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Revelations of Destiny	By : Kellendros Category: Kim Possible > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 63461 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 79
- 80
   “So, do you wanna stay down here, or do you wanna go up to your suite?” Kim asked Ron as Shego left the room.

   “Hmmm…” scratching the back of his head as he considered, Ron eventually replied; “Yeah, might as well head upstairs too; I assume you’re going to be getting up at some ungodly hour tomorrow morning, as usual, right?”
   “Seven in the morning is not ‘some ungodly hour’, Ron.” Kim responded dryly.
   “It is to me and almost everyone else our age, Kimbo—at least on weekends.” Ron grinned as he teased his feisty redheaded friend while heading for the exit himself.
   “Only lazy slackers…” Kim grumbled to herself defensively, though it seemed more rote response than anything else, as she fell in alongside Ron amiably enough.
   As they followed along in Shego’s footsteps—at least, until they reached the top of the stairs—the two teenagers talked mostly about Ron’s recent experiences at cooking school and living in Paris. Then, after settling in once they reached the blond’s suite, their conversation continued on in the same vein for roughly a half-hour or so before Ron finally addressed the elephant in the room.
   “Soooo… you and Shego, eh? What’s up with that?”
   “What do you mean?” Kim replied, one cinnamon eyebrow rising with the question.
   “Oh come on, Kim! I know you like to say you can do anything, but how th’ heck did you end up spending the summer with Shego of all people?”
   Kim sighed and, with very little hesitation or preamble, given she’d been practicing dozens of different variations of this conversation both in her head and out loud over the last few weeks, launched into the story of how she and Shego had gotten together, leaving out almost nothing and making sure Ron knew—really knew—that it would be a bad idea of the very worst kind to let Shego know he knew some of the more… awkward, details of that account.
   “And that’s all there is to it, Ron; you pretty much know all the rest. On the way back from our trip to Florida, I finally decided to take Shego up on her not-as-crazy-as-it-first-sounded offer to spend the summer here with her, and the two of us have been trying to work out whatever it is we’ve got between us ever since.”
   “Yeah, ok,” Ron shook his head, “even setting aside all the wrongsick involved with that—because hey, let’s face it, the two of you aren’t exactly what you’d call ‘normal’ anyway, so why should this be any different—there’s still the fact that this is Shego we’re talking about. A woman who, as I mentioned when I got here this morning, is way older, criminaler, and used to punch and kick you and mean it! So again, aside from the obvious, what could you possibly see in her? I just don’t get it…”
   Kim gave a soft sigh and answered; “Well, first of all, Shego is not ‘way’ older than me, Ron. She’s only twenty-four, so with my birthday coming up soon, that’s just seven years, which is, like, almost nothing when you think about it; really no big at all. As for the rest…” Kim sighed again, “well, you’re not wrong about it, but that’s not everything Shego is, Ron, just like running around stopping people like her is only a part of who I am.”
   “Now yeah, I’ll be first to admit that’s an awfully big hurdle to overcome—hell, so will Shego—but that doesn’t mean we can’t, because like I said, we’re both more than just that. Shego is… well, she’s still Shego, and there’s no changing that, but she’s also surprisingly fun, outgoing, warm, supportive, caring… even when she’s being her usual self, what she says, how she says it? It isn’t really important; what matters is what she does…”
   As she spoke, Kim’s thoughts flitted back to a moment that had occurred a little over a week after moving in with Shego, following her return from the first mission that had allowed her to visit with her friends and family in Middleton afterwards…
   “So, what’s wrong with you, Adventure Girl?” Shego asked after coming up alongside the downstairs living room couch and watching the redhead seated upon it for a long moment—despite Kim’s attempts to hide it, it was plain to the older woman that the teenager was out of sorts. “Things not go well while you were home?”
   “Hmmh, what?” With a little shake of her head, Kim looked up distractedly from where she was ostensibly watching television, and then answered; “No, nothing’s wrong; everything’s fine at home and I had a great visit.”
   Shego knew that even with the near ridiculous amount of activity currently crammed into the redhead’s eventful life (what with everything they were doing to get her “cultural studies” out of the way, their ongoing training regime, nights out on the town or staying in at home, and all on top of her continued efforts of a more heroic nature), unlike most teenagers, that wasn’t nearly enough to distract Kim from her above-average connection to friends and family—in short, even with all of that going on, she still missed them. Even so, she seemed sincerely content on that front right now, so that meant it had to be something else. Shego could tell that the usually feisty, yet currently furtive, redhead was hiding something from her; she was sure of it.
   “Well, I know something’s up, so you might as well just spill, Pumpkin.”
   Looking at Shego and her knowing gaze for a long moment, Kim eventually vented a little sigh and sullenly replied; “My stomach’s not feeling well…”
One sable eyebrow rose high, and a sly smile crossed equally dark lips as Shego posited; “Lemme guess; you and your little friends went out to Bueno Nacho while you were home, didn’t you?”
   Kim sighed again and nodded.
   “Well, that’s what you get when you load up on processed, fat-fried, fast food crap after a week of eating healthy, well-balanced home cooking, Princess.” Shego paused for an instant, then added; “Karma for you going off your diet plan like you promised you wouldn’t do, too…”
   Kim could hear the smug smirk in Shego’s voice as the pale beauty turned and headed for the kitchen, but all it did was add to her general sense of malaise. A few minutes later, Shego returned with a tall glass of amber liquid in hand, tiny bubbles rising from where they clung to the inner surface as she took a seat next to the unhappy redhead.
   “Here, drink this.” Shego ordered softly, holding the glass out to Kim.
   “What is it?” Kim asked warily, taking the extended glass before staring down into its clear, dark golden contents with curious green eyes.
   “Just drink it; it’ll help you feel better.” Shego grumbled back gently.
   “Mmph… stale ginger ale?” Kim immediately queried after taking an initial sip of the sweet, not-so-fizzy liquid—though she continued to drink it down despite the apparent objection.
   “No, flat ginger ale,” Shego stated matter-of-factly, as if it made a difference. “Last thing you need is more gas…”
   Finishing off the glass without any further commentary or question, Kim leaned forward and set the empty vessel on the gleaming, transparent surface of the coffee table with a soft clink of glass on glass. Then she sat back and tried her level best to distract herself from her gurgling, queasy guts with relaxation and random entertainment, all while Shego continued to maintain her presence alongside her.
   Sooner than later, without even really thinking about it, Kim found herself curled up on the couch with her head in the older woman’s lap and half covered by a light afghan, all while Shego idly stroked the silky strands of her dark red hair with a warm, gentle hand and faint, indulgent smile, fingertips and blunt nails scratching at Kim’s scalp in a pleasant distraction even as, much to the teenager’s surprise, the ginger ale seemed to do its work, slowly but surely making her feel less and less like wishing she could reach inside her tummy and rip out her treasonous intestinal tract. In fact, by the time suppertime rolled around, several hours later, the redhead had recovered to the point where she thought she might actually feel like eating something, which was good, because that was the exact thing Shego addressed when she noticed Kim was stirring.
   “Feeling better, Pumpkin?”
   “Yeah, I think so.” Kim answered as she reluctantly sat up; she might have mostly recovered, but that didn’t mean she necessarily wanted to abandon the warm comfort of her position either.
   “Well good, because it’s about time to start supper now.” Shego responded as she stood up and headed for the kitchen, clearly intent on doing just that.
   With a yawn and a stretch, Kim got to her feet and trailed along behind Shego, slowly but surely recovering more and more of her usual, lively demeanor as she went—and all while a small, deeply content part of herself quietly filed away how the other woman had remained with her for the last few hours, offering silent support and comfort without even being asked…
   Kim returned to the present with a gentle little shake of her head, immediately continuing on with her thoughts after the momentary pause.
   “And we have so much in common too—I mean, aside from all the fighting and training and spycraft and stuff. We have the same sense of fashion, we like plenty of the same foods, we enjoy doing a lot of the same things when we go out, we like a bunch of the same music and movies and books and TV shows, and we even have similar tastes in art!”
   “What, you like art now, too?” Ron asked in a wry, incredulous tone.
   “Yeeeah; I’ve always liked art.” Kim replied with a warm, indulgent smile and a slight shake of her head. “Anyway, my point is, there’s a lot more to Shego than we thought, Ron—a lot more.”
   Once again, Kim’s words sent her mind racing back to another time when she’d been returning home from a mission, only to discover something wholly unexpected about the woman she was living with…
   “Ugh; I’m never going to be able to look at groundhogs the same way again…”
   Kim’s quiet mutter failed to carry very far as she pulled off her more-or-less ruined shoes one by one, though the hollow, echoing clatter of her dropping the tear-and-puncture-riddled footwear onto the mat by the front door certainly did.
   Heading down the main hall at an initially brisk pace, the redhead slowed as she navigated the lush, fern-filled central planters between her and the twin staircases at the far end of the spacious hallway, hearing the distinct sound of music coming from the archway that lead to the kitchen and living room. Coming to a full stop at the foot of the stairs, Kim considered for a moment and then changed direction; aside from her, Shego was the only one that used the villa’s sound system like that, and she was feeling a little hungry, too, so she might as well go say “hi” now and get something to eat at the same time—plus there was something else, too. Something… odd, about what she was hearing that she couldn’t quite place, but still had her subconsciously wanting to investigate.
   Padding through the archway on silent stocking feet, Kim headed down the side hall only to find that the music was indeed coming from the kitchen, as she’d already half suspected from the sound of it. It also had an… unusually upbeat tempo about it, with jazzy little saxophone riffs and a particularly crisp, clear female vocalist singing in a decidedly chipper fashion. Even as Kim took note of those things, however, the song wound down and ended, leaving her in relative silence for a few steps before it was replaced by a light rock tune with a far more intense, driving beat to it. By the time she reached the doorway, the same singer from the last song had already launched into this new one—and, much to her surprise, given the nature of the lyrics, so had Shego.
“Here I'm standing in the night… my Crescent Wand, the only li-ight… Alone against my darkest fear, but I sense my friends are near. I'll draw from each the power I need; the evil Queen we will defeat!”
   Torn between affectionate amusement and equal amazement, Kim simply stood in the open doorway, unable to resist as she silently watched Shego singing along with the sound system in perfect harmony, all while bouncing and swaying back-and-forth in short little slide-steps in front of the counter where she was working—but that wasn’t all. As the song continued, the pale, presently unawares beauty began to sing “into” the wooden spoon she held, all while sweeping her left arm out to the side or drawing it up in front of herself at appropriate moments, fingers curling or cast out in emphasis to whatever she was singing.
   “Give me the strength to carry on… With all our love we can't go wrong! Only together we face the fi-ight… nothing can stand against our might!”
   As a short, driving electric guitar and peppy, synthesized xylophone solo began, Shego had just enough time to execute a few swaying, full-fledged dance steps that ended with her turned around and mostly facing her surreptitious spectator.
   “Give me the strength to carry-yyaaaahh!”
Shego’s voice rose to a caterwaul screech as she all but jumped out of her skin upon opening her eyes with the next verse, only to find the wholly unexpected sight of Kim Possible standing there before her, framed by the open doorway and watching Shego’s suddenly-beyond-embarrassing antics with a soft, slightly amused smile; one that perfectly matched the sparkling warmth dancing in her fern-green eyes.
   “What the hell are you doing, trying to give me a fucking heart attack?” Shego bellowed out defensively the instant she recovered from her reflexive full-body jerk, cheeks coloring a far darker shade of green as a hot, furious blush spread across them.
   Kim’s smile grew uncontrollably as she immediately answered; “Sorry; you seemed to be enjoying yourself, so I didn’t want to interrupt.”
   “Well you should have knocked or something!” Shego responded only slightly less irately. “Christ, it was bad enough before, but now I’ve gotta worry about you sneaking up on me in my own damn house too?”
   “Hey, you’re the one who invited me here, remember?” Kim shot back in a calm, easygoing tone—though with a slight, pointed cocking of her head and faint raising of one cinnamon eyebrow as well. A moment later, she shifted gears as she curiously inquired; “So what was that, anyway?”
   “Never you mind that…” Shego grumbled as she swiftly stepped over to the nearby intercom control panel and cleared her play-list from it—but not before Kim managed to catch a partial glimpse of the last song title; —or Moon Soundtrack - Carry On. Then, in a somewhat calmer, more composed fashion, the older woman patently, if not necessarily clumsily, changed the subject by heading back to the counter while stating more than asking; “So I suppose you’ll be wanting something to eat now that you’re back…”
   “Sure.” Kim grinned broadly at the gruff, retreating woman’s back; over the last few weeks, Shego had proven to be not only full of surprising little things like this, but also just so darn cute at times, too—well, in her own grumpy, entirely Shego sort of way, at least…
   The fleeting trip down memory lane left Kim with a warm, curling grin once more, her voice carefree and affectionate as she attempted to sum up everything she was trying to say; “Shego’s just… special… and aside from the one super obvious thing, the two of us are a really good fit. She’s kinda like… oh, I don’t know… like a big sister, I guess…?” With a slight, peculiar smile and far-off look coming over her pretty features, the redheaded teenager licked her lips and, more to herself than Ron, absentmindedly ambled on; “A really, really hot big sister who can go all night long if she wants too…”
   “Whoa, whoa, whoa! TMI! TMI! Waaaayyyy TMI!”
   Instinctively latching onto “Monique speak” as his already strained psyche suddenly snapped like a brittle twig, Ron winced, dropped his gaze to the floor beside him, and screwed his eyes tightly shut while whipping both hands up above his bowed head, insistently and repeatedly flashing Kim the “time out” sign.
   “Oh. Ahhh, yeah; sorry about that.” Kim had the good graces to show a faint trace of a blush, at least.
   “Anyway,” Ron shook his head dismissively as he responded a few moments later, after having more or less recovered his wits, “aside from the magnitude, I suppose this really isn’t much different than you and Mankey, or you and what’s-her-name, and I sure as heck didn’t get either of them, either, so… whatever. That being said, what I do know, however, is that my brain is really starting to hurt trying to wrap it around all this, so how’s’about we talk about something else now, hmmm?”
   Kim had to bite her tongue in order to keep from admonishing Ron over his “what’s-her-name” crack, but given the situation, she knew that berating her longtime friend would hardly be conducive to getting him to see her relationship with Shego in a more favorable light. No, diplomacy was clearly her best course of action here, so with that in mind, she merely let it pass and moved on to discussing other things with him, just like he asked, without any further mention of Shego—or Corscan—for the rest of the evening.
   --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
   “C’mon, Ron! It’s time to get up already! We’re just about to get breakfast started here!”
   “M’glarhlh?”
   “Oh for the love ‘a… outta the way, Kimmie… Yo, Stoppable! If you wanna eat anytime soon, you need to haul your ass outta bed and get down here NOW!”
   “Mhn? Wha? I’m up! I’m up!”
   At the sound of Shego’s strident ultimatum, Ron immediately bolted upright from what had been, mere moments before, a relatively sound sleep despite the recent, repetitive attempts Kim had made to wake him from it—perhaps it was survival instincts. No matter the cause, the wild-eyed teen looked around in frantic alarm until he realized his pale tormentor was nowhere to be seen. A few seconds later, Ron’s eyes settled on the intercom panel next to his bedroom door, and he flopped back onto the bed with a loud, frustrated groan. Apparently everything that happened yesterday hadn’t been a dream after all…
   On the nightstand next to the grumbling blond, Rufus yawned, gave a mighty stretch, and then hopped out of the nest he’d made from a tissue box and its soft contents. After looking around for a moment, the bright-eyed rodent nattered something that sounded remarkably like “breakfast,” and then jumped down to the floor before scampering out the door, presumably on his way downstairs. Behind him, still lying on the bed and staring up at the ceiling high above, Ron groaned once more and then forced himself upright, giving in to the inevitable. Step by laborious step, the lethargic teenager continued the process of getting up out of bed, and then shambled over to the intercom in a notably bleary, listless fashion.
   “Yeah, yeah; I’m coming, I’m coming—jeez!” Ron shot back loudly after taking a few seconds to figure out which touch-button he needed to stab in order to reply.
   The aggravated blond was halfway out the door when, in an equally irritated shout, Shego responded; “And don’t forget to put on some damn pants, either!”
   Venting yet another long, drawn-out sound of frustration, Ron turned around and headed back into the bedroom—as much as he was loath to admit, Shego did have a point; all he had on at the moment were the boxer shorts he’d slept in.
   Grabbing some long shorts and a light, loose t-shirt, Ron made a quick side-trip to the bathroom and then, after cleaning himself up and getting dressed, hastily made his way downstairs and to the kitchen just in the nick of time.
   “Humph. Looks like I owe you that back-rub, Princess…” Shego grumbled in mostly mock irritation at the teenager’s arrival.
   “I told you not to bet against Ron’s appetite, Shego…”
   To say that Kim’s singsong reply from the dining room was smug would have been just a bit of an understatement.
   “Hey!” Ron’s sharp, squawking response to the none-too-flattering statement was blustering outrage through-and-through.
   “What, like you don’t keep up with little Miss Eats-Like-a-Horse here?” Shego’s dry rejoinder came from over her shoulder as she glanced back at the griping blond.
   “Hey!” now it was Kim’s turn for outrage as she joined the others in the kitchen right on the heels of Shego’s comeback.
   “Oh ‘hey’ yourself…” Shego chided gruffly, her grumbling tone at odds with the gentle smile gracing her dark lips.
   “So, what is for breakfast, anyway?” Ron, ever mercurial, inquired curiously as he made his way over to the counter next to Shego.
   “Sausage, bacon, waffles, and brown egg omelets with peppers, onions and mushrooms.” Shego responded while gesturing to various large, covered serving plates in turn, each presumably holding the dishes she was noting. Then, clearly as an afterthought, she added; “And I made sure to keep everything separate from the bacon, so it’s all still kosher.”
   Ron blinked once, and then, in a voice equal parts surprise, appreciation, and contrition, replied; “Ahhh, thanks, really, but no need; my family’s Reform, not Orthodox.”
   “Alright then; good to know…” Shego answered matter-of-factly while sliding two plates, and an arched eyebrow, in Kim’s direction.
   “Hey, don’t look at me; I didn’t know what you were doing…” Kim said as she took the plates and headed back into the dining room, while at the same time, Ron jauntily answered; “Yep; couldn’t have pizza or nacos otherwise.”
   “Really? Why not?” Shego gave Ron a look of mild, but genuine, curiosity and surprise at that announcement, all while sliding the other two plates over to him.
   “Yep; you eat no meat with dairy if you’re following kashrut—especially if you’re Orthodox.” Ron replied while automatically scooping up the plates with an unusually practiced ease before following along after Kim.
   “Hmh; didn’t know that. Oh well, live and learn…”
   Shego sent the idle comment trailing after Ron while she picked up a serving tray and went over to the refrigerator. Opening the door, she retrieved a stainless steel pitcher of milk, a rectangular crystal orange juice container, a small bottle of syrup, a jar of strawberry jam, and a blue-flowered ceramic margarine dish, setting each item on her tray one by one before shutting the door once more and heading into the dining room herself. Once there, she added her heavily laden tray to the now uncovered spread the two teenagers had already laid out in the middle of the table, and then sat down to join them.
“Well, let’s dig in then…” Shego announced while doing just that, putting an omelet on her plate with some shiny serving tongs.
   “All right!” Ron cheered as he followed suit, while Rufus echoed his sentiments from where he’d been waiting patiently at the table next to his owner’s seat all this time.
   Yet again, spurred on by some idle commentary over the food, Ron and Shego found themselves drawn into conversation with one another without really noticing it, with the subject matter quickly drifting in a somewhat surreal fashion from cooking and food in general, to a discussion of the particulars of keeping kosher when following more orthodox Jewish tradition. This time, Kim was actually able to participate as well, but for the most part, she didn’t have much to say, and just like last night, she really didn’t want to risk breaking her friend and girlfriend out of their interaction by giving them a chance to notice what they were doing—though she was fairly surprised with Ron, given he’d never really had much to say about Jewish tradition before. Even so, she mostly held her peace and just sat eating and listening quietly. Eventually, though, the conversation wound down to a suddenly uneasy silence as the food ran out and the two realized what they’d been doing, just like the previous evening.
   “So ahhh… what’s the usual early, early… early Sunday morning agenda around here, anyway?” Ron asked a bit self-consciously as he helped Kim and Shego clear the dishes from the table.
   “Well, usually I drop Kimmie off at church and then—”
   “Wait, what?” Ron interrupted sharply, his follow-up questions going first to Kim and then to Shego. “You’re over a thousand miles away from your parents, on another continent, and you’re still going to church? And you go with her?”
   “No I don’t go to church!” came Shego’s immediate, cynically condescending retort. “Probably burst into flames like a fucking vampire or something as soon as I walked in the front door…”
   At the same time, in a mildly chastising tone, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, Kim answered; “I don’t go to church because I have to, Ron; I go because I want to”
   “OK, OK, my bad; no need to get touchy.” Ron quickly apologized, though to who wasn’t entirely clear. “Do carry on…”
   “Anyway, like I was saying,” Shego eventually—and curtly—continued, “I drop Kimmie off at church and then I go do a little shopping, stop for a latté and read the morning paper, take a walk or something to kill a little more time, and then I pick her up and we go to the salon before having an early lunch… or brunch… or whatever.”
   “Sounds like a plan, then,” came Ron’s chipper response as he handed the older woman the last of the dishes to be loaded into the dishwasher. “I should be good to go in about twenty, twenty-five minutes tops.”
   Kim and Shego both exchanged looks and then directed those put-off expressions towards Ron.
   “Whhaaat?” Ron whined under the pressure of those twin wry female stares.
   “You are aware that when I say ‘salon’, I mean beauty salon, right, Sidekick?” Shego answered dryly, while in a notably more gentle tone, Kim added; “We usually go in for mani-pedis, facials, and maybe to get our hair touched up every once in a while.”
   “Yeah, I know, I know; I’m down with that.” At the immediate reemergence of the two women’s distinctly female expressions, Ron gruffly griped; “What? A guy’s not allowed to care about how he looks or something?”
   “Yeah, OK, whatever; let’s just get this show on the road already.” Long used to dealing with Drakken’s foibles, this little bit of oddness honestly wasn’t that big of a stretch for Shego.
   “Well, OK then…” Kim answered tentatively. “I guess I’ll go get ready too…”
   “Alright!” Ron cheered as he joined his friend in her exit.
   “Just remember that this bus is leaving in a half-hour, so unless you feel like walking, make sure your ass is out front on time!” Shego shouted after the pair, though to which one—or both—was left up in the air.
   A few minutes later, Ron was back in his suite’s bathroom getting washed up and changed once more—though really, it wasn’t much of a change, since he was only putting on a different pair of shorts and adding yet another of his seemingly endless supply of Hawaiian shirts to the t-shirt he already had on. Still, it did make him look somewhat more presentable for going out, if also screaming “obvious tourist” to anyone who might see him.
   “Good, all set and on time then…” Ron confidently stated to his reflection in the bathroom mirror. “So, we’ll head into town, drop off Kim, do a little window shopping, and then get something to eat and hang out with Shego for a while—” Ron shook his head right on the heels of that last statement, promptly adding; “I can’t believe I just said that…”
   Still shaking his head in disbelief, Ron quickly put his toothbrush and other toiletries away, bent over and pulled on his comfortable, well-worn leather sandals one by one, did each of them up, and then rose to his feet once more.
   “Alright, let’s head out, Little Buddy.” the still somewhat bemused teenager said to Rufus after taking one last look in the mirror.
   After responding with an emphatic nod of agreement, Rufus took a scampering leap off the counter, effortlessly caught on to the big pouch-pocket on the right-hand side of Ron’s shorts with his claws, and then quickly crawled inside, his curling pink tail the last thing to be seen before he disappeared from view.
   Heading downstairs, Ron found his estimate of being “on time” to be just a little off, as only Kim was there waiting for him impatiently, with the front door open and a quick admonishment that Shego had already gone out to get the car a few minutes ago—and that she really was likely to leave the both of them behind, girlfriend or not.
   Rushing outside, the duo piled into Shego’s black and green Impala right at the last second—at least, theoretically, if Shego’s grumbling was to be believed.
   A short while later, Kim was headed into a small, well-kept, stone-walled church that was likely ten times older than the combined ages of both her and the pair still left in the car behind her. Once the redhead vanished through the heavy wooden doors of the timeworn cathedral, Shego pulled away from the curb and proceeded to a parking area located a short distance away from the more commercial part of town—the fact that shops were even open on a Sunday stood as further testament to Sperlonga’s tourist town nature.
   Getting out of the car, the older woman looked over to Ron as she indicated a section of streets somewhat in front and to the right of them while saying; “The galleria is over there, more or less; that one plus a few side streets. Only about a third of the shops are open this time of day though. If you follow it all the way down you’ll eventually come to the bistro I get my espresso and paper at; you can’t miss it, though you might get turned around and lost on the way if you take the side streets. Other than that, you’re on your own, Sidekick—though I suggest you meet me either there or back here in an hour or so if you don’t want a long walk ahead of you.”
   “Yeah, I got it; will do.” Ron answered in a surprisingly upbeat, nonchalant tone—honestly, he’d been hearing versions of that same threat from both his parents and Kim’s father since before he was a teenager… though admittedly, Shego was probably the first person who might actually drive off without him at the appointed time.
   As Shego headed off with a purposeful stride in her step after making sure the car was locked up tight and the alarm was on, Ron trailed along behind her at much more sedate, unconcerned pace. Looking from shop to shop as he went, both to see what was open and what they offered, he eventually lost sight of her, but that didn’t particularly bother him—well, aside from a bit of subliminal “losing track of Shego is a bad thing” instinct developed from his adventures with Kim, anyway.
   After roughly forty–five minutes of wandering around the galleria, Ron was running out of things to do, as Shego’s estimate of only a third or so of the shops being open had proven correct—and because once you’d seen one tourist-oriented shop full of souvenirs and “local” crafts and artwork, you’d pretty much seen them all… well, at least if you couldn’t buy anything bigger than what would fit in an average suitcase, that is. Even so, Ron had managed to pick up a few things here and there—mostly local food products and some unusual fresh herbs and spices he’d found—but now, as the café Shego had mentioned earlier loomed on the horizon at the end of the street, so to speak, the teenager realized he was just killing time instead of actually shopping anymore.
   With a deep sigh of inevitability, the blond turned and gestured to Rufus while saying; “C’mon, Little Buddy, I guess it’s time to bite the bullet and get this over with…”
   “Un-huh, un-huh; O-K!” the hairless rodent chattered back with an emphatic nod, hopping from the countertop to Ron’s extended arm and then scampering up to his usual perch atop his owner’s shoulder with effortless agility.
   Leaving the shop, a more-or-less determined Ron made a beeline for the café, and even managed to not slow down as, upon getting closer, he spotted Shego sitting at one of the exterior tables, apparently engrossed in reading the paper she held spread open before her. It took a little more effort on his part to sit down at that same table when he arrive a few moments later, however, but still, sit he did.
   “Hey…” Ron made the casual acknowledgement as Shego looked over at him while he pulled out the other chair at her table and settled into it, to which, in a neutral tone, she responded; “Sidekick.”
   As she returned her attention to her paper, the older woman couldn’t help the additional distracted and somewhat cynically relieved thought; well, at least he didn’t get lost…
   Ordering a quickly delivered coffee cake and cinnamon mocha latte (that was more cinnamon and chocolate than coffee) for both himself and Rufus, Ron decided the best course of action was to enjoy his order in silence rather than trying to engage the clearly paper-focused woman in conversation—not that he particularly wanted to talk with the pale, villainous beauty anyway… well, outside of the usual urges stemming from his chatty, gregarious nature at any rate. Even so, quiet was the order of the day that the blond determined and, with the timely assistance of a cookbook he’d picked up from one of the shops he’d checked out on his way here, maintained for what was, for him, an extraordinary amount of time.
   “Hmh; y’know, this isn’t half-bad.” Ron’s offhand comment came entirely out of the blue roughly ten minutes later.
   “Wha’d’ya mean?” Shego inquired, mostly in idle curiosity, as she looked up and over from her newspaper.
   “You; me; just hanging out here and chillaxin’ with no alarms going off, SHOC-staff wielding henchmen running around taking potshots at everything, or green flaming-claws-of-death all over the place.”
   “Yeah, I suppose it is kinda nice…” Shego paused for swift three-count, then gruffly deadpanned; “I don’t like it.”
   “Me nether.” Ron immediately agreed in nearly the same tone of voice, returning his attention to his book even as Shego went back to her paper, leaving Rufus looking back and forth between the two of them in bemused curiosity.
   A few minutes after that, an alarm went off on Shego’s watch, prompting the older woman to fold up her newspaper and set it aside before checking the time while she switched off the persistent beeping.
   “Time to go, Sidekick.” Shego intoned as she gathered up her purse and other things before rising from her seat.
   “Got it.” Ron replied, already slipping his new cookbook into one of the shopping bags at his feet while grabbing them all and standing up as well—but not before Rufus had a chance to hop up to his semi-usual spot perched on one of the blond’s shoulders.
   Falling in alongside Shego as she headed out, Ron paced the pale beauty all the way back to the car in relative silence. It wasn’t until they were underway to pick up Kim once more that the blond finally reverted to his more usual nature, mainly as he noticed that a fair amount of the pedestrians now crowding the streets, presumably after leaving the various churches scattered throughout the town, were smiling and waving, nodding, or otherwise giving friendly acknowledgement to the older woman sitting behind the wheel.
   “So ahhh, you seem kinda… popular, around here, eh?” Ron asked with a not-so-subtle hint of questioning disbelief in his voice.
   With a quick glare in the rearview mirror, Shego all but growled back; “And that’s so hard to believe, why?”
   “I think you just answered your own question, there, Shego.” came Ron’s flip response, to which, after a second, more obvious glare from the dark-haired villain, he quickly added; “By which I mean, from what I’ve seen over the years, I wouuuldn’t exactly call you a… people person, if you know what I mean—no insult intended.”
   “You ever stop to think that might have more to do with my being on the job, dealing with a boss who has all the emotional maturity of your average six-year-old, his wacked-out, overly complicated, crackpot schemes, and the constant interference of a pair of meddling teenage do-gooders than anything else?” Shego shot back with a scowl.
   “Well, yeah, I guess…” Ron cautiously conceded with a bit of clearly reluctant contrition.
   “Besides,” Shego huffed, “even if it wasn’t, this isn’t just some hick town I’m passing through on my way to somewhere else; it’s where I hang my hat when I’m off the clock, you get it?”
   “Oh yeah, I get it; never toilet where you food, right?” came Ron’s immediate, insightful response.
   Shego blinked twice, not so much from never having heard the parable phrased quite like that before, but rather more because of the way the blond had so quickly grasped the heart of her inference and the underlying wisdom behind it. With a quick little shake of her head, she snapped out of her dumbfounded state a moment later and answered in a far less irate, more sober tone.
   “Exactly. Unless you’re an idiot, you take a page out of Robin Hood’s book and you don’t make waves wherever you call home. Last thing I need is every Tom, Dick, and Harry wanting to rat me out to whichever authorities are the flavor of the month, let alone thinking they can take me down for the reward on their own, so I make nice with the locals. A little charity, a little patronage, a little… ‘problem solving’, if you know what I mean, and the community starts looking at you as a member and asset they want to keep, instead of an outsider and liability they want to get rid of.”
   Ron nodded sagely in the back seat, but somewhere in the back of his head, a little part of him sensed that maybe, just maybe, something about the pale woman’s cold, clinical recital of strategy was… off. Something in her tone of voice didn’t seem to quite… ring true, to his ears. Unfortunately, before he could really examine that perception any further, he was distracted by the sight of Kim waving to them as they pulled up to where she stood waiting on the narrow sidewalk, just across the street and a little ways down from the church they’d left her at. By the time his friend got into the car and started talking, it had slipped his mind almost entirely.
   “So, how did the two of you make out while I was gone?”
   “Fairly well, all things considered.” Shego responded nonchalantly as she pulled away from the curb. Then her black lips curled in a teasing, lopsided smirk that matched her shifting tone perfectly. “He’s still in one piece, so is the galleria, and I’m surprisingly uninterested in changing any of that.”
   “Heyyyy!” Ron grumbled from the back seat, only to pause, his brow furrowing quizzically and one eyebrow rising as his voice became genuinely bemused and questioning. “I think… maybe.”
   Shego actually gave a little snort and chuckle at that, and after a moment, Kim laughed as well.
   A short while later, the trio pulled into yet another parking lot and proceeded to the usual salon Kim and Shego visited—though not without some serious, silent hesitation on Shego’s part; she hardly wanted to hear the words “banned for life” from the staff of her favorite local beauty shop, so going someplace else seemed like a good idea to her, aside from the inevitable questioning she was sure would arise from Kim. In the end, however, she found herself going along with everything in spite of that silent struggle, only to have the worst of her fears thankfully proven wrong, partially due to the salon girls finding Ron’s affable, outgoing (if somewhat quirky) attitude towards themselves and the services they offered to be charmingly amusing, but mostly stemming from, yet again, the tourist town nature of the coastal town. A man in a beauty salon was, while still a bit unusual, hardly scandalous anymore—especially on the still-lingering heels of the “metrosexual” fad that had swept over the world not so many years ago. Thus, aside from a few hiccups here and there, the main result of Ron’s presence was an uptick in giggling, whispered comments and the exchange of furtive, mischievous glances between the staff.
   After that, the very coiffed, polished group left for the nearest bistro offering a brunch or early lunch menu, and, once found, settled in for what was, by dint of their having eaten a hearty breakfast only a few hours ago, a fairly reasonable second meal of the day—though it was still just a bit excessive, thanks to the bottomless pit that was a certain naked mole rat’s appetite for all things cheesy. Then, once the last bite was downed and the last glass drained, Shego paid the bill and everyone rose and set out for her black and green Impala once more, walking and talking with a leisurely air that lasted all the way through the trip back to her villa.
   Pulling into the garage once they were back, Shego turned off the engine and then, as everyone was gathering up their things before getting out of the car, stated as much as asked; “So, this afternoon we’ve got to pull the engine from the Judge, tear it down, check everything over once we have, and then, maybe, put it all back together again before we’re done for the day—depending on how it goes, what we find, and how much time we have left after we’re done, anyway. You in, Sidekick…?”
   In the front seat, Kim gave a swift little sigh, shake of her head, and roll of her eyes as she straightened up from retrieving her purse from where it had lain on the floor beside her sandaled feet, suddenly reminded of both yesterday’s frustrations working on her car and the frustrations likely yet to come this afternoon, while in the back seat, Ron wisely kept silent on the first thought that immediately sprang to mind.
   Why in the heck would you get your nails done if you knew you were going to be working on a car just a few hours later? Oi, girls; I’ll never understand them…
   Eventually, while he waited for Kim and Shego to exit the vehicle so he could clamber out behind his redheaded friend, the blond replied; “Ahhh… yeah, no, I don’t think so, Tim. I got enough ‘Tool Time’ with you two yesterday, so I think I’ll pass. Maybe take advantage of your ‘Lifestyles of the Rich and Villainous’ crib here; chill out, go for a swim, look around a bit; something like that…”
   “All right then,” Shego drawled back, her tone and expression shifting to stern and serious as she raised her right index finger and continued, “but just remember; you break it, you bought it—and around here, even with that Naco money of yours, that could mean a long, long time paying me back, you got it?”
   Ron paused on his way out of the garage, indignantly responding; “Hey! I am not a walking disaster area, alright?”
   “Oh really?” Shego gave a wry smirk. “Because I think we both know a certain big blue boob who would refute that statement, now don’t we?”
   “Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Ron shook his head and grumbled in disgust, once more heading out of the garage. “Fine, I got it; I’ll be careful…”
   “You do that.” Shego answered, though her voice was pitched low enough that only Kim could hear—a fact that the redhead appreciated; she knew the only reason the pale woman was resisting her natural urge to egg her friend on was because she’d asked her to.
   Following Ron into the house, the two women quickly changed into their work clothes and returned to the garage, leaving the blond to his own devices, wherever he might have gone off to. Several long, grueling, dirt, grime, and sweat-filled hours later, Shego was using her powers to restore her hands to their previous, immaculate state while Kim carefully tightened bolts on the engine block using a digital-gauge torque wrench.
   “So, you really think this thing’ll start now?” the fairly dirty redhead asked as she worked.
   “I don’t know; why should it start?” Shego replied with a hint of demanding authority in her voice.
   “We cleaned out and checked the block, crankshaft, camshaft, connecting rods, pistons, and the crazy amount of clamps, rings and pins that held it all in place, and they were all fine. We cleared out all the crap in the intakes and replaced the air valves that were rusted out, checked the timing chain, alternator, and the rest of the stuff up front, replaced allllllll those gaskets that were on, like, everything, and tomorrow, we’re putting in all new plugs, connector hoses, belts, oil and air filters, and distributor assembly… oh, and we cleaned and rebuilt that tiny little complex carburetor thing, too.” Kim replied studiously while continuing to work, though admittedly, the teenager’s voice held a certain amount of unconcealed frustration and resentment right at the end of her response.
   “And?” There was just as much raised, inquisitive eyebrow in Shego’s tone as there was on her face.
   “Annnnd there shouldn’t be any reason left for it not to start now?” Kim paused in her work as she looked back to the older woman while voicing the hesitant half statement, half question—the strangest part was that there was a slight, but definitely noticeable, hint of enthusiasm in the redhead’s hopeful response.
   “Right in one, Pumpkin,” Shego smiled warmly. “It might have taken all afternoon—which, by the way, is ridiculously fast for this kind of thing, there, Little Miss I Can Do Anything—but you got the job done pretty well… with a little help from me, anyway. So, unless something really weird happens, by this time tomorrow, there is no earthly reason why this engine shouldn’t be rumbling away happily once it’s back inside that car.”
   “Spankin’.” Kim actually had a small grin of her own as she went back to tightening bolts on the engine.
   With a little, amused shake of her head, Shego continued smiling as she finished cleaning up the worst of the grime clinging to her, and then asked; “So you ok here?”
   “Yep.” Kim replied in a cheerfully positive tone while continuing her work. “Got the manual, got all these little buckets of bolts, and I got all three wrenches checked twice and set right…”
   “Alright then, I’m headed inside to get supper started…” Shego paused, turning back to Kim for a moment instead of leaving. “And don’t you stay out here all night putting that thing back together, either; we’ve got all day tomorrow for that.”
   “Oh don’t worry,” Kim snorted softly at the pale woman’s chastising, her lips curling in a wry, depreciative grin, “just because I’m on a roll here doesn’t mean I actually like doing this!”
   Snorting herself, Shego shook her head and left the garage to the stubborn, spirited redhead as she turned and headed outside. A couple of minutes later, as she was casually striding down the main hall of the villa, she suddenly came up short, her beautiful features contorting in a puzzled, suspicious look. Something was… off; she could just sense it. At first, it was only that strange feeling that something wasn’t right that had her slowly moving towards the archway leading to the living room and kitchen instead of continuing on to the stairs, but as she picked up speed while getting closer, the little subconscious things she must have been picking up on started becoming more evident to her. Faint, somewhat familiar sounds and smells; a bit of absentminded humming; it all had her making a beeline for her kitchen.
   Swiftly rounding the archway to the kitchen, Shego came up short once more, this time in complete shock over the sight that greeted her. Everywhere she looked, the cupboards were open and the countertops were littered with various containers of spices and herbs, foodstuffs, and other cooking supplies, along with dozens of used mixing bowls, measuring cups and spoons, mixers, blenders, knives, cutting boards, and countless additional utensils, all too numerous and sundry to count. It was as if a tornado had blown through the normally neat and tidy room—and there, just squatting down in front of an oven with a bubbling, boiling pot on every last burner was the likely source of the messy mayhem; Ron Stoppable!
   Wide-eyed, Shego stood shocked and gaping in the archway for several long, drawn out seconds. Then her eyes narrowed near to slits, her black lips and pretty features twisted in a fierce snarl of silent, seething rage, and her fingers curled into claws, all while a nimbus of undulating lime-green energy sprang up around them. A moment later, the pale incarnation of fury was swiftly stalking towards the distracted teenager on silent, stocking feet.
   Oblivious to his impending doom, Ron happily hummed away to himself while he opened the oven door and released a rolling blast of heat. As Shego closed in, right arm rising above her head and tensing for the strike, the blond pulled the top oven rack out halfway and took the covers off two medium sized roasting pans. Then, just as the pale woman was poised to attack, her face and body suddenly went slack, and she just stood there blinking for several long moments while the most amazing smell wafted out around her, capturing every last bit of her attention.
   With the brief delay it took for Shego to come back to herself after her unexpected state of olfactory enchantment, the distracted woman was also able to make a second, somewhat less… homicidal, assessment of her surroundings, which in turn allowed her to come to the realization that she wasn’t looking at the messy mayhem left in the wake of a typical self-absorbed, slovenly teenager, but rather the controlled chaos of a skilled chef at work. Slowly, her arm lowered and her power dissipated, so that by the time Ron finally noticed her, it simply looked like she was standing behind him and nothing more.
   “Oh, hey, Shego; didn’t see ya’ there… Hey, would you mind passing me that bowl of glaze with the brush in it there?”
   “Ahhh, yeah… sure.” Shego gave her head a little shake as she complied with the blond’s request, still not quite all there yet.
   “Thanks.” Ron answered as he took the bowl from Shego and went to work on what appeared to be several small fowl inside the roasting pans.
   “No problem…” Shego mumbled, mostly by rote. Then, after giving her head a final, far more vigorous shake in order to clear the surreal cobwebs out of it once and for all, she spoke with a far clearer, more inquisitive, and, given what had almost happened, incongruously singsong tone of voice, querying; “So, whhhhaaaat are ya’ doin’?”
   “Well, I looked around a bit and took that swim like I said, but after that, I didn’t really feel like sitting around the pool or going in to watch some TV, so I wasn’t really sure what to do next…” Ron paused as he pulled the top oven rack out so he could get at the pans in back, “then I got to thinking that you and Kim probably weren’t coming in any time soon, the same as yesterday, so I figured since I wasn’t doing anything anyway, I might as well get something going for supper myself, and… well, here we are.”
   Ron grinned as he finished glazing the last of the fowl. Then, with a reaching stretch, he set the bowl up on the edge of the counter and then carefully pushed the oven rack back into the stove before closing the door. Rising to his feet, he turned towards the counter and then paused, shifting his head at an angle to take in Shego.
   “So, can I take it that you two are finally done out there?”
   “More or less, yeah. Kimmie’s still got a few things to finish up with, but she should be in shortly. Can’t see it being much more than a half-hour, forty-five minutes or so until we’re cleaned up and good to go.”
   “Alright then, that’s a bit longer than I figured, but not by much, so it’s no big.” Ron paused again, his brow furrowing and head cocking as he stared up at the ceiling while doing some rough estimation. “Yeah, everything should come out OK even if I have to keep it warm for a little longer than I planned.”
   “Well, I guess I’ll just leave you to it, then.” Shego answered in a dry, slightly surreal, disbelieving tone, still not quite altogether accepting of what was going on, despite the evidence spread out all around her.
   “No probs; I got everything under control here…” Ron casually tossed off over his shoulder as Shego turned and headed out of the kitchen, clearly not paying much attention to her departure as he returned to his cooking concerns.
   A little over a half-hour later, more or less in accordance with Shego’s estimate, both she and Kim had cleaned up, changed out of their dirty work clothes, and returned downstairs to set the table just in time for supper.
   “Alright, ladies,” Ron announced in a loud, enthusiastic voice as he hovered over several serving trays occupying one side of the table, right across from where he was going to be sitting, “tonight we’ve got…” Ron lifted the cover off the largest tray and moved it aside with a broad sweep of his arm, revealing the six tasty-looking, orange-glazed fowl beneath it, “game hen a l’orange a la Stoppable!”
   Ron’s tone turned sheepish as, while setting the lid aside, he added; “Mainly… because I couldn’t find any duck in your freezer, Shego.”
   “Yeah, we used the last duck about a week ago.” Shego idly responded, once more enthralled by the scents rising from the uncovered birds.
   “It was pretty neat being able to go out and get some oranges right off the tree, though; can’t get much fresher than that.” Ron grinned as he moved on to the next dish, revealing well over a dozen large, golden-brown, well-stuffed mushroom caps. “Anyway, here we have three-cheese vegetable stuffed mushroom caps, with my own special blend of ingredients that help draw out the moisture so they don’t come out too mushy or watery.”
   “Moving on, there’s oven-baked spiced baby potatoes and individual turnip puff casserole cups,” this time, Ron uncovered a smaller, deeper tray filled with tiny golden-brown whole potatoes encrusted with spices and herbs, with a faint sheen of olive oil adding to their temptingly tasty looks, followed by a flat serving sheet on which rested three medium-sized, shallow glass bowls, the crispy, golden-yellow contents of which looked far more appetizing than any normal turnip mush.
   “Aaaand last but not least,” Ron grinned broadly with his final presentation of an even dozen modest-sized tarts, each one a small mound of glistening, glaze-covered strawberries contained in a thick, flaky, perfectly browned pastry shell, “glazed strawberry tarts with a thick whipped cream center.”
   Shego had to literally bite her tongue to keep from squealing like a schoolgirl over the enticing dessert—she refused to grant the sidekick the adulation—but even so, she couldn’t help the more than a little girlishly-toned question; “Aw, how did you know?”
   Ron smirked.
   “Well, it wasn’t exactly rocket science, what with the tub of fresh strawberries in the fridge… and all the different strawberry jams… and the strawberry sundaes in the freezer… and the fifty-six other strawberry based things I found while going through everything in order to figure out what to make for supper…”
   “Oh yeah, right…” Shego blushed faintly and looked away.
   “Anyway, if you two’ll pass your plates on down, we can get this show on the road, alright?”
   “Sure thing; it all looks great, Ron,” Kim answered, while Shego collected herself, passing her plate over to the blond while bluntly stating; “Load me up, Sidekick; I’m starving.”
   “Not a problem; made plenty for everyone!” Ron grinned enthusiastically as he took Shego’s plate.
   A few minutes later, and after several appreciative exclamations of initial enjoyment from the two women at the table, Shego was happily crunching away at the knee joint of a drumstick with a faint smile on her black-stained lips; the bird was cooked to perfection, with the meat just sliding off the bone along with the easily separated, if notably tougher, connective cartilage between leg and thigh. Of course, the muted sounds of cracking and gnawing did not go unnoticed by the chef, whom, after the few short moments it took for him to figure out what was going on, immediately assumed an expression of equal parts shock, confusion, and disgust.
   “Whhhhaaaat are you doing?” Ron demanded in a sharp, decidedly reproachful tone.
   Shego cut her eyes to Ron and, with a glare, grunted out a muffled, aggravated exclamation that nonetheless clearly communicated “ ‘the hell’s your problem?” to the questioning blond, while at the same time, from the other end of the table, Kim giggled and, with an amused, indulgent smile, answered Ron’s question for the irked woman.
   “Shego likes the crunchy bits, Ron; she does that with turkey and spareribs and even those chunky, boney things they put in the center of the pork balls you get with Chinese takeout, too.”
   Ron’s screwed up face didn’t exactly relax as he sharply stated; “Aw man, that’s just wrong!”
   “Oh, and this coming from the guy who invented the Naco, eh?” Shego shot back after having finally swallowing her mouthful of crunchy cartilage goodness.
   “Heyyyy! Don’t knock the Naco, sister!” Ron squawked defensively at the older woman’s dry rebuff.
   “The greasy, artery-clogging problems of a pound-and-a-half of processed cheese, refried beans and utility grade beef aside, you put dozens of pointy, sharp-edged cornflower death-shards into a soft-shelled taco.” Shego responded pointedly.
   “Yeah, because the salsa forms a zesty counterpoint to the meaty-bean-goodness of the taco filling, while the crunchiness of the corn chips does the same for the otherwise soft, chewy texture you get with a soft shelled taco! It’s the perfect flavor-sensation combination!” Ron emphatically stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
   Shego simply arched an eyebrow and continued to stare at the blond, steady, dry, and pointedly.
   “Wait, what…?” It took Ron a few moments to figure it out, but as much as he might have wished otherwise, his inborn talent for analytical strategy was working just fine right now, allowing him realize he’d just argued himself into validating Shego’s position, such as it was. Venting an aggravated sound of frustration, the blond continued in an accusatory whine; “Heyyyy, no fair using tricksy female girl-think on me! Kim never does that!” After a short pause, the teenager half muttered; “Well, almost never, anyway…”
   “Yeah, well, you asked for it, Naco Boy; villains don’t fight fair.”
   Shego grinned wickedly before using her fork to very purposefully, deliberately pull another knee joint loose from her fowl, popping it into her mouth and crunching away on the meaty cartilage chunk while continuing to stare evenly at the frustrated teenager with her dark, impishly gleaming green eyes.
   “Yeah, I’ll say…” Ron grumbled in disgust, knowing that he was beaten.
   From there, the time passed with a little more small talk, but mostly just enjoyment of the food, along with the occasional happy, contented moan, hum, or purr from a delighted female throat, until, finally, a little over a half-hour later, everyone had finally had their fill and then some.
   “Well, as much as it pains me to say it,” Shego announced after a contented sigh at her last swallow of strawberry tart, “I’m woman enough to admit that you are a much better chef than I am, Sidekick—maybe not a better cook, but definitely a better chef. That was a pretty amazing meal for something you just threw together on the spur of the moment.” Shego turned her more-than-content gaze to Kim as, in a lazy drawl, she added; “I think I’m starting to see why you keep him around…”
   “Thanks!” Ron’s expression shifted from genuinely pleased to warily hesitant as he raised an eyebrow slightly while adding; “I think…”
   Kim just grinned from the other end of the table. She had no idea what the difference was with the provisional in Shego’s compliment, but she also really didn’t care; Ron seemed to understand it, and that was good enough for her… No, the only thing that mattered was that things just seemed to be getting better and better between Shego and Ron—maybe not beyond her wildest dreams, but definitely head and shoulders above the various doomsday scenarios this weekend could have turned into, given the at times volatile nature of both her best friend and her girlfriend, that was for sure.
   “Anyway, Iiii cooked it, so I guess the cleaning goes to you, ladies.” Ron announced in a smooth, matter of fact drawl a few moments later, as he continued to laze back in his seat.
   “Now see, norrrrmally I’d tell you that’s not how it works around here, Sport; maybe even flash you some of the green,” Shego responded while standing up, “but after a meal like that, I’m inclined to cut you some slack, so if you just want to sit there on your ass while the rest of us clean up, well, you just go riiiight on ahead with that…”
   Ron managed to last all the way up until Shego and Kim made it into the kitchen, with their dirty dishes and silverware in hand, before he shot to his feet, gathering up whatever he could reach from in front of him while quietly muttering to Rufus where the naked mole rat sat watching on the table next to him.
   “Women! How do they do that?”
   All Rufus could offer in return was a puzzled, open-armed shrug of his shoulders and an equally mystified; “I’unno?”
   Sighing, Ron shook his head and grudgingly went back to work.
   A short while later, with everyone helping, everything was either stacked in the sink, soaking, piled into the dishwasher and being cleaned, put into a Tupperware container and refrigerated, or thrown out in the garbage, as was applicable.
   “So, what are we up for tonight, then?” Ron asked as everyone was standing around afterwards.
   “Well ah, actually, Shego and I were thinking of spending the night in; watching some TV or something like that…”
   “That’s cool; I’m always down for a little TV marathon whether it’s morning, noon, or night.” Ron grinned happily.
   “Oh, ahhh… well, it’s just that... that’s not exactly what I was… I mean we were thinking—”
   Kim rambled on with an anxious hesitation that was somewhat out of character for her, before Shego bluntly hammered over the faltering teenage.
   “She means alone, dumbass! We’ve spent almost every waking moment with you for the last two days now, Sidekick; we need some time to ourselves!”
   “Oh… ahhh… right; gotcha!” Ron stammered back, blushing slightly as he finally caught on. “Well, no problems here, then; Rufus and I are more than capable of flying solo.”
   Wouldn’t that mean you were a duo instead of solo, nimrod? a still grumpy Shego thought to herself with a mental scowl, though she did keep the aggravated comment in her head at least.
   “Thanks, Ron; I knew you’d understand.” Kim smiled with happy relief—it was only partially a lie after all; hoping was close enough to knowing, she figured.
   “No problem; now I can try out that sweet home theater system and all those specialty channels up in my room!”
   No one in the room, not even Ron himself, was thinking that he was referring to anything other than wresting, sci-fi, action, and horror networks, as opposed to the… other, channels Shego had available in her home.
   “All right then. I guess we’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast, Sidekick.” Shego accepted graciously as she felt her short-lived irritation fading away.
   “Can do!” Ron stated as the trio started filing out of the kitchen to make their way upstairs.
   A not-so-short while later, “Lone Wolf McRon” had finished trawling through Shego’s extensive selection of satellite TV, including her block of more “adult-oriented” specialty channels—save those ones for later—and had more or less come up with a plan of attack for his evening’s fare. Then, just as he was settling in to get started, the blond suddenly realized he was missing something.
“Awww man!” Ron griped in frustration. “I should have thought to pick up some snackage while we were in town today!”
   Still grumbling as Rufus nodded vigorously and chattered his complete agreement with him from the coffee table, Ron stood up and headed for the door while the naked mole rat vaulted from table to couch cushion, then scampered up the back of the chesterfield and leapt over to his owner’s left shoulder with a quick, agile ease.
   One kitchen raid later, Ron had a big box full of snack… like, foodstuffs and drinks, given Shego’s nutritionist pantry-stocking proclivities, and was heading back upstairs when, just as he reached the turn to go down his side of the upper hall balcony, he heard a distinct sound coming from across the way.
   Pausing, the blond cocked his head back over his shoulder in puzzled, subconscious recognition before the sound repeated itself, still muffled, but much louder this time. As soon as he heard it, the suddenly wide-eyed blond dropped the now forgotten box in his hands and turned around to sprint back in the other direction; it was a girl’s high-pitched shriek of female distress—Kim’s high-pitched shriek of distress; he’d recognize it anywhere!
   “Hang on, Kim; I’m a-comin’!” Ron shouted as he jumped down the first short set of stairs completely, hit the landing with a deep, hollow thump, and then raced up the second set of risers in front of him while his heavy footfalls echoed dully through the empty hall around him.
   Bouncing off the corner wall, Ron shot down the other balcony at top speed and somehow managed a skidding direction change right in front of the heavy wooden door to Shego’s room, so that he burst through the portal with enough momentum that he very nearly, but not quite, failed to stop before plowing into the decorative furniture arrangement occupying the side of the room that was just beyond the doorway.
   Leveling his arm and an accusatory finger at the couch off to his right as he slid to a wobbly, off-balance stop, the agitated teenager boldly decreed; “You unhand her right this instant, you vile, villainous woman you!”
   From where she was arched head-and-shoulders over the arm of the couch, with her dark red mane hanging down to the floor, a gasping, red-faced, teary-eyed Kim Possible looked up at her friend with big, startled eyes, while at the same time, from her position kneeling atop Kim’s slender yet curvy thighs, with her rigid, curling fingertips digging into the teenager’s sleek, ticklish flanks, a grinning, slightly flushed Shego’s dark green gaze peered out from under a veil of disheveled, midnight-green locks as well, equally taken off guard.
   A moment later, the older woman’s gleeful expression slid off her face, replaced by a vexed grimace as she dropped her forehead to Kim’s arched tummy and rested it there, all while shaking her head back and forth gently and groaning out; “Ugh, god; we’ve got to get you a girlfriend, Sidekick…!”
   Despite it being seemingly out of character, the surprisingly sedate (for Shego), resigned response to having her inner sanctum breeched in such a fashion actually made sense; she’d been expecting something like this ever since the blond had arrived yesterday morning, and was relatively relived it had finally happened—after all, what was a buffoon without his buffoonery?
   Meanwhile, right on the heels of Shego’s gruff declaration, from her place starring upside-down at her longtime friend, Kim quickly got her bearings and, in a slightly stern, somewhat clipped tone, demanded; “Ronnnn? What are you doing?”
   “Oh… ahhh… well…” the suddenly red-face teenager stammered out as he turned to face the duo, his right hand rising to scratch the back of his neck nervously, “I was out in the hall… getting some snacks from downstairs… and I then heard you screaming… and I ahhh…”
   “Annnnd you thought she was in trouble,” Shego stated in a sarcasm-laden tone while looking up at Ron once more, “because clearly, the best time for me to unleash an evil plan on her is when she has backup here, instead of the many weeks in which she did not, since apparently, I’m as much of a dumbass as the big blue boob I work for, right?”
   “Oh… weeeell, when you put it that way…” Ron’s cheeks reddened further with the self-conscious response, and he suddenly found the floor off to his left a much more interesting place to be looking at right now.
   “And I do…” Shego stated matter-of-factly while crawling back from Kim and taking up a sitting position on the couch, all while trying to get her luxurious mane of hair back under control.
   “It’s ok, Ron. You were just worried about me and being a good friend, that’s all…”
   Kim sighed while struggling upright, pulling the bottom of her shirt back down while she did—Shego hadn’t been the only one waiting for “something like this.”
   “Right… sorry, sorry; my bad…” Ron answered, still not quite meeting either woman’s gaze as he finally glanced back in their general direction, “How’s’about we just get out of your hair now, and you can get back to… whatever it was you were doing… and we can all just forget this ever happened. OK?”
   “Sounds like a plan…” Shego quipped gruffly, while, in a gentle, understanding tone, Kim replied; “That would probably be best, Ron…”
   As the somewhat less uncomfortable teenager collected himself in preparation to leave, something caught his eye over by the television, and just like that, everything else flew out of the mercurial blond’s head, instantly forgotten as he was struck by the sudden insight his discovery brought with it.
   “That’s it! That’s why this place seems so darn familiar!” Ron shouted, completely ignoring Kim and Shego now as he headed closer to the home entertainment center to confirm his suspicions.
   “Oh god no…” Shego hung her head and slowly shook it side to side with a strange sense of deja vu.
   “I’m right, aren’t I?” Ron grinned broadly as he saw that there was indeed an old, beat-up Play Station console there on the shelf, right next to a small stack of jewel cases that he recognized the artwork for on the topmost one. Turning to Shego, he boldly declared; “You actually did it! You actually built—”
   “Yes! Yes! I built the god damn house from Tomb Raider!” Shego snapped, cutting off the blond as she glared up at him. “Tell your friends! Tell your family! Take out an ad on the goddamn Internet, why don’t you?”
   Next to Shego, Kim bit her lip, turned away from her irate girlfriend, and tried her very best to keep from smirking or laughing.
Meanwhile, an unperturbed Ron cocked his head slightly, brow furrowed in a peculiar, pensive expression, and responded; “Well, actually, you built the house from Tomb Raider two, didn’t you?”
Shego blinked like she’d been pole-axed.
“Anyway, that is totally badical!” Ron was back to grinning like an idiot. “I so wish I’d thought to do something like this with my Naco royalties! I mean, the gold-plated stretch with optional trunk-pool was great, but this is beyond awesome!”
   A moment later, the elated blond seemed to sober slightly, his tone turning curious as he asked; “Hey, ah, in the first one, did you ever figure out where the third secret area was in the Lost Valley? ‘Cuz I could only ever find four of them there… or how to get though the last set of secret ledges in the Sphinx level—I must’a died a thousand times trying to get through that before I finally gave up on it.”
   Still blinking, Shego snapped her head into a vigorous little shake, more or less coming back to herself as she tentatively answered; “Ahhh, yeah? Hundred percent complete on all the originals. You’re probably missing the ammo inside the top of the waterfall right near the starting area…”
   “Oh, no way; you can actually get up there?”
   “Yeah, it’s hell of a lot easier than doing the sphinx run…”
   From her place next to Shego, a quiet Kim was just happy that the entire situation seemed to have resolved itself without any mayhem or murderous intent on the part of the older woman. She was somewhat less excited when, a short while later, “date night” suddenly turned into “game night” somehow. Even so, she was happy enough to sacrifice some time to the cause of peace and harmony between the two.
   Her willingness to martyr herself for that cause began to wane as minutes dragged on into hours, however—especially since the now engrossed duo showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. So the increasingly uninterested redhead became a bored third wheel who ultimately ended up using the time, and her Kimmunicator, to catch up on her various studies, interests, and reading, just like as she always did while hanging out with Ron when he was gaming—or more often, lately, Ron and Felix.
   Even so, as the evening progressed from late night to what could arguably, if mainly only technically, be called (very) early morning, the self-entertained redhead found even her usually boundless energy fading, so, with an increasing amount of heavy-lidded yawning and one final trip to the bathroom, the now tired teenager decided to call it a night.
   “OK, that’s it for me, guys; I’m going to bed.”
   “Yeah, OK, Kim; have a good night,” a distracted Ron answered without looking away from the running gunfight he was current engaged in on screen.
   “Alright, I’ll be in in a bit, Kimmie; just as soon as we get past this area.”
   Yeah, right… Kim thought to herself with a warm, amused little smirk. She knew gamers, and although Shego might not have been anywhere near as bad a Ron, Kim knew “the look” on the other woman’s face; heard it in her preoccupied tone. Shego was clearly “in the zone,” where time flew by in the blink of an eye without any notice whatsoever—hell, Ron didn’t even notice that his best friend since pre-K was disappearing into Shego’s bedroom after saying she was off to bed. So it really didn’t surprise her that after crawling into Shego’s big, luxurious bed, she found herself drifting off into slumber with only the soft, sweet scent of her absent lover for company a short while later—or rather, it wouldn’t have if her increasingly sleepy state allowed for such coherent musings…
   --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
   The next morning, a yawning, stretching Kim almost immediately sensed the empty absence of any sort of warm human contact with her, either to the front or back; she was still the only one under the soft, light summer covers of the firm, four-poster bed she was currently imitating her feline namesake on. Waking up alone wasn’t a sensation she was used to in Shego’s bed, given the older woman’s penchant for sleeping in, so the little, instinctual feeling of disappointment that shot through her served to clear her head and bring her awake far more quickly than even her usual short wakeup time.
   “Hmmm, that’s weird…” Kim murmured to herself as she sat up and rubbed the sand out of her eyes.
   A few moments later, after climbing out of bed, the naked redhead found herself leaping back into the bedroom with a faint cry of alarm instead of continuing on to the bathroom like she’d intended, heart pounding and very much fully awake now after catching a sidelong glimpse of Ron still on the couch out in the other room!
   What the hell? A suddenly red-faced Kim thought to herself sharply as she cautiously peered around the doorjamb. Did he stay up all night playing that stupid game? Did he see me?
   After a moment’s surreptitious reconnaissance, Kim breathed a deep sigh of relief at what she discovered. Then she grinned a big, broad, wry grin, mentally crooning; Awwww; that’s adorable!
   Out in the other room, both Ron and Shego were sitting slumped against each other’s shoulders, game controllers forgotten in lax hands and laps, all while fully dead to the world in a deep, sound sleep despite, or perhaps because of, the lilting trill of the haunting game music continuing to play over the “continue: yes/no?” death screen that had been looping on the TV for quite some time now.
   Adorable or not, Kimmie’s got to pee!
   That was Kim’s immediate, quite pressing thought a few moments later, as she quickly turned and fetched one of Shego’s light silk robes, belted it on, and then headed for the toilet posthaste.
   A few pounds lighter and much less… stressed, a short while later, Kim hastily cleaned herself up and then cautiously returned to the main room of Shego’s suite, only to discover that nothing had changed.
   Perfect… the suddenly grinning redhead thought to herself in a devilish, gleeful tone.
   Padding across the floor on swift, silent bare feet, the teenager stealthily glided back into the bedroom, grabbed her Kimmunicator off the nightstand, and then headed back out into the living room once more, there to take up a position directly in front of the TV, all so that she could get the perfect shot of her girlfriend and best friend using the device’s excellent camera function.
   There, Kim thought to herself once she was done, a little friendly blackmail against Shego, and a little solid evidence to prove Ron wrong if he ever gets bitchy about her again.
   Grinning to herself, Kim checked to make sure her borrowed robe was still belted tight, and properly, before putting her Kimmunicator away and moving over to a less… suspicious, position off to the left of the couch, closer to the bedroom. Then she smiled even wider as she cleared her throat and addressed the pair in a loud, firm tone.
   “Rise and shine, sleepyheads; it’s time to get up now!”
   “Mgluh? Mglarbul… Drakken you… id’ot; s’too early to… take over the w’rld…” A less than half-conscious Shego garbled out, while beside her, in a croaking, equally slurred tone, Ron automatically whined; “C’mon, Mom; jusst a few more minutes! S’not even… school day…”
   Almost immediately, a little, intensely insistent “itch” started up in each of the now partially awake duo’s heads, and a few moments later, urged on by the sheer, undeniable wrongness of what they’d just heard from right next to them, the pair instinctively surged awake, eyes snapping open as they each quickly took stock of the situation. A few seconds after that, both Ron and Shego jerked away from one another with twin cries of alarm, all while Kim tried her best not to burst out laughing.
   While game controllers clattered to the floor and a full couch cushion of space was put between a rapidly retreating Ron and Shego, Rufus gave a big, saber-tooth yawn and went into a trembling, full-body stretch from where he’d been curled up sleeping atop the back of the couch, on the left hand corner next to Ron.
   “C’mon, guys; we’re burnin’ daylight here!” a grinning Kim encouraged, laughter in her voice despite her best efforts. “Let’s get up and go already!”
   Despite the recent adrenaline surge, it was fairly obvious a suddenly blinking, yawning Ron and Shego were starting to backslide into their previous lethargic states.
   “C’mon, KP; the sun isn’t even up yet!” Ron bickered while rubbing at his eyes with both hands.
   “Yeah—” Shego cut herself off with a yawn. “We’ve only had…” Shego squinted at the DVD player across the room, “What? Maybe five hours sleep here?”
   “Well, it’s going to be up any minute now, and nobody forced you to stay up all night playing games, either.” Kim turned her stern gaze from Ron to Shego and continued; “As for you, when I asked if Ron could come here a few days ago, I seem to recall your exact words being ‘yeah, sure, fine, whatever—but if he does, we’re not changing any part of our routine to suit him no matter what, understand?’ ” Kim’s tone turned notably smug as she pointedly concluded; “That was what you said, wasn’t it?”
   “Yeah well that was back when I didn’t think it would bite me in the ass like this!” Shego grumbled and growled with another yawn, but she was also forcing herself up off the couch and into a slightly swaying standing position as she did.
   “Just throw some cold water on your face and you’ll be fine,” Kim chided gently. “Now I’ll meet you downstairs in the gym in fifteen minutes, OK?”
   “Yeah, fine; whatever…” Shego mumbled as she blinked her eyes a few times and then gave her head a sharp shake, trying to focus.
   As Kim headed out of the room and back to her own suite, Ron struggled up off the couch and then, after Rufus hopped over to his left shoulder, turned and took a step to follow the redhead out the door, casually stating; “Well, I’ll just go back to my room then, and let you two get on with whatever it is you’re going to be doing…”
   “Oh no you don’t…” Shego’s left hand shot out to grab Ron by the back of his shirt collar, hauling him up short. “If I have to suffer through this, then so do you, Sidekick!”
   “Oh come on, Shego, I don’t even—” Ron started to protest over his shoulder in a high, whining tone, only to suddenly stop talking as the tall Amazon raised her right hand while a nimbus of bright, gently undulating lime-green energy sprang up around it.
   “You can either join us in the gym for our usual Monday morning workout, or you can get that workout in an entirely different way… capiche, Sport?”
   Perhaps the scariest thing about Shego’s casual, not-so-implied threat of bodily harm was her big, saccharine-sweet smile and bright chipper tone while she said it.
   “Right, so, gym it is then! Can’t wait to get in all that ungodly early exercise this morning…!” Ron immediately agreed with an uneasy laugh and a halfhearted little swing of his fist.
   Despite the flat insincerity of his tone and sudden shift in attitude, Shego released the nervous teenager and sent him on his way—she could recognize the resignation in his dark brown eyes; between Kim’s expectations and her own coercion, the blond would follow through on what he said, however grudgingly. Which was fine with her, given he was the cause of their current dilemma.
   Now all she had to do was manage to stay awake long enough to get changed, drown herself in some ice-water, and get downstairs before her unoccupied mind ground to muzzy, sand-filled halt…

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   Author’s Notes: first, I lost the services of my longtime proofreader Pesterfield, whom I want to thank for all his years of good work helping me out with RoD. Second, I want to thank CreativeToo for filling in for him in the meantime. Third, sorry this took so long, but hopefully I’ll be back to a little quicker production from her on out. Lastly, I wanted to mention my good friend YogurthFrost has been doing some awesome artwork for RoD, so go check it out:

   http://yogurthfrost.deviantart.com/art/Who-is-Corscan-416496929
   http://yogurthfrost.deviantart.com/art/Revelations-of-Destiny-New-Players-and-Old-461574258
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Revelations of Destiny