Green Silk, Black Satin

Chapter 3: The Prodigal Promise Society

Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible or any of the characters there within, they are property of Disney!

Two hours ago, Shego had leapt with catlike agility down the sweeping ramparts of Drakken's hillside lair, dropped onto the flight line, and ripped open a locker in the hangar. She yanked the skull cap over her head, tucked her voluptuous hair up, and donned her customized black and green flight helmet. She snatched a candy bar and stuffed it into her leg pouch. She paused only to consider the locket before tucking it away also and climbing into her XF-07 Manta jet.

The pre-flight check she often took great pains to observe went out the window as she started up the engines, whipped the fighter around, and opened the throttle. The plane screamed off the flight line and abruptly banked to the southeast toward the Florida Keys.

Shego wasted no time flying to Middleton, the rube who passed the locket to Possible wouldn't hang around once the goods were taken by the carrier. Whoever flagged down the cheerleader was just a minion sending along a message. A message Shego hoped never to receive. What she needed now was information.

The Manta touched down on a landing strip outside of the high class resort and charter club "The Bermuda Triangle,"—a favorite haunt of the most successful caliber of entrepreneurs, scientists and politicians; every one of them villains. She taxied to an open hangar and swung out of the cockpit before the grease monkeys swarming below could attach their ladder.

"Fill her up," Shego snapped, striding forward, "you have fifteen minutes or fifteen loose teeth. Got me?"

The flight service mechanics nodded in terror and set to work on Shego's plane without a word. Shego stalked the long way to the "royal" suites, the security posted outside would not let her enter in her jumpsuit and helmet, but she had no time to bother with them anyway. Swinging around the hotel section of the resort, the woman vaulted onto a rising exterior elevator car, popped open the trapdoor with one clawed finger and dropped into a group of shocked vacationers. She stabbed the button for the highest floor and folded her arms over her chest, glaring at the elegantly dressed occupants who gawked.

"What're you lookin' at?" she said. The visitors huddled in one corner of the car in silence, leaving the terrible elevator music to fill the silence. The modest group edged around Shego when they reached their floor and took off at a run down the hallway.

At last, Shego arrived at the top floor which opened directly into the Aquarius suite. Hangings of dried sea life and shells and windows of fish tanks filled with colorful tropical fish checkered the walls. A massive tank at the center held a large squid captive. A light fragrance of salty air permeated the rooms and dim blue lighting gave the feeling of actually being underwater.

A morbidly obese man sat on an array of pillows deeper into the vestibule. Shego made for him.

A square of black stepped into her path and she stopped short, frowning.

"Move it, Mike, he knows why I'm here," she said, making to pass on the huge bodyguard's left, but a thick arm swung out to block her. Beady black eyes that seldom blinked stared hard at the interloper, but a soft laugh from beyond drew their attention.

"She's right, I am expecting her." The obese man said.

The bodyguard gave her one last look of scrutiny before stepping aside. Shego strode to the table and stood rigidly before the information broker.

"Ok, Brotherson, where is—"

"Password?"

Shego deflated a bit before a look of incredulity passed over her face.

"Are you kidding me? Our families have been doing transactions for decades."

The man's expression darkened and he made to snap his fingers, a wall of muscle already appearing at Shego's back.

"Kandieren!" she shouted, elbowing the bodyguard back. "Back off, lummox."

Mike stepped back into the shadows and Shego cracked a stiff joint in her neck. Demanding the password from her. Unbelievable.

"Sit down," Big Daddy Brotherson gestured toward a pillow, but Shego crossed her arms.

"Where is he?"

"Who?" The man patted his bulbous belly with both hands. His simpering smile infuriated her. She reached down and fished out the locket to where it dangled from her fingers in plain view.

"Him?"

"I'm not sure what you mean." He innocently shrugged his heavy shoulders. Shego's hands flared green and Brotherson's easy pleasure became wary.

"I'm not sure you're taking me seriously," she hissed and Brotherson raised a placating hand.

"Very well," he sighed, dabbing his sweaty forehead with a kerchief, "you never did play by the rules."

"I'm shocked you would forget." She mimicked his intonations. The glow faded. Brotherson motioned Shego give him the trinket. She handed it to him and he studied it.

"I remember this piece. The locket was in Global Justice's possession until six months ago when their records reported it as stolen. The thief sold it to me a few days ago and it was recently purchased for a handsome sum by one of my best clients."

"Who?"

Brotherson began to smile that pompous smile again and Shego's hands ignited immediately. He swallowed.

"The brotherly sort."

Shego's mouth fell open.

"Marcus? He's in on this?" her eyes narrowed, gears turning.

"They go back further than you know," Brotherson murmured, handing the locket back to Shego who took it numbly. The obese man sat back on his pillows into a more comfortable position.

"Too far." Shego muttered. "Where is Marcus now?"

"Does he have a reason to leave the Fraterno Estate?" The man said in an off-hand way; suggestion without actually betraying his client was how Big Daddy conducted his best business. Shego's hand went up to rub at her eyes.

"He always could buy off his problems. I guess it's time I see just how far this train wreck goes." Shego made to leave but only got two steps out when Brotherson spoke again.

"Your father was here."

She stopped dead. She turned and saw a cruel little smile on those thin, pasty lips. They stared each other down in wordless exchange, each knowing precisely what the other meant and subsequently demanded.

"I wasn't." Shego tossed him the chocolate bar which Brotherson eagerly caught in one pudgy hand. He had quick reflexes for someone of his size. She walked down the hall. "Not a word, Daddy."

"All in the family, Shego. Always a pleasure to see your smiling faces." Brotherson chuckled behind her. Shego's expression turned ugly but she pressed on without looking back.

The hangar parking and gas fees were outrageous, but Shego knew better than to limit her refueling stations and paid out, grumbling as she swiped credit. To the mechanics and valet credit, they refueled, replaced worn tires and washed the cockpit canopy without any extra fees. The head valet nodded to Shego and she gave him a brief salute. They had a working understanding of each other; there were only so many villain-friendly flight lines in the world.

Time still pressed her and the threat of the man she was desperately trying to avoid hung over her like a pall as she flew out of The Bermuda Triangle. Hurtling along at nearly supersonic speed and her heading set to Go City's coordinates, her mind inevitably turned to home.


"You were the leader last time, Henry. It's my turn!"

Five siblings dressed in capes and masks chased each other around their backyard beneath the tree that held their "Top Secret Base" disguised as an ordinary tree house. The oldest, a muscular young teenager took care to dance out of his sister's grasping hands.

"No, it's my turn!" The younger boy pushed his older sister so that she fell. Dirt and grass stains marred the front of her light green dress. She sprang back up immediately and shoved him right back.

"Shut up, Melvin!" The boy went flying and crashed into the dirt.

"Sheila Go!" Henry chastised, picking up his sniffling younger brother and resetting the mask that had fallen around his mouth. "You know better than that. Say you're sorry."

The girl hugged her arms over herself and pouted, unapologetic.

"It's my turn!" she insisted as Henry patted a weepy Melvin's back.

"No it isn't. It's Tuesday. You get to play leader every other Wednesday and Melvin every other Friday. That's what we agreed on."

"Nah uh! I didn't agree." Sheila stuck her tongue out to Melvin when he did.

"Those are the rules." Henry said, head high and cape blowing in the wind. "And we will always follow the rules."

"Oh yeah? Well what if I don't follow the rules?" Sheila raised two clawed hands in the air and struck what she thought was her best evil pose. "What if I was a bad guy?"

Her brothers stared at her. Henry frowned.

"Don't be silly." The oldest sibling swept up one of the toddlers who waddled past and spun him over his head. "Besides, we have Doctor Weston and Professor Wesley, the most evil of evil super villain twins! Rarg! Oh no, he's got me!" Henry dramatically pretended to grow feeble as "Doctor Weston" laughed and clapped his hands. Henry fell carefully to the ground, still holding his giggling youngest brother aloft. "Save me, Melvin!"

The boy eagerly rushed to take the evil Doctor Weston to the "Top Secret Prison" and got to the first nailed two-by-four step when Henry stopped him.

"Whoa bro, let Sheila do that. I'll grab Professor Wesley before he can escape!" Henry chased the other twin across the yard as Sheila rolled her eyes and gathered up Weston to haul him into the tree house. Melvin, Henry and Wesley followed shortly after.

A shadow fell over the tree house.

In place of the sun, a brightly burning comet descended on the residents of Go City; its brilliant colors leaving a streak of color across the sky.

Henry had been talking about some boring strategy for the sibling's next hero mission when the children's tree house exploded.

Sheila awoke to the screams of her horrified mother. The blue skies confused her until she realized she was lying on her back; hot and cold tremors racking her body. The wooden splinters bloodying her arms and the sickly sweet smell of the smoking meteorite at the center of the wreckage. She reached up to rub the angry welt on her head only to see her hands glowing a sickly green.


Shego remembered that day vividly.

Henry, glowing blue, almost died that day. A large wood shard severed an artery and he nearly bled to death. He took the miracle of his survival as a sign of fate. A sign that he and his siblings were meant to be heroes. Melvin had sustained the most bodily damage; his doctors insisted his ability to grow and shrink was what saved him lasting mutilation. He was babied ever since. That never stopped her for making fun of how purple the radiation made him. The twins were barely scraped by the event. Turned out their "prison" kept them safe from the impact. Their power was the worst of all. They could multiply into the hundreds if they concentrated. As if two of them weren't enough.

But Sheila's power…

The Manta swooped around Go Tower and banked toward a lonely landing strip on the outskirts of the city a few miles in from the bay. A landing strip that had been built for a single person.

Images flooded her mind. Shego grunted and tensed as if she could force the memories away.

Hego rescuing a cat from a tree by "walking" the limbs to the ground. Melvin shrinking to unlock a bank vault from the inside.

Shego tossed her head as the jet descended, landing gear thrown out.

Stop it.

Weston and Wesley multiplying to fool a pair of novice thieves.

Flaps down, throttle back; the ground rushing up.

Stop it! Stop!

A little girl in a little green dress sobbing at the edge of a horse pasture.

"My powers can only do bad!"

The Manta jarred her back to the present as it slammed harder than she would have liked into the tarmac and roared down the runway. She brought her bird safely to a stop and its engines wound down with a whine. Her arms shook as she gripped the yoke and not because of the rough landing. Shego unbuckled and removed her helmet and cap, dumping them in the cockpit as she slipped out of the fighter and surveyed the decrepit, high-vaulted mansion over the field. The estate was exactly how she remembered it if fallen into a little disrepair.

Tufts of hardy weeds poked up through the runway, several shrubs elegantly lining the mansion were overgrown and needed trimming; the high glass windows had a thin but discernible layer of dirt visible. The place could use a landscaper's touch to restore it to its former glory.

And the place was glorious once. Memories of her days here flooded her mind.

Her first time at full gallop over that field. The impromptu races she bested her peers in. She and her classmates fighting to see Saturn during late night astronomy lessons in the observatory. Marcus clapping a hand over his eyes when Shego came in too low to land. Those trees near the start of the runway were still stumps.

The spot at the far end of the pasture where Marcus rode in on his piebald mare and found her that fateful day.

Shego set her jaw and moved over the acre of land toward the mansion. An enclosed pasture complete with stables, a corral, and a jumping course sprawled to her right. It was littered with weeds. A movement on the field caught her eye.

Most of the horses had fled in terror from the roar of the incoming jet, but one remained by the edge of the white fence neighing and bobbing its head.

Shego's lips parted.

"Bandit?"

The beautiful—if graying—black Arabian excitedly bucked as she approached, whipping his tail and spinning in circles until she reached one hand out to pat him. The stallion was having none of it and brusquely shoved his big head into her chest, snorting.

"Oof! Easy, boy!" Shego laughed as she scratched the horse behind the ears. One of Bandit's hind legs kicked with pleasure. "I can't believe you're still here."

Shego patted the stallion's neck and he nibbled at her bangs as he had all those years ago. Her breath caught at the endearment.

"I know, I know, but I don't have time." Shego ran her fingers over the horse's face and cheek before continuing toward the house. Bandit followed her along the fence line the entire way, commenting and making demands nonstop. "You big dolt." Shego muttered affectionately. She remembered the miles of trails they raced on without ever leaving the estate and she wondered if the stallion could still jump. Shego stole one last glance at the playing Arabian as he charged around, wild ebony mane flying. He had inspired her to grow her hair out as a little girl. Long and free.

Bandit's neighs followed her all the way to the mansion's impressive, carved, double oak doors. She clasped the handle and pushed. The entrance was unlocked. Dim chandeliers over a winged double staircase greeted her; the tick of a tall grandfather clock punctuated the silence. A grim temperament settled on her once more as she moved through the main foyer. Had she walked without the light tread of a ninja, her footsteps would have echoed through the dark, quiet rooms. She instinctively knew where the owner of the manor would be and made for the flickering of firelight at the end of the main hall.

Passing several offices, guest- and play-rooms, she finally stepped into the study. A library lined with full bookcases, maps, metal-work apparatuses, a large desk and pair of red leather high back chairs seated facing an expansive hearth, Shego had to force herself to push down the memories of the hundreds of hours she spent in this room. An iced beverage sat condensing on a petite coffee table beside the hearth chairs. Next to the glass sat a dish of fresh strawberries. Shego's face became stony. She spotted a pair of pajama-clad legs crossed at the ankle poking out from one of the red chairs.

"I see my investments returned excellent dividends." A deep voice filled the chamber. "Still current on your multi-engine rating? And they said a ten-year-old could not be trained."

Shego folded her arms.

The legs unfolded and a face leaned into view. Age showed in the lines of his face and the white streaks at his temples, but the man was still handsome and lean. A smile reached his shrewd hazel eyes as he set down the book he'd been reading and stood to greet her. Dressed in an Armani tailored suit or a red velvet robe as he did now, Marcus Fraterno always did look smart. He opened his arms.

"Sheila."

"Don't call me that." Shego glared at him. He inclined his head, clasping his hands behind his back.

"My apologies. You still go by…Shego then?" He smiled, but Shego did not return it. He continued unperturbed. "What a fine young woman you've become."

"Cut the small talk, Marcus, what do you want?"

Marcus chuckled, a rich sound.

"Right down to business. I believe that characteristic is what made you my best student." He stooped to collect his glass, sipping at its contents.

"What do you want?"

Marcus' easy smile faded a bit.

"If only I could say the same of your patience." He replaced his drink and squared up his shoulders. This was the all business businessman she remembered. Her mentor. "You're in danger."

"I'm a criminal. Tell me something I don't know." She rolled her eyes and stepped around him; snatching up a handful of strawberries and popping one into her mouth. Marcus' eyebrows raised a fraction.

"Global Justice is involved."

Shego stopped chewing.

"Okay, now you have my attention." She turned to face him.

"You've been…recruited to one of their larger top secret projects."

Shego's eyes narrowed. GJ had tried to recruit her on three occasions: Once as a ten-year-old not long after she and her brothers were struck by the comet; once at fourteen when she ran away from home; and the last when she was nearly through with her college degree.

"What are you saying?" she demanded. "I don't want anything to do with that man."

Marcus inhaled deeply, remorse etched in every line of his face.

"I have a confession to make. Your enrollment in the Prodigal Promise Society was deliberate; it served as a means to an end. I was pledged exorbitant financial profits to nurture and cultivate your latent talents to supplement an experimental project, which I now regret ever having endorsed."

"What project? What are you talking about?" Shego's hands balled into fists, strawberry juice dripping to stain the Persian carpet.

"I'm so sorry, Sheila," he said before he raised his arms and stepped back in horror. Shego spun around to the doorway and she started violently, shock buzzing in every fiber of her being.

"NO WAY!" Shego screamed

The individual leaning on the doorway grinned.

"The Master. At last we meet."


Author's Note: I love me a cliffhanger. Be prepared, there will be more of those.

And with that, Green Silk, Black Satin has finally seen it's next update after three years. I really have imitateslife to thank for encouraging me to pursue this project and her generous offer to beta the remainder of the project. Thank you my dear beta for editing this chapter in such quick fashion! I hope the revisions you see here suffice.

The plot begins chapter-and what a joy it was to write. I realize how much I've missed writing for Shego. She's smart and snarky and that's just an awesome combination. I hope it shows here. I apologize for bringing my own characters into this, I hate breaking a perfectly functional fandom like that, but in this case it is absolutely necessary and hopefully not too horrible a suspension of belief to read proper. I assure you, more of the KP cast will get their dues. It's gonna be a ride.

What can I say about being back on this 7-year-in-the-making fic? It feels great to come back to it and I feel like I can better tackle what I had planned; and still a bit daunted by its girth. But as I inevitably circle back to this every few years, I'm determined to knock it out once and for all. So yes, readers new and old, I WILL BE finally finishing this story. Join me and I'll spin you a yarn all right.

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