Kim Possible Porn Story: Confessions of a Teenage Heroine Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I only
own my villainesses and Shego’s parents.

I came out of the
shower and overheard a very heated discussion going on in the meeting
room.

“Is she back
to herself yet?” War Hawk’s timid voice came over the giant t.v.

“Yeah, no
thanks to you,” Hego said venomously.

“I guess she
filled you in about last night,” she murmured.

“Yeah, she
did. And I’ve gotta say, that’s pretty low, even for you guys.”

“I know. I’ve
lost sleep and everything. Can I just talk to Shego?” Then there
was silence.

I walked into the
meeting room. The screen was blank. I stared at an angry Hego in
amazement.

“Did you just
hang up on War Hawk?”

“Heck yes, I
did! Remember, she tried to kill you last night?”

“They try to
kill us on a regular basis,” I muttered. I moved to the control
panel, “Would you kindly leave the room so you don’t bash what’s
left of her hope of you two getting along?” Hego frowned, but
left. I dialed War Hawk up again. After a few seconds, her face
flashed onto the screen. She looked like she had fallen into the
control panel chair.

“Hey,”
she huffed, smiling. I smirked.

“Hey. What’s
up?” She rubbed her neck.

“We went out
of bounds last night. No matter how cute and cuddly you were, no
matter how much easier a life you would have, no matter how annoying
Go-go in your body was, it was uncalled for to try to disintegrate
your body. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever.
You’re the one with issues. I’d rather you take a side than abstain.
Stand up for yourself!” I urged. War Hawk smiled sheepishly.

“Is that a
come-over-for-breakfast-I-forgive-you or a
this-is-going-to-take-awhile-I-forgive-you?”

“It’s a
I’m-gonna-milk-this-a-little-sure-you-can-come-over-for-breakfast-if-you-wanna-brave-my-brothers-I-forgive-you,”
she grinned.

“I’ll be right
over,” she promised.

I finished getting
ready and headed down. A minute or two later, the doorbell rang.

“Someone’s
here!” Go-go shouted.

“I heard it,”
I said, following her to the door. I opened it. War Hawk had pulled
out her hair tie and was running her fingers through her hair.

“I swear, no
matter what I do, my hair always gets messed up. Downside of flying,
I guess.”

“Oh, crap.”
That’s right, I stole her car. She laughed.

“It’s all
right. Call it even,” she knew what I was thinking.

“Ahem,”
Go-go cleared her throat. War Hawk glanced down, “Am I nothing
to you? Aren’t you going to greet me?”

“You aren’t
mad?”

“About what?
Why?” War Hawk and I exchanged glances. Apparently Go-go was
really
oblivious to last night’s events.

Mom greeted War
Hawk like she was a part of the family.

“Hurry up and
eat. The school won’t wait for you to get there,” she muttered
as she passed. We smiled at each other and helped ourselves to the
cereal.

Hego didn’t so
much as look at War Hawk the entire time. Mego and the twins accepted
her, as they accepted most of my friends. I realized, over the quiet
breakfast, War Hawk was the only one Mego didn’t mouth off to. The
theory of crushitivity was out the window, even after the brain
switch. I knew Mego’s crush signs, and he wasn’t displaying any.

“Any chance
you’ve heard from Mischief?” War Hawk asked. I furrowed my
eyebrows.

“No. Should I
have?”

“Dunno. She
took off after all that last night, didn’t say a word. We assumed she
went after you and Go-go.” She glanced at Hego, “Do you
know?” Hego looked curiously at her.

“How would I
know?”

“Well, if you
thought what we were doing was illegal…”

“Wait a
minute. First of all, what you were doing was
illegal. Second, are you accusing me of arresting Mischief?”

“It’s not
outside your realm of possibilities,” I admitted.

“Why would I
go after just Mischief?” Hego said condescendingly.

“Because she’s
the ringleader and you seem to have a fascination with taking them
down,” her tone turned bitter. Mego, with the common sense the
good Lord gave him, scooted away from Hego.

“Really?”
He snarled. I held up my hands.

“Whoa, you
two. No World War III at the breakfast table,” I joked. Hego
glared at me. War Hawk sighed.

“Let’s go.
Mego, you want a ride?”

“Yeah,”
he said without hesitation, a slight “duh” tone to his
voice. We three put our dishes away, War Hawk looking upset. I rubbed
her back.

“You really
need to stop thinking he’ll change,” I warned. She shook her
head.

“It’s not
that. It’s Mischief. I’ve got a nagging feeling about this…I… You
should’ve seen her last night. She wasn’t herself at all,” Mego
snorted.

“Please. The
girl’s moods change more than Hego with the t.v. remote. Whatever
funk she was in, she’s probably out of,” I looked at him with
admiration.

“For once,
you’re actually right,” I praised, patting his head. He swatted
my hand away in annoyance.

I felt pretty
confident about the day, sitting in the passenger’s seat of the Pimp
Mobile, listening to a good mixed cd with my BFFAE (to translate,
best friend forever and ever), my little brother staying quiet like a
good boy in the backseat. His statement made a ton of sense. Maybe I
should… No. Listening to Mego was often a disaster looking for
someone to put the blame on. But Mischief was moody, and didn’t take
defeat well right afterwards. She calmed down after a good night’s
sleep.

We dropped Mego
off at the middle school first and then continued to the high school.
Our friends were waiting in a clump by the entrance, most carrying
things that appeared to be presents. I grinned. Guilt trip time.

“We’re sorry,”
they chorused, some sounding more sorry than others. I brushed past
them, jutting my chin into the air, “Shego!”

“I have been
hurt so deeply, NOTHING can resolve my pain,” I jokingly
seethed.

“Not even the
new She-Devils cd?”

“Gimme!”
I spun around as soon as the words left Metaphor’s lips. She grinned
and handed it over. My eyes widened.

“A receipt.
This means you…”

“Bought it.
Told you I was sorry,” I hugged her.

“I feel so
loved, and so deeply suspicious, all at once.”

“We’ve done
enough tricks for a couple days,” Artica assured her, handing
over her present. A box of chocolates. I hugged her.

“You guys know
me too well,” I looked expectantly at Golden Arrow. She
shrugged.

“Sorry, but
I’m not sorry,” she admitted. I huffed.

“Fine then,”
I made a chopping motion to the space between us, “Shun.”
They laughed and followed me to my locker.

I opened it to
find a couple blown up balloons stuffed inside, “We’re sorry”
scribbled in Sharpie on them. They remained stuffed inside.

“They were
supposed to fly out,” War Hawk pouted. I grabbed the strings and
yanked them out.

“Yay!” I
cheered. One of them drifted downwards and I saw an envelope attached
to it. I untied it and opened it. Go-go’s papers were stuffed inside,
“Aw, how kind is Mischief?”

“War Hawk had
to steal the papers back. None of us have seen Mischief since she
slipped out after you drove off,” Golden Arrow stated. I
reversed the chopping motion.

“Un-shun.
What?”

“No one’s seen
her.”

“Maybe she’s
sick,” War Hawk offered.

“That’s a
pretty quick and coincidental illness,” Golden Arrow pointed
out. I made the chopping motion again as the bell rang.

“Re-shun.”

Mischief didn’t
pop up later that day. Even Tigress had asked about her. Even Mom had
asked about her. Even if she was sick, Mom reasoned, she called in
and said she wasn’t coming. To be honest, there was a bad feeling in
the pit of my stomach, too.

This feeling was
justified the next morning at school. At first, I didn’t even
recognize her. She was wearing a plain jean jacket, a brown plain
t-shirt, and a plain black pair of slacks. Mischief never
dressed in such ordinary clothes, unless by force.

“Hey,
Mischief!” I called. She ignored me. I grabbed her shoulder,
“Mischief, didn’t you hear me?” She jerked away from me.

“Leave me
alone,” she murmured. Using a plain voice. My eyes widened and
then relaxed.

“I think it’s
someone’s
time of mo-onth,” I sang. She looked at me, her eyes devoid of
all light. My heart pounded, “Mischief, what’s wrong?”

“My name’s
Cassandra, or Cassy. Don’t call me Mischief anymore,” Her voices
trembled, “I don’t want, I don’t want to be friends…anymore.”

She turned away
from me, tears forming in her eyes. She left me stunned in the
hallway, unable to move. Unable to think past “Mischief just
broke up with me. What could possibly be going on?” No matter
what had been going on with her, and there had been a lot that had
gone on in her 16 years, she had never withdrawn from us. If
anything, she drew closer.

Tigress approached
our table during lunch.

“What’s up
with Mischief?” She demanded. The other girls exchanged glances.

“We don’t
know,” Golden Arrow spoke. Tigress scowled.

“She’s not
talking to anyone,” she insisted. They laughed, “No! I’m
serious!” She growled.

“She is,”
I defended. The very fact of me defending Tigress got them to stare
at me, “She told me not to call her Mischief, to call her
Cassandra. And she said she didn’t want to be friends anymore.”

There was a
deafening crunch of a potato chip, but otherwise no sound. They were
just as stunned as I had been.

“Fix it,”
Tigress snarled, and stalked off. No one spoke the rest of lunch.

&

I poked at the
lasagna leftovers Mom had packed for my dinner. There was just too
much worry in my stomach for me to be hungry, even if Mom’s lasagna
put Rachael Ray to shame. I saw someone walk towards me, but didn’t
pay any attention until Betty sat in front of me with a Tupperware
full of lasagna. I smirked at the similarity.

“Shego, is
something bothering you?” She flat out asked. I nodded. No use
lying to her. She prodded the cheese, “I know your boss isn’t
the ideal confidant, but I’m worried. The last time you asked to work
security…you’ve never asked to work for security.”

“I’ve just got
something on my mind and it’s kind of interfering with everything,”
I smirked, “I know you don’t have any friends, so it would be
hard for you to understand,” Betty smirked back.

“I’ll try to
relate,” she promised. I took a deep breath.

“One of my
friends is acting weird. She’s usually this bubbly, outgoing,
friendly person, but lately she’s cut off all contact with everyone.
Since she tried to kill my body, which at the time my dog was
inhabiting, she’s just been…trying to fit in.” The words hurt
coming out. Fitting in and Mischief didn’t even belong in the same
book, let alone the same sentence.

Betty broke eye
contact, continuing to prod her dinner.

“She hasn’t
told you yet,” she stated.

“Told us
what?”

“This is
Cassandra, isn’t it?” She back tracked. I nodded. She sighed, “I
wasn’t going to say anything because I thought you knew. Actually, I
thought you were the cause behind it,” she half-heartedly
smiled, “I guess, in a way, you were.”

“Cut the crap,
Betty, and tell me what you know,” Betty’s gaze came back up,
meeting mine.

“Cassandra
came in the other day, asking about how much time she owed. We sat
down, figured it out, wrote up a contact, and she signed,” My
heart pounded.

“What does
that mean?” Don’t say the “r” word, don’t say the “r”
word, don’t say the “r” word, please for the love of
Italian food, DON’T SAY THE “R” WORD!!

“She’s
reforming.”

It felt like a
bullet had just hit me in the heart. Reforming was the villain’s way
of giving up. Cutting their losses. Cashing in their chips. Death
was more acceptable than reform in the villain’s world. No wonder she
wasn’t hanging out with us. If the other girls knew she was throwing
in the towel with her life of crime, they would beg her to stay. And
if Tigress got wind of the situation…

“I don’t know
why she’s withdrawing from you and your friends,” she continued,
“Maybe she’s trying to get a new start.”

“She’s not
talking to anyone.
It isn’t just us,” I pleaded, as though Betty could change
Mischief’s strange behavior. Betty shook her head.

“I don’t know
what to tell you, Shego, except for not to interfere if she’s really
trying to walk the straight and narrow. It will be better for her in
the long run.”

&

Better for her in
the long run, better for her in the long run… The words kept
echoeing in my head.

“Shego?”

“She’s
reforming,” I murmured absentmindedly.

“Watch your
mouth!” Artica hissed. The others glanced around. I was leaning
against the lockers for support after school. They leaned closer.

“Who’s
reforming?” War Hawk whispered. I snorted.

“Martha
Stewart. Who do you think I’m talking about?!”

“Keep your
voice down,” Metaphor warned.

“Shego, I know
you’re not a villain, therefore you don’t know villain protocol. But
you don’t joke about the big “r”, okay?” Artica said.

“I’m not
joking. Betty told me yesterday how she went in…papers were
signed…community service…”

“Mischief just
wouldn’t… you know. She doesn’t give up like that,” Golden
Arrow reasoned.

“It’s…sudden,”
Metaphor stated.

“Never would
have thought that Mischief would do the big “r”. She loves
crime,” Artica said.

“Should we try
to talk her out of it?” War Hawk asked.

“If she went
to GJ… I think it’s too late,” Golden Arrow said.

The subject was
approached like if someone was suicidal; how do we talk her out of it
without pushing her over the edge? Even if it might encourage her, it
wasn’t my style to be gentle.

&

The first time I
drove my truck, I didn’t feel the joy I thought I would. Half because
I was worried about my mission, half because it still smelled like
smoke. I drove out onto the freeway that connected Go City to the
rest of the world. I pulled over a fair distance away and put on a
yellow helmet, a neon orange vest, and a pair of latex gloves. I got
out of the truck and jogged up to the one other girl with a yellow
helmet and a neon orange vest, being monitored by a police officer. I
pulled out the garbage bag and started looking for litter. Mischief
glanced at me, but continued picking up litter.

For a while, we
just picked up litter side-by-side, the officer not saying anything
about the addition.

“I’m not
trying to divert you from doing the big “r” or anything.
It’s your own business, not mine. But what is my business is that
you’re totally cutting everyone off. It isn’t like you and I’m
worried.”‘

“Don’t be,”
she said matter-of-factly. I laughed in disbelief, shaking my head.

“That’s like
telling the sun not to shine, or a mule to have a baby. It ain’t
gonna happen.”

“Shego, we
aren’t friends anymore.”

“I don’t
remember agreeing to that,” I snarled.

“You don’t
have to!” She barked.

“I will,
because I love you!” This sudden burst of affection caused her
to be even angrier.

She was silent for
about ten minutes. Meanwhile, I had picked up a beer bottle filled
with hobo pee and nearly hurled. It reeked, and was disgusting. Thank
goodness for gloves.

“I won’t be in
Go City much longer,” she finally said, “Once I’m done with
my community service, I’m going to go to a nunnery to devote my life
to goodness,” I paused as she moved further up the ditch.

“You’re not
even Catholic.”

“Go away,”
she pleaded. Somehow, I managed to.

It is the worst
feeling in the world when your friend is obviously suffering, but you
have no idea how to help him. I wasn’t just about to let her run off
and become a nun, but she wasn’t accepting my help.

&

“This is a
disaster,” Mrs. White groaned, “Our Maria is missing, and
our Liesel and Rolfe hate each other. We have no romance, and romance
is the life blood of this play!” I leaned over to Hego.

“I thought it
was music,” he shrugged.

“If something
isn’t done, we may have to to cancel the production,” I groaned.
All that memorizing and staying after school for nothing? Don’t think
so. I stood up.

“With God as
my witness, I will
bring Frauline Maria back!” I vowed, shaking my fist
in the air.

No response. I sat
back down. Seemed a little strange that the drama group wouldn’t
appreciate my theatrics.

&

“Don’t let
Mischief become a nun!”

“Keep her in
Go City!”

“Sign the
petition!”

The villainesses
and I were out in front of the school, banners and megaphones and
flyers galore. It was called “The Mischief Project”. I held
onto my empty paper on my clipboard, hoping someone would come along.
And then, Tigress passed by. She was upset about Mischief! She’d
sign. I jogged up to her.

“Don’t let
Mischief become a nun!” I begged. Tigresss gave me a strange
look and then took the clipboard. She scribbled something down and
then handed it back. I squinted at it. Ew. They jogged up to me.

“Did you get a
signature?” War Hawk asked. I edited the first letter.

“Is “Puck
You” a Chinese enough name?” I asked. Artica sighed.

Gaw! Its like
no one in this school cares about her but us! She exclaimed.

Weve got
Jesuss signature, our signatures, and now Mr. Puck You, Golden
Arrow said discouragedly.

Come on, guys.
We can do this; we just arent getting a good crowd here.

Maybe we could
try the mall, Metaphor suggested. I shrugged.

Lets pack it
up. Pretty much everyones gone home now. I need to go to my locker
real quick and then Ill meet up with you guys, They nodded
their agreement and I walked off.

A note dropped out
of my locker when I opened it. I picked it up. No doubt it my mind,
it was Mischiefs handwriting on it. Shego, Its not fair to
you guys for me to just cut you off without explaining. How about we
meet up at that ice cream place at the mall to talk it through?
Cassy P.S. I’d prefer it if it was just us two. You can tell them
later. P.P.S. I’ll pay. P.P.P.S. For my own, that is :)” I
laughed and went back to the girls.

“Why don’t you
guys head to the park instead? Remember the incident with the
security guards and Mischief?” I suggested. The girls glanced at
each other.

“Yeah, that’s
probably best,” Golden Arrow agreed.

So I drove to the
mall and went to the Lactose Duchess. Mischief was sitting in a
corner booth, stirring a Hurricane. I ordered one with cookie dough,
chocolate chips, peanut butter, M&M’s, and chocolate ice cream. I
slid into the booth across from Mischief.

“Yeah, um,
I’ll start off by saying I’m sorry for being a biscuit lately.”

“Hey,
whatever,” I shrugged it off. I took a bite, “I’m more
worried about what’s going on with you right now. I mean, pulling
away from us? Snapping and being angry and sad? Being quiet?!
Staying in one voice constantly?!”

“I know, I
know. A little different. I’m sorry.”

“Will you stop
saying that?”

“But I am!”
Mischief’s voice was borderline changing.

We finished and
then went to Anna’s, a jewelry store. We were in the far corner,
trying on headbands and fake hair pieces.

“I’m not going
to try to dissuade you,” I promised her, “I just wanna know
why.”

“Why I’m going
good or why I’m cutting off all of humanity? Actually, they’re kind
of intwined,” she set a faux alligator skin head band. Her voice
was quieter when she spoke again, “It was the Go-go incident.
When you were saying those things, like , it made
me think. I never realized how bad a person I was and how much I was
hurting everyone. So I just figured I’d be better off alone.”

“What kind of
twisted logic is that?! Missy, your good way, way, WAY overshadows
your bad!” I hugged her, “We love you, and it would hurt us
way worse if you were to become a nun and live in some abbey
somewhere.”

“Yeah, I saw
the petition thing. It made me feel loved.”

“You should,”
We walked out towards the exit.
It just wouldn’t be a shopping trip with a villainess without the
alarm system going off.

She
looked at me and shrugged apologetically.

“Another
reason why I can’t become a nun,” she murmured and then threw
her head back, screaming like Shaggy from Scooby Doo, “I’M A
KLEPTOMANIAC!!”

&

Thank
God for technicalities, I thought as we went to our dress rehearsal.
The papers of Mischief’s reform had not gone through yet, so there
was no punishment for her dropping out. Besides a ticked off Betty.
But we had our Frauline back, even if Liesel and Rolfe weren’t acting
much like teenage lovers.

Actually,
Liesel was scared to death. She was shivering from head to toe as we
dressed into our costumes. She didn’t speak, and she was even more
pale than usual.

“Are
you all right?” Metaphor, Mischief and I took turns asking. She
nodded, but didn’t speak.

Maybe
it was the fact Tigress was in the front row with a video camera set
up grinning like a maniac.

“Cue
lights, cue music,” Mrs. White said. The lights went down and I
shuffled on with the other nuns in my nun gear.

However,
it wasn’t the nun chant that blasted over the auditorium speakers. It
was the Macarena.

&

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