blue skin."

"Ummm," said Carter as he walked out the doorway. "Isn't there anything else you can tell me?"

"Hmm. Yeah, don't drink the office coffee unless you made it yourself. A lot of guys never seem to pick that one up," said Shego. She punctuated this statement by giving Carter a little shove to send him on his way.

As Carter stumbled down the stairs, Shego watched in amusement. She was interrupted by a fly buzzing in her ear, and she waved it away in annoyance. Spooking the newbies is fun, thought Shego to herself.

For a while, she tried to go back to reading her motorcycle magazine, but Shego quickly realized that talking to Carter had gotten her blood flowing and she needed to work it off. Since there was no work to be done- Or rather no work to be done that she wasn't palming off on the henchmen, Shego decided to indulge herself in a workout.

The exercise room wasn't all that much. It was just a large open room that had been cleared out for exercise and fighting practice. Its only significant features were a closet where some basic exercise equipment was stored, pads that could be laid down on the floor for safety during practice, and the combat robot in the corner.

The combat robot was there for Shego's use, after she had insisted that Drakken build it for her. There was no rule as such, preventing any of the henchmen or indeed Drakken himself from using it for practice. The clamps at the end of its arms had been carefully padded to minimize damage if it struck someone with them, and its midsection had been similarly padded so a would-be warrior could strike it without damaging themselves or the robot. Still, ever since what had happened to henchman whatzisname when the robot's off-switch and safety protocols had accidentally stopped working, Shego had been the sole person to make use of the robot. Shego, of course, was not worried about getting hurt but only about getting too excited and destroying the robot by accident. If she did that, she would have to nag Drakken until he made another one, and that would be a pain.

Shego started stretching, making sure her body was limber. Then she activated the robot and began sparring with it. The robot only had a few basic attack routines, but Shego tried to keep things varied up on her end. First she'd only attack with her right fist. Then only with her left fist. Then only kicks. Then she forced herself to keep one foot on the ground at all times, reducing her options for dodging. Shego wasn't using her green plasma or even hitting with all her strength, so the robot took all her blows with ease. It landed precisely one hit on her, when she was trying a particularly fancy move.

Kind of embarrassing, but it's not like anyone saw and it didn't hurt that much, thought Shego. Still, this isn't satisfying.

Shego halted the robot and stood there for a while, controlling her breathing. She knew what she wanted to do. Somewhere inside she knew that it probably wasn't a particularly healthy thing to do, but she found she could rationalize it without much effort. Personalized targets. People do it all the time. It'll help keep me focused, make it easier to prepare for the real thing. This isn't weird at all, thought Shego to herself in assurance.

Having assured herself it wasn't weird, Shego proceeded to lock the doors and do a quick sweep of the walls to make sure that Drakken hadn't installed security cameras without telling her. This of course, had nothing whatsoever to do with the not weird thing she was about to do.

Shego went to the supply closet and opened the door. Inside, she located a trunk marked 'Shego: Keep Out!'. It was locked with a small padlock, which Shego opened with casual skill using a lock pick. Shego rarely bothered with keys, since it was so easy to lose them. In no time at all, Shego had removed one of the trunk's contents and carefully fitted it over the robot's head.

It was a mask of Kim Possible's face. Shego had built it using her movie magic kit, and it was a fairly good likeness. Shego studied her handiwork and reminded herself again not to swing at the robot's head, since it might damage the mask. Then she activated the robot.

"Hey Kimmie, you've put on a little weight," said Shego to the robot as it lumbered towards her. She dodged the robot's initial swing and added, "So sorry pumpkin, not today."

Shego continued to speak as she sparred with the robot. "So let me tell you about today. I did the entrance interview for this feeb named Jon Carter. Okay, but I'm getting ahead of myself. First I came in this morning, and the big blue ox had been up all night. Can you believe it?"

Drakken studied the new recruit, John Carter. "So do you know anything about doomsday devices?" he asked.

Carter gulped. "It wasn't an area they covered at school, sir. Dr. Drakken. Sir. But I'm sure I could learn whatever you need me to learn.

I could use him as an experimental subject for that wool coat growing project, thought Drakken. He thrust his head forward and squinted his left eye at Carter, trying to judge how thick the man's natural hair was. A mild sweat broke out on Carter's brow when he saw how Drakken was looking at him.

No, no, no, thought Drakken, correcting himself. You decided to put that on hold for a few months, remember Drew? I'm doing the idea from breakfast, continuing work on Project Firebreak. I could use someone to do the grunt work on that one.

"Oh course, son" said Drakken. He threw back his head and gave a merry-yet-maniacal laugh. "I'll teach you everything you need to know. And what you need to know now is that there's a machine in that cabinet that need to be moved to the top of my workbench."

Carter opened the indicated cabinet and, using a mechanical lift, levered the machine inside to the workbench. Drakken gathered his tools in the meantime. After finishing, Carter carefully asked, "What is this thing, Dr. Drakken?"

"It's the core of a machine that will be just what I need to conquer the world, Mr. Carter," said Drakken. He threw back his head and gave a full-throated villainous laugh.

Elsewhere.

In a dark room, a figured cloaked in shadows watched Drakken's laughter displayed on a small video screen. The figure stroked a chihuahua sitting in his lap and considered what to do next. Finally he spoke, seemingly to himself.

"No, Mr. Lipsky. I rather think that machine will be what I need to conquer world. You are going to assist me, like it or not, and you and your sidekick will not get in my way."

A metal hand reached out and tapped two files lying on the table in front of the figure. One was labeled 'Lipsky, Andrew'. The other was simply labeled, 'Shego'. The metal fingers of the hand tapped the table as the figure thought, then clenched into a fist.

"Order the travel engines started, Alpha. It's almost time."

A figured dressed in black, who had been nearly invisible in the shadows, stepped out and bowed. "It will be done."

Author's Notes:

I hope I haven't lost a lot of readers who glanced at the altered show opening and then decided not to read any further. Let me know if anybody's reading this, please. (And if you do, let me know your favorite bits. I like to know what's entertaining the audience.)

The inside of a villain's head is a very scary place, isn't it? Cree-py. Not much action this time, but I think it's well set-up to break loose next chapter. I just thought I'd show a bit of 'daily life' for Drakken and Shego first. Hope it entertained.

Drakken's method of gaining funding was cheerfully stolen from Elliot S! Maggin's depiction of Lex Luthor. I try to steal only from the best. But it does make sense, doesn't it? Personally, I don't view Drakken as less of a genius because he steals (or even buys) so much technology. Being an expert in everything ain't easy. The fact that he manages as much as he does is impressive.

Thanks to Jezrianna2.0, PoisonousAngel, and Blackfire 18 for their comments. Jez, I don't think that the opener is a rules violation. It's not just an author's note or a placeholder; it tells the story of Shego and Drakken stealing the shows opener and what they do with it. So I'm going to chance leaving it as is for now. Thanks for trying to help, though.