graycardinal | FIC: Favor For Favor

6 • A Girl Needs Her Hobbies

With the Tweebs away, supper at the Possible household was a quiet affair, and Mrs. Dr. Possible took the opportunity to fix cioppino – admittedly, the kind from a freezer bag, but still a meal with far too many throwable components to be safe when set before Jim and Tim. Afterward, Kim didn’t wait for her mother to ask before starting to clear the table and load the dishwasher. Her father, meanwhile, excused himself and disappeared into his study.

“Something on your mind, Kimmy?” Mom asked as she carried the good crystal glasses – also in use only because the twins were gone – over to the sink.

Kim reflected, not for the first time, that the nickname sounded infinitely nicer when her mother used it than when Shego did. “Unfortunately, yes,” she said. “Or rather, it’s going to be. Can you fit me in for a selective memory wipe tomorrow afternoon?”

Her mother stopped in her tracks, nearly dropping the glassware she was carrying. “You’re not serious, are you?” She set down the crystal, turned, and gave her daughter a critical looking-over. “No, you are serious. What’s going on? You haven’t gone anywhere since that business with Monkey Fist last weekend, and I didn’t think he went in for brain experiments.”

Kim sighed. “I haven’t, he doesn’t, and I’m all right. Now, anyway. But Shego’s got me in a bind, and the only way I can think of to get around it is to do what she wants and then have you – how did Wade put it? – wash my brain out with soap afterward.”

“Shego? Not Dr. Drakken?” Kim nodded, and to her surprise, so did her mother. “I can’t say I’m surprised. I’ve always thought she was four or five times brighter than Drew. More practical, too.”

“No argument there,” Kim said. “So you’ll help me?”

Mrs. Dr. Possible regarded Kim with a sympathetic expression, but she was shaking her head as she spoke. “I’m a brain surgeon, not a mad scientist. If I could do ‘selective memory wipes’ at the drop of a scalpel, I’d have customers lined up halfway to Nana’s apartment in Florida.”

Kim sagged into a chair at the kitchen table. “That’s it, then,” she said. “You were my last hole card. Oh, well, saving the world was fun while it lasted.”

Mom’s expression flashed from concerned to alarmed. “It can’t be that bad, can it? What exactly is it Shego wants?”

“It’s way past that bad,” Kim told her mother. “You might want to sit down for this.” Once Mom had obliged, she continued, “Shego’s looking for advice from me on skanky gay sex.”

Mom arched an eyebrow at her. “And why, Kimberly Ann Possible, would she think you were remotely qualified to give that sort of advice?”

Kim managed a weak chuckle. “Mom! The whole point is that I’m not qualified – yet, anyway – and Shego’s more or less offering me lessons.” She paused, processed what she’d said, and turned crimson. “All right, that came out really, really wrong.”

“I should hope so,” Mrs. Dr. Possible said firmly. “I think you’d better tell me the whole story. From the beginning.” She listened attentively as Kim spun out the details of the situation – translating bits of specialized fanfic dialect along the way – her expression shifting from surprised to thoughtful and finally to amused.

“And that’s it,” Kim said, concluding the summation. “I can’t give Shego her beta without – I don’t know, sacrificing my innocence sounds totally corny, but that’s kind of what it would be. But I can’t not give her the beta, because she’ll use that to trash my professional rep and play the embarrassment card for all it’s worth the next time we tangle. Probably with ninjas. It’s a win-win for her – and a lose-lose for me.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Mom was smiling faintly. “You sub-contracted the Ty Pennington job to Jim and Tim – all you need is someone to do the beta for you, and you’re off the hook.”

Kim eyed her mother with a puzzled look. “But who? Monique volunteered, but I turned her down – if it’s not safe for me to do it, it isn’t for her either. I don’t dare even think about mentioning this to Ron. And Wade’s way too young. Who else is there?”

Mom’s smile had turned vaguely Sphinx-like, and Kim’s muscles twitched as she finally took the hint. “You? But – but . . . .”

“Now, Kimmy,” said Mom, “don’t look so shocked. Your generation didn’t invent fanfic, you know – though we didn’t have the Web when I first started writing it, so we had to circulate the stories in printzines.”

Kim lifted a hand and pushed her jaw back up where it belonged. “You – wrote fanfic? For what?”

“Wrote?” Mom said. “Who says I ever stopped? A girl needs her hobbies, especially after those long shifts at the hospital.”

“Okay, you write fanfic,” said Kim, still dazed. “But . . . .”

Her mother came around the table and began massaging Kim’s shoulders. “You might not recognize a lot of the shows,” she said, sounding wistful. “Scarecrow & Mrs. King, Remington Steele – those were before your time. Simon & Simon after that, a few things for Walker, Texas Ranger – and I tell you, a lot of people are ready to lynch the writers after the ending of that new Walker movie last month. More recently, Pretender and lately Smallville.”

“Remington Steele?” Kim said. She felt calmer, but the concept of her mother writing fanfic was still sinking in. “So that’s why you bought those DVD sets.”

“Of course, dear,” replied her mother. “I had a major crush on Pierce Brosnan, and that show practically invented UST. Even if they did finally punt it out the window at the end – oops, you won’t have seen that yet, the third season set isn’t due out for a couple of months.”

Kim chuckled weakly. “This is majorly weird,” she observed. “You know Monique is going to completely flip out when I tell her. I can tell her, right?”

“I don’t see why not,” said Mrs. Dr. Possible. “We’ve probably been posting on the same Web boards for who knows how long now, anyway. You or Monique might even have read some of my stories – most of them are posted or archived under

braingirl.”

“That sounds familiar,” Kim said, frowning. “In fact – you’re on the Narbonic boards!”

“Guilty,” Mom admitted. “I swear, sometimes that strip seems like a field guide to your rogues’ gallery – but some of the fics! I am so not surprised that Shego writes Narbonic slash.” She sat down again. “Oh, my, yes – I’ll give her a beta she won’t forget. I assume you’ve got the story-file?”

Kim nodded, but didn’t move to get the Kimmunicator. “This feels – really strange, somehow. I mean, I’m not sure I wanted to know my mom writes fanfic. Especially – hot fanfic. I think it’s one of those Things Teenagers Are Not Meant To Know.”

Mom grinned. “Not to worry. The really mature stuff is under a different byline – and I’m not telling you that one. Yet, anyway.”

“Good,” Kim said. “Oh, and about that beta; be fair. After all, Shego’s a client now.” She laughed suddenly. “And who knows – maybe the fic is really well-written skanky gay sex!”

“I’ll believe that when I read it,” her mother retorted. “Now let’s see the file.”