A completely illogical crossover: Kim Possible and Assassin's Creed. Don't ask how I developed the idea, because I forgot.
Then the
Disclaimer:
The usual. I don't own:
Kim Possible
Assassin's Creed
Disney
Ubisoft
all the other copyright keepers/shows/games/etc. in this story I forgot to mention.
a long desired...whoops, I'm getting distracted.
Have fun.
I.
Desmond Miles was annoyed.
To be honest, 'annoyed' was an understatement. He had to move out of his earlier life, for reasons he did not particularly like.
At first, he had been abducted by an worldwide pharmaceutical company called Abstergo. So far, so bad. Then it was revealed to him that Abstergo actually was the modern Templar order chasing for world domination by using an artefact called 'Piece Of Eden' that could control anyone's mind. Of course they had to find it first...and that was the part where Desmond came in.
He was the descendant of an assassin, a perfect killer out of the Third Crusade called Altaïr, who once had had to do with said artefact and knew it's location. According to his abductors, the memories of an ancestor were encrypted in his descendant's DNA, and they had developed a machine to read these memories: the Animus. Desmond was forced to relive Altaïr's memories – and thanks to an occurance called Bleeding Effect, Desmond's personality slowly merged with Altaïr's. All in one week. Then Desmond's purpose was fulfilled, and he managed to escape from the lab. By doing that, his personality completely merged with Altaïr. This had been two weeks ago.
He was absolutely sure that he had to hide – or at least go somewhere else. As he wanted to cancel his current job as a bartender, he was told that with being absent unexcused for a whole week, he was fired. This way or another, he could go now, but for some reason he decided to try to find out more about Abstergo's plans – maybe he could inform the authorities before it was too late. After all, even if he didn't really care for other people, he didn't want to get brainwashed by a bunch of fanatic druggists. Recalling the information he had gathered at Abstergo, he remembered Lucy telling him about a department in Denver, where they stored similar artefacts. Given the fact that moving straight to Denver would be as well a present to Abstergo, Desmond decided to move only near to it. He then arranged a new job for himself, he still needed money, after all. And who could work everywhere, if not a bartender? As a result, Desmond Miles would soon be moving to Middleton, Colorado.
II.
„Hola, Clan Possible!" Ron Stoppable greeted as he strolled into the kitchen. Today, like every day, he would pick up his girlfriend, Kim Possible, and walk to school with her.
„Good morning, Ronald," Dr. Anne Possible replied. „Breakfast?" - „Not today, but thanks, Mrs. P," Ron answered. „We're gonna head straight to school. Where's Kim, by the way?" - „Still upstairs, I guess. She'll be coming down any second," Ann replied. Upon these words, steps on the stairway could be heard. Then Kim entered the kitchen.
„Sorry...the tweebs...my hairbrush...so the drama," she said, resting her forehead on her fingertips. „Never mind, Kimbo," Ron said as he gave her a quick peck – at least it started as one. „Better now?" he asked, grinning his trademark goofy grin. „Spankin'," Kim replied, also smiling.
From behind the omnipresent Examiner, James Possible could be heard mumbling something that sounded a lot like „black hole" and „seventeen-year-old male test pilot" into his coffee mug. „Dad!" Kim hissed. Ron's hand reached to scratch his neck. „Uhm...well...We gotta go. See you, Mr P., Mrs P." Hands intertwined, the two teens left the house.
III.
On his way home from an endurance run, Desmond silently cursed Abstergo for turning him into a bundle of deadly reflexes. At first, having Altaïr with him was kind of cool. His reflexes and the Eagle Vision really came in handy sometimes – and also his knowledge of Janna, the Assassins' version of martial arts. But the more annoying than useful effects were, for example, a strange urge to climb high buildings, immediately searching for escape routes if entering a room and overreactions to the smallest impulses.
Another result of the Bleeding Effect was Desmond's newly found fondness of assassin-like training exercises. And honestly, it's effects were quite welcome. Being already in better physical condition than most people, Desmond was now, after only two weeks, as able-bodied as Altaïr.
Taking two steps at a time up to his apartment, Desmond suddenly got cautious. He slowed down a bit and warily opened the door – only to find his home turned upside down.
Every single object seemed to be scattered across the floor. Wandering around, he found a cap with an all to familiar logo. Oh fuck. Abstergo. Desmond's brain switched into overdrive. They found me again. But what were they searching for? How did they even get in here? Then a more calm, more experienced part of him – a part out of the twelfth century – kicked in. Wait a minute. They aren't nearly dumb enough to leave a clue, and they want me, not my belongings. This is either a trap or a warning. Whatever it was, he was sure he had to get the hell out of there. Well then, off to Middleton – immediately.
IV.
Sitting in their history classroom, Kim and Ron waited for their history teacher, Mrs Perkins, to come in. As the door opened, not the elder, crow-like woman entered the room, but the semi-military form of Steven Barkin stepped in.
„Listen up, People! Mrs Perkins has unfortunately fallen ill, so today I will be substituting her. So, the Third Crusade spanned from 1189 to 1192..." - „Aw man, does this school even have any other teachers? Always it's Barkin!" Ron moaned. The former marine turned around. „I heard that, Stoppable! DETENTION!"
At the sight of her slumping boyfriend, Kim handed him a small note. Bueno Nacho, after school? Ron smiled warmly at her. It seemed like today would, nevertheless, turn out good.
V.
Seeing that his beloved motorcycle was still in one piece, Desmond was relieved. If anything had happened to his white godess... He tied down his backpack and sat onto the machine. Middleton, I'm on my way. Desmond started the engine.
VI.
Finally getting out of detention, Ron saw Kim sitting on the stairs. „You've been waiting for me all the time?" he asked.
Kim stood up and embraced him. „You know, I need to get my RDA of Ronshine." Ron smiled. „So, you still up for a naco?" - „Let's go," Kim responded, taking his hand. As they walked down the street, they saw a racy white motorcycle approaching.
„Aw man!" Ron shouted as it bolted past them. „Nice bike! If only my scooter..." Kim elbowed him, smiling teasingly. „Come on, Biker Boy. Get your eyes back into your head." - „Well, Kimbo, it's not like I can," he said, a goofy grin spreading on his face.
„I mean, you're still here. So, with you in sight, why should I care about some run-down motorbike?" Ron didn't know how lucky he was that Desmond was already three blocks further.
VII.
While the teenage couple was heading to it's date and the bike-riding bartender was searching for an acommodation, a certain green-hued woman was annoyed to no end.
„Geez, Dr. D., knock it off! I'll steal your transdimensional time thingie somewhen else, alright?" Shego shouted.
„But I need it now, Shego! And it's called a trandimensional space-time manipulator!" Drakken shouted back. Then he fell into rant mode.
„Once I have it, nobody can stop me from taking over the world! All you need to do is..." - „...sneak into the secret lab, steal your toy, get back here and then get foiled by Princess. Not today, Doc. I take the rest of the day off," Shego interrupted him.
What she didn't tell Drakken was that she had a date this night. Unfortunately in Middleton. And while she could very well steal the object in time, she didn't want Kimmie to mess with her plans. Here musings were suddenly interrupted by Drakken.
„Day off? But why? No! I need the transdimensional space-time manipulator right..." he began. „Shut UP!" Shego yelled, firing green plasma bolts at him. All Drakken could muster was a strategic withdrawal by running across the lair like a mad chicken.
VIII.
„What was your name again, Sir?" the desk clergyman asked.
„Lucas Kane," Desmond responded. He was sure that using his own name here would be not really intelligent. Screw you, Abstergo.
After signing, Desmond took the steps to his room. The motel he was in wasn't exactly four-stars-worthy, but it would do for the near future.
„Excuse me, do you know where 'Arty's' is?" Desmond asked the receptionist who responded by arching an eyebrow. „Of course, Sir. Just head down the street, take the third left arm and you'll see it," he said. „But don't you think it's a little early..." he began.
„I know that, smartass, I'm a bartender," Desmond snarled. Not giving the concierge any opportunity to ask further questions, he vanished through the door.
Not short after, Desmond began to run. Not because he was in a hurry, just out of boredom. While sprinting towards his destiny, he took in the view of the city. You'd see much more if you'd get on a view point. He chuckled quietly. Hell yeah. I'm about to get a job, and now my ancestor part wants me to play assassin. Interestingly, Desmond didn't find the thought disturbing. If this is the Bleeding Effect and I'm really going nuts, I can imagine worse.
Soon he found the bar he had been employed at - and, in addition, it was a quite nice and modern one. As he entered the bar, the owner, a small, corpulent, balding man, approached him.
„Who are you and what do you want?" he barked. „I don't buy or donate anything!" - „My name's Lucas Kane, and I'm the new bartender, Sir," Desmond responded, barely holding back a snarky riposte. If you want banter, I'll give you banter.
The midget scratched his head. „I see. Well, welcome at Arty's, Lucas. I'm Arty. Good thing you're already here, boy, I need a new bartender right now. The old one decided to...quit a few days earlier than planned," he said biliously.
„Nice coincidence.," Desmond replied. „So, Arty, I assume I can start today?" he asked. „Exactly. Come here about seven," Arty answered. „I'll pay you 35 bucks an hour, tip is all yours."
„Alright. Anything more I should know?" Desmond asked. „Well, that's about it...Just be here on time. See ya, Lucas." - „Alright. See ya, Arty," Desmond answered.
Well, seems like we're on the same wavelength, Mister, he thought as he walked back to his motel.
For the first time in three weeks, Desmond Miles was really content.
IX.
Kim and Ron had just taken their seats at Bueno Nacho when the Kimmunicator rang. „What's the sitch, Wade?" Kim asked.
„There's a robbery going on at the Go City Museum Of History," the young genius explained. „Seems to be Monkey Fist. Oh, and your ride should be there in five. See ya." - „You rock, Wade," Kim said. She got up and grabbed Ron's hand. „We're on our way."
X.
„Obtaining this scroll will lead me to the temple of the Illusion Monkey!" the simianized nobleman shouted. „With this artefact, I shall become-" „The Monkey Master? Come on. How 'bout a new idea?" - „The teenagers? You shouldn't have come here...Monkey Ninjas, attack!" he shouted.
Immediately the martial-arts-trained simians were jumping at Kim and Ron. While they were fighting them off, Monkey Fist approached the showcase that the scroll was in. Just as he was about to break the glass, Kim leaped at him. „It's not gonna be this easy, Monkey Man!" she shouted.
„Oh well, Miss Possible...I think it indeed will," he said calmly. „Get her!" With that, two of his minions jumped away from Ron and towards Kim, instantly engaging her in another fight.
Monkey Fist used this opportunity, and soon held the scroll in his hands. „So then...Farewell, Team Possible!" He and his monkey ninjas escaped through the glass dome above them, leaving Kim and Ron behind.
XI.
Desmond was in his element. Pouring drinks, wheedling one-sided conversations out of barflies...he loved it. And while he was juggling the bottles, he still had time to think about his actions concerning Abstergo. Tomorrow, he'd drive to the Denver facility and look what info he could get on their latest activities. And then...Whoahoh, who's this?
Shego looked around in the bar. She knew that she was a little early, so she wasn't surprised not to see her date. She took a seat at the counter. „What can I get you, lady?" a voice asked. She looked up and saw the bartender, a young man, about her age, short, black hair, brown eyes. And was that a scar on the side of his mouth? „Em...Nothing yet, thank you. I'm just waiting for someone," she answered. „Alright then. Just say so if you change your mind," the barman said, walking to the next waiting customer. Shego found herself looking at him with more admiration than she wanted to admit. Not only that he wasn't exactly ugly, his movements showed a certain elegance. Whoah, don't get distracted. You're waiting for a date here. If only he'd show up...
Desmond could barely keep his eyes from her. And not only that the lady was quite...good-looking, something about her was interesting. Maybe the pale green complexion...or was this just the light? He was sure to keep an eye on her. Well, how 'bout an eagle's eye? With a blink he switched on the Eagle Vision – and was surprised by the blue aura surrounding her. An ally? Nice.
Shego got nervous. Not that she expected her date to be perfectly on time, but twenty minutes were a bit long. Heck, why not have a drink? She waved for the bartender.
„Yes, lady? Want a drink?" - „A Caipirinha, please," Shego answered. She watched the barman mixing the drink; again she was amazed by his dexterity and coordination. This guy definitely was beyond average.
„One Caipirinha," he said, pushing the glass towards Shego, „Cheers!" - „Cheers."
Desmond looked around and noticed that every guest was provided. Alright, why not talk to her? He walked over to the lady. „So, still waiting for your someone?"
Shego looked up from her glass and saw the bartender standing in front of her. „Mind your own business, boy," she snapped. „Guess what I'm doing here?" responded the barkeeper.
„Oh, I'm into riddles...how about...annoying me?" Shego replied overly sweet, her voice getting biting with the last words.
„Alright, simple reaction chain: lady in green comes in, bartender sees lady, lady seems to be bothered by something, bartender tries to do his job – making people feel happy - and be interested in the lady's problem. As much for minding my own business, lady," Desmond spat.
„Then just leave me the hell alone," Shego hissed. „Got that?"
„Well, seems like you're going to be unbelievably happy tonight," Desmond deadpanned and left for the other end of the bar.
Shego was fuming. Not only that her date didn't show up, now a insolent bartender thought he had to be lippy. Even worse, he seemed to have beaten her in her own sarcastic territory.
Shego would strike back.
XII.
„Hi, Mom! Hi, Dad!" Kim greeted as she entered the living room.
„Hi, Kimmie," her mother responded. „Had a mission?"
„Yes. Monkey Fist tried to..." Kim started. Then she noticed the worried looks on her parents' faces.
„What's wrong?" she asked.
„Nothing," her mother answered – way too fast.
„Mom..."
„Alright, alright. Just some trouble at the hospital."
„Really? Tell me, what's going on?"
Kim's mother squirmed. „Well, do you know that giant pharmaceutic concern? Abstergo Industries?"
„Kind of...they're the market leader in pharmaceutics, aren't they?" Kim responded.
„Exactly. And they virtually bought the hospital," her mother said.
„What? But how does that work? I mean, it's governmental, isn't it?" Kim asked.
„Well, they agreed on a sponsorship, but only under the condition that they get the majority in the board of directors." Mrs P. shook her head slightly. „They plan to make an official announcement by next week, but they already informed the staff. 'Changes will be made' and such slogans."
Putting this information and the her parents' expressions together, Kim gasped. „Mom, have you been fired?"
„Oh no, honey. It's just... I heard about their plans. Clinical trials, new medicaments, new treatment methods..."
„Well, that doesn't sound too bad then, right? It's going to help people," Kim said. Her mother shrugged.
„As it seems. But I have a bad feeling about this..."
TBC...
AN: Not a really good ending for an chapter, but I wanted to upload it, otherwise I'd never write actually a second chapter, only small bits – this way I really have to develop the story further.
So, maybe I can give you a little preview on what I plan:
More Desmond vs. Shego banter (and maybe something more), an unexpected gift for Desmond which leads to interesting consequences, more missions for Kim and Ron and Abstergo will act, too.
We'll see how long that chapter takes.