I do not own Kim Possible.

One Thing After Another

The guards led them to the shower blocks, pausing just before the halls diverged to the women's showers and the men's showers. "You lot are lucky," one of the guards growled. "Since we don't trust any of you mad geniuses with cleaning chemicals, you get off cleaning duty. You're going to shower and report directly to the weight cage."

Shego set her hands on her hips. "Wouldn't it make more sense to shower after the weight cage? Better yet, why don't we just skip it altogether? It's really pathetic trying to watch Drakken bench-press."

As his colleagues snickered Drakken glowered at Shego. "Zip. The. Lip."

The guard grinned. "Nope. Looks like your cell block will smell pretty foul tonight."

Kim and Ron stood still as the villains diverted, females walking down one corridor and males down the other. "We are not actually doing this, are we?" Ron asked desperately.

Kim approached a guard and tugged on his sleeve to get his attention. "Um, isn't there anywhere else we could, you know, clean up?"

The guard shook his head apologetically. "Sorry Miss. This is the only shower block in the whole place. The inmates take turns."

"All right. Thanks."

"Oh no," whimpered Ron, burying his face in his hands.

"Well, I did tell you we'd have to share showers. It's just happening a lot sooner than I thought."

"Guess that's what you get for starting a food fight."

Kim snapped her gaze to look at the guards, but they didn't appear to have heard Shego. "Shush!"

"Aw, what's wrong? Worried about getting arrested?" sneered Shego, leaning against the concrete wall. When Kim didn't reply and stood as still as a statue, Shego rolled her eyes. "Look Princess, if you wait for the place to be empty, you're gonna have nothing but cold water. I doubt you want to spend the night sweaty and covered in food."

Kim looked over at Ron, who slowly lowered his hands. "Go. I'll be fine," he said with a weak smile.

She took a deep breath and started down the corridor, her chin lifted and her gaze set with determination. Shego shook her head in amusement and followed after the redhead. Ron peeked down the corridor to the male showers, hands twisting with anxiety.

"I don't mind cold water," he muttered under his breath. "I can shower with cold water."

"Hey, vhere's the sidekick?"

Ron squeaked as footsteps sounded towards him. He found a bin of towels stashed against the wall and he dove inside, burying himself under the fabric. Dementor shuffled into the hall and glanced around with a frown. Though Ron was nowhere in sight, Dementor knew that the boy hadn't left that quickly. He wasn't that agile.

He approached the bin of towels and whipped off the top layer. Ron yelped and Dementor snapped, "There you are! I really don't vant to sleep vith you beside me, not showered."

"I'm gonna shower," protested Ron. "Just when everyone else is gone."

"Are you a man or a mouse?"

"I'm a man!"

When Dementor raised a brow, Ron groaned and reluctantly straggled out of the bin. He closed his eyes and held out his hand. "Vhat is this?" asked Dementor flatly.

"I'm self-conscious, man, okay? Help me out here."

Dementor shook his head and took his wrist, hauling him down the corridor. Ron kept his hand pressed firmly over his eyes until he was shoved into a stall. Ron cautiously peeked through his fingers and was relieved to see concrete and plastic curtains.

"Thanks!" he called gratefully.

"Yeah, yeah!"

Ron wrangled out of his jumpsuit and his regular clothes that were underneath. He hung them on the hook and turned on the water. As a warm spray blasted him Ron relaxed, massaging his fingers through his blonde strands.

He missed the hand slipping past the curtain to grab his clothes from his hook. When he finished his shower and turned to find his clothes missing, he stood stock still for a minute before crying, "Aw man! It's just like high school!"

…

"All right Kimmie. The coast is clear."

"No way. I don't believe you." Kim had shut her eyes as she moved further into the shower block and she wasn't going to open them until she was certain she wasn't going to see anything she didn't want to see. She could hear running water, humming and giggling, which she suspected was directed at her obvious discomfort.

"You're a cheerleader. You're telling me you never shower after practice?" Shego asked incredulously.

"Yes, we shower. But our school has tinted stalls and everything. Just push me in an empty one and I'll be fine. And I mean it when I say empty, Shego."

"All right, all right. Geez. Who do you think I am?"

"Do you want me to answer that?"

"I wouldn't get snippy with me right now if I were you," said Shego warningly.

"Fine, sorry."

Kim felt herself being shoved into a confined space and there was a swish as a curtain closed behind her. Kim opened her eyes and gave a sigh of relief. She took off her clothes and twisted the nozzle, giving a startled yip as cold water pelted her skin.

"Might as well have waited until no one was in here," she said, shivering madly as she hurried to clean the food from her hair. "Wouldn't have made a stinking difference!"

Five minutes later she was food-free and she turned off the water. Her jumpsuit had a few stains on it but nothing she couldn't tolerate. She used the elastic around her wrist to tie up her sopping wet hair and got dressed. She nudged the curtain aside and asked, "Shego? Is the coast clear?"

"You won't know until you come out," Shego replied.

Kim stepped out into the towel room to find only Shego and Camille Leon. Kim stood off to the side, her hands slung in her pockets as she awkwardly shifted on her feet.

Camille finished drying her hair and she sent Kim a scowl. "Um, what are you doing?"

"Waiting."

"For?"

"Shego. Or you, I guess."

Camille glanced at the green woman next to her before turning back to the teen hero. "Why, exactly?"

"I don't know where the weight cage is," muttered Kim sheepishly.

In spite of herself, Camille felt a smirk pull its way across her face. "Riiiight." She whipped a towel at the girl, who fumbled to catch it. "Dry yourself off first before you drip all over the place. It's embarrassing."

…

The weight cage was equipped with treadmills, bench-presses, squat bars, dumbbells and everything in between. Kim approached a pull-up bar and starting doing a few reps. She was interrupted when Dementor walked up to her and held out a jumpsuit and a set of clothes.

Kim dropped to the ground and gaped. "You didn't!"

"I couldn't help it. It vas too tempting."

Kim took the jumpsuit with one hand and pressed the other against her cheek. "I'm trying to decide whether to yell or laugh."

"Laughing is good."

"Yes, ha ha, it's very funny."

Kim managed to hold back a giggle as Ron slouched towards them, his shoes in hand. She passed over his clothes and Dementor burst into boisterous laughter. "At least he didn't run them up the flagpole."

"That's because he doesn't have access to the flagpole," said Ron with a scowl. "Otherwise he totally would have!"

"I vould!" agreed Dementor, walking off with a snicker. "Enjoy your vorkout!"

"I won't!" Ron called after him.

"Come on." Kim clapped his shoulder. "Put your clothes on and we'll do some time on the treadmill."

Ron returned to the showers briefly to change in peace before returning to the weight cage. Kim was waiting for him by the treadmills and he joined her. Before they got on the machines Monkey Fist stepped through the door, his dark eyes zeroing in on them.

"Kim, he's back!" yelped Ron.

"It's going to be okay," she soothed. "I'm here. Just breathe."

Ron closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and took a slow, deep breath. Monkey Fist chose that moment to slide behind him, aware of the sharp, warning gaze Kim trained on him. "Hello, Ronald."

His attempt at a relaxing inhale morphed into a scream. Ron's eyes flew open and he scrambled away from Monkey Fist, knocking into the rack of weights. A ten-pound fell off the stack and struck his foot. Ron's scream increased in volume as he started hopping around the mat-covered floor, clutching his throbbing toes.

"Not again!"

Kim dropped her head into her hands and groaned. Monkey Fist raised an eyebrow. "What'd I do?"

"Oh, you know what you did!"

"I was just coming to tell him that he needs not to fear my retaliation. It's merely going to add further punishment while I'm within these walls, so I'll wait to achieve my revenge when I escape."

"I'm sure that would have made him feel so much better," deadpanned Kim. "I think that's the same foot he just got stitches in."

"Stitches?"

"He accidentally put an axe through his foot. Nothing major, thank goodness."

Monkey Fist frowned in disappointment. "Blast. I would have loved to see that."

"You are just so full of sympathy. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to bring him to the infirmary. Again."

…

"At least it's not the same foot," the nurse remarked as she inspected the bruised skin. She gave a few, careful squeezes and Ron flinched. "It's definitely not broken."

"Are you sure?"

"I think she would know if your foot was broken or not, Ron," said Kim with a shake of her head. "You would know if your foot was broken or not."

"It'll be tender for a bit." The nurse straightened and made a note on her clipboard. "It's swelled, so I'll give you some ice. If it gets worse over the course of your stay here, come back to see me."

"Will do," said Ron. He took the ice pack she handed him and followed Kim out of the infirmary, hobbling slightly as he went. "You know, I didn't think I'd risk losing both of my feet when I agreed to do this with you."

Kim set her hand against his shoulder. "Me either. But try to be a bit more careful, okay?"

"I am trying!"

They returned to their cell and Ron sat on his cot, gingerly pressing the frost-covered gel pack against his tender flesh. The villains were eventually escorted back to their cells and Kim wrinkled her nose as sweat and body odour permeated the air.

"This is what I call cruel and unusual punishment," Kim muttered.

"It's your fault!" snapped Drakken from his cell, nearly squishing his face in the side window. "Your fault!"

Kim held up her hands in a defensive manner. "All right, all right! My bad. But this is so not the worst thing that's happened to you. It's definitely not the worst thing that's happened to me. We'll deal."

Drakken gave an annoyed grumble before retreating. Monkey Fist regarded Ron from across the corridor, a smirk on his features. "How's the foot?"

Ron glared at him. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Absolutely."

Kim pressed her finger against her temples and sighed. "I can do this. A bet is a bet. I can make it through a week."

"You might, but I don't think Stoppable is," said Shego with a snicker.

"Shu, Shego."

Kim could feel exhaustion in her bones and she collapsed against her cot. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, it was to Ron shaking her.

"Kim, it's time for dinner."

"Dinner?" Kim rubbed at her eyes, disorientated. "Didn't I just close my eyes?"

"Nah, you were out for a few hours, KP."

Kim yawned and stood up, stretching her arms over her head. "How are you feeling?"

"Way better. I can put pressure on it and everything!"

"I'm glad," said Kim sincerely.

They were the last to enter the dining hall and this time it was Ron and Kim who joined Shego and Drakken. The blue-skinned man aimed a plastic fork at her and growled, "No food fights."

"Are you ever going to let that go?" asked Kim in exasperation.

"Not likely."

"Hope you got your rest, Kimmie," said Shego. "You're gonna need the energy for dish duty."

"Dish duty? Are you serious?" Ron groaned in dismay. "We have to do chores?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but this isn't exactly a hotel," said Shego with a sneer. "The days are filled with mind-numbing boredom or backbreaking labour."

"I wouldn't call dish duty backbreaking labour," said Kim, unbothered. "I can do some dishes."

"But why do we have dish duty?" pressed Ron.

"Because you happen to be occupying the cell that was next in line on the roster," said Drakken. "Lucky for Killigan and Dementor. If you hadn't shown up it would have been them."

Ron scowled. "Yeah. Real lucky."

Shego lifted her spoon and let the spaghetti sauce plop to the white porcelain. "Be sure to scrub hard," she advised with a grin. "This stuff does not come off easy."

"Want to trade nights?" quipped Kim.

"Pfft, in your dreams, Princess."

When the two teens finished eating, they went over to a guard to receive their instructions. The guard directed them into the kitchen, where they snapped on hairnets and slipped on rubber gloves. Ron glowered at the cart of dishes the kitchen lady wheeled in. "At least they have dishwashers."

The kitchen lady handed them a bottle of dish soap and a couple of sponges. "Make sure you get off all the food before you put them in the dishwasher," she instructed. "Use half a cup of dish soap and use the slow cycle."

"Got it," said Kim, flashing an awkward thumbs-up with her glove-covered hand.

Kim and Ron stationed themselves at the double-sinks and started chipping away at the food-encrusted dishes. When a load was done, Ron stuck them in the dishwasher. But they were rinsing the dishes much faster than the dishwashers were cleaning them, and soon they had precarious piles all over the counters.

The first dishwasher chimed, signalling it was finished. Ron rushed over and set the dishes in the drying rack before grabbing another load. After a moment of hesitation, he dumped in twice the amount of soap and changed the cycle to fast.

That should make things go way faster.

Two minutes later, the dishwasher started shaking madly. Kim whirled around and cried, "What's going on?"

"Oooh, darn it," said Ron with wide eyes.

The door flew open, water and soap spewing everywhere. Kim found herself knee-deep in the sudsy mess and she glared at Ron. "What did you do?" she demanded.

"Everything the lady told us not to do."

"Ron!"

"Sorry!"

Kim wrestled her way to the dishwasher, swiping bubbles out of her face as she went. She made sure her hands were dry and the plug away from the water before she ripped it out of its socket. The dishwasher ceased its movement and Kim dropped the plug.

"Get the mop," she said in resignation.

"What the heck are you losers doing in here?"

Kim and Ron whirled around to see Shego gaping at them from the kitchen door. She took a sweeping glance around the soaking wet room before bursting into laughter.

"Man. You guys just can't catch a break!"

Ron sent Kim a despairing look. "How much longer do we have left?"

"Six days," said Kim with a heavy sigh.

"Six days?!"

"Ron, it's only been, like, a day and half."

"It's only been one day?!"

"Ron!"