Disclaimer: No, I do not own Kim Possible or any characters associated with the show.

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The deep rumble of a sports car echoed along the busy Los Angeles street, accompanied by angry motorists yelling and blowing their horns. A sleek, green Lamborghini came tearing into view, weaving its way in and out of the nighttime traffic. Accelerating sharply, it pulled out into oncoming traffic then veered back across three lanes before coming to a pinpoint stop in front of a restaurant. At the wheel was a grinning woman, her raised middle finger saluting the passing motorists.

Learn to drive, morons, Shego mouthed as she turned the car's engine off. She slipped her stylish heels on and grabbed her purse, then swung the door up and gracefully stepped out.

While she hardly ever did 'girly', tonight was one of those exceptions. She was dressed to kill. The long, figure hugging black dress fit her like a second skin, an arm and shoulder bare. A thigh-high split up one side flaunted a long leg as she walked, her hips swaying as she headed for the entrance.

The valet blinked, swallowed, then remembered his duties, quickly stepping up to her. "Ma'am."

"Scratch it, I scratch you!" Shego said, flames flickering around her fingers for emphasis. She dropped her keys into his shaking hand and without another glance walked inside.

~o~

Shego paused and scanned the interior of the restaurant, noting the exits, stairs, windows and clientele. While her and Dr. Drakken's life of villainy had ended with their amnesty after the Lorwardian invasion, it was too ingrained into her DNA not to. Satisfied, she stepped forwards, pleasantly surprised at the ambience in the room, all flickering candles and couples chatting away.

She tightened her grip on her purse, a thrill running up her spine. She would soon be seeing Kim again … after all these years.

She had missed her Kimmie. That was right, hers. Kim may have disappeared to play college and girlfriend with Ron, but she would always be Shego's … to tease and to taunt with as she saw fit. She had scoffed at their vanishing act at first, and then had become quite frustrated when no amount of searching, hacking or bribery had revealed their whereabouts. Wade had covered their tracks to perfection. She had gone through many stages of annoyance at that, before finally accepting that Kim was gone. Luckily there was some small consolation in the fact that Global Justice had panicked at Kim's loss, fruitlessly searching for her as well.

Then, a few weeks ago, word had spread through her old contacts that a female crime fighter in a white and blue battlesuit was tearing through the latest slew of wannabe villains. The inTerror-net forums had exploded in fear, the older and more experienced supervillains going silent. Kim Possible … had returned.

Oh yes, Kimmie certainly showed those upstarts what it's like to play in the big league.

She had flirted with the idea of dragging her catsuit out of storage and committing some sort of meaningless crime in Middleton just so they could meet up, but that was so 'four years ago'. Then … had come the letter, inviting her out to dinner.

Yeah, this is gonna be fun, she thought, grinning.

~o~

Celebrity and saving the world certainly had its perks, as Shego found herself personally escorted to her table by the maître d'. She admired the room as she went, all candle lit and looking like a dark, enchanted garden; each table surrounded by ivy covered lattice so they became isolated islands unto themselves in a sea of warm darkness. It was like taking a step back in time, far, far away from the world outside.

Tres romantique, she thought, looking at the jet black tablecloth and dark green plates, a single red candle flickering away in the center. She rolled her eyes at the thought then smirked. Sorry, Kimmie, no amount of sweet talking is going to get me to take it easy on you. I've gotta make you pay for hiding, and I'm not gonna let ya leave til I'm done.

The maître d' snapped his finger, bringing Shego out of her thoughts, and in a few seconds some champagne on ice was sitting next to her. With practiced ease the cork was removed and a glass poured, the maître d' awaiting her response.

She eyed the bottle, an eyebrow going up at the name and vintage.

Dafuq?! Krug, Clos d'Ambonnay?

She knew her champagnes, but it was more for personal reasons than anything else. It played crazy havoc with her body, and the better the champagne the more intense her reaction. It was all related with her powers and how they interacted with the alcohol. For those reasons she was always wary of the stuff, but for a few thousand dollars a bottle…

She weighed the pros and cons as she swirled the fluted glass in her hand.

Yeah… y'know what? Fuck it! I wasn't planning on anything else tonight.

She breathed in the wonderful aroma from the champagne, the scent bringing to mind orange blossoms, candied apricots and citrus fruits. Taking a sip, she let the warmth spread through her, and lower. It was delightful, the palate full and deep, reminiscent of tropical fruits, an amazing freshness that was altogether enhanced by its fine bubbles and long finish.

She nodded that it was good. It was really, really good. And the maître d' filled her glass and took his leave.

Okay, Kimmie's… planning something. You don't meet at a restaurant like this and order this sorta champagne just to say 'hi'. She thought about the situation as she enjoyed her drink. Is she…? She sat up, staring into the darkness. Oh, the clever little bitch! She wants me off-balance.

She was happy with the why, she just didn't know why. Sitting back, she finished her drink then poured herself another one. Sipping the champagne, she checked her watch, surprised that Kim was not already here. After all, she had made sure she was fashionably late. Miffed that she had been beaten at her own game, she pulled the letter from her purse and reread it for the hundredth time.

Hey, Sheridan. Guess who?

Sheridan, her real name. One which she had been going by for a few years now. Still, she had not needed to guess the author's identity, instantly recognizing the handwriting. Sloped and spiky and flowing in a smooth manner, it was written by someone always in a hurry. She found herself smiling as she remembered teaching Kim's class and grading their essays. It had been one of the few times in her criminal career when she had been truly happy, even if she was truly mind-fucked. Blinking at the fond memories, she brought the letter back up and started again.

Hey, Sheridan. Guess who?

I'm passing through L.A. on the 15th and was wondering if you would like to catch up? I've booked a table at Le Petit Jardin for 9pm and really hope you can make it.

Kim.

P.S. I've found something really special to wear for the occasion.

Shego snorted as she folded the letter up and put it away. Special, hey? I'll show ya special, Kimmie.

~o0o~ ~o0o~ ~o0o~

It seems that Shego is all set for whatever Kim throws her way, but will she really be ready? Only time and another chapter will tell. I would normally insert some evil laughter here, but lets go with an intense smile instead.

This jumping to a new story and the same characters but with different mindsets and attitudes is still strange for me. It's one of the reasons I'm having such a troublesome time writing. Still, the chapter is out there, so come on inspiration your readers demand more!

For those interested in my image for Shego's dress, do a web search for: AQ AQ Yoko Maxi Dress with Thigh Split.