In the Hands of a Hack

King in Yellow

TITLE: In the Hands of a Hack

AUTHOR: King in Yellow

DISCLAIMER: Disney owns all the various characters from the Kim Possible series. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. If you take any of this personally you need to ask yourself why you have a guilty conscience.

SUMMARY: Kim and Shego find themselves trapped in a world of clichés. Taking it to the usual conclusion appears to be the only way out.

TYPE: Kim/Shego, Undefinable

RATING: US: R / DE: 16

Note: This is a slight expansion of something I wrote for the KPSlashhaven forum.

Words: 1232

Kim stared around her; she had been in the middle of English class and suddenly found herself in a chilly rustic room she'd never seen before. Her arch-foe, Shego, sat on a plain wooden chair -- staring sullenly at the floor.

Kim assumed her fighting stance, “All right, Shego. Where am I? Why did you bring me here? What is Drakken's plan?”

The thief, whose skin tones kept shifting from white to pale with subtle tints of green to moss-hued, looked up at her, “You don't get it, do you Kim? I didn't bring you here. Our being together doesn't have to make sense. We're both victims of the Cliché Writer.”

“God, NO! That means…”

Even as she spoke the two could hear the rumble as the avalanche started, cutting them off from the rest of the world until their drama played itself out.

“At least Drakken's lair didn't blow up on us again. One or both of us always gets hurts when that happens. You want to check on food and water?” Shego asked. “If we've got a lot on hand it means we're stuck here for a while. With any luck there's no food and we get rescued tomorrow.”

“Or there's no food and one of us has to eat each other.”

“I don't think we're in a snuff scene.” Shego grinned, “But if we're in a lemon we might end up eating each other.”

“What are you going to do while I check the food supply?”

“I'm going to confirm the wood supply for the stove in inadequate and that we have a single bed and single blanket. You know where this is going, don't you?”

The redhead nodded.

They came back into the main room seven minutes later. It was as they feared, but fortunately the low supply of food suggested the scene wouldn't last long.

“Hold on! The Hack forgot I've got a cell phone in my leg pouch.” Shego pulled out the phone, only to find she was out of her service area.

“Ha!” Kim smirked, “The Kimmunicator covers all of North America.”

“Then we're probably in Europe,” Shego predicted.

“He wouldn't have enough budget for that.” When the Kimmunicator came on, however, it didn't show Wade. He had propped a little sign up where his webcam could broadcast the image to Kim. 'Sorry, I developed some mysterious rash and will be in the hospital until after the rescue.'

“Now you're supposed to say something about hoping Wade is okay,” Shego said, “and I make an off-color remark about the marvelous things they're doing with penicillin these days.”

“There's no point trying to fight it,” Kim remarked. “I'm cold and I want to go home. Should we just get in bed and get it over with?”

“Too early. It has to be night and we have to insult each other until then.”

“Did you remember to bring a deck of cards the way you promised the last time we got stranded together?”

“Sorry, I forgot. Should we look around the cabin for board games?”

“No. We'd probably find a chess set. And the writer will have you play like a grandmaster. Hey, I have an idea. Let's wait for you to become moss-colored again and they we can wonder about whether the Hack has even seen moss.”

Finally the two settled down and traded polite insults until dusk began to fall. “Okay, Kim, do we do the coin flip or the sparring to see which one of wins the bed and blanket.”

“Why don't you just take it? You know that in an hour we're going to be in bed together with our tongues in each other's mouths regardless.”

“It's the formula, Kim. We have to stick to the expected. Why don't I just call heads and toss a coin. In fifteen minutes you'll notice I left my double-headed nickel on the table and you'll come in angry. I'll agree to let you share the bed. And, well, you know what happens.”

Fifteen minutes later Kim entered the small bedroom. “Shego,” she said in a tired voice, “I am so angry with you. You cheated. Get out of bed and I will mop the floor with you.”

“Oh, Kim, I have realized I was unfair to you. Please share the bed with me,” Shego suggested in a mechanical voice and turned one corner of the blanket down -- inviting Kim under the cover with her.

Kim giggled as she slid under the blanket, “Well, at least we get a little fun now. I like this part.” She moaned at the proper volume of softness as Shego fondled her breasts while the dark-haired woman's tongue gently licked Kim's throat.

“Hey, how come you are always the aggressor?” Kim demanded.

“Because I'm the bad girl,” Shego explained after taking her tongue from Kim's ear. “You haven't complained the last two-thousand seven-hundred and twenty-four times when I started to grope you for the first time. I mean, you sometimes resist for a minute but then you always surrender yourself to the warmth of the older woman's passionate embrace.”

“You counted?”

Shego blushed, “Well, our first time is always special, no matter how many times it happens… Wait a minute, you didn't?” Her feelings hurt the older woman rolled over, turning her back to Kim as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Kim put her hand on Shego's shoulder and rolled her back towards the young heroine, “Look, I'm sorry. But if you keep count it sounds mechanical instead of spontaneous.

“And besides,” Kim purred, “tonight is different. Tonight I want to be the aggressor.” The redhead pulled Shego's mouth to her own, kissing her hard, while her hands explored Shego's black-and-green costume, looking for the zipper and seams to strip her beloved enemy.

As Kim's warm hand slipped down Shego's stomach the older woman decided she liked this new Kim. Then she froze with that thought, a new Kim? That could only mean…

They suddenly heard fists pounding on the door and Drakken and Ron's voices. “We found the Writer! You're safe. You can get out of bed.”

“Damn,” said Kim, giving Shego a kiss that was both fierce and gentle at the same time.

“I agree with you,” said the brunette, wondering how she was supposed to give the young woman a regretful hug.

The two women got out of bed and, with the ease of long practice, made themselves presentable before letting Ron and Dr. Drakken into the cabin.

Ron, whose writer had apparently never even actually met a Jewish person, gave Kim a comforting hug, “There, there, you knew your Shegetz would find you.”

Kim suddenly found herself careening even more completely out of character, all her memories since she was four years old were suddenly twisting and she found herself loving Ron. Kim turned desperately back to the pale woman, “Help me, Shego. I can feel my brain cells dying! I'm wanting some nonsense called 'Ronshine'. We've got to do something before I'm brain dead!”

Shego stared at Kim, a look of utter horror distorting her usually lovely features, “It's too late, Princess. They only took out the writer they hate -- there're more of them out there. I… I find myself having secretly respected and loved Dr. Drakken.”

Kim shuddered, as bad as she felt for herself she still pitied the fate of her pale friend.