I do not own any Disney characters named herein, and am only borrowing them for a tale meant for entertainment purposes only.
Kim Possible: Model Hero
By LJ58
1
"You're kidding," Kim asked not for the first time since they had walked into the office. "Please, tell me you are kidding?"
"Do I sound like I'm joking," the family lawyer asked grimly. "You crashed the wrong venue this time, young lady. The set designers, security, the fashion designers, and even the backers are all in this one together. Needless to say, they want remunerations in the amount of five hundred thousand."
"Dollars?"
"Euros," the man told Kim.
"For a dress? Besides, I stopped Camille from stealing….."
"A twenty thousand dollar necklace. But in the process you destroyed fifty grand worth of backdrop. Shredded a two-hundred thousand dollar designer original. And in their minds, cost them incalculable profits by disrupting the fashion exhibition of the year."
"They seemed to have calculated their profits well enough," Ann grumbled.
"In my day….."
"Not now, dear," the redheaded neurosurgeon sighed. "Ben," she turned to the lawyer. "What kind of settlement are we looking at here? I'm assuming they've something in mind if they're not already dragging us to court?"
"Yes, but you might not like it. Especially you, Kimberly," he told her.
"Me," Kim squeaked. "Uh, do I want to know?"
"They're willing to forego any lawsuits, and let you repay them without undue adverse publicity, if…"
"If," all three Possibles asked.
"If Kimberly agrees to work exclusively for Euro-Designs until such time as a percentage of her earnings repay the full amount they're demanding."
"I can't just owe them a really big favor," Kim grimaced, not even capable of imaging what kind of work she was expected to do for them.
"Fashion designers are…..different from most people. They don't deal in favors, Kimberly," Ben Dunn told her. "Honestly, I have to tell you, this is actually a very attractive offer. They only demand one-third of your contracted salary for repayment if you work for them, which still leaves you with a very lucrative contract….."
"Contract? I have to sign a contract just to repay them?"
"As I said," the lawyer told her. "They don't trade on favors, or on trust. It's all contracts, or cash with these people."
Kim sighed. "Mom?"
"Frankly, sweetie, I can't see how else we're going to manage this one. Not without selling the house, and most of our stocks. We just don't have that much ready cash," Anne said with a strained expression.
"Not in this economy," Dr. James Possible grumbled.
"So, what about my schooling? I've still got a few months left, and then there's my college plans….."
"You'd be given tutors, of course. To ensure you complete your education. But for the first year, at least, you'd be on constant call, and likely be traveling….. Ah, well, at least as much as you do now. Only it would be for fashion shows. Photo shoots. Things like that."
"And my missions? Saving the world? What if I'm needed," she protested.
"Paragraph nineteen, subsection three-c," Ben slid the contract over to let her look at it.
"They're kidding," she scowled, eyeing the section that allowed genuine global threats to supersede her contract's demands, but that any local, or civil matters would be left to the usual authorities, or other heroes. "They can't do this….."
"Do you have five-hundred thousand euros, Miss Possible," Ben asked her bluntly.
"Well….. No," she muttered sourly, glaring at the thick contract as if it were something evil.
"Then, yes. They can. And as you're technically an emancipated teen, and considered an adult in the eyes of the world, and the law, they can even put you in jail if you don't fulfill the contract's terms, or repay them in some other timely manner."
"Jail," Kim squeaked.
"Jail," the family lawyer nodded firmly.
"How long," James asked quietly, and gained a hard elbow from his wife.
"Just so you know? It would be a felony charge for assault, trespassing, and several related charges. Since she was technically operating as an unlicensed vigilante at the time, she could be facing a minimum of ten years."
"Ten….years," Kim paled.
"Minimum," the lawyer added.
"For stopping a loopy thief?"
"The fashion world has its own laws, and protocols," Ben told her. "Unions aside, they make enough even in this economy that they can make demands that even local courts have to hear. Perhaps you've heard of Kalvina Kludd, Cocoa Banana, Pierre-Pierre….?"
"Yeah," she sighed. "I know. Big names. Big labels."
"With big budgets, and bigger lawyers. Damages aside, they feel you snubbed, and upstaged their show. Then you also 'modeled' without a legitimate contract, which, by the way, they feel you also embarrassed their profession in the doing."
"The guy begged me to do it," she complained.
"One local director does not trump a boardroom full of angry stockholders," Ben told her. "And the unlicensed modeling is a whole other ballgame with their unions. Frankly, Kimberly, the contract is your best, and likely only way out of a very, very deep hole."
"But I don't want to be a model."
"You'd rather be a convict," he asked.
"No," she groaned, and dropped her head on the table. Banging it twice before her mother slid a hand under her brow.
"Sweetie, look at it this way. It's a chance to see another way of life. And you still get to travel, and save the world. It's just….You'd be paid in the meantime."
"But what about Ron, mom? This thing says I can't let personal friends travel with me, or even see me when backstage. Which pretty much ensures I'm not going to be seeing anyone I know while I'm off pedaling their stupid dresses."
"Uh, I wouldn't put it that way," Ben hushed her. "Especially in public."
"Honey, even models don't work nonstop," Ann told her. "I'm sure you'd still have time off. Frankly, Mr. Dunn's right. I don't really see another way out of this for us just now. At least they are willing to work with us. And it sounds as if they will treat you fairly if they're only garnishing a third of your income."
"Which, I can assure you, can become quite a profitable wage if you actually become popular enough. In fact, I can assure you, that your first appearance will be shoring up the tentative ploy to sell your, ah, gate-crashing as a staged publicity gimmick to sell your joining the Euro-Designs line."
"Goody," Kim muttered.
Ben sighed. "Kim. I really am trying to be honest here. You can sign this contract, and walk out of here a model for an international fashion designer, or….."
Kim looked up at him again, face grim.
"Or you can go to jail by the end of the week, and likely be there for a very long time."
She dropped her head again, banging it hard.
"Fine. I'll sign," she groaned. "But don't blame me if someone blows up the world while I'm imitating brain-dead posers."
"You're doing the right thing, Kimberly," Ben told her, and smiled at her parents as he pushed a pen into her hand. "And it's only a five year contract. By the time you pay off the debt, if you're smart with your savings, you could still have more than enough to attend any college you want."
Kim sat up, saying nothing, and just signed the lines where he pointed.
"Now I know how Faust felt," she grumbled.
The lawyer only smiled as her parents smiled supportively, telling her, "I'm sure this isn't going to be that bad."
"Maybe not for you," she muttered sourly.
KP
"The one thing I still don't get," Kim remarked as she met with the agent assigned her that would be handling her initial assignments. "If I'm just working to repay a debt, why did I have to sign a long-term contract? A five year contract," she demanded of the man who was going to be ordering her life for the foreseeable future. A man who sat smugly with the company lawyers just grinning at her. All five of the lawyers just glared at her.
"The contract protects both of us," the man told her. "The company, and you. We get our money, and our esteem restored. You get a fair income, while lawfully repaying the loss of revenue you caused. Now, in four days we need to have you ready, and looking sleek and presentably marketable for your first appearance. Have you ever heard of Glitz?"
"Uh, isn't that like a Broadway show?"
The lean, tanned man in a fashionably casual suit sighed.
"Just as well. Anyway, they are your first major sponsor. Major bucks, so you're lucky. You'll be guaranteed a decent exposure, and profit from the start. Pick up a few more like them, and you'll be in gravy before you know it."
"So…..I'm going to model for these guys first?"
"After a fashion. First, we're having a special press conference. I've been assured you're no wallflower, and don't mind public speaking, so we'll work on a suitable speech, get you an appropriate makeover and wardrobe. Then once we do a little modest meet-and-greet after the interview, it's off to Milan to meet Pierre-Pierre, and then….. Work, work, work," he grinned. "So, are you ready?"
"Do I have a choice," she growled.
"You know, a lot of girls would love to be in your place?"
"Blackmailed by a major fashionista," Kim asked blatantly.
"Cute. I'd better write your speech for the interview this Friday," William Deedle told her.
"If it's an interview…..?"
"It's on Carlotta, Live!," he informed her. "And you'll be giving a little teaser of Pierre-Pierre's new line they didn't get to unveil at the party you crashed."
"Why can't I just wear…..?"
"Oh, no, no, no," the man said as the lawyers simply sat, and listened to everything. "For one thing, your usual wardrobe consists of horrendous fashion choices, and most of those are from that pretender Cocoa Banana. You might as well be wearing Smarty-Mart knock-offs."
Kim blushed.
"I didn't think my clothes were that bad," she sputtered, looking down at the peach top she wore with light tan slacks.
"Please. Leave the fashion to the experts, Kimmie," Deedle called her. "Besides, as I said, you'll be repping Pierre-Pierre now. And only Pierre-Pierre. Women would kill to wear his originals. And that is the attitude you must sell."
"Fine. Maybe you had better write the speech. The only way I know to speak is by being honest."
"Perfect. Use that when you read the speech. And don't worry. I'll be guiding you every step of the way. Hair. Makeup. Fashion. By the end of the week, you won't even recognize yourself," he promised her.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Kim muttered dourly.
"It won't be that bad. Once you get your feet wet, I'll bet you'll even enjoy yourself. Most girls do."
"I'm not most girls," Kim muttered.
"No," William Deedle grinned. "You're Euro-Designs' newest fashion model."
Kim's expression was not that cheerful.
"Smile, Kimmie. Smile. You'll get to like it. Trust me."
"Wanna bet," she muttered just soft enough to go unheard. Still, it seemed like every one of those lawyers still sifting the signed papers paused to look her way.
KP
Bonnie Rockwaller heard her sister's screech as she walked out of the bedroom, her homework finally done, and a few new ideas for the squad in her mind after Kim's latest mysterious disappearing act left them dangling. Again.
She was going to push to replace the annoying redhead for good this time. You'd think as a senior the girl would have finally put that whole 'saving the world' nonsense behind her, and stepped up. No, she had to actually escalate, running off every time someone stole an ice cream, or something silly like that.
"What's wrong with Lonnie now? Someone steal her makeup cart," Bonnie asked Connie as she came into the living room where her very vain sister was staring at the television with a look of horror etched into her usually pretty features.
"That… That…. Nobody! She stole my spot! I was a shoe-in for Pierre-Pierre's new lineup, and that…..creature stole it! It's not faaaaaiiiiiirrrrrr," her sister wailed as Bonnie only now focused on the television, and stood gaping as she saw the familiar redhead standing, and obviously posing before a very appreciative audience in a very snug, green silk concoction that looked better suited to an intimate late night with someone special than on afternoon television.
Then she focused on the banner running beneath the smiling redhead.
'Euro-Designs' Hot New Model! Kimberly Anne!' she read as the banner stayed fixed in place to ensure everyone got a good look at it.
"You have got to be kidding me," Bonnie now shrieked. "That…..walking fashion disaster is Pierre-Pierre's newest diva?"
"It was supposed to be meeeeeee," Lonnie continued to wail as Connie merely shot her a sour gaze, then looked back to her textbook.
"And that's what happens when you rely on your looks," the other girl muttered, paying no attention to the faux drama that mattered very little to the ambitious collegian.
Bonnie just stared as her other sister cried, actually sobbing real tears.
Bonnie, however, felt more outrage than anything else.
That was why she dumped cheer practice? Oh, she was so gone. She was going to make sure of that this time. Totally gone!
KP
"Mingle. Chat. Enjoy. This is part of a model's life, too. And the faster you make sponsors," William Deedle smiled slyly as he led Kim into the crowded ballroom after they left the television studio to arrive at the local fashion party for the new star. "The faster you earn more money, and the faster repay your debt."
Kim was really starting to hate her agent, and his smirky, little winks.
All he needed was a goatee and horns, and the guy would make a good stand-in for any devil. He certainly seemed sleazy enough to qualify. She wasn't even eighteen yet, and he was already hinting at her showing more cleavage, and being more flirtatious with the old guys in the crowd.
Like that was the way she wanted to get anyone's attention.
Ugh!
Kim forced a stiff smile to her over-made face, or so she deemed it, and stood to one side, just staring.
The conversation was banal so far as she could hear. Someone was talking about silks versus satin, and someone was talking about new prints for the coming season. She was still in the very thin, very unnerving gown that felt more nightie than dress to her, and she wished Will had let her change before leaving the studio after that fiasco that passed as an interview.
Some interview.
She had to spout some tripe he had written up for, and then the host had spent more time gushing over the label than anything else. All she had to do was stand there, and pose as Will had pointed, gestured, and pretty much managed her like a marionette in front of the cameras. It was not quite what she had expected.
Now, she was standing in a room full of people pretending not to stare at her, and some of those old guys really were giving her looks that made her very, very uneasy. Some of them were older than her dad, and still leered at her like…..
She turned away from one guy before he took her own glance as encouraging, and approached an older woman in a dark blue dress that looked as bored as Kim.
"Hello," she said with a tentative smile as she approached the perfectly groomed woman with tinted, silver hair. "I hate to sound trite, but….do I know you?"
"I wager you know more of the guests that you realize. I know how it is when you are surrounded by a crowd, though. Mrs. Davonshire, Kimberly. Eloise Davonshire. You saved my nephew from those dreadful kidnappers last year."
"Oh. Right. I can't believe I didn't remember your face better," Kim blushed.
"I doubt I was at my best when we last met, my dear. Tell me, are you the one needing rescue now," she asked knowingly as she glanced toward a portly man with wispy, white hair who was paying blatant attention to them.
"You might say that," Kim sighed. "Suddenly, I feel like the only horderves on the tray surrounded by…."
"Starving lechers?"
"Yeah," she blushed. "I don't want to ruin anything, but my agent insisted I mingle," she sighed.
"There is mingling, Kimberly. And then there is mingling," she smiled, winking. "Come with me. I want to introduce to you someone that will make a very lovely mentor for you, my dear."
"Oh," the redhead asked, "I thought that agent the company gave me took care of everything."
"Agents book, and point. They can't teach you a lot of the things you need to learn, dear. Come with me. I see my friend now, and you absolutely must meet her," Eloise told her as she blithely sailed past all the men trying to gain Kim's attention.
KP
"Hey, Ron, listen, about the weekend….."
"Your mom explained," the sandy-haired teen told her as she joined him where he waited in their usual booth at Bueno Nacho. "You had to get a job, huh? Bummer. There goes our date nights."
"Ron, it's not just the weekends. I may be leaving town soon…."
"Got another mission? Cool," he grinned. "Where are we headed now?"
"I'm going to Paris. You're staying here," she said quietly.
"I'm….not going? But, KP? Paris? It's the city for lovers!"
"Ron, will you let me explain," she almost shouted.
"So….. You're not a happy camper," he finally said after she rambled for over fifteen minutes, trying to explain the fallout over their crashing the modeling show to catch Camille.
"No," she growled. "Why would I be happy?"
"Well, Paris? Modeling? You're going to be famous, Kim," he grinned. "Famouser!"
She glowered. Darkly.
"And…..you don't want to be famous," he asked uncertainly.
Kim tried very, very hard not to groan.
"Ron, I might not even be around for….a long time. I have back-to-back bookings for the next three to four months. I won't even be there to graduate."
"Hey, now that's wrong! Wait, how will you graduate? Barkin will fail you for sure if you miss his tests."
"Tutors," she sighed.
"Oh. Right. Right." He shook his head a moment later. "But aren't you an 'A' student? Why do you need….?"
"To keep me caught up, and let me graduate on time. I'll just be doing it…..long-distance."
"Oh. Oh. And….our missions," he frowned.
"Unless it's a major mission, and GJ calls, I can't go. It looks like it'll be up to you for a while."
"Uh, how long," he asked.
"I don't know. The company has me under a five year contract," she murmured as she sat back in the booth, eyeing her friend who was so confused he had even stopped eating.
Which was saying something.
"Me? Alone? But, KP, I'm just the sidekick. I've always been the sidekick. I can't go without you! You're the hero!"
"Ron, you're a hero, too. You've always been one. Maybe… Maybe you could find your own sidekick. But, just now, I'm sidelined."
"Five years? For one dress," he sputtered.
"Well, one dress, and a lot of angry egos," she muttered.
"Man, that is so wrong. So, you got punished for stopping….? Wait, why didn't they come after me?"
"Just be glad they didn't," she told him. "I get the feeling they could, if they wanted."
"Yeah. But I'd probably look terrible in a dress," he sputtered.
"Right, Ron," she sighed. "Listen, there's one more thing. I was thinking about this all week, and….. I feel that if we're going to be…..separated this long…..indefinitely…"
Ron looked stricken. As if he had just been told Bueno Nacho was being condemned.
"You're breaking up with me, too," he guessed.
"It's for the best, Ron. We don't know how long I'll be gone. Or where I'll be in the end. I don't want you sitting, and waiting for me when you still have your own life to live here."
"I could wait," he protested.
"Five years? I have to focus on this….mess, and find a way to get through it, Ron. Besides, my contract says I can't have….visitors, so you couldn't even join me. I have to do this….solo."
"But….?"
"I'm sorry, Ron. For now, it's for the best. Maybe Wade can figure something out long-term, but for now….. It looks like you're going to be the hero. So, good luck," she smiled at him.
Ron just stared, looking at her as if she had just suggested he face Mr. Barkin alone.
Which, it only then occurred to him, he would be doing for the next three months.
"Man," he groaned in complaint as Kim just rose, and walked out, leaving him alone. "This tanks," he said, not even feeling remotely hungry at the moment.
Which was a shock to him, and to Rufus, who was still just sitting and staring as the redhead walked away.
To Be Continued…..
