Slam Tilt

XX

Thoughts swirled in a hazy amalgam as Shego floated, lost in her own mind. She saw a lot of blue, a lot of green, heard the occasional shattered fragment of sound. She knew she was thinking of Drakken, at least in some distant, vague way. A flash of red, black, and cornflower blond seemed to be an approximation of Ron Stoppable.

A darker, bulkier impression sent a streak of anger coursing through Shego's haze. It was Midas.

Shego was partly conscious, and she concentrated as hard as she could, trying to put the pieces together. She could tell she was under the influence of some kind of drug. Flashes of pink frosting, ridged paper: the cupcakes. Her surroundings began to organize themselves around her, and she saw that she was gaining consciousness in a small room. Not just any room; one of her control room prison cells, in which she had locked up Kim and Ron earlier.

As her senses pulled themselves into their normal clarity, Shego couldn't help but smile. Midas was even stupider than she thought. And, think of the devil, there he was. Sitting in her throne in the center of the room and looking over at her with a smug look. Soon she would wipe that smug look off his face.

"Looks like you're all coming back," said Midas as he rose from his seat and approached the cell.

Shego looked around her; Bonnie, Junior, Senior, and Ron were also locked into the cell with her. It was a little cramped. "Drugged the cupcakes?" she asked.

"That's right. I knew you'd go for the cupcakes when you came back from your little night out on the town with that dork there. You've been eating so many of those things in the past few weeks, I don't know how you keep your figure. Although, to be honest, you're looking a little pudgy around the waist there."

It took all of Shego's willpower to ignore the comment.

"We were here in the control room, waiting for your return so we could capture you," said Midas as he motioned to the other henchmen in the room, who were gathering to look at their captives. He motioned to Bonnie and the Seniors. "But these people showed up first."

Senior nodded cordially from behind the bars. "I am Señor Senior Senior. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Whatever. We were trying to decide what to do about their unexpected arrival when you showed up in your hovercraft with Kim Possible's sidekick and started fighting them. After which you all did me a favor and ate the cupcakes. Thanks."

"So what's the deal?" asked Shego. "Tired of being a henchman? Decided supervillainy looked like it'd be fun to try out for a change of pace?"

Midas looked a little miffed. Although Shego was right, something about the way she said it made it sound mundane, predictable. She was not paying the proper amount of respect to his brilliant double cross.

"Well, yeah. That's basically it."

"And what makes you think you're gonna be a better supervillain than I was?"

Midas laughed raucously. A few of the other henchmen laughed with him, but Shego noticed that they were much more hesitant. Whether it was because they weren't as loyal to Midas as he thought, or because they were still scared of her, she couldn't tell. If it was the latter, however, they were smarter than Midas was.

"You barely even tried," said Midas. "You set up this lair, you stole a few things here and there, but you never made any attempt to take over the world. You never built any super weapons or robot armies or Molecular Magnetizers – your heart was never in it!"

"Molecular whatsits?"

"I don't know, it's just an example I made up," said Midas as he waved his hand impatiently. "The point is, you were never cut out for supervillainy, Shego. I don't know if you remember when we first met, but every single massage session I had with you, it was Drakken this, Drakken that. 'I can do this better than Drakken, that mullet-haired moron wouldn't know evil if it smacked him in the face!' you'd say. I could barely keep a hot rock balanced on your back without you sitting up and knocking it off, going into another tirade. 'Mark my words Midas, any day now, I'm tearing up my contract with that fool and getting into the solo business!' Do you remember?"

"Wow," laughed Ron, "his impression of you isn't too shabby, Shego!"

Ron's comment went straight past Shego. She remembered. She remembered everything Midas said.

What was more, she knew that she could be a good supervillain if she really tried. She could picture it, clear as day: armies of henchmen marching in green and black uniforms; re-education centers where she would send anyone who did not acknowledge her greatness; a gigantic tower in which she gripped the reins of her empire with an iron fist. Middleton would be renamed. Shegoton, maybe. No, that was lame, she'd have to think of something else. But she would no longer be Shego; she would be the Supreme One. It was almost as if that world was real. Really hers, existing in some alternate, parallel timeline she could only glimpse in her imagination.

Reality, however, had turned out differently.

Things had all started to change after she and Drakken had saved the world with Kim Possible and the buffoon. Life had a way of piling up on her, of chipping steadily away at that self-image Shego had built up in her mind. The abortive semi-relationship with Drakken that crashed and burned before it would lift off; the way Drakken had so quickly embraced a life of straight-laced entrepreneurship, a life lamely lacking in lawlessness; and finally, Shego's attempt to try out supervillainy, which somehow ended up more hollow, more of a hassle, than she had ever expected in her days as right hand woman to Doctor D. It had all changed her.

Most disturbing of all was that, while she had trouble admitting it even to herself, saving the world had been sort of fun. Doing it had planted a seed of doubt in Shego's mind. Doubt that she was as sure of her own personality and interests as she had thought when she left Team Go for a life of villainy. Not that she would ever join those chumps again.

Midas watched her triumphantly, knowing that his point had hit home. Shego stepped up to the cell bars. It was time to put him in his place.

"Alright," she said. "You're sort of right. Even if I could be a great supervillain, it's really not my thing. Your mistake is in thinking that you have a snowball's chance in hell at topping me in anything."

"Big words from a woman behind bars," said Midas.

"Sweetie? Do you know what you forgot about this prison cell?"

Midas thought for a moment, then shrugged.

"I'm the one who designed it. Along with the rest of this lair, you idiot!"

Several henchmen began backing away as Midas' triumphant smile faded into confusion. Shego pressed her face against the bars on the far right side of the prison, as close to the locking mechanism outside the door as she could.

"Open!" she shouted.

Shego voice recognition confirmed, echoed a voice from over the control room. Prison bars retracting.

Shego stepped through the open prison door and cracked her knuckles before lighting them up. The skin tone of Midas' face lightened by several shades in a matter of seconds, but he snapped his fingers at his henchmen, who were beginning to take a few steps backwards.

"They're outnumbered at least four to one," said Midas. "And she's engorged with cupcakes!"

Shego roared as she rushed at Midas, flaming fists flying in an arc towards his face. Midas dodged the slashes and began fighting back, but Shego was completely confident in her superiority. He had learned a few things from her, to be sure, but even against Junior, she didn't think Midas would have the edge. As she pummeled Midas unrelentingly with her fiery fists and pushed him back into the control room, Shego knew that beating up her backstabbing ex would be a cathartic experience.

"I got these!" shouted Ron as he engaged a trio of henchmen in combat.

"I have got these as well!" shouted Junior as he attacked another group.

Midas was holding up better than she had expected, but Shego was still able to risk an occasional glance at the other fights raging in the room. Ron was fighting some of her mutinous henchmen; did that mean he was on her side now? Which side was she even on, for that matter? A jarring punch from Midas forced Shego to focus her attention back on the fight, although she was surprised to notice that even Señor Senior Senior looked like he was holding his own against a burly henchman.

"Duck, Ron Stoppable!"

Ron complied with Junior's shout and ducked just in time for Junior to send a henchman flying over his back with a well placed kick. Ron watched the man roll off over the floor and gave Junior a high five before the two of them went after another opponent. Junior noticed another henchman running towards him – one with even more upper body muscle tone than he did, if that was possible – but just before his enemy reached him, Junior joined hands with his girlfriend and clotheslined the man in mid-attack.

"Nice one, Bon Bon!"

"Thanks sweetie," said Bonnie as she gave another henchman a vicious claw with her fingernails. The man looked down at his torn uniform and saw five bloody scratch marks on his chest. This manicure was worth every penny, Bonnie thought in amazement as the man screeched and ran away.

Shego was on the verge of subduing Midas when several more henchmen joined in the fight against her. She blocked punch after punch, kick after kick. One flew back and smashed into a mainframe after taking one of her spinning kicks to the stomach, a shower of sparks raining down on his remaining companions. Another pair of henchmen fell to the ground after Shego managed to use the first one's head as a mallet against the other one. She scoffed as Midas' backup disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared. Fighting her former goons made it even more clear that she was not cut out to be a supervillain; she had hired these people for their sculpted abs and easiness on the eyes, but she really hadn't taken the time to train them properly. It was almost embarrassing.

"This is my island now, Shego!" yelled Midas as his attacks became more erratic. He was tiring rapidly, and he knew it.

"You wouldn't even be a henchman if I hadn't hired you," said Shego as she swung streams of plasma at her foe. Midas fell back further, his uniform singed and his energy flagging. "You think you can run this island? You think you can take me? You should go back to massage therapy."

"So you can turn into some kind of world saving hero with Ron Stoppable?" taunted Midas. "We all know what happened between him and Kim Possible, and you're filling in for the role. Hanging out with her sidekick all night? Pathetic. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were one of the good guys!"

Shego snarled and redoubled her attacks. Midas took one, two, three punches as he stumbled back to the corner of the control room beside the arcade machines. The other henchmen had long since realized that there was no way they could compete against Shego, especially when she had backup to distract them, and they were spending their time fighting halfheartedly against Ron, Bonnie, and the Seniors, waiting for the fight to be over. Midas was alone. As he reached a wall, gasping for breath, Shego grabbed him by the arm.

"Good?" said Shego as she pulled Midas towards her and flipped him over her back. Midas crashed into the top of a pinball machine, which collapsed in a sickening crunch of wood, plastic, and glass.

"Too good for you, maybe."

The pinball machine's crushed remains joined Midas in a groan as they settled to the floor. A silver ball from the machine rolled away into the control room. The sounds of fighting trailed off as the other henchmen slowed down, noticing one by one that their leader was down for the count.

Game over, gargled the machine. Please insert coin to continue!

XX

Although Kim knew the location of the Upperton Global Justice branch, she had never been there before. She and Ron had always gone to the Middleton facilities while they still went on missions together, and even on the handful of times Kim met with Global Justice afterwards, she had always met with Dr. Director in Middleton. She reached the street where she expected the Upperton branch to be; it was a street like any other, and Kim saw no sign of clandestine spy agencies among any of the shops and small businesses lining the road. But then, why would she?

Kim looked down at the sidewalk and noticed an unusual crack in the concrete, curving around and meeting itself in a circle a few paces away from her. Global Justice had a certain fondness for underground facilities. She smiled as she positioned herself in the center of the circle and looked at her watch. A little later than she had meant to arrive – downtown parking problems, as usual - but hopefully Dr. Director was not in a huge hurry to talk to her. Kim tapped her foot in the circle as she waited.

"Alright," she said aloud to no one in particular. "Beam me down, Scotty."

"Kim Possible!"

Ki m looked up at the sound of the greeting and saw a woman with a patch over one eye, standing in the open door of a nondescript shop a few yards away from her.

"Dr. Director? What are you doing there?"

"Come in, please."

Kim followed the director into the building, which had a sign over the front door that read 'Uncle Ollie's Used Undergarments.' She wrinkled her nose as she entered the shop, and Dr. Director took a reflexive glance around the sidewalk outside before closing the door behind them.

"Welcome to Global Justice's Upperton office," said Dr. Director.

"What's with the sign?"

"Keeps people from coming in and bothering us."

Kim grunted in reply. She supposed it worked well enough as a cover.

"Please, come into the back office."

Kim and Dr. Director entered a back room behind the one-room shop itself. The office was a little musty and worn-looking, containing a scuffed wooden desk and chair, along with a threadbare love seat along the wall. The wallpaper was faded and decorated with what looked like pastel flowers, and Kim noticed several framed photographs of cats hanging along the wall, as well as some feline figurines on the desk.

Dr. Director approached what looked like a closet door and opened it. It was a closet, but it was empty. She motioned for Kim to join her inside. Kim entered the closet, although there was barely enough room for the two of them, and felt herself scrunched against the wall as Dr. Director closed the door and looked up at a light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

"Alpha Tango Kickball Marmot," she spoke.

Access granted, murmured the light bulb with a flicker of electricity.

Kim felt her stomach drop along with the floor as the utility closet suddenly descended into the ground. Now this is more like a Global Justice facility, Kim thought. Before more than a couple of seconds had passed, however, the closet elevator came to a halt and the door opened again, revealing the same office they had been in.

"Wait, what?"

"This is our actual office," said Dr. Director. "Located right beneath the fake duplicate on the ground floor."

"What, they look exactly the same?"

"That's correct."

Dr. Director left the closet and took a seat behind the desk, motioning to the nearby love seat, where Kim took a seat. She looked around; the office was indeed the same as the one upstairs. Furniture that looked like it had seen better days, pictures of cats along the wall, a few ceramic kitten figurines carefully arranged on the desk in front of Dr. Director.

"What's with the lame décor?" she asked.

"Those are Betsy's things," said Dr. Director as she looked disdainfully at the cat-themed accessories and tacky wallpaper to which Kim was referring. "She is the acting subdirector of the Upperton offices, but she's out sick, and I offered to cover her shift."

"Subdirector? So she's below you?"

"That is correct," snapped Dr. Director, a little testily. Kim sensed there was some kind of rivalry between her and Bonnie. "You know," she said, "I was expecting a little more from the Upperton branch."

"Such as?"

"I don't know. A laboratory, control center, training area, things like that. Like in Middleton!"

"We don't have the finances to set up a facility like the one we have at Middleton for every single city in the world," said Dr. Director, her testy tone rising. "We are Global Justice, after all. Being global isn't cheap. What are we, magic?"

"Okay, okay," said Kim. "Point taken, sheesh. So what did you want to talk about with me?"

"The mission."

Kim grimaced at Dr. Director's comment. She had expected it to be something about the mission, but she still didn't feel like getting a lecture from Dr. Director about quitting the mission so abruptly.

"Look," she said, "I know we didn't really figure out what Drakken might be up to, but honestly, I get the impression it's probably not much. And I didn't see anything too fishy with either Shego or the Seniors – it seems to me like all of them have been getting lazy since I was in high school."

"That is true," Dr. Director replied. "Dementor is still fairly active, but Drakken, Shego, and the Seniors began to fall off of our radar soon after you quit doing missions, and other supervillains have been making a name for themselves since then. And Ron has been scoping out Shego's island for us in a little more detail, so we had no problem with you leaving the mission early."

"Oh? I figured he got Wade to give him a ride out of there as soon as I left. How long did he stay?"

"He's still there, as far as I know," said Dr. Director as Kim raised an eyebrow in surprise. "But that not why I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to talk to you about missions in general. Specifically, the fact that you haven't been doing them anymore. It is true that we sent on you on this mission to recover Drakken's stolen merchandise so you could investigate this new cupcake business of his, as well as to do some reconnaissance on whoever was stealing from him, but that wasn't actually the main reason I wanted you to go."

Kim listened silently. She had a vague idea of where Dr. Director was going.

"I sent you on the mission with Ron because – well, because I wanted you to go on a mission with Ron."

"Why?"

"I know the two of you haven't been close recently, but I was hoping that this mission might get the two of you closer, perhaps going on missions again. Together."

"You haven't called me or beeped me in months," said Kim. "Why do you need me now?"

"Global Justice has been holding up without you, but to be quite honest, there is no one in our organization who can match your particular set of skills and expertise when it comes to fighting supervillains. People like Will Du are talented and loyal, don't get me wrong, but they lack your creativity and independent spirit. We need people who are willing to work with us, who are on our side, but who are outside the system. People like you and Ron.

"I know you haven't been interested in going on missions ever since the two of you broke up, and I thought it would be best to give you some time to get your priorities in order and get some distance from what happened. I have waited, and now I feel that it is time to get you back into the world saving business. Which was a tricky proposition, because that involves you and Ron being together, at least in a professional capacity."

Dr. Director's words sent a surge of pride coursing through Kim. Not the good kind of pride, but the indignant, selfish pride that had sometimes caused her problems in the past. She was aware of that even as she felt herself become defensive, but she couldn't help but protest against Dr. Director's insinuation that she could not do the missions alone.

"You're forgetting one of our meetings long ago," said Dr. Director. Kim had said nothing, but she could tell what the young woman was thinking. Dr. Director was well aware of not only Kim's virtues, but her failings. Global Justice did have a psychological profile on Kim Possible – and Ron Stoppable as well – but she had gotten enough of an impression of Kim's personality just by working with her.

"Do you remember the Ron Factor?"

Kim stared for a moment, and finally nodded.

"Ron is an essential part of your team. He adds an element of uncertainty to things when the two of you are working together; he keeps you alert and on your toes. He keeps your enemies on their toes, for that matter – at the very least, his incessant comments and non sequiturs are a distraction for them. Ron thinks about things in a different way than you do, and he offers a different perspective on your missions, even if his combat skills do not match your own. Although Global Justice believes he could improve greatly with those mystical powers, if he took them more seriously."

Kim nodded reluctantly. She knew that Dr. Director was right.

"I think those last few missions of yours before you quit to focus on college were a solid demonstration of the importance of the Ron Factor. The few where you worked with us after breaking up with Ron Stoppable, before you gave up going on missions entirely. Do you remember your last mission, against Duff Killigan?"

Kim nodded again, the unpleasant memory of that day coming back to her.

"You were getting complacent. Your game was off, and it was obvious that something was out of balance – and Duff Killigan is not one of your most dangerous opponents, Kim. You would have been in serious trouble if we had not gotten there to back you up. We both know the missing ingredient from that mission."

"Okay, but I felt like something was out of balance on this last mission, too," pointed out Kim. "And Ron was with me this time."

Dr. Director laughed. "Well, of course. You were out of practice, and things are bound to be awkward between you and Ron at first. But it was a bit of a strange mission to begin with, after all – you don't normally help one of your opponents, so that must have thrown you off. Not to mention that the two of you were missing the Rufus Factor," said Dr. Director thoughtfully. "I wonder why the mole rat didn't tag along."

Kim shrugged. She had been a little disappointed at not seeing Rufus again, although as Ron's pet, perhaps the naked mole rat disliked her on principle ever since the breakup. The thought put her in a melancholy mood.

"How do you know I even want to go on missions anymore?" she said.

"Come on, Kim. It was a part of your life for years. You were helping people long before you were even saving the world – it's in your blood. You're telling me it was just a coincidence that you quit doing something you were passionate about for years at the same time you broke up with Ron? You just happened to decide you wanted to shift your interests at that particular time in your life?"

"I'm happy with Monique," said Kim. "People can change."

"Yes, they can," said Dr. Director. "But did you?"

Kim tapped her fingers on the table, at a loss for an answer.

"You can be happy with Monique and return to your missions at the same time, Kim. Just because you've accepted something new into your life doesn't mean you have to leave behind the old. I'm not saying it's easy, but I think you loved those missions, and even if you're happy now, you'd be happier with them back in your life. You'd be happier with Ron back in your life, too. And you can have all of those things if you make an effort, which would work out quite nicely for me as well."

Dr. Director leaned forward, her voice lowered even though no one else is in the room. "To be honest, Kim, I get a little tired of relying on subordinates like Will Du all the time. It would be nice to work with you more often."

Kim felt like she had been fighting against Dr. Director's arguments, and yet she wondered if she was fighting against herself. Although she resisted, she knew that Dr. Director was right.

"Even if I did want to go on missions again," said Kim, "all of this depends on Ron. I was still willing to be friends with him after we ended our relationship, but he wasn't interested. He was the one who cut things off completely. After this last mission, I doubt he'll be as willing to listen to your arguments as I am."

Dr. Director nodded as she sat back in her chair. Perhaps Kim Possible had a point; perhaps she was talking to the wrong person, as she had been fairly confident that Kim would return to the missions as long as she got a push in the right direction. Ron Stoppable, however, was less certain.

The boy's unique contribution to Team Possible was the same thing that made him so hard to gauge. He was more erratic, unpredictable. Maybe more attached to Kim Possible than she was to him – at least that was an impression Dr. Director had picked up from being around the two of them. And although he had a strong moral compass, he was a little less passionate than Kim Possible when it came to putting himself in danger and taking risks for the sake of upholding justice and fighting evil. Betty knew that a large part of Ron's interest in the missions was centered on Kim's involvement in them.

In the end, it really did come down to the Ron Factor.

XX

Sardines, thought Shego. They look just like sardines.

Midas and the henchmen, who had been fighting against Shego and her unexpected new allies minutes ago, were now stuffed into the handful of prison cells lining the wall of her control room. Midas himself was crowded into the center cell with a number of other prisoners. It was the same cell where almost everyone in the room had now spent some time over the course of the last couple days. His face pressed against the bars as a mass of mutinous henchmen pushed into him from behind. Shego watched him with a satisfied smirk as Ron, Bonnie, and the Seniors stood around her.

"What am I going to do with all of you?" she asked.

Midas glared at his ex-girlfriend and captor through the cage bars. "You won't do anything if you know what's good for you. Haven't you read the Henchmen's Rights Act of 2001? Our contract requires a certain standard of treatment even in case of termination. Throwing us into a shark pit, dropping us from your hovercraft, or anything else you might be planning is a violation of those standards."

"Maybe I'll just ignore the contract," said Shego. "I'm evil, remember?"

Midas scoffed. "Yeah right. Besides, you ignore the contract, you face legal consequences."

Ron scratched his head at the interchange. "Legal consequences? Isn't everything you guys do kind of outside the law by definition?"

"Villain lawyers," explained Shego. "Pretty much indistinguishable from regular lawyers, actually."

Ron whistled. The world of supervillains was much more complicated than he expected. He didn't understand what villain lawyers could do when they were dealing with people who were perfectly willing to flout any kind of law and vaporize their opponents, but then, he wasn't an expert on the subject.

"Maybe after I take care of you guys, I'll feed your lawyers to the sharks too," said Shego as she walked by the cell in which Midas was trapped and ran her fingers provocatively over the bars. "I think cannibalism is a little icky, to be honest, but it would kill two birds with one stone."

Señor Senior Senior leaned close to her ear and spoke in a whisper. "Excuse me, but do you actually have a shark pool in this lair? I must tell you I tried to acquire one of my own, but the regulations were just too much; we settled on koi instead. However did you achieve such a wonderful lair accessory?"

Shego shushed him impatiently. She had no shark pit, but they were on an island in the middle of the ocean. It wasn't that hard to find a few sharks. And the sharks were beside the point anyway. It wasn't the specifics of the threat, but its substance that mattered, and judging by the clammy pallor of Midas' face, as well as the drop of sweat that was traveling slowly down his forehead, Shego could tell she was getting to him.

"Look, maybe getting villain law into this is unnecessary," said Midas. "I'm sure we can just talk this out. Okay, so I betrayed you and tried to usurp your position, but is that such a big deal? What about our history, Shego? Think about all the good times we had together in the past – remember that night in the hot tub? Remember the bubble jets?"

Bonnie and Senior grimaced at the comment, while Ron and Junior scratched their heads in confusion. Shego glared. If Midas was trying to get on her good side – a side which she was still loathe to admit she even possessed – playing the role of whiny ex-boyfriend was not going to work. And those bubble jets had turned out to be highly uncomfortable, anyway. Midas clearly had a selective memory.

"I don't know why you even want this island," said Midas, taking a cue from Shego's expression that his current tack was not going anywhere he wanted to be going. "It's been obvious for a while that you aren't into this. The supervillain thing, running a lair, managing us. Your heart isn't in it – we were doing you a favor, you know. I mean, what are you going to do? You're really just going keep sitting around and stealing cupcakes in between partying and drinking in your lounge? That's your plan for the future?"

Shego was about to shove an arm through the cell bars and grab Midas by the neck in her fiery clutches, but she stopped in mid-stride. Midas stood back in fear for a moment as Shego stared. Her ex boyfriend's words rang in her mind like the clang of a bell. The man was infuriating. He had betrayed her, tried to take what was hers.

And yet he was completely right.

Shego looked around the control room in wonder. She looked the snazzy throne she had made for herself, that seat in which she had once entertained idle thoughts of world domination. It was her island, her not-so-secret supervillain lair, and yet it was not hers. Not really. She was a stranger, standing in someone else's home. Intruding. Whether she had a home or not, Shego didn't know – but this was not it. Shego had been nursing her doubts for a long time, but it was only this weekend that had brought those doubts crashing out from the thicket of her subconscious and into the harsh light of day.

Her pathetic fixation on Drakken and his little cupcakes. Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable, crashing down the remains of her false life. And now, her ex-boyfriend and ex-subordinate. A complete idiot who had just put the last puzzle piece into place.

Shego looked down at the ground as a bright flash of something caught her eye. It was the pinball that had rolled away from the smashed machine. She picked it up and looked it over. The machine had been an antique – a Captain Constellation model she had stolen long ago from a bar in Go City while inebriated, in fact. But she didn't mind it being destroyed so much. None of Shego's games were really making her happy anymore.

"You're right."

Midas watched Shego nervously through the prison bars.

"I'm sorry?"

"You're right," she said. "What am I going to do with this place?"

Shego laughed. It was amazing how things could become so clear so quickly.

"You can have this place," she told Midas. "I've got villain insurance anyway, and I'm tired of this crap. Good luck doing anything with it!"

Shego turned around and began to leave the control room.

"Wait! What about letting us out?"

"I didn't say anything about letting you out!"

Ron gaped at Shego for a moment as she left the room, and then exchanged looks with Bonnie and the Seniors, who seemed equally bewildered. It wasn't exactly a decision he had been expecting from Shego, and he was just as unaware of the existence of villain's insurance as he was of villain lawyers. He had been learning a lot lately. As Shego left the control room, Ron gave Midas a helpless shrug before running to join her.