Kim Possible and all related characters and indicia are owned by the Disney Corporation. Supergirl and all related characters and indicia are owned by DC Comics/Warner Bros. This work of fan fiction is written for pleasure, not profit.

The University of Northern California depicted in this story is entirely fictitious and is not intended to represent the real University of Northern California.

Kim Possible bounced lightly on the balls of her feet, watching intently as her best friend and partner Ron Stoppable swung his racquet and drove the blue racquetball toward the far wall of the court. The tiny blue sphere bounced back, caroming off the right hand wall as it did so. Kim dove sideways, swept her own racquet around, and sent the ball back again. Ron had to move fast to catch the returning ball. He managed, just, to hit it. Kim swore silently. By accident or design the ball was coming back just along the wall on the opposite side of the court. She sprinted to intercept, knowing what it would cost her but determined to win the game and the match. Her racquet sent the ball back toward the far wall right before she ran full tilt into the side wall. Staggering back, Kim turned just in time to see Ron make a desperate dive for the ball, miss it, and hit the floor with a loud thud.

He lay there, breathing hard, soaked in sweat just like Kim was. She leaned against the wall and slid down to a sitting position.

"That's," she gasped, "The game, and the match. I win."

Ron waved his racquet in acknowledgment of her victory, then pushed himself up and rose to his feet.

"This time," he allowed, crossing the court to help Kim to her feet.

"This time," Kim agreed, smiling at him. She and Ron were midway through their first semester of college at the University of Northern California and played racquetball at least twice a week. Kim had been introduced to the game by one of her boyfriends, and her enthusiasm for it had lasted long after she'd given him the deep six. Ron had taken the ex-boyfriend's place as Kim's partner and quickly fell in love with the sport.

Kim smiled again. Unlike her ex, Ron played to win, all the time. The ex had made a point of losing in an all too blatant effort to curry favor with her, probably in hopes of getting into her pants. Unfortunately for him, Kim had no use for someone who threw games so obviously. Ron lost more than he won, but he always made her work for her victories.

'Work hard, too,' Kim thought as she took Ron's hand and let him pull her to her feet. Aching muscles protested the shift in position and Kim winced. They usually played best of three matches, and Kim couldn't recall the last time she'd needed less than all three to win. She'd barely won this match, dropping the first game and having to come from behind to win the second. The third game had been as hard fought as any, and if Kim had the edge on Ron in endurance, his superior upper body strength at least partially offset it. All of which meant that she'd be bruised and sore tomorrow, since playing all out was the only way she could beat him.

While Ron picked up his gym bag from along the back wall, Kim pulled sweat pants and a tee shirt on over her tight fitting shorts and the sports bra she'd been wearing as a top. Then Ron ducked out through the small door in the back wall of the court, Kim following on his heels. They were in the Field House, the UNC's student athletics facility. It was a Saturday morning in October and the Field House was crowded with students involved in various activities. As Kim and Ron left the racquetball court they'd been using, two more people ducked past them into it. Four such courts lined one side of this particular hallway, and all were in use, as were the two basketball courts on the other side.

"Ugh," Kim groaned, rubbing her left elbow as the two friends walked out of the Field House and headed for their dormitory, which stood less than a block away. It was a sunny day, but a touch on the cool side, with a noticeable breeze, so they didn't opt for a leisurely stroll back.

'Ah, the dorm,' Kim thought as they entered the lobby. It was an old apartment building the University had purchased (or had it been donated? Kim couldn't quite remember) and converted to high end student housing. Strictly speaking, UNC's housing policy forbade coed living arrangements, but thanks to Wade and his superior computer skills, Kim and Ron had managed to secure a two person apartment on the fourteenth floor. Just what the University thought of the matter, if they were even aware of it, Kim didn't know. All she knew was that she and Ron got to share a small (tiny, really) two bedroom apartment with a kitchenette and private bath that actually had a shower/tub combo. Ron beat her to the bank of elevators and punched all four call buttons.

They had also foregone official university meal plans. Instead, they bought their own groceries and took turns cooking for each other. Kim's cooking skills had improved tremendously in the short time they'd been at college, thanks to Ron's instruction. All in all, it was a nearly perfect arrangement, Kim thought as an elevator car arrived and she and Ron boarded it.

Nearly perfect because the apartment had somewhat thin interior walls, which made intimate moments with their respective boy and girlfriends...awkward. Kim still blushed whenever she remembered what Ron had said the morning after the first time she'd had a guy over for the night . Apparently Ron had overheard every single thing she'd said, and every little noise she'd made, for he'd launched into a startlingly complete recitation. However, instead of trying to forbid her ever to have sex in the apartment again while he was there, Ron had come up with a simple but highly effective solution, one that worked equally well for her when Ron had girls over. Earplugs.

Kim giggled as they stepped out of the elevator, and Ron gave her a questioning look.

"Just remembering something," Kim said, giggling again. Ron grinned.

"Like that your folks are going to be here in an hour? Or like that Kara will be here at noon?"

"Gah!" Kim exclaimed, looking at her watch. It was already after ten. "I need to take a shower!" She made a bee line for their apartment and started undressing as soon as she was across the threshold. Ron got through the door in time to see Kim pull her bra over her head as she disappeared into the bathroom. He shook his head. It sometimes struck him as odd that Kim would get undressed in front of him without (apparently) a second thought. It had happened a few times back home, to be sure, but since they'd become roommates it happened on a regular basis. He'd seen her in nothing more than a bra and panties so often that he hardly gave it a second thought anymore.

"At least she hasn't come out topless again," he mused aloud. That had been a real eye opener. Kim had come out her room one morning, headed for the shower, wearing only panties. It had taken Ron's popeyed stare and bright red blush to make her wonder if something was wrong. When she realized her situation she'd blushed as deeply as Ron had, covered herself with an arm, and ducked back into her room.

"Sorry about that," she'd apologized, still red faced, when she'd emerged again. "I sometimes forget that you're a guy."

Ron had decided to lighten the tone, so he joked, "Well, I'm not gonna be able to forget that you're a girl, now that I've seen those!" She'd thrown a pillow at him, but she laughed, and the incident had been forgotten. Well, at least it wasn't mentioned. Despite deliberate efforts, Ron hadn't been able to forget the sight of Kim's breasts. He'd seen them before, of course, when Dr. Drakken's machine had switched their consciousnesses, seen everything in fact, but it had been like looking at himself naked. Not arousing at all, which wasn't surprising since he'd been working with the female hormones of a very heterosexual Kim Possible. Seeing them with his own eyes, while in his own body, was another story.

After the 'no top' incident Ron had thought, again, about asking Kim out on an official date, but had decided not to. Apart from the fact that he had trouble imagining her as a girlfriend, he was worried that taking their relationship in that direction might wreck their friendship, and that was something he knew neither of them wanted.

"Besides," he chuckled as he rummaged through the kitchenette for a pre-lunch snack, "We might end up there anyway, without any deliberate effort on our part." Even before the Moodulator incident he and Kim had been growing closer, if such a thing was possible, and their relationship had only deepened afterward. They already spent more time with each other than they did with any other people, even their respective girlfriends and boyfriends. Ron had actually lost a couple of girlfriends because they felt threatened by his relationship with Kim. One of them had walked into the apartment to find Kim and Ron sitting on the couch watching TV. No big deal, except Kim had been snuggled in Ron's arms at the time. That was a something that happened fairly often. In fact, it was getting to be a common, if quite enjoyable, occurrence. Anyway, the girl had freaked out and broke up with him right on the spot.

The shower stopped. A few minutes later Kim emerged, clad in a robe, with a towel around her hair.

"Your turn," she said before going into her room to dry her hair and get dressed.

"Yes ma'am," Ron said obediently. It was only after he got out of the shower that he realized he had forgotten to get his own bathrobe. He thought about asking Kim to get it for him, then decided not to bother. He strode out of the bathroom wearing a towel around his waist, his shoes and dirty clothes in his hands. Kim, who was watching TV, looked up briefly, then turned away without saying a word.

For some reason Ron found that a trifle disappointing.

Elsewhere, a short, plump woman with a bad hairdo sat watching, scarcely daring to breath, while a man in a dark red robe knelt before a large, black iron and leather bound book on a low table, chanting words the woman couldn't understand and moving small squares of ivory around. Her name was Amy McCarthy, but the world at large knew her as DNAmy, the insane genetic engineer. The man she was watching was much less well known. His name was Felix Faust and he was a wizard, or so DNAmy had been told. It had taken her a great deal of effort to track him down, and even more to get him to agree to see her, but once he had, he'd proven surprisingly amenable to her request.

The chanting stopped, and Faust straitened up. He gestured, and two servants approached, one to collect the tiles and book from the table, the other to help Faust to his feet.

"Well?" DNAmy asked, putting all the hope and anxiety she was feeling into the word.

"I was unable to contact him," Faust said simply, and DNAmy started to wail with despair. Started to, but Faust cut her off with a gesture. "But only because his soul hasn't crossed over to the other side."

"Wh-what?" DNAmy wasn't sure she really believe that Faust could contact the dead, but she was desperate enough to try anything.

"I found it in Cambodia, in an old, abandoned temple. It's in a statue of a monkey, along with a hundred or so others."

"Trapped?"

Faust frowned thoughtfully. "I don't believe so. I'll have to see the statue, of course, and do some research before I can be absolutely sure, but I'm confident I can get it out."

"And then..." DNAmy said, enthusiasm flooding into her voice.

"And then, when you have restored his body, and I have returned his soul to it, Monkey Fist will live again!"

"And vengeance will be mine!" DNAmy squealed. Faust smiled.

"Ours, dear lady," he corrected with a tolerant smile. Faust knew about Team Possible, but had never crossed paths with them, and so bore them no ill will. Supergirl was another matter, and when DNAmy had come to him for help in restoring her late beloved to life, as well as avenging herself on those who had slain him, and mentioned that the Girl of Steel was one of those responsible, Faust had leapt at the chance to assist her. They had yet to work out all of the details of their arrangement, but Faust was sure they would come to a mutually acceptable and beneficent accord. When they did, Supergirl would die, DNAmy and Monkey Fist would gain near godlike power and rule over the Earth, and Faust would move one step closer to his ultimate goal - unlocking the secret of life itself.