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 2)
Shego watched, anger beginning to waver, as the redhead took another step into the apartment. The Kim that locked eyes with her pulled the door shut, as soon as she was inside, with a soft click cutting off the chilly outside air.
Before the outraged woman could get more than a few accusations in edgewise, the impossible ghost interrupted, a perfect imitation of a voice that Shego knew she would never hear again, and by all rights, shouldn't be listening to now.
"Pack some things, just the essentials. There isn't much time. Hurry, get moving, you can't be here. Not tonight," the words rolled off the young woman's tongue with a subtle urgency that wasn't wholly present on her face.
It was the first thing that Shego picked up on, the only cue she had that, ghost or not, this couldn't be Kimmie, no matter what she looked like. There was no spark in this imposter's green eyes. There was no challenge in that tone, none of the fire that she'd come to associate with the headstrong hero.
But, there was seriousness. And that, the pale woman could certainly deal with. It honed that edge she'd been trying to summon, stoked the embers of outrage at the whole unjustness of the situation, back then, and now, standing in front of her in the present.
"No. I don't know what the hell is going on, but I'm not doing anything short of booting your skinny ass out the door, unless you start explaining where you get off coming here, looking like that," Shego started back around the couch, intent on making good on her word. She didn't need bullshit like this, certainly not now, just when she was starting to get her life sorted out again. When things were almost back to, well, what passed for normal for the assistant of a blue megalomaniac.
"Shego, you don't have time to argue, if you move quickly, everything will be fine," the Kim look-alike stated in a tone just shy of reassurance.
None of it was on the list of acceptable words the incensed woman might have been willing to listen to. "I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't be doing," Shego was already almost face to face with the shorter intruder. "Now, give me an explanation, or I beat it out of you," one hand reached out to grab the fake Kim by the front of the gray hoodie she was wearing, while the other balled up into a fist that quickly ignited with a burst of green fire.
The threat didn't even seem to register to the redhead, who only continued to stare up at the taller woman. "You could already be packed and out the door by now. This isn't the time to be playing around."
"Playing around? You little…I'll show you who's playing around," the raven-haired woman tightened her grip and prepared to lift the redhead up and flat out deck her for this bullshit. Only, she quickly realized something else that was just a tad off about this particular ghost from the past.
"Holy crap," Shego's arm trembled with the effort she was putting into even attempting to budge the bitch. She might as well have been trying to lift her couch one handed for all the good it was doing, and even then, she might have had better luck with the furniture. The sheer absurdity of it got her off track. "What have you been eating? You've gotta weight half a ton," Shego's arm started cramping up with the effort, and she ended up just letting go.
"Ready to go now," the redhead asked, prompting when Shego paused.
The flames died out, while Shego took a step back and rubbed the side of her head. This was only getting weirder, and she didn't like how the situation was totally out of her control.
"Fine. Whatever," Shego muttered. Then she scowled and stared hard at the redhead. "You owe me an explanation for this, and it better be damn good. I'm not looking forward to going back out into that crappy weather," she spun on her heel before the urge to just pummel the little upstart grew too strong. It didn't seem like such a great idea anymore. Not yet, anyway. "Shit, what am I supposed to be packing for?"
"Shego," the redhead called out to the grumbling woman who was walking away shaking her head.
"What? What is it now," the raven-haired woman shot back over her shoulder.
"Nothing. It's…good to see you like this again."
"I…whatever. If you're just going to stand there staring at my ass, come and help me put a bag together. It'll be faster, trust me." She continued on as if the redhead hadn't said anything, and made her way into the bedroom. She paused on the other side of the open door, and caught the deceptively soft sound of footfalls on the carpet following after her.