I do NOT own Kim Possible

Not much action this time. Ron does modify one device. Some baby talk.

Time: A little over a week since the last chapter.

Kim Possible Dead? No Way!... Alien Languages,... Baby Talk,...

She was still alive. That was disappointing. She sighed and ran through the building, hunting rats. She tortured them mercilessly. The something had gotten over the shock and no longer cowered when she thought hard of the three who had wounded her so badly. She could feel its fear, but the total panic was gone. That too was disappointing. It wanted to see things suffer and the rats were all that was available. Better rats than people, she thought. The image of those three still allowed her to persuade it from attacking people. All she had to do was remind it hurting people would be noticed. Rats wouldn't. That the three would find her, and they could kill her.

Another rat fell into shock beneath her fingers and she dropped it. She wanted to finish killing it, to end its suffering. The something wouldn't allow it. The rat was still suffering, to it that was good. It still made her sick though. Even after all she'd done and seen. The something enjoyed that too. She sighed again and looked around. There was a mirror on the wall, broken, but fragments of it remained.

She stared at the face that looked back at her. She no longer looked like her sister. For some reason that hurt. Her sister had had blonde hair too. But where she had dark blue eyes her sister had had pale blue eyes. They had got into staring contests with each other. It had been fun. As a kid she had loved looking into those beautiful pale blue eyes. They had reminded her of jewels. So amazing. And they had been filled with such love for her. That would never happen again. Her sister no longer had two pale blue eyes. She turned and ran from the mirror. The something demanded she cause suffering and she obeyed.

A week ago she had been near death. Now she was strong and fast again. The cough had went away after a few days. Her strength had returned. That was the problem with healing so fast. It made dying hard. It tormented her, knowing just how close she'd been. The expectation of the end, then being pulled back from it. Being forced to continue living. Being forced to hurt again.

An image of the redhead, Kim Possible, rose in her mind. She paused in her pursuit of the rats. The thought wasn't hers. It came from the something. Then came the burning need to kill. It ran through her with such force she fell thrashing to the floor. The image, along with the need, faded. Then it returned with even more force. The need to kill Kim Possible consumed her. She wept as she realized the something had been thinking. The three could kill her. But not if she killed them first. She ran from the building.

It was still dark out. Her appearance wouldn't draw much attention this early, with the sun yet to rise. But the need drove her and she knew she wouldn't be able to approach the woman looking like she did. She would need to wash. To find new clothes. And find a weapon. That was what caused the most despair. She had believed the woman might defeat her. If not her alone then the three, who had once hurt her, together. The woman had nearly died beneath her hands once. She wouldn't be caught by surprise like that again. But the something had changed the rules. This time she would use a weapon, and strike to kill when the woman was alone. I had begun to hope, she realized. And not just hope, but to believe those three would kill me. Now... She couldn't bear the thought and the something inside rejoiced at her pain.

She picked the house carefully. The something wanted a house filled with lights, where there would be people. She threw back the image of the three who would soon die. Not dead yet, she thought as hard as she could, projecting the image into her mind. The something subsided at that. She wondered if she had done the wrong thing. The screams might have drawn attention. The three might have come and found her. Killed her. But the thought of hurting people when she could decide not too made the decision impossible.

The house was small. It looked lived it, yet at the moment empty. The lawn was well kept, but there was no car in the driveway. She hoped it was empty. That just one person, now not at home, lived there. She entered carefully. Smashing a window on the side facing away from the street, and listening carefully. There was no sound in the house at the smashing of the glass. She knocked all of the glass in. Unless someone looked carefully it would just look like an open window. Entering she walked through the house. It was empty. From the clothes, and the pictures on the wall, she could tell a woman lived here. Someone who was very old. She hoped they wouldn't be home anytime soon.

She found the bathroom and showered. The first she'd had since she'd escaped that place. It took a long time and a lot of soap to get rid of the smell. There was even a solitary toothbrush and some toothpaste to brush her teeth with. She brush for over a half hour. Finally her breath didn't seem especially bad. The clothes fit her pretty well, though the clothes of an old woman looked odd on her. But not as odd as the burns and the short hair made her look. She considered and took a cap. It hid the hair and covered a bit of her face. She would stand out, but not overly so. The need burned within her and she left the house, glad the old woman hadn't returned. She carried with her a knife, taken from the kitchen. The blade was maybe a foot long. She wondered what the old woman used it for. Not that it mattered. She knew what it would be used for next. She slid the weapon up her sleeve, ready to drop down at a moments notice.

Finding the house and cleaning up had taken a long time. The sun was now shining brightly, though the wind was cold. She pulled up the hood of her coat over the cap. It would hide more. It was strange walking around in daylight without having people turn and stare at her. She passed close by a man and she felt the need rise in her. Not uncontrollably so. The something was toying with her. The man must have sensed something from her because he turned and looked at her, face white. Or maybe he had just seen the scars. She walked, heading towards the Upperton College campus.

There were a lot of students and she realized just how lucky she had been to find Kim Possible the last time. She walked among the crowd and the something inside her shuddered. She thought it was having a hard time controlling itself with so many people around. The need that flowed from it was nearly impossible to contain. Visions of people with their skin slashed and broke bones poking out flashed across her eyes. The desire to make the vision reality was consuming her. She had to find the woman fast or she would end up hurting a lot of people.

She doubted the woman would be at the gym again. And if she was there would be no way to get close to her without being spotted. She might look different now, but she thought the woman probably had sharp eyes. Just like her. She continued walking around gulping, and sometimes trembling, as the need washed over her. The disturbing visions would soon drive her to hurt.

Then she spotted the woman. The something within her focused the need and she saw exactly how she was to kill Kim Possible. She kept her distance and just followed. When she saw the woman was going to enter a dense crowd of people she closed in, using the people to shield her from sight. She got closer and closer to the woman. Despair filled her as the need drove her. The woman was supposed to kill her. It wasn't supposed to end like this. Anticipation and joy mixed in with the need. The something was already rejoicing at the woman's death. Enjoying the despair she was feeling. The knife dropped down into her hand and she stepped forward. There was hardly any resistance as her inhuman strength drove the knife into the back of Kim Possible's head, deep within her brain.

Ron sat back, staring at the screen in front of him. The task was so difficult he didn't know why Global Justice was even bothering to try. He took a sip of coffee. It was something Miranda had made. The next time she was over he would have to find out just what the blend was. It was good with a slight blackberry flavor. Actually it was beyond good. He took another sip and looked at the screen again. On it there was a sample of the alien language.

He wasn't as skilled with languages as he was with machines. Not even close. And even if he had been, the task of deciphering the alien writing would have been nearly impossible. Perhaps even impossible. He looked up as Shego leaned down over his shoulder. She wasn't looking at the monitor, she was looking at the cup of coffee he held. He grinned and handed to her. Only for her would he give up such an amazing cup.

"Shouldn't you be heading over to Dr. Betty Director to be scolded again?" He asked.

"That can wait." Shego replied. She'd been called, for the hundredth and sixty-eighth time, to appear before the woman for breaking Global Justice protocol.

"Who was it this time? Another five year old kid?"

"Actually it was a group of teens." Melissa spoke up. "They heard there was a lot of fuss over the dolls and formed a cult over them."

"A cult?" Ron blinked.

Melissa shrugged. "Seems they heard a woman with green skin blew a hole in someone's roof while stealing several of them. They decided the dolls must be important and could grant supernatural powers. They found two of them, who knows where, and decided to worship them."

"Oh." He didn't know what to say. "At least it wasn't another five year old." He added.

"They were harmless." Melissa told him. "Just a group of kids doing something stupid. One of them only wanted the ability to heal as a superpower. Seems his sister is always getting sick and he wanted to be able to help her."

Ron thought on that. Given he had comet powers, thinking dolls could grant such powers wasn't too outrageous. It had even been idols that had given him the ability to use Tai Shing Pek Kwar. "Healing would be a nice superpower to have." He admitted. Especially if it could heal something like a missing eye, he though, thinking of Miranda. The smell of the coffee still lingered in the air.

"Well. I better check in and get my scolding over with." Shego leaned down and kissed him. She left, taking the cup with her.

"Why is it so difficult?" Melissa asked, pointing at the screen. She was one of the few Global Justice agents who actually knew about the Lorwardians. She'd been involved in searching the ruins of Drakken's lair where Warmonga had first appeared.

"Impossible to know which way to read the symbols, or what they mean." Ron explained.

"So you don't know if its from left to right, or from right to left?"

"Or even if it's from the top down, or from the bottom up." Ron added. "The four corners gives four likely starting positions, and there are two possible directions to read from each corner." He sighed. "That alone is eight possible ways to read the language. But it isn't that simple. What if the language reads down from the upper left in group of two symbols, or four symbols. We do know powers of two are important to them. Their writing usually involves groups of symbols appearing in a sixteen by sixteen grid. Or sometimes a thirty-two by thirty-two grid. But that's all we do know."

"Oh." She leaned in and looked at the screen.

"We don't know if the symbols are letters like in english, or if they represent words. There is no sign of anything like periods or commas. Sometimes the symbols are different sizes but we don't know what that means either. Does a smaller symbol indicate the end of a sentence, or does it imply some quantity." He shrugged. "Useless to even try."

"Wow. So we're not going to be reading their language any time soon?"

"We won't ever be able to read their language." Ron told her.

"Never?"

He pointed at the screen again. "Add in the color of each symbol. Two hundred and fifty-six different shades. We don't know if that means anything either. Sixteen different sizes. The different ways in which the symbols can be read. Without more data it's impossible."

"But didn't you turn off their war machines? How could you do that without reading the language?"

"That was different. It like..." He struggled to explain. "Like a person looking at a line on a graph. They might not know what the graph means but they would be able to look at the line and see if it's increasing or decreasing, depending on some assumptions. When I messed with the controls for the war machines I first increased the rate at which they were destroying buildings. Now assume that person has buttons beside the graph. When pushed they change the line on the graph. That's basically all I did. I guessed which console controlled the war machines based on assuming killing would be central to their way of thinking. Then I guessed which buttons to push."

"Too bad. Would be nice to know how their star drive works."

"It would." Ron agreed. "And we might be able to figure it out. A machine it different from languages. They got to obey the basic laws of the universe. If their technology is close to ours we will be able to reverse-engineer it." He stared at the screen. "We don't even know if they use all of the symbols."

"Why wouldn't they use them all? It's their writing." Melissa puzzled.

"They wouldn't want an alien race to use their technology. Even if the language would be difficult to decipher they might have decided to make it more difficult by adding extra symbols. It would make the task a lot harder. You would need to filter out the extra symbols first." He stared at the screen and sighed.

Kim Possible wasn't happy. She paced the floor, wanting to scream. She was sick of staying in one place. Sure the Global Justice base was big. It had a place for her to work out, even go for a swim. The cafeteria was pretty good and the coffee Miranda made was superb. But she'd been here for over two weeks now. She wanted out. Heck, she would even take searching Killigan's golf course for Diablos again over this.

She paused and reached up to touch her throat, shuddering. Still she knew why she had to stay here. After that slash she couldn't remember much. The pain. Her throat had felt weird, her breathing had been strange. And her chest had began to ache. If the girl's hand had come even a bit closer... She shuddered again and resumed her pacing. That was another one she owed Shego. Not to mention Ron and Melissa.

"Hey Pri... Kim. How's life in a Global Justice base treating you?" Shego asked.

Kim jumped. She'd been so caught up in her thoughts she hadn't realized her former arch-enemy was there. "Okay." She admitted. "Want to spar a little?" She asked, hating that she sounded like she was begging.

"Sure. I'm supposed to go and get scolded by Dr. Betty Director. But I got time to wipe the floor with you."

Kim grinned. "The floor will get wiped all right."

"Yeah. I heard what you did to those Global Justice agents you were supposed to train."

"How was I supposed to know they would get scared like that? I only tossed them across the room a few times." Kim tried to look innocent. She really hadn't meant to take her frustration at being caged here out on those poor, newly hired, trainees like that. She hadn't been that rough with them.

"Two of them were supposed to help me with the Diablo search." Shego fumed at the redhead.

"Sorry. But if that made them quit, an hour working under you would have."

"No they wouldn't." Shego lit a fist. "I would have scared them into staying."

Kim thought for a second. "You know. I think those two should thank me."

"You're probably right on that." Shego admitted. Not that she was hard on her people. But what grown person wanted to get into arguments with a five year old over a doll. There was no way you could win. Those agent were lucky Princess had chased them away.

The two reached the gym and grinned. Sparring each other was fun. Other than Shego not using high level plasma they didn't have to hold back. Both were only vaguely aware of the people scattering around them. The floor was scarred where the former villainess' plasma had burned away paint during previous fights. She'd been scolded a few times for that.

Shego attacked first. Hoping to get in a first blow before Princess could react. She was too slow.

Kim saw the attack coming and dodged. She pivoted around her opponent and punched her, sending her flying across the floor. She charged.

The former villaniness rolled to her feet and threw some plasma at the feet at the redhead who was nearly upon her. It forced her back. She grinned and kept it up, trying to use it to corner her. Futile, but it kept her busy.

"You know." Kim said, dancing back from the plasma. "You keep that up and you will get scolded again." She jumped in for another attack, still evading the plasma.

"I'm already here to get scolded, Princess." Shego let the attack land, relying on her endurance to handle it. Instead she retaliated with a punch of her own. "Might as well make it a two-for-one."

Kim dodged the blow, but was forced back. "Got to be faster than that, Kermit." She replied. She grinned and rushed her friend with another attack. Not much had changed since the lairs. Except now the two sparred for fun, as friends.

"Hey Kimmie?" Shego asked, dodging to one side.

"What?" Kim tried to swerve to follow her dodging opponent?

"Mind having my baby?" The ex-villainess asked.

"Wha..." Kim froze as she realized what Shego had asked. She went flying as her opponent connected with a well placed blow to her stomach. She remained on the floor. "Not sure if you've realized this." She answered. "But I'm a girl, like you. So not sure how that would work."

Shego sat down beside the redhead. "It like this. My body kills all foreign invaders. Sure he sends his little soldiers in but it's like, bang bang, and they all fall down." She explained.

Kim blinked. "Oh. You can't have kids?"

"Right." Shego stared across the floor, not looking at the redhead.

"So... Hrm..."

"Not complicated. I can't carry the baby. If I were to get pregnant my body would kill the fetus. So someone takes an egg out of me, takes one of the Buffoon's sperm. Mixes them together and insert it in someone else."

"Why me?" Kim asked, sitting up beside the other woman.

"Has to be you. The fetus will have comet powers. It will be strong." Shego explained. "You're the only one whose body is strong enough to carry it."

"So I would have a plasma firing baby inside me?" Kim decided that didn't sound very pleasant. She swallowed.

"No. We don't think it would do that. It would be strong, that's pretty much a passive comet power, but firing plasma takes intent. It would be risky." Shego admitted. "We only think it wouldn't be able to use something like plasma."

"So." Kim said. "For all you know it could be like Mego, only instead of shrinking it might be able to grow larger. Like to maybe ten feet tall even as a fetus. It would..." She gulped at the image.

"For all we know." Shego told the redhead. "You think being trapped here is bad? To be safe you probably would have to stay in a hospital for the last three months. In bed. It would have a device to neutralize any comet powers the baby has"

"I would definitely go stir crazy." She shuddered at the thought of being in one place for three months. "No other way?" She asked.

"One. A series to surgeries to create a plastic envelope around my womb. Everything that entered it would be filtered to exclude white blood cells. Chances of the fetus surviving is around five percent. The odds might improve if the Buffoon keeps working on the device. It will never be more than ten to fifteen percent though."

"Oh." Kim stared across the floor. "I would have to talk to Mark first." She said. "And given the risk, I want to have children first. "Who knows, I might end up not being able to have children myself if things go wrong."

"You mean..." Shego blinked.

"I'm not saying yes." Kim told her. "I'm saying I will talk it over with Mark. I'm not sure how he would like me carrying someone else's child. Even if it's Ron's. And it won't be for a while. I'm twenty-one and I don't plan on having any kids until I'm twenty-six. Twenty-five at the earliest. So it won't be for another six or seven years."

"That's okay." And it was. She was ready to have a baby now. But she understood the redhead's reasoning. She wanted her own kids and going through with this might put her at risk. Might make her as incapable of carrying children as Shego herself was.

Kim sat thinking. She wondered if Mark would be okay with it. Their children, hers and Mark's, came first. But then... "How many are we talking about here?" She asked.

"I would give the world for just one." Shego admitted. "Though I've always dreamed of two." They'd thought convincing the redhead would be hard. Turns out they'd been wrong.

"Oh boy." Kim said, laying back on the floor.. "That's going to be fun. Carrying four kids. Two of them requiring three months of bed rest." She smiled up at the other woman.

"I'll be sure to keep a jar of pickles and peanut butter handy." Shego told her. "You know. Just in case you get an urge for something weird to eat."

"Ha ha." Kim said. She patted her belly. "On the bright side, the way my body heals there won't be any stretch marks."

"Lucky you." Shego laid down beside her. "What are you and Mark hoping for? Boys or girls?"

"One of each." Kim answered. "Mark wants a little Kimmie and I want a little Mark. How about you?"

"The same. Ron wants a girl, I want a boy."

The knife slid easily into the flesh of the one who was supposed to kill her and she let out a scream of despair. But the blood that came out was green. She blinked, puzzled. And she felt so numb. She fell to the ground, in the pool of green goo that had come out of ... She knew the blood of Kim Possible was red. Had seen it bubbling out of her throat. Trap, she thought to herself. And the numbness was familiar. She felt the something inside her scream in disbelief. In fear. Around her there were people panicking. Then, as she rejoiced, the darkness took her.

End of Chapter.

So that's how Shego and Ron can have a child. Poor Kimmie. Even if the story isn't KimxRon, she still ends up carrying his children. With three months of bed rest for each one. Ouch!

The device Ron modified was the synthodrones to look like Kim and act as a trap.