Disclaimer; Kim Possible is Property of Disney. This is a work of fan fiction for fun, not profit. "The Trace Without," a work by S3Cubed aka Six-string Samurai.
Chapter Two – Dukkha (part 1)
Despite the summer traffic, it hadn't taken Shego nearly as long as she'd first estimated to reach Middleton from Drakken's costal laboratory. In fact, she'd made excellent time under the circumstances, averaging a steady eighty miles per hour or more, once she'd gotten out of Orange County.
Inside the city limits, she slowed down to a decent speed, angling across town for the Possible residence. The raven haired thief played with the stereo tuner toggle behind the wheel, flicking through stations, but there was only the blare of insipid pop-tunes and the occasional commercial for some new energy drink. Each time that particular radio ad popped up, she immediately flicked the toggle to another station. Who the hell would want to drink something called Booty Sweat, she rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time.
Like with the rest of the trip, the radio proved useless for more information on what exactly had happened to Kim. Oh, she'd found a few spots on the AM band, but even those few talk shows only offered conflicting information. The only thing they agreed on was that Kim Possible was well and truly passed on. Shego gripped the steering wheel, knuckles popping within her leather gloves. Even still, after hours of ruminating, driving single-mindedly along highways and interstates, she bridled all too easily with anger at the very thought of the Redhead's death. So she kept telling herself.
But, tied up in that ball of anger seething in her gut were other emotions, thoughts she refused to acknowledge, and in doing, continued to stuff them away. What she needed was to see Kim for herself; that was the only way she knew to undo the knots in her stomach.
Kimmie. Shego turned a paler shade of green at the unbidden word, swallowing and doing her best to focus on the right side of the road. She'd already skirted her fare share of potential collisions during the trip, and didn't relish the irony that getting her killed in a moment of inattention when she was right in Kim's hometown would bring.
Ten minutes later and Shego was pulling onto the Possible's street. The whole drive, she'd been more concerned with being able to find the truth behind her nemesis's demise, and really hadn't actually considered just how she would have to get that information.
The green skinned woman frowned as pulled up alongside the driveway three houses down from the Possible's place. Shifting into park, she let the car idle while she fully considered her options, which were few as far as she could see.
One, she just bit the bullet and walked up to the front door. Given the circumstances, it wasn't as outlandish as it outwardly appeared. She knew both the Dr's Possible, and she had been a house guest once upon a time, even if it was something she'd tried to forget over the last few months.
However, even from where she was parked, she could see that the parents weren't exactly the issue at hand, but the half-dozen cars parked in the driveway and up the street from the house in question. Cars meant guests, and that increased the odds significantly that someone would not only object to her presence, but try to do something about it, such as notifying local law enforcement, if she was lucky.
Global Justice getting involved would be another basket of snakes that she didn't feel up for tangling with, not after cramming herself in the driver's seat for more than half a day. There was also the off chance that said organization was already in attendance, showing up to give condolences or whatever it was that they felt to be in order.
Usually, the risk factor wasn't one she'd be really worried about, not per se. Her whole idea wasn't to stick around anyway, she just wanted confirmation one way or the other, and she could get back to her life. In and out, no big deal, that was what her basic plan amounted to.
The second route she could take was by far the more appealing one. All she had to do was sneak in through one of the top windows, eavesdrop for a little bit until she heard enough to be satisfied, and get the hell out of Middleton with no one else the wiser.
Yes, the plan was almost decided before she'd considered it.
Initially, she'd been set on going in through Pumpkin's bedroom window, though that was shot to hell once she saw the light on and shadows moving against the drawn curtains. Damn it. Crouched on the limb of a tree that brushed against the roof of the house, she was all but completely hidden by the shadows of the thick foliage that blended well with the colors of the spare catsuit she'd changed into at a rest stop a little after crossing the California state line.
Perhaps if she waited, the people in the room would take their conversation elsewhere in the house. It appeared to be a heated argument judging from the way the shadows were gesticulating wildly, but she couldn't make out anything being said without going out further on the limb and risking notice.
Shego held herself in check not a moment too soon, for one of the curtains was pulled aside, and she found out just who was in the room as Anne Possible pressed a hand against the glass to shade her eyes from the early morning sun that crested the horizon behind the house. From her vantage point, the verdant woman couldn't see much of anything past Kim's mother other than the closet and an edge of Kim's vanity. Anne was also in the way of whomever she'd been talking to, was still talking to, Shego amended as the older redhead turned to look over her shoulder and move her lips.
It was times like this when Shego cursed the fact that her erstwhile foe had taken it upon herself to upgrade the security of her room in an attempt to thwart any villains in seeking a little preemptive revenge. The windows to the room were obviously more than just simple double panes, and Shego's practiced eyes made out nearly hidden wires rimming the inside of the sill. Nothing too elaborate, and easy enough to bypass, assuming there weren't any hidden surprises cooked up by the hero's chubby little dial-a-nerd.
For now though, the thief would either need to bide her time, or try one of the other windows, figuring her best bet would either be the parent's room, or the upstairs bathroom. She wasn't about to give obnoxious little twin terror's window a try, it would probably explode, if she was lucky. So, she settled into a better position in the tree, hinging on Dr. Possible taking leave of Kim's room.
On the other side of the glass, Anne shifted away from the view, turning back to regard the young man she'd been unsuccessfully trying to absolve since nearly the moment he'd arrived the night before. Her daughter's oldest and probably dearest friend, partner and at least for a few months, love interest, Ron Stoppable.
The two of them had spent the past ten minutes rehashing what was by now, old ground. The young blond had taken it to heart that he was to blame for Kim's death, and so far, she'd had a terrible time trying to get him to see otherwise. It hadn't helped that she'd been one of the few people to place it there when they'd first gotten the word in a roundabout manner from her daughter's young acquaintance, Wade Load, whom the Doctor had yet to meet in person, though he assured her that he would be showing up later this afternoon.
From their brief conversation over one of her daughter's spare Kimmunicators, it had been easy enough to see that the pre-teen was shouldering as much of the personal blame, if not more, than Ron himself was. The whole situation was just too much for either boy to handle alone, which was part of the reason why the Possibles had decided to have a gathering so soon after their daughter passed away. Grieving was never an easy thing, and while Anne knew that everyone had their own personal way, grieving alone was often the hardest road. With everyone that knew Kimberly closely together in one place, it was easier to remind each other of the vibrant young woman her daughter had been, rather than the lifeless shell that was interred at the Middleton Funeral home until the funeral was held.
Neither of them heard the bathroom door down the hall softly click shut.