Kim Possible 1. Prologue

**Disclaimer; Kim Possible is Property of Disney. This is a work of fan fiction for fun, not profit. A tribute to a 'been-there-done-that' plot we all know and love. A simple story for these troubled times, by S3Cubed, aka Six-string Samurai. Let's get the show on the road.**

_A/N: AU__,__ as is my wont. No crossover this time, so don't worry about trying to spot where I might have been pulling things from._

"The Trace Without"

A Prologue

Rooting around in the fridge turned up a half empty carton of Chinese take-out, two glasses worth of orange juice that may or may not have been expired, and a suspicious pizza box that was probably better left undisturbed. Blowing out a sigh, Shego turned her back on the slim pickings, pushing the door shut with a heel as she tried her luck in the cabinets over by the microwave. It didn't take long for her to realize that the last time she'd stocked up had been almost two weeks ago, just before Drakken had dragged her half-way around the world, getting the both of them lost and nearly killed in some god forsaken jungle.

They'd been back in the city for the better part of a day now, and it had taken her half that time to get him out of her hair. Just thinking about his grating voice, harping on and on for the entire flight back, if she wasn't under contract with the blue dolt, Shego might have put him out of her misery. As it was, she'd been so distracted trying to tune out his whining that she'd completely forgotten to pick herself up something for dinner on the way back to her apartment.

At this rate, she was either going to have to order out for something, or make a trip down to the corner store a few blocks away. Her eyes went to the front door, and more specifically to the few clumps of melting snow that she'd tracked in. "Screw that," she muttered under her breath. It was damn cold out there right now, even for her. Maybe if she still had her car, but no, Drakken had offered to make a few modifications to it, the perks of working for a mad scientist and self-proclaimed 'Evil Genius.' That had been just before they'd left on the little jungle cruise.

She just chalked it up as another mental tick-mark against her employer. The tally was getting pretty high and she'd only been around the man for two and a half years of the prescribed four on her work contract. In hindsight, four years was a long time to be stuck with someone that continued to stomp on your last nerve on nearly a daily basis. In fact, the only real bright side was her salary, and the medical and dental coverage.

Running a hand through her hair, she plopped down on her leather couch, reaching for the TV remote with one hand and digging around her pockets for her cell with the other. Delivery it was. The flat screen mounted on the wall flicked on, and she scrolled through a few channels absently, waiting for something to catch her eye as she thumbed through the contact list in her phone looking for the number to the Vietnamese place up the street. _Hah_! Shego hit the call button and put in an order, a large bowl of Pho sounded like it would hit the spot, considering the crappy weather.

Forty minutes and a hot shower later, the verdant hued woman tossed the empty soup container into the trash. One of the things she liked about that particular take-out place was their expediency, even on days like today. She was hard pressed to remember the last time they'd delivered to her later than within half an hour. It didn't hurt that the prices on the menu were a steal either.

Clicking through the movie channels, she finally found something she hadn't seen a million times, one of those sappy dramas about a crazy love triangle that probably wasn't going to be solved without one of the leads dying in the end. Not really her thing, but it was nice to see other people having a crappier life than hers once in a while.

Just as she was starting to get into the movie, the door bell rang. _What the hell?_ Shego frowned, pressing the mute button on the TV remote. No one knew her well enough to stop by, and the few people she knew had no idea where she lived, which was just how she liked it. Not even her boss had her address. _I know I tipped the delivery guy, and it's been a good fifteen minutes since he left anyway._

Making no move to get up, she waited to see if she'd just been hearing things. She let almost twenty seconds pass before reaching to un-mute the set, when as the bell rang again, loudly in the silent apartment.

"It better not be the damn landlord," she slid to her feet, growing more irritated the more she thought about the skinny little prick that owned the building. If anything, that was one man who continually managed to get on her bad side more than her boss. But, he was also the only person that would have any reason in her mind to be making a house call in this damnable weather.

The doorbell rang once more just as she flipped the bolt on the lock, yanking the door open. "This better be an emergency, because I already paid the damn ren--," Shego swallowed the rest of the words on her lips as she got a look at the person standing on the snow covered front stoop. Anything else she might have said died before the thoughts finished, and Shego took a faltering step backwards into her apartment as a dozen denials clawed at her mind. Green eyes that she'd almost forgotten locked on her own, as the shorter girl in front of her let herself in, following after the backward retreating Shego until the taller woman bumped into the couch and tripped.

With the gaze broken, Shego felt herself able to try and grasp the situation again, and she used the impromptu tumble to roll over to the other side of the couch and back onto her feet, keeping the piece of furniture between them. With the couch acting as a buffer, the green skinned woman found her mouth working again, "Alright, what the fuck are you trying to pull," she spat, anger overriding her confusion. "She's dead. I watched her get put in the ground myself! What kind of sick game are you playing at?"

Shego's knuckles paled even further as she gripped the back of the couch, digging into the leather cushion. She waited, the breath sticking in her chest, waiting for the redheaded phantasm in front of her eyes to break her silence. This whole situation was impossible. There were no ghosts, no second chances. Even if it was her, some things just couldn't be overcome. There was no coming back from that place, not even for Kim Possible.

The doppelganger's lips parted…


	2. Resonance

**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 One – Resonance

_Six Months Ago_

"Shego! Shego," like the cries of a baby for its mother, the voice of former megalomaniac Drew Lipsky rang through the recently cramped spaces within the research lab. The blue-skinned scientist barged through the doors of the lab, eyes narrowing in frustration. "Shego! There's something on the news," he shouted into the obviously empty room. "Now, where is that woman, how come she's never around when the important things are happening," he muttered under his breath, stalking back out of the lab to look for his wayward assistant elsewhere.

The woman in question was currently enjoying a self-imposed break from her employer's often irritating presence by soaking up a little warm mid-morning sun. When the summer began in earnest, she'd set up herself a little beach chair next to the large bay window that overlooked the glittering blue waters below the cliffs on which her boss had set up his lab, and little home-away-from-home. At the moment, she was sprawled out face down on the chair, thumbing through the latest issue of _Person_ magazine that she'd snagged off of the table in Drakken's kitchenette. The blue man had a running subscription, claiming it was reference material, and she availed herself from time to time to catch up on the whole celebrity thing, which never failed to amuse her.

Shego rolled her eyes at a few of the articles, wondering not for the first time just how lame a lot of these famous people were. Who dangles their baby outside a high rise window anyway? She tossed the magazine onto the little folding table she'd picked up last week, and was reaching for her Margarita when she heard him. _Ugh, what is it this time?_

Shego wondered if she pretended to be asleep, if it would be enough to make him go away. Or at least, tone it down a little. But, rushed footsteps and an out of breath Drakken not three feet away put the kibosh on that idea. _The hell with it._ She rolled over and sat up, pushing her sunglasses down to stare over the top of the lenses at her flustered boss.

"S-shego, what have I told you about the dress code," the pony-tailed scientist was pointedly staring at anything but his pale-hued employee.

Feeling a bit of amusement at his antics, even if he was interrupting her chill time, Shego made a show of checking herself out. The black bikini bearing a swirled green pattern was actually pretty conservative in her opinion, god knows she'd worn less last year when they'd been jetting around western Europe looking for some old guy's dried up bones. "Yeah, yeah, uniform while on the clock. I didn't forget."

"Then what are you doing," Drew vaguely waved a gloved hand in her direction, studiously avoiding her with his eyes.

Just because she knew it irritated him, she purposely stretched her back and made a grab for her drink. Taking a sip, she clicked her tongue. Maybe she'd go a little easier on the Grand Marnier next time; it was a bit too sweet. "Doc, casual Friday. Remember?"

"Casual Friday, no I don't remember specifying that," the scientist worked his face into a scowl as he wracked his considerable brains, utilizing mental faculties that were considerably useless outside of his chosen profession, and naturally came up with a blank. But all that deep searching did have the side effect of recalling that he'd been sidetracked in the first place. "No, no, that's not it at all Shego! Wrap a towel around yourself or something, you need to see what they're going on about in the news."

Now this gave the black haired woman room for pause. Since when was the doc ever big on news that didn't involve himself in some way? And what could possibly be so important that he thought she would be likewise interested. This more than piqued her curiosity, and she got up from the beach chair, the salt-lined glass held nonchalantly in one hand. "This better be good."

"Shego! Towel," Drakken whined when it became clear that his assistant wasn't planning to cover herself up.

"Oh, stop being such a prude, you big baby," she made no move to reach for the beach towel that was hanging over the back of the chair, and swept past her boss, drink in hand and headed toward the main living area where Drakken had most likely been watching the Television.

The blue man grumbled something about not having any respect, and hurried to catch up to the scantily clad woman, trying not to stare at how her long legs seemed to stretch up and up and, oh, she was turning around. Drew quickly shifted his eyes to somewhere less dangerous, like his feet.

Shego wasn't sure how long she stood there nearly in front of the television screen, trying to comprehend what the news caster was attempting to convey to her in what was obviously an unknown foreign tongue. "What kind of joke is this crap," she swung her arm back to gesture toward Drakken for answers, sending a splash of her cocktail in an arc that hit her boss and part of his favorite lounge chair beside him. Her eyes never left the news ticker that scrolled across the bottom of the screen, failing to belie the ridiculous claim the news anchor was making.

The words in cold stark white, scrolled past a second time, confirming that world renowned altruist and adventurer, Kimberly Possible, was reported dead at 1 PM EST; the cause of her death, still under investigation.

"This is a bunch of bullshit. Drakken, how long has this been going on?"

The scientist fidgeted, twiddling his fingers under the heat of her glare. "Maybe, fifteen minutes," he hazarded. "I was looking all over for you the moment I found out. I thought you of all people might want to know."

"Damn right I would want to know! Now, we need to get more information on this. There's no way that's all the info the press is releasing. Something's going on and I want to know what it is. Damn it, Kimmie owes me, and she damn well can't pay me back like this." Shego spun away from the image on the screen, hair whirling across her back. "I'm gonna go get changed, and we're going to get to the bottom of this," as she stepped away, she paused, pointing at Drakken with her now empty margarita glass. "Make sure you set the TiVO to record this, just in case something else turns up." With that, the green skinned woman padded angrily out of the room.

Drakken just stared at the empty space she'd just occupied, frowning at the gray TiVO box under the TV set. Picking up the remote from his chair, he stabbed at the buttons, trying to recall just how he was supposed to set the blasted thing to _record_. Eventually a menu popped up on the screen, prompting him if he would like to record or just tune to a specific channel now. _But, wasn't it already on the channel?_ Drakken clicked the button, watching the news channel on the menu turn red. _Hah, there was a reason I'm called a genius, and it wasn't for nothing._

Ten minutes later and he was all but being hauled out to Shego's car by the collar of his coat. "Come on D, it's a long drive to Middleton and I want to hit the road before we get caught in the rush hour traffic."

"I still don't see why I have to come along, she's your," he paused when a pair of emerald eyes narrowed at him.

"She's my, what?"

"Um, problem," the scientist ventured, and felt his shoulders relax as the grip on his collar fell away.

"Grr, whatever. Do what you want; I'm heading there to find out what this whole farce is about," the green skinned woman hopped in the driver's side door and slammed it after herself.

Drakken shuffled his feet, in the middle of making a decision when Shego rolled down the window.

"I'm taking the rest of the weekend off, so don't wait up or anything."

"But, tomorrow's Poker night down at the club," he protested, trying to sound assertive, but failing.

Shego didn't even bother dignifying his stupid remark with a reply, and the window rolled back up as she put the car in reverse and backed out of the garage.

"Shego! You'll be back on Monday ready to get to work, right," Drakken shouted after the retreating car, and the dust cloud that piled up in its wake.

"Damn that Possible woman. Didn't she realize how bad her timing was? I can't very well win tomorrow if half my team is missing," the scientist trudged back inside, determined to at least get some work done analyzing the pieces of Amaranth Shego had managed to obtain for him when they were travelling through Sweden.


	3. Dukkha part 1

**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.


	4. Dukkha part 2

**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.


	5. That we Left Behind (1 of 2)

**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 Three – That We Left Behind (part 1 of 2)

"Here is good, pull over," the redhead intoned, still insistent, but missing something unidentifiable in her voice. At least, that was how it sounded to Shego, who was in the driver's seat. It was her own car after all, and she wasn't about to let a ghost from the not so recent past put a dent in it. She'd seen the redhead driving, and it left room to be desired.

"Here," the noirette asked, arching a brow even as she guided the vehicle over to the shoulder. They were outside the city, and out on a service road, as per the Kimposter's guidance. "Now what? You're actually going to explain what the hell is going on, because that would be fucking swell," Shego ground out, putting the car in park and letting it idle on the side of the road.

The weather hadn't improved any, and it was beginning to snow again, much to Shego's mounting displeasure. If that was the word for the twisted heavy feeling in her gut. So far, her passenger hadn't said more that the bare minimum to guide them to this particular spot. Aside from the virtually empty lanes coming and going, and the fact that she could see most of the city laid out below the small rise the car was on, there was nothing special about it.

"There, just watch," the redhead, still bundled up in a slightly oversized gray hoodie, said, pointing out the windshield. It was still light enough out that the sky was visible beyond the glass, though the faint snowfall was going to get worse before it got better.

"What am I looking for, exactly? I can't see jack with all that crap drifting around," Shego turned on the wipers to clear the view, though it mostly just smeared melting flakes across where she was supposed to be watching.

"It's about to happen," the redhead stated, head turned toward whatever she was expecting.

"Just tell me already," Shego's impatience was cut into pieces as far above the skyline a small orange blossom burst into being for a brief moment, before drifting downward, dying out with much the same feeling of detachment. "The hell is that," the pale woman found herself transfixed, understanding just what it was she was witnessing even as her mind struggled to come to terms. A muffled crack, almost but not quite like thunder, reached the car as the glow faded from the clouds.

"There was an explosion in the fuel tank, it was due for retrofitting, but the maintenance was pushed back a month due to the high traffic season," Kim's voice sounded flat even in the small interior of the car.

"I don't understand, what," Shego stumbled over her own thoughts, trying to make some sense of what she was hearing, all the while, blinking away the phantom fireball that floating in front of her eyes.

"There were no survivors, and casualties all over the city, from the debris. Parts of the engine landed near a school, but did only property damage. The fuselage, some of it landed outside city limits, but a large piece hit your neighborhood, smashed into four houses."

"How do you know," Shego found herself gripping the steering column with enough force to make her hands ache.

"It crushed your house too, Shego," the redhead said with a certainty that would not be denied. At this, she finally turned from the lights beyond the passenger window, and the small flares that were springing up down at ground level.

"How the hell do you know," the comet-powered woman grit out, letting go of the wheel and reaching elsewhere. Her shaking hands found purchase on the shoulders of a girl she thought gone from this world. But, she found only solid reality beneath her palms. One that met the wild look in her eyes with only a semblance of expression, and perhaps, something approaching sadness.

"You were supposed to die," the almost weary voice said from Kim Possible's lips. "But, I was sent to stop that from happening. So, I did."

"You were sent to stop...oh god. All those people, why didn't you just stop that from happening," the noirette hung her head. It was all too much to try and digest in one fell swoop. "One person isn't worth all that. You, you should know that. You're supposed to be the hero, damn it! What did you bother coming back for," Shego spat, hanging her head.

This wasn't Kimmie, this was just some sick joke. The feeling in her gut tightened, and she blanched, distantly wondering if the Vietnamese she'd eaten was about to decorate her upholstery. All those people...


End file.
