I in no way profit from these writings. Kim Possible and assorted cast are the property of Walt Disney. The following fan fiction in no way reflects Disney's original intent nor its intended characterization of any of the parties, real or fictional, that are contained in this story.

This story is rated a hard M for language, adult situations and descriptions suitable for adult readers only.

While hitting a block on my other stories I started paying around with an old idea of mine and came up with this. I'd appreciate your comments and ideas on whether the story is worth continuing. I kind of like it but… well, it's my idea.

Now that you have been warned… please read and enjoy. R&R appreciated.

The Wanderer

By: obbiejoe

Chapter 1: The Wanderer

As he walked the streets in search of his contact he noticed that the town had defiantly seen better days. Every shop or home he had passed was in desperate need of a coat of paint, and a thorough cleaning wouldn't hurt either.

He had seen several boarded up buildings and very few people. At the edge of town had been a sign that boasted of a population of more than ten thousand, the sign was apparently several years out of date. He calculated from what he had seen that the population was most likely closer to two thousand, and he was seldom wrong in his estimates.

But even at two thousand this was the largest concentration of people he had been around in close to five years. He had been wandering for close to ten years now, since he had no where he really needed, or wanted, to be he had keep himself sane by providing his services to those in need of his special talents.

Living off the land as he did, most of the time he simply performed his service and left knowing that those most in need of his talents were most often those that could not afford to pay for them. A meal or two and a place to stay while he was 'working' were most often the total extent of any payment he expected or received.

He did collect payment when those he helped could afford it, but most often he used what he collected to support others as his wandering went on.

Most people, if asked, would tell you that he drifted aimlessly. That he never really had a destination in mind. That was very close to the truth, but his wandering course somehow unerringly to lead him to those most in need. Very few knew why and almost none were aware of how he did what he did, but to those he supplied his 'services' to his presence was looked upon as a godsend. To those who were causing the problems he 'corrected' he seemed sent by the devil himself.

Ten years ago services like those he rendered were not needed, Ten tears ago there was law, ten years ago there was order, ten years ago… he was in love and, for a time, a very short time, he had known he was loved in return.

That all changed two days before the day people referred to now as 'The Day of the Diablo's' Very few people even remembered that the first attack had been four days previous, even fewer remembered the short pudgy blond boy that had been part of the team that had defeated the first wave of the attack. As horrific as it had been no one really thought much about that first wave at all. It was what happened four days later that everyone remembered, that was the day the world changed.

For him, it had changed two days before that devastating day of destruction, when everything he had hoped for, everything he loved and thought was now within his grasp, was torn away from him in one night.

The Wanderer set aside his thoughts when he spotted the man he was looking for. He was hiding in the shadows of an old bakery and evidently thought he was undetectable, and to anyone else he would have been.

Sliding silently into the shadows himself the Wanderer checked the area to assure himself that not only was his contact alone he was also what he was purported to be. Many times in the past those he fought against had attempted to lure him into a trap. They had never succeeded and had lost more than a few of their numbers in their misguided attempts.

When he was sure that this was a legitimate contact the Wanderer 'introduced' himself. His introductions varied and had been known to spoil a few pairs of pants. Completely unseen by the waiting contact, even though he was keeping a sharp eye out for any trouble, he slid noiselessly behind him and clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle any unwanted sounds his unexpected appearance may produce.

When he had the contacts attention, and he was sure he did, he whispered the first half of the pass code he had arranged. "Lotus" was whispered into the waiting contacts ear just as the hand covering his mouth was removed. After a quick breath there was a whisper in return "Bloom"

Satisfied that he had the right man the Wanderer pulled back into the deeper shadows. "I hear you have a problem."

The man turned and swallowed nervously. The dark form before him was exactly as he had been described, tall, of indeterminate age with a pair of old style colt 45's strapped to his hips. But what really convinced the man he was meeting the right person was what was strapped on his back.

With the black leather hilt just visible above his left shoulder was what he was sure was the sleek and deadly sword that he had been hearing about for almost eight years. The sword that he had heard was supposedly the wanderer's weapon of choice.

Nervously the man stammered out, "A…are y…you the Ch... Chosen One?"

The Wanderers eyes narrowed, he hadn't heard that title for close to eight years, not since he left Yamanochi. As far as he knew no one here in the States even knew that title, let alone that it was his.

The voice coming from the darkness sounded dangerous, "Where did you hear that?" The man didn't even see the tall stranger move, one moment the sword was strapped to his back, the next he felt the sharp blade at his throat. "And I better like your answer."

The contacts eyes opened wide in fear. "She told me… honest to God… she said that was what I should call you."

The blade moved a bit closer to the contacts throat, almost cutting the skin. "Who is this 'she' you are you referring to? Is she a local?"

With wide eyes the contact spoke quickly but quietly, "No… we'd never seen her until a few weeks ago, she was the one who asked us to contact you."

The blade moved away from the contacts throat, but not to far away. "What does this girl look like? And why didn't she come herself?"

A bit more relaxed now that he could no longer feel the cold steel at his throat the man whispered back, "She's an oriental girl, short black hair. She has a scar on her left cheek. She couldn't come to meet you because she has a broken leg. It happened in the last attack six days ago."

The blade was suddenly on the tall strangers back again without the contact seeing any movement at all. "Take me to her. We'll talk there."

Ten minutes later the contact was knocking a strange combination of short knocks and pauses on a basement door six blocks away from where they had started. He looked around and was startled when the stranger appeared as if by magic. He hadn't seen him once since they left the shadows of the bakery. The contact had stopped once thinking the stranger was no longer following him when a voice came from the shadows, "Keep going, I'm still here."

Entering the basement the stranger spoke first, "Where is she."

The woman who answered the door took one look at the eyes of the stranger and then to the other man, when the man softly called out, "The oriental girl." she pointed to curtain at the back of the room.

Walking to the curtain the stranger pulled it aside and looked in the adjoining room before entering. There was a slim form lying on a cot against one wall. Even in the dim light the stranger recognized the form immediately. "Yori" was all the others heard as the tall dark clad man made his way into the room.

They saw his eyes scan the room as she walked to the cot. Apparently satisfied that there was no immediate danger the man removed his hat and knelt beside the cot.

As soon as his hat was removed the woman gasped slightly. The shock or unkempt blonde hair and boyish face made the stranger look no older than her own son yet the stories that had been circulating for the last eight or nine years described a whirlwind of death and destruction who neither asked for, nor gave mercy.

There was compassion in the large brown eyes that looked down on the girl on the cot. Then his hands reached out and hovered about six inches over her body as they moved across her from head to toe.

Once the circuit was complete the woman saw his hand return to the exact spot where she had, three days ago, set and splinted the girl's broken leg. The stranger zeroed in on it immediately even though there was a blanket hiding the splint.

She saw the young man close his eyes for a moment but when he opened them the brown eyes had disappeared and in their place were swirling blue orbs that seemed to glow.

As everyone in the room watched in shock the stranger placed his hands on the girl's leg and the glow that was seen in his eyes formed around his hands.

The shock in the room was evident by the silence. It wasn't even three seconds before the stranger removed his hands and the glow faded from both his hands and his eyes.

Three seconds after that the oriental girl, who had been sleeping fitfully for the last three days opened her eyes. As soon as she saw the blonde stranger leaning over her she smiled, "Stoppable-sama. You have come."

Everyone saw a smile grow on the previously stoic face, "If I had know it was you I would have been here sooner Yori."

Then the blonde stranger flipped the blanket off the girl's leg and started unwinding the bindings that held the splint together.

The woman in the room moved quickly and placed her hands on the strangers, "You can't do that. This girl has a broken leg. You're going to aggravate the injury."

The stranger looked up at the woman and smiled a half smile that the woman found strangely appealing. "I think if you take a look you'll see she's fine. She can move around on her own as soon as we get this splint off."

The woman saw the man continue to smile at her but he was no longer trying to unwind the bindings. Curious the woman carefully removed the bandage covering the injury expecting to see the torn flesh she had just re-bandaged less than two hours ago.

As the last of the bandage was removed the woman gasped, all she saw was unblemished skin where two hours ago was a wound that should have taken almost a month to even heal properly.

As she stared wide eyed at the area she heard the young girl speak, "If the Chosen One has indicated that I am no longer injured than I promise you, I am not. The Chosen one has never lied to my knowledge. I believe he is incapable lying even if he wished too do so."

While the woman continued unwinding the bandages she heard the soft voice if the stranger, "I don't deserve that title anymore Yori. I've had to do things that make me unworthy of such a title."

The woman heard the sorrow and compassion in the voice and instantly revised the estimate she had reached after hearing all the stories. This was not a man who killed lightly or without feeling as she had heard.

Yori's soft response was heard clearly in the quite of the room, "It is not the title that makes the man Ron-sama. It is the man who makes the title and we at Yamanochi feel privileged at the small part we have played in guiding you along the path to becoming the man you have become. The true Chosen One."

Then the voice of the Wanderer took on a timber of resolve, "Why are you here Yori? Why here? Why now?"

She saw the young oriental girl reach out and gently place her hand on the arm of the stranger, "I was sent Ron-sama. Sensei sent me because we have reports that the Vanguard is headed here."

Everyone in the room watched as the strangers eyes once again flared with blue fire. The voice that they heard next was deeper, stronger and menacing. "The Vanguard? Here?"

Yori sat up on the cot, "Yes Ron-sama. That is why I asked they send for you."

Everyone in the room watched as the blonde stranger rose quickly to his feet. The room seemed filled with energy as the stranger spoke, "Will he be here Yori?"

Before Yori could answer a man stood and spoke quickly, "I'm Bob Hummel, I guess I'm kind of the leader around here. What exactly is this Vanguard thing?"

The stranger turned to look at him, "Your worst nightmare Bob. It's the elite of the elite. The Vanguard is Drakken's private little army within an army. It's the group he sends out to eliminate you if you've become a threat. What I can't figure out is why he's sending them here?"

Yori spoke up quickly. "We believe it is because her parents and brothers have taken refuge near here Ron-sama. We believe he plans to capture them and execute them in front of her."

Everyone watched as the Wanderer who the oriental girl kept referring to as Ron-sama, Stoppable-sama or the Chosen One turned to look at the girl that now knew as Yori. They all took one step backward as a blue aura sparked into existence and surrounded the Wanderer.

When his voice reached their ears again they heard the menace in his voice again but much stronger than before. "What do you mean in front of her? She's dead Yori, I saw the body myself before they… they…"

Even Yori was not immune to the fear of seeing Ron as he was now and she cowered a bit further onto the cot, "Ron-sama please. In the last three weeks we have discovered that the body you saw was a decoy and that the Emperor has kept her secretly imprisoned as a trophy and slave."

Bob got up enough courage to step forward again, "Hold up a second, who is this 'HER' you keep referring to?"

The Wanderer, still surrounded with the writhing blue aura, turned to look at Bob. Bob took a small step backward but maintained his gaze. The aura paled slightly and the Wanderers voice was a bit less frightening when he answered, "She's referring to Kim Possible Bob. I'm sure you remember her don't you?"

There was a sudden intake of breath in the room when the Wanderer spoke the name. It was the woman who spoke first, "Kim Possible? I thought she was dead?"

The Wanderer turned to look at the woman, "So did I ma'am, so did I." Then his gaze returned to Yori, "Are you sure Yori? Who told you she was still alive?"

Instead of answering Yori reached down to a small rucksack next to the cot and rummaged through it for a moment until she produced a turquoise device that looked like and old MP3 player. She held it out to the Wanderer with a gesture of respect.

Everyone in the room saw the swirling blue aura disappear as soon as the device was brought into view. The Wanderer reached out toward the device slowly as if deciding whether he should touch it or not.

Yori watched Ron reach for the Kimmunicator in her hand but saw his hand stop inches away as his eyes sought out hers with a clear question written on his features.

Without hesitation Yori raised her eyes to the blonde warrior, "Yes Ron-sama, he is alive. He contacted us three weeks ago after trying to track you down and contact you."

Everyone watched as a small smile was seen on the stranger's face, the first they had seen since he arrived. They heard a quiet 'BEEP' as he pressed one button on the device. Moments later a tinny voice issued from a small speaker. "Hold on Yori, I think I have a track on Ron. He was seen a few miles…"

The voice stopped suddenly and a silence was cast over the room for a moment before the voice sounded again in an excited tone. "HOLY SHIT! RON! YORI FOUND YOU!"

Ron's smile widened at the tone of the voice emanating from the device he was holding. "Better watch your language Wadester, there are ladies present."

The voice softened but the excitement was still evident, "My God Ron, I've been trying to track you down for weeks. Ever since I figured out how to get around Drakken's jamming signals and wormed my way into his surveillance satellites. Thank God Yori found you, I've got news you are defiantly going to want to hear."

When the stranger spoke again it was if he had shed years of his life, the voice sounded more attune to his apparent years than the tone he had been using before. "Wade! Yori said there's a chance that Kim's still alive. Is that true?"

The voice answered immediately, "More than a chance Ron. It's a fact. I saw her myself."

The stranger's voice took on an excited tone now, "Where Wade? When?"

The answer brought a smile to the strangers face again, "The last time I spoke to her was about a month ago Ron, just before I was able to escape. She's waiting for you Ron. Her last words to me were, 'Find Ron and tell him to get his head in the game and get me the hell out of here.'"

The stranger's voice was almost cheerful, "Just point me in the right direction Wade. I'll do the rest."

The tinny answer was quick in coming, "From what I've been able to get from Drakken's systems she's with the Vanguard Ron. Kim's mom and dad are somewhere close to where you are now and that's where they are headed. They want to… to… they want to kill them Ron, all of them and they want Kim to watch."

Shockingly the stranger smiled, "Yea, Yori told me about that. That is so not gonna happen Wade, not on my watch. Where exactly are they Wade? Kim's mom and dad I mean."

The voice sounded again with the clear sound of clicking in the background, "I can't tell for sure Ron. Somewhere Northeast of you, a few miles at most but Jim and Tim must be cloaking them somehow, I can't get a solid lock."

Ron looked over at Bob, "Hey Bob? Is there anywhere northeast of here where someone could hide? A cave? Anything?"

Bob looked over at Ron, "Well, there's an old mine a few miles in that direction. It's been played out for years but I think there are still a couple of outbuildings standing. And of course there's the mine itself."

Everyone in the room watched as Ron turned to face the northeast before raising his hand palm outward. That strange glow enveloped his hand for a moment before a wide smile appeared on his face. "Got em."

Then Ron raised the strange turquoise device again, "I know where the Possible's are Wade. How far away is the Vanguard?"

The clicking sound resumed before the tinny voice answered, "Even if they don't stop and make camp the next few nights the full force is still almost three days away Ron. But there is a small party a lot closer. It looks like only three but they'll be coming close by mid morning tomorrow."

Ron's smile widened. "You wouldn't happen to be able to tell if Mr. Perfect is in that advance group would you Wade?"

Everyone in the room heard the humor in the answer, "As a matter of fact I can Ron. The advance party is just him and a couple of battle droids."

Ron's smile took on a sinister look as he turned to look at Yori, "Hey Yori, you feel well enough for a little fun?"

The normally quite and reserved young Japanese girl snickered as she slid from the cot and bowed to the stranger. "It would be my honor to join the Chosen One for his… fun."

Bob stepped forward boldly, "How many of us do you want to go with you."

The smile on the face of the young man widened, "None Bob. I need you guys to hunker down here and get ready to receive some guests."

Bob looked incredulous, "But according to what I just heard there were a couple of battle droids coming. You can't possible expect to take on two of those monstrosities by yourself, I've seen them in action."

The strangers smile widened as his hand came up and he gently touched the hilt of the sword strapped to his back, "I won't be alone Bob. I've got a little help of my own."

To be continued? with – "Meeting Mr. Perfect"

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