Yet Another Kigo Fic! – Chapter 18
By Ken-Zero
Disclaimer: Kim and company are owned by Disney. Kane and Isabel, whether they appear or not, are StarvingLunatic's characters.
--
It only took half of Kim Possible's mind to pay attention during class, a fact which she attributed to having a brain surgeon and a rocket scientist for parents. The other half of her mind spent the hours mentally doodling and wishing for the time to be over. In fact, were it not for her desire to still perform well in school, she probably would have dozed her classes away.
Well, she reminded herself with a wry mental grin, there's also the fact that every time I close my eyes I hear Mr. Barkin…
In due time, though, her last class finished, and she headed home. She was only moderately amazed to not find Shego there; the pale woman had been gone fairly often in the last week and a half, but had given in to Kim's requests for information after only the second time the redhead had pulled out her puppy-dog pout.
According to the ex-thief, Shego was tying up some loose ends for Doctor D. Kim had at first been slightly mystified. After all, wasn't Drakken supposed to be in custody still, since Shego was usually the one who broke him out anyway? Then she had remembered one of their brief conversations with Betty Director, Juris Doctor, and how Shego had referred to the one-eyed intelligence chief the same way. Kim was still unclear as to what exactly was going on, but she figured as long as it didn't involve Shego going to jail and thus not being able to come back to her, she was okay with not knowing.
She had been able to tell Shego was profoundly grateful at not having to spill, which only piqued Kim's curiosity…but she was reasonably confident that she would find out in time. Until then, Kim put up with her lover being her usual mysterious self and took care of her own life.
It had been a couple of weeks since busting up the Interro-gator's underground…whatever it had been, and those weeks were very, very quiet. Almost mundane, in fact. Kim was thankful for the break—already the semester was nearly a quarter over—as it allowed her to focus on some of her more…simplistic classes. The professors had decided to outline their entire schedule in the course syllabus, so Kim had all the chapters to read and homework to do in advance. She spent some of her non-Shego, non-class time trying to get ahead, just in case something came up that actually caused her to miss days.
Kim sighed as she deposited her bookbag on the floor next to a wall in her dorm. She shivered slightly as she crossed the place; the weather was beginning to turn chill, and with Shego leaving via her preferred window route most of the time, the cool air easily invaded the dorm room. Sliding that window shut, she flopped down into the main room's single easy chair. The chair was one of her favorite spots…and judging from the smells the chair had picked up, it was Shego's, too. The scent of her favorite person combined with the sheer comfort factor of the squishy chair lulled Kim into a light doze.
She awoke some hours later to the smell of something cooking, and her stomach brought her into full wakefulness by rumbling gently. She grinned a bit before levering herself off the chair and sneaking over to the small kitchenette's doorway.
She didn't enter for two reasons. The first was that there simply wasn't the room; Shego was flying back and forth between the stove and the table, and when Kim caught glimpses of her face, it was set in total concentration.
The second reason was that Shego was all dressed up under the pink apron she wore. The pantsuit, for that was what she was clad in, was black, though Kim could see the occasional white vertical pinstripes that decorated it, and Kim was sure that the blouse under the suit's jacket was either emerald green, just as her eyes, or white. The apron made it hard to tell, though, and a sudden, jaw-cracking yawn made it hard for her to focus on anything.
"Whatcha doin'?" she slurred sleepily when the yawn was done.
"Trying something new," Shego answered shortly, as if Kim had been in the kitchenette the entire time.
Kim didn't bother her any further, instead opting to lean on the waist-high half-wall that separated the kitchenette from the rest of her dorm. Shego worked with amazing efficiency, especially in such a small space; she appeared to waste no movement. It was like she had rehearsed this several times before, so she knew where everything was already, had all the actions timed down to the very second, and spared no hesitation to figure out what to do next.
In short order dishes appeared on the table, and only about ten minutes after Kim woke up, Shego dusted off her hands, pulled off the apron, and swept a mock bow to her Kimmie. "After you, Princess," she said, and while there was humor in her voice, there was no trace of the usual mocking in the nickname.
Kim smiled as she seated herself, allowing Shego to slide her chair in for her. She remembered enough of her table manners—hammered in during the year or so when her parents had been marginally less busy at their jobs due to the Tweebs being born—to know not to touch anything before everyone was ready, so she kept her hands folded in her lap until Shego sat.
Shego, for her part, held in her compliment at Kim's behavior. Of course she'd know what to do, she thought wryly. Miss Priss probably wouldn't be out of place at a big royal dinner. She called forth her powers, focusing first on one hand, making sure the other hand went out, before concentrating enough to narrow the usual brilliant green flame down to one finger. She touched the wick on the candle she had grabbed from elsewhere in Kim's dorm and brought it over to the table, finding the one place amidst the dinner that she'd saved specifically for its presence.
Kim was fully impressed. Not only had Shego gone all-out on dinner preparations, but it was candlelit, she was dressed all fancy—making Kim feel somewhat underdressed, in fact—and, unless Kim missed her guess, the pale woman had an expression that would have made a canary-fed cat jealous. She finally sat down, and Kim took the napkin folded prettily on her plate and placed it on her lap. Raising an eyebrow at Shego, Kim received a nod in return, so she reached for what looked like the main course—some kind of sliced steak—and helped herself.
A few minutes later—during which it became evident that Shego's appetite could far outpace Kim's, given the relative amounts on each plate—the two were enjoying a quiet, if fancy, dinner. Kim was too far gone into culinary heaven to make any conversation, while Shego was enjoying the silence almost as much as what she'd prepared. It had turned out very well, in spite of her telling Kim she was trying something new.
Finally Kim sat back from her plate. She wasn't done by any stretch, but they were in no hurry, and she wanted to hear her loved one's voice. "So," she began, spearing a piece of her meat with a fork and using it to gather up the last of the juices on her plate, "what brought this on?"
Shego swallowed. "Can't a girl just have a quiet dinner with her girlfriend once in a while?"
Kim's heart swelled; it wasn't often she got to hear Shego refer to them as a couple, even now. "I suppose," she said after a moment, "that that could be true for a normal couple…but then that wouldn't be us, now, would it?"
"Touché." Shego saluted Kim with her fork. "Well, since you had to ask…yours truly is now official."
"Official?" Kim repeated, cocking her head to one side.
"Official," Shego affirmed, nodding. "As of about two this afternoon, Doctor D gave up and told me I was out from under her thumb. She still wants me under your 'supervision'…but she doesn't have anything to hold over my head anymore."
Kim was positively beaming by this point. She put down her fork, reached across her table, and grasped Shego's wrist, giving it a squeeze. "I'm happy for you," she said simply.
Shego returned the smile. "Thanks," she said quietly. "I am, too." Then, some of her good humor returning, she continued, "The best part was—the best part—was when I got to watch her get on the phone and call all the big-shots. CIA, FBI, Interpol, even the Blue-Hats over at the UN! And boy, were they pissed." She laughed easily, the sound like music to Kim's ears. "I know I was in the video feed, too, 'cause I did the cheesy smile-and-wave thing"—she paused to do just that for Kim—"and they all turned practically purple. I couldn't help it; as soon as the old battleaxe hung up I about fell over laughing."
"She could do that?" Kim knew Global Justice had, as its name implied, far-reaching effects, but this…?
"Apparently." Shego shrugged. "I'm not sure how or why, but if they have enough pull to get people off my back, I'll take it at that."
"Sounds like a good idea," Kim mused, thinking back on the couple of times she'd visited Dr. Director's Middleton-area offices. The place was impressively high-tech, even for all Kim's exposure to the mad science her enemies—and, once in a while, her own father—cooked up, and she had little doubt that GJ's effectiveness was unparalleled in the law enforcement community.
Aside from Kim herself, of course. She grinned a bit on the inside.
What she didn't expect was for Dr. Director to keep her promise—or at least, to fill it out so soon. The woman wasn't necessarily an ice queen, but from the usage her organization had gotten out of Kim and Ron in the past, Kim knew that Betty Director's scruples were a bit…narrower than her own. She was sure the leader of GJ would have tried to get as much distance out of her leverage over Shego that she could.
Then again…as long as Shego stayed with Kim, and as long as Dr. Director turned a blind eye to Kim's "vigilante" efforts, as Shego called them, she was, in effect, getting as much distance out of her leverage over Shego that she could.
"Well played," Kim murmured, staring down at her plate even as she thought it through.
Shego, though, was looking at Kim like she was nuts. "What's the matter, Kimmie?" she asked. "Your dinner conspiring against you?"
The redhead blinked, looking back up. "What? No!" She tilted her head to one side again, her expression the very model of confusion. "Why would you think that?"
Shego assumed a serious look, turned her eyes down to her plate, and stabbed at the last bit of meat there…and missed on purpose. She narrowed her eyes. "Well played," she complimented the steak.
Kim couldn't help but giggle. "Okay, okay, I get it," she said. "I was just thinking. And, before you say it, not about my steak. Which, by the way, is really really good."
"Thanks. And?"
Obviously, Kim thought, Shego's not gonna give this up. "Doctor Director only made you 'official' because she knew you'd be helping me out if you stayed with me."
"Doy," Shego replied, leaning back in her chair. "It probably helped that I told her that I was going to amend my statement."
"Amend it? How?"
"I told her yesterday that while she'd never get me as a solo, as long as I was gonna be with you, there would really be no way to avoid me getting back into the game."
Eagerness and shame warred for prominence on Kim's face. "I…look, I'm sorry I dragged you back in," she finally said, "and if you'd rather not, well, I managed against you for four years. How hard can it be now?"
"Don't sweat it, Princess," Shego waved Kim's discomfort away. "See, one of the things that mean I can actually stand this—aside from, you know, not having my brothers around—is that you're competent. And, at least so far, you're not…" She thought for a moment. "Gotta find the right words. You're not expecting me to be silly and conforming."
"What do you mean?"
"Okay, so, Hego? Yeah. Had to be his way. Everything had to be his way." She chuckled. "I couldn't even wake up at one in the morning to grab a midnight snack. And if I used the wrong hand to pass the ketchup at lunch, it was apologize or you'll lose that hand."
"You've got to be joking." Or exaggerating. Kim wasn't sure which.
"Okay, I am. But only about that last sentence." Shego shrugged. "Seriously, he may be my brother, but I wonder where he got that from sometimes. It's not like either of my parents are that way, you know."
"Yeah…so. Back to Doctor Director. How'd she react to your declaration?"
"About how you'd think. She looked at me for a second, nodded, then told me to get the hell out of her office."
"She said that? Well…I guess I can see it." It was Kim's turn to shrug. "So that's it, then, huh? She's going to treat you like any other employee, you know, including you not having any 'special access' to her over and above anyone else there."
"Like she can stop me from getting 'special access,'" the verdant-skinned woman retorted. "Still and all, at least that monkey's off my back. I can't tell you how relieved I was that she apparently agreed that I wasn't going on any of your 'missions' alone."
--
"Me and my big, fat, fucking mouth," Shego whined, and Ron Stoppable, seated across from her, grinned.
The two unlikely allies were sitting in the troop section of an old-but-sturdy Douglas C-47 air transport plane, being whisked away to some country Shego couldn't care less about to save some ruler she also couldn't care less about from a group of villainous thugs she had even less reason to care about. After all, those thugs were giving her old profession a bad name by murdering; extorting protection money; and other, seedier aspects of her thieving days of yore. For that reason alone she wouldn't have minded coming along with Kimmie to kick some ass.
And then Kimmie had to go and break her leg.
It was an accident, of course; some kid was skateboarding around the campus of Go University, earning a few sniggers from other underclassmen as to what decade the skater thought he was living in—roller blades had become the transportation choice du jour since Kim had been a high school freshman—and in general being ignored by everyone else.
Including Kim.
Then a bad rail grind sent him into her, and the leading edge of his skateboard, to which was added his considerable mass, impacted Kim square on the shin. People dozens of feet away had heard the crack as the bones broke, and only shock induced by the sheer unlikeliness of the sitch had kept Kim's head on straight even as she took another step and watched in morbid interest as the lower half of her shin bent out sideways instead of staying straight.
The former cheerleader was currently resting in their dorm room, bones re-set, leg wrapped in a cast, crutches nearby. And she was forbidden from missions for six weeks. That order had come from the doctor who'd set the leg, her own mother, and Doctor Director, as well.
Which was why, when Kim's device chirped its usual happy-minor-third trill that heralded the start of some excitement, Shego had snatched the device away, intending to chew out Wade for teasing Kim with adventure even as she healed, and instead had frozen, insult still on her tongue, when Betty Director's face appeared.
The conversation had been short, terse…and more of an order than a request. Shego had hardly had time to refuse before the screen went dark, and she had spent the next few minutes trying unsuccessfully to raise the good doctor again.
Shego had reared her arm back, ready to smash the device against the far wall and melt it for good measure, when a sudden pressure on her raised wrist kept her from moving forward. She felt the Kimmunicator slip from her hand, then another, similar shape entered it; the pressure released, and Shego threw whatever-it-was at the far wall, where it smashed satisfyingly into its constituent parts.
"Didn't need that one anyway," Kim had commented. "It was already broken."
Back in the present, Shego shook her head in exasperation once again. Reliving the circumstances behind her presence hardly did a thing to improve her mood, though Kim's reaction still brought an unwilling smile to her face. Still, she would have preferred to have let Ron go this one alone. The old battleaxe had told her, though, in no uncertain terms, that she still wanted someone to watch Shego, and Ron had been the second available choice.
She cast a glance at the blond buffoon. He was, undoubtedly, aware of what had caused her outburst a few seconds ago, which did nothing to ease her temper. Still, she managed to rein herself in enough to keep from threatening to fry the grin off his face. And that's because I wanted to, not because it would make Kimmie sad.
…And probably because he hasn't been nearly as annoying as normal, she admitted grudgingly to herself. It was, in fact, true: Ron had barely said two words after the plane had taken off. His animal companion was passing the plane ride in slumber, so she was thankfully spared his slightly-creepy presence. She still didn't understand how Kim put up with him—either "him"—for as long as she did.
The pilot's voice cut into her irritation. "Over the target drop in five," his voice called over the intercom. Shego and Ron stood at the same time, each one grabbing their respective parachute and donning it quickly. Shego watched in sheer fascination as Ron actually attached a miniature version to Rufus, who had awakened at the pilot's call.
She didn't have much time to waste doing that, though, as the door in the fuselage clunked once. It slid inward and the cabin air began to rush out, whistling as it went, as pressures tried to equalize.
"Reached the jump zone," the pilot announced. "Happy landings."
The door continued to open, splitting in two and sliding along the interior of the fuselage, and the whistling increased to a full-on roar. It tugged at Shego as she walked to the opening, and without taking a look back she stepped right over the threshold…and into nothing.
The first second or two of freefall always scared the living daylights out of her, until she could get her bearings and orient herself properly. This time was no different; she squelched the incipient panic as hard as she could and was rewarded with a literal bird's-eye view of a significant portion of the European countryside.
The wind noise deafened her to pretty much everything else as she oriented herself to arrow straight down, reaching terminal velocity a few short seconds after leaving the plane. Her hair whipped out behind her, teased into a frenzied mess from the wind.
By now she could see the castle they needed to enter. Bringing her hand forward, she watched her wrist-mounted altimeter spiral crazily downward as she dropped. She spread out her arms and legs, catching the air and altering her descent path slightly.
A small bullet whizzed past her, and Ron, tumbling end-over-end, followed, though his rate of passage was a tad more sedate. She barely caught him hollering "Rufus!" before he was below her and his voice was lost to the air.
Shego cursed, thinking first that Kim would never let her live if Ron bought the farm, and second that he was going to give their presence away. Before she could alter her own shape, though, a pair of parachutes blossomed only a few hundred feet below her. She cursed again, trying to lean forward so she would pass Ron without hitting him. It's gonna be close…
And close it was; she caught the edge of his 'chute with her foot. The fabric tangled with her, yanking her leg back and sending her spinning. The ground and sky traded places with dizzying speed, and she had to fight to keep her lunch down. She threw an arm out, hoping to catch some air with it and slow her tumble. It worked, but slowly; adding her other arm slowed the spin even more, until finally she was falling straight again, this time facing away from the ground.
Shego cursed her luck yet again, drew her arms in, and spun once, voluntarily, until she was pointed down again, then checked her wrist altimeter once more.
Dammit! Lost eight thousand feet with that spill, don't have much more time… Noting that she didn't have the benefit of a forest to break her fall—and thankful that she didn't have Kim in her arms to protect—she pulled on her parachute's ripcord, listening to the pilot 'chute rustle as the wind caught it and yanked the main 'chute free with tooth-jarring force.
Having opted for a rectangular parachute, Shego had somewhat more control over her descent than Ron; she guided herself to the grassy field surrounding the castle. On her way down, she took as good a look at the place as she could, and noted a distinct lack of henchmen patrolling or guarding it.
She hit the ground and rolled, tearing herself free of her parachute pack and slicing effortlessly through the material as it fluttered down around her. Ron landed a minute later with a thud, and it was Shego's turn to grin as a muffled "Ow!" issued from the lump under his parachute. Rufus touched down with as much grace as a naked mole rat could muster, chewing his way through the harness in less time than it took Ron to get free.
Shaking her head, Shego pulled Ron from the wreckage of his 'chute. "Look," she growled, though she still made sure he was uninjured. "We're going to do this my way…which means quietly. If you can't do quiet, I'll send you in the front."
"I can do quiet," he said petulantly, but in a quieter tone than Shego herself had used.
"You'd better," she added threateningly, before setting off for the castle itself.
--
Five minutes passed, and Shego was impressed, though she was loath to show it.
While Ron might not have kept up with her speed and skill, he was definitely not as clownish as she'd been half-afraid he would be; in fact, he was managing to stay almost as completely silent as she herself, and doing a good job of staying out of obvious sight lines.
Looks like that ninja girlfriend of his is making a good impression.
They made their way through the outer ring of the castle's hallways, passing a few squads of goons clad in what looked like Dementor's usual goon getup. The sight made Shego think. So Bets said she didn't know whodunit here, just that the guy needed saving…I guess now we find out?
She and Ron came upon a door, just then, that made then both stop and look. The door was massive, easily ten feet tall, and looked to be made of thick oak, banded with iron. They could hear muffled voices from behind it, but even after motioning for complete silence and pressing her ear to it, Shego could not make out any details.
"Keep any of 'em off my back," she told Ron, who nodded and ran off back the way they'd come. Just as Shego was reaching for the door handle, muffled thud noises and a couple of short cries signaled that Ron had found the nearest patrol…and put it out of commission.
"Boy's getting good," she muttered, before giving the door a shove and striding in like she owned the place.
She stopped only a few steps in after a group of twelve henchmen—from their dress, a mix of Dementor's and…the local forces?--looked up from their argument. They saw her standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed, eyebrow raised, posture slightly slouched to one side…and did nothing.
Shego was moderately confused. Usually she could intimidate goons by walked past them even she wasn't paying any attention. But this…? They didn't look any different to her, so any improvement on their part was out of the question.
Then one of them cracked a grin. "Hey, look! It's Sheegie-Weegie!" He adopted a kissy face. "Wanna come give your pumpkin a kissy-wissy?" He held his hands up, folded, near his shoulder and stayed all puckered up; his voice was just shy of saccharine. The rest of his crew responded with low chuckles and a couple of full-on laughs.
Shego was…horrified. The only other grown man she'd ever seen act like he was nine years old was Drakken, and he had the excuse of his mad genius.
Well…mad something.
This, though, was an all-new level of just weird. "Yeah," she replied, "I was looking for Maturity Central. Guess I have to go talk to Killigan for that."
The insult was not lost to them, and the taunter dropped his act. "You're one to talk," he growled. "What's it like being a lipstick lesbian? Went all soft for your Twue Wove? Being a villain wasn't good enough for ya? Had to go for a girl half your age?"
Now she was angry. And passably excited. She hadn't had a good angry-fight in a while. "Just because I went 'Kimmie,'" she replied, flowing into her open-clawed fighting stance and igniting her hands, "doesn't mean I went 'soft.'" Even as she stopped talking, a feral grin remained.
The ringleader, apparently, wasn't frightened…or at least he didn't show it. "Get 'er, boys!"
They tried to dogpile her, which was their first mistake; a pair of plasma balls knocked eight off their feet as the two she hit flew back into three of their compatriots each. While they sorted themselves out from the tangle of limbs, she engaged the last four. A leg sweep knocked down one; rolling away from the clumsy grab of the second, she spun around, ran back to him, and dropped him with a kick to his head.
A third tried to bear-grab her from behind, but she kicked behind herself and was rewarded with her foot striking his kneecap. The sole of her boot locked the joint and he hissed in pain, loosening his grip enough that she slid down, then came back up with an open palm strike to the underside of his jaw, lifting him off the ground a few feet.
The ringleader growled and tried to grab for a weapon, but she lunged forward and grabbed the material of his jumpsuit, twisting her hand and pulling down with enough force to make him stumble. While she recovered her balance from the lunge, he began to lose his, and Shego only made it worse by delivering a plasma-enhanced slap to the back of his head. His face smacked into the castle floor and he grunted in pain.
She looked around the room once, for something to restrain the first eight she'd taken out, and spotted a hanging chandelier. Thoughts of it being too cliché lasted only a second as she lobbed another plasma blast at the chain holding it in place. The chain gave way after only a few seconds of her projectile eating through it, and the giant ring crashed down on them, pinning them all in place.
She stalked back over to the ringleader, rolled him over, and hoisted him up by the collar of his jumpsuit. "Still think I'm soft?" she asked quietly.
He shook his head, eyes wide with fear.
"Good. Now. Where's your boss?"
He raised a shaking hand and pointed towards the center of the castle. That's what I figured, but it's nice to be certain. She released his collar, and he flopped back to the ground, head smacking against the hard floor once again. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ron poke his head in and jerk it away from them—a clear signal for "Come on!" Shego rose to her feet and walked out of the room, but not before delivering her parting shot.
"If I looked like her at half my age, I'd love me, too."
--
Shego and Ron stayed absolutely stock-still in the air vent shaft as they watched Professor Dementor and another man—presumably the ruler they were supposed to be rescuing, if his clothing was any indication—talking quietly but excitedly over a large table covered in maps. The maps were of Central Europe…and to Shego's eyes it looked like they were using it to play Risk.
Little figurines of men and artillery dotted several of the countries, with a couple of mock castles thrown in to make it look better. As she watched, Dementor pulled out what looked like a shuffleboard stick and pushed a group of the little army men across one border and into another. They didn't roll any dice, but they did remove the figurines that were already present in the second country.
Despite the tight confines of the air duct, Shego turned to look at Ron. "Does that look to you like it does to me?" she whispered.
"If you mean, does it look like they're playing around with little plastic army men on a map of a part of the world that we're probably in and using it to plan a grand strategy for taking over at least this part of the world and probably using it as a staging ground to launch invasions all over the rest of the world for mutual fun and profit and then one will eventually stab the other in the back so there will only be one ruler of the world…" he took a breath "then yes. It does look that way."
As Ron ran his mouth Shego's eyes grew wider and wider, until he finally breathed again. She shook her head. "You're something else," she muttered, "and I'm almost sorry to have to do this."
"Do what?" Ron asked, but before he could finish, Shego had lit her hands, swiped the screws out of the vent grate, kicked the grate out, and shoved Ron through it.
--
Kim, watching the goings-on halfway across the world at the Global Justice office near Go City through the Kimmunicator Shego was carrying, winced and shook her head as Ron went flying through the hole in the air duct. "Gentle, love, please?" she asked the air quietly, though she was halfway smiling. After all, Ron probably would have done that all by himself anyway.
She had arrived a few minutes earlier, delivered by request to Dr. Director to watch the proceedings of the mission. Kim couldn't tell if Betty was worried Shego wouldn't perform or would abandon the mission, or if she just wanted Kim's input on how things were handled on the other end.
The view moved as Shego prepared to exit the vent as well, but stopped when something came over the audio.
--
"Ach! Get the Possible Trap ready, you bungling oaf!" Dementor's shrill yell carried easily, echoing off the castle's hard walls. Shego blinked. Possible Trap?
Ron finally hit the ground, though he was, for once, able to land on his feet.
His pants fluttered down atop his head a second and a half later, covering his blush…and allowing him to miss seeing the stupefied stare the other man beside Dementor was giving him.
The puny Prussian whacked the King—at least, Shego assumed it was a King; he did have a rather fancy crown-like headpiece—on the arm, and the King blinked twice before shaking himself and whirling around to stab a button on the table under the maps.
Klaxons on the walls flashes, sirens blared, and the floor and walls moved as the Map Room transformed itself into something apparently designed to make short work of even the great Kim Possible.
Shego grinned. This'll be more entertaining than I thought.
--
Kim grinned as she watched through the video feed. "They see Ron and still think I'm there," she commented to Doctor Director, who was also watching.
"Indeed," the one-eyed leader of the police agency concurred, her voice curiously neutral.
She's probably wondering why Shego isn't helping. Won't she be in for a surprise. Levering herself into a seat, Kim laid her crutches by the side of the chair and prepared to watch this latest attempt at trappery fail utterly.
--
Great sections of the floor split apart into squares two feet on a side. A portion of them rose quickly; equally as many sank equally as far, leaving the rest at the same floor height. Spikes descended from the ceiling and spears poked out from the walls, denying a surface to jump off of or cling to. The floor squares began to move again, rising and falling at seemingly random intervals.
Ron clung for dear life to the top of one of the squares. "KP! A little help!" he yelled, forgetting just who it was he was here with.
Shego couldn't really blame him, from her perch still in the vent. While death traps were more Drakken's style, she knew all Kimmie's major villains considered her enough of a pain to try them. This…was just more elaborate than most. Beyond that, though, it looked like Ron was in his usual element—the distraction/sidekick role.
All I needed, she thought, before grabbing the edge, digging her claws in, and swinging out. She landed on a square just as it reached its high point. From this new vantage point she couldn't see Dementor or the other guy anymore, which meant they probably had already escaped.
And they wonder why Kimmie always escapes their death traps, she thought, rolling her eyes. If they stayed to the very end, they'd know. She brought her hands together and swept a plasma beam across the wall opposite Ron, watching as the spears quickly incinerated under the attack.
Once that wall was clear, she tried the ceiling spikes, with only moderate success; they were taking too long to melt away, being all-metal, and she and Ron were losing time they could be using to chase down the Bad Guys.
Using a series of flips and leaps only Kim could duplicate, Shego made her way across the floor to the square next to Ron, at which point she became aware of one disturbing reality:
Every square she'd touched on the way here had crumbled into nothing, and she heard the faint sounds of splashing as the pieces splashed into some water all the way down. Muffled groans indicated there was something alive down there as well that didn't appreciate the falling debris. If this were Drakken's lair, it'd be big, lots of arms, teeth, and angry. This guy, though…could be anything. She reached out when Ron's square dropped past the level of hers and grabbed his shirt. "Stoppable!" she shouted.
Ron leaped to his feet. "SG!" he hollered, looking around wildly until he spotted her above his own level. "Whatcha need from the Ron-Man?"
Shego rolled her eyes. "One, no more with the panic. Two, gimme your grapple thingy."
Ron looked blank for a second before remembering just what she was talking about, and he pulled the grapple unit provided courtesy of his contacts at Yamanouchi from his pocket. He tossed it up to her.
She grabbed it from the air. "Don't move any more than that. These things fall apart if you do." So saying, she took aim at the wall she'd cleared and fired. The grapple sailed across the room before impacting with the wall. It failed to drive in; the walls were too dense to penetrate, but it did hit the ground and snag in a pile of spear-bits.
"Where's your little pink thing?" Shego shouted down to Ron. She was starting to feel tremors in the square under her feet, suggesting maybe she was wrong…and they were about to fall out from under them, movement or no.
Ron dug into his other pocket, producing Rufus, who gave a thumbs-up to Shego, who in turn looked a bit creeped out. She still wasn't used to his intelligence.
Rufus scampered along Ron's arm and leaped onto Shego's square, which promptly began to tremble even harder. Her eyes widened as she felt it start to give. She scooped up the mole rat and flipped over onto another square not one second too soon; the one she had been standing on was gone by the time she turned and looked back at it.
Making a "phew" sound, Rufus clambered down Shego's leg to the ground again, before looking up at her. She shook her head. "Look, I'm gonna hold onto this end, you climb across the rope and figure out how to stop this stupid trap. Kay?"
"Uh huh!" Rufus delivered another thumbs-up before climbing back up her and across the rope. His weight caused the grapple to shift in the pile of debris, and he clung for dear life as the rope wavered, but it held, and he finished his way across without further incident.
"He'll find it," Ron called as his square passed hers on its way up. "Always does."
She remained silent as she favored him with a raised eyebrow. Do I really look like I need comforting? She had to admit, though, that this was certainly getting her adrenaline running.
Precisely two minutes after sending Rufus to find the mechanicals, Shego felt the room shudder to a halt. The spikes retracted, as did the spears, and while the floor remained uneven, at least it wasn't falling apart any more.
Jumping off the remnants of the trap, Shego inspected the table the two plotters had been at before. Sure enough, the maps were still there, as were the Risk pieces. She pulled the Kimmunicator off of the belt looped around the outside of her usual costume and held it over the table. "You guys getting this?"
"Affirmative," Betty Director's voice came back. "It is apparent that, while the plans look valid, they will take time to bring to fruition."
"Yeah," Shego agreed, "but it also looks like the call to Kimmie's site was a fake."
"Indeed. By the sound of it, this whole mission was a trap set for her. Well done in thwarting it."
"Piece of cake," Shego muttered. "Now can we get out of here?"
"Affirmative," Betty repeated. "There will be a Global Justice helicopter at your position in eight minutes. Go to castle roof for pickup. Director out." The screen winked to blackness.
Eight minutes later, as promised, the three of them were out of there.
--
"So I heard you did good today," Kim teased as Shego climbed in through the window back at their dorm.
"You heard, huh?" Shego asked as she closed the window. She marched over to the chair Kim was occupying, picked her up—being careful with her injured leg—sat down, and placed Kim on her lap. "Where'd you 'heard' that from?"
"A little birdie told me." She snuggled in close.
"A birdie with one eyeball?"
"Could be." Kim smiled demurely.
"Yeah, well, it's about to have one wing when I'm done with it," Shego grumped. She stretched her arms over her head. "Nap first, though. Geez, one look at you in this chair and I'm already ready to black out. Guess that was tougher than I thought."
"You've earned it," Kim assured her girlfriend, who gave her a level look in the middle of the stretch before completing it and appropriating Kim's shoulder as a pillow.
"Just a couple minutes," the green girl said tiredly. Kim just smiled and kissed her forehead.
"Sweet dreams," she whispered, for Shego was already asleep.
--
A/N: Okay, this started out as a "lazy day" chapter and ended up being not so much of one because I HAD to use that cliché. Sorry. It was too funny to pass up.
Next time: Kim's family makes a surprise visit to catch up with their injured daughter…