Thanks to: MatthewC, scottgrubb, Triaxx2, campy, Wanderer3, eckles, Cold-Chaos, Mountain King, Robert Teague, daywalkr82 and mattb3671.
"More meatloaf, Ron?" Kim asked incredulously, as Ron took a third helping from the platter in the center of the Possible's dining room table.
Ron turned as he settled the portion on his plate. "Uh, yeah," he mocked playfully. "Not only is your Mom's meatloaf mue bueno," Ron proclaimed, "I'm a growing boy."
Kim's eyes flicked to her mother, who was smiling at the compliment, then back to Ron, who was already raising a piece to his mouth.
"Are you at least going to save room for dessert?" she asked doubtfully.
Ron gave her a wounded look.
"I always save room for dessert," he answered, as if hurt that she would doubt him.
Kim's lips quirked into a fond grin. Ron was definitely growing. Shorter than her since before puberty, he'd lately begun a growth spurt that had him threatening to draw even with, if not surpass her. Kim let the grin spread into a smile, then resumed picking at her own food. She was still working on her first helping, not having much of an appetite.
"So," Ron asked, still chewing, "Are we on for tomorrow night, or did 'something else' come up?"
Kim frowned at him, as much for talking with his mouth full as for mentioning her love life...such as it was. She sighed. "Yes, we're on," she answered. At her parents' inquisitive looks Kim explained, her cheeks heating, "I was going to ask Josh if he wanted to go to the movies." She sighed again, dramatically. "But, as usual, I couldn't form a coherent sentence in his presence."
Kim's mom started to say something comforting and reassuring, but was cut off by Jim and Tim chanting, "Kim's got a boy-friend, Kim's got a boy-friend."
Kim's mom frowned, Kim herself glared, and Kim's dad cleared his throat.
"Be that as it may," he said uncomfortably, before turning to Kim with an apologetic look. "I'm afraid you're going to have to give Ronald a rain-check, Kimmie. Tomorrow is family game night."
"I know, Dad," Kim said, "But I was hoping I could flake."
"Your cousin Larry is really looking forward to you coming over," Mr. Dr. Possible said pointedly, and Kim wilted.
"June," Mrs. Dr. Possible said, referring to her sister, "says Larry never has friends over."
"That's because Larry is the biggest dweeb on the planet," Jim groused.
"Now, Jim," Mr. Dr. Possible said, "Don't mock family."
Tin snickered. "Maybe he isn't even of this world. Maybe he comes from some far off planet of dweebs!"
Mr. Dr. Possible's expression went from stern, in a fatherly sort of way, to downright icy. Jim and Tim gulped and looked to their mother for moral support, only to find her scowling at them as well.
"Sorry," them mumbled in unison.
Kim and Ron were sitting in silence. A glance at Ron showed Kim that he looked as uncomfortable as she felt. Her father rarely showed signs of temper.
Mr. Dr. Possible took a deep breath and let it out. "Moving on," he began, "We'll be leaving..."
"Beep-beep-bee-deep!"
With a silent prayer of thanks Kim snagged her Kimmunicator.
"What's the sitch, Wade?"
"Sorry to call during dinner," Wade apologized, "But we got a hit on the site. Seems there's been a break-in at Elmer Medical Equipment in Upperton."
Kim looked at her parents, who nodded, and at Ron, who looked mournfully at the as-yet uneaten peach pie Mrs. Dr. Possible had baked for desert.
"I'll save you a slice, Ron," Mrs. Dr. Possible promised.
"Boo-yah! Let's ride, K.P.!" Ron exclaimed.
Ron's scooter zipped along the highway that led into the heart of the Upperton commercial district. He was driving, with Kim sitting behind him, her hands on his hips.
"I so can't wait until we can get a car," Ron opined as he braked to a halt at a red light.
Kim nodded in agreement. At present Ron's scooter was adequate, at least for in-town missions. It was an older model, and kind of beat-up looking, but it ran okay, and had a top speed of almost forty miles per hour. But the two of them were agreed that when they turned sixteen (and one or more of them got their drivers license) Kim would tap into the trust fund her parents had set up to hold and manage the reward money (such as there was) that came their way from missions, and buy a better means of transportation. Right now she and Ron were leaning toward a custom van. A van would give them enough room for all their equipment, yet remain fairly inconspicuous. There would still be the matter of getting it modified to suit their needs, but Kim was sure she could cash in a few favors to achieve the desired results. It was amazing, really, what saving a guy's collection of custom hot rods from a gang of thieves could get you.
All that lay in the future, though.
"Have to wait until fall, Ron," Kim said wistfully, "and sophomore year."
Ron didn't answer. The light turned green, and he took out his frustration on the scooter's throttle.
The EME building looked deserted. Well, no, not really. The parking lot was illuminated but was all but empty. Lights mounted on the outside walls of the building kept most of the night's darkness at bay. Here and there a light burned inside, revealing a deserted corridor or unoccupied office. There was no sign of human activity, though, and Team Possible soon discovered why. There was a guard post at the main gate into the fenced in compound, but the man Kim and Ron found inside was out cold and they hadn't been able to awaken him.
Gaining access to the building, Kim clipped her Kimmunicator to her belt and donned a wireless headset with a voice activated microphone. Ron followed suit. Now they could talk to each other, and Wade, while leaving their hands free for other work. A quick inventory of their other equipment (knockout gas disguised as lip gloss, a lipstick that dispensed a constrictive polymer, another that housed a small but powerful laser, acidic nail polish, and similar items) and they were on their way, Kim in front, Ron bringing up the rear.
"Turn right at the next hallway," Wade instructed quietly. He was monitoring their progress via their Kimmunicators, guiding them toward their destination. Kim and Ron slowed. The hall they were following was lit only by the faint glow of the occasional emergency exit sign, and was swathed in shadow. They didn't want to miss their turn.
Kim stopped and held up a hand, signaling Ron to do the same. She peered ahead, eyes narrowing. Kim had recently discovered that, if she concentrated, she could see fairly well in all but absolute blackness. She was also pretty sure she could see into the near-infrared portion of the spectrum. What else could explain the ghostly, but rapidly intensifying glow that seemed to emerge from the wall a ways down the hall? She could also make out the sound of footfalls, hear the whisper of quiet breathing, and the thumping of two hearts. Turning to Ron, who was watching her closely, Kim gestured down the hall, balled her hand into a fist, then held up two fingers.
Ron nodded. Two people coming. Kim signaled for him to follow and they set off again, moving silently.
Two hulking figures emerged from the side hall and turned toward them.
"Hey!" one of them exclaimed at the sight of the two teens.
"Hello, boys," Kim said sweetly. "Why don't you do yourselves a favor and surrender?"
The henchmen (for that was what they were: who else would wear a full body spandex jumpsuit with built in hood and boots?) answered by brandishing short staves tipped at each end with silvery balls. The balls began to crackle with energy, and the henchmen attacked.
One took a swing at Ron but hit empty air. Ron had ducked into a crouch, and proceeded to sweep the henchman's legs out from under him. The man went down with a heavy thud. Snatching up the man's weapon, Ron cold-cocked him with it. The henchman stayed down.
For her part, Kim sidestepped the attack aimed at her and caught hold of the shaft of her enemy's stave. Kim tugged gently. The man had a good grip. She felt him tug back, trying, perhaps, to drag her off her feet. She tugged again, hard. With a yelp the man flew forward, his jaw meeting Kim's fist. The henchman collapsed in a heap.
After trussing up the henchmen Kim and Ron moved on. Soon Kim became aware of voices, a half dozen or so. Most were male, but she heard a woman as well, who seemed to be in charge, if the orders she was barking were any sign.
The hallway ended in a set of double doors that opened into a large, darkened chamber. The doors were open and unguarded, probably because the henchmen who were supposed to be handling that detail were tied up at the moment. Kim and Ron slipped inside. At a nod from Kim, Ron flipped on the lights.
"Taking other people's stuff without asking is called 'stealing'," Kim announced in a loud voice. "Shame on you!"
All activity ceased as the room's occupants turned toward the source of the voice.
There was a brief silence as the occupants appraised the new arrivals.
"It's just a couple of kids!" a henchman exclaimed.
Kim's and Ron's eyes, though, were on the figure in the center of the group, a voluptuous woman with long, dark hair in a very tight fitting green and black jumpsuit which she wore, Kim noted critically, unzipped halfway to her navel.
"Well, well," the woman said with a sarcastic smile. "If it isn't the famous Kim Possible and her..." she paused, smile widening. "...drooling sidekick," she finished with a snort.
Kim glanced at Ron. His eyes were fixed on the mystery woman's torso, specifically that part of it not covered by her outfit. Kim jabbed him in the ribs.
"Ron! Focus!" she hissed.
Ron shook himself, blushing, while the woman in green chuckled.
"Like what you see, handsome?" she purred, running a hand suggestively down her side.
Ron made a gurgling noise, and Kim jabbed him again. "Ron, do NOT unspool the drool."
Ron swallowed, then steeled himself. The mystery tramp pouted, in disappointment it seemed, then turned to the henchmen and snapped, "Finish loading the loot. I'll handle these two!"
"You heard Shego," a henchman bellowed. He and his fellows went about their work while Shego advanced.
"Aren't you going to zip up, lady?" Kim asked, her voice dripping sarcasm. "Something might get loose otherwise."
"Meh," Shego shrugged. "If so, it'll help keep your sidekick distracted. Not that I need the help, of course," she added, moving her arms out to her sides and curling her fingers into fists. There was a whooshing sound, and Shego's fists exploded into flames.
"I can heat things up just fine on my own!" Shego snarled, and launched a ball of green fire at Kim's head.
"Ron!" Kim snapped, dodging the fireball, "You stop the goons, I'll handle little Miss Firebug here!"
"I'm on it, K.P!" Ron cried, dodging past the two women.
Kim backed slowly away from Shego, parrying or dodging the green clad woman's attacks, trying to stay out of the way of her blazing hands and get her measure at the same time. However Shego was, she was a skilled martial artist, at least in Kim's admittedly unskilled estimation. She was fast, too, and strong. Her flame power, or whatever it was, was more than just ordinary fire as well. The balls Shego launched cratered the cement walls of the room and blew electronic components to bits.
Ron wasn't sure what he was going to do about stopping Shego's henchmen. What appeared to be the last of the items they had stolen was already rising toward a gaping hole in the roof and the odd looking aircraft parked atop the building. Some of the henchmen were already rigging ascent lines in preparation for their own departure.
"Oh, man, what am I..." Ron was cut off by a large hand grabbing his shoulder and dragging him around. An evilly grinning henchman loomed over him.
"Gotcha, you little yearrgh!" The man's triumphant remark turned into a howl of pain as the sharp teeth of a naked mole rat dug into his hand.
"Nice one, Rufus!" Ron cheered.
"Ta da!" Rufus chirped.
The henchman, clutching his hand, started toward Ron again. "I'm gonna tear-"
"Jump kick!" Ron declared, bouncing straight up and tagging the henchman's jaw with the steel reinforced toe of his right boot. The henchman went glassy eyed and slumped to the floor.
The sound of engines starting drew Ron's eyes upward. The aircraft had two visible engines, both tilted down, like it was a hovercraft or something. Ron threw a grin at the naked mole rat on his shoulder and said, "Rufus, I have an idea!"
Reaching into a pouch on his belt Ron snagged the canister of constrictive plastic. A quick twist activated it, then Ron threw it toward one of the engines. The golden cylinder flashed as it flew, spinning end over end, until it passed over the engine, and was sucked down into it. There was a horrible banging noise, then the engine stopped, filled to overflowing with pink goo.
Shego, meanwhile, was getting tired. So far Kim Possible had evaded all of her attacks. Just how the redheaded cheerleader had managed that, Shego couldn't guess. There was no time to wonder about it anyway. In desperation Shego threw a fireball, not at Kim, but at a pillar behind her. Kim, thinking Shego had simply missed, didn't realize that the pillar supported an overhead storage area until it came crashing down, burying her under an avalanche of crates and boxes.
Shego shot a line toward the ceiling and was gone a moment later.
"Let's get out of here!" she shouted, clambering into the hovercraft.
"No dice!" the pilot replied. "We lost an engine! We're too heavy to take off!"
Even as Shego snarled in frustration another henchman announced, "Police choppers coming in, and S.W.A.T. teams are on their way!"
"Forget the loot, then," Shego ordered, "Just get us out of here!"
The pilot nodded and pushed a button. Clamps released, freeing the passenger section of the hovercraft from the cargo portion. Engines screaming, the now much smaller and lighter vehicle made its escape.
Ron stared after the now vanished hovercraft for a few moments, then whirled, his eyes falling on the rubble of the collapsed storage area.
"K.P!" he called, "Are you ok?"
His answer came in the form of a drawn out grunt. One of the crates, a big one, heaved up and fell over as Kim pushed herself to her feet.
"Nothing hurt but my pride," Kim assured him. "What about our new friends?"
Ron looked sheepish. "They had to abandon their ill-gotten gains, but they got away," he confessed.
"For now," Kim agreed. "But for some reason I doubt we've seen the last of this 'Shego' person."
"You lost to a cheerleader?" Lipsky asked, his tone a mixture of anger and incredulity.
Shego fixed him with an icy glare. "Don't start on me, Drew," she warned.
"We," Lipsky began. "You and I," he corrected. "Sheila, we need that equipment."
"I know!" Shego shouted. Crossing her arms, Shego scowled. Her anger at having to scrub the mission had been tempered, somewhat, by the thought that she'd taken Kim Possible out of the picture, temporarily at least, maybe permanently. That belief had been dashed almost as soon as she got back to the lair, where an irritated Dr. Lipsky had shown her a recording of the red headed pain-in-the-backside talking to reporters, apparently none the worse for wear. How she had managed that, Shego didn't know. Probably she just got lucky. "I underestimated her," Shego said finally. When Lipsky said nothing in reply, Shego elaborated. "Oh, I knew there was a chance Team Possible would show up, but I didn't think they'd be as good as they were. The sidekick isn't the buffoon his reputation makes him out to be, and Possible is fast. The fastest person I've ever gone against in a fight."
"So what you're saying is..?" Lipsky probed.
Shego grinned a hard, cruel grin. "Next time we meet - and there will be a next time - I'll be ready for both of them."