Red Blossoms Redux
Now with sobriety. Serious errors have been fixed.
Low vines slapped the man in the face as he ran, a blood splattered trail of vegetation behind him. Suddenly his feet slipped out from beneath him, and he stumbled, the rolled down a brush cover hillside. Ferns, leaves, and mud covered him as he fell, his body slamming against a tree trunk, knocking him more senseless than he already was. His body careened down the hillside as it grew steeper, mud and vegetation covering him, and finally tossing his broken frame into a small, bare clearing at the bottom of the slope. He came to rest on his back staring into the fertile canopy.
Even barely conscious, his remaining eye darted back and forth blearily, desperately trying to see his pursuer in the treetops. Terror filled him as he saw a glimmer in the air like heat waves, a shift of the leaves above him, and the silence of the animals in the immediate vicinity. His legs ached, and his chest seemed swollen from his agonized lungs, yet he still tried to will his body to move. Nothing responded, whether because of a torn and shattered spinal cord, or by sheer and complete exhaustion, he couldn't tell. He realized he was beyond caring.
His eye came to rest on a small, red flower growing from the base of a mighty tree. A single vibrant blossom had sprouted between two enormous roots. A drop of dew glistened on it, and he smiled. Though small, it was a parasitic flower. The tree towering over it would be dead in a few years, and the beautiful red flower, though long departed from the world, would be reflected in a hundred-hundred progeny. As his vision faded, another water drop began to form on a petal of the flower.
Winter sucks, thought Kim. The last bits of a snow squall blew in her face and she shivered. She pulled her hood tight, and glanced back at Ron making a snow angel in the Federman's front yard.
"Come on, Ron, we're going to be late for first period!" she said, hand on hip. Ron hopped up, grinned at his handy work and ran to catch up with her. He gave her a grin with one raised eyebrow; she rolled her eyes, and then flopped in the snow. First period could wait she thought, as Rufus dove into the snow as well, making a tiny, mole rat shaped hole next to her.
Kim shook the snow off as she entered the school with Ron, and gave him a grin.
"Nice snow angels KP; see you at lunch," he said.
"Likewise," she said, turning, but running into a wall. At least felt like a wall. On closer inspection, it turned out to be a tweed jacket.
"And I'll see you both in detention," Mr. Barkin said. He leaned down, and stared her in the face. "Second time in two years, Miss Possible. It appears you're trying to start a habit."
At lunch, Kim was morose. She wandered over to Ron's table and sat down hard.
"Don't let it get you down, Kim," Ron said as Rufus dog piled a bowl of school chili, falling out of the bowl to theatrically gagging and flopping to the table. "Hey, warned you buddy. That stuff's toxic." Rufus burbled a squeaky moan in response. "Anyhow, it's only, what, the second time in your life you've gotten it? I mean, heck, I get it nearly every week."
"It's not just that," she said, poking her mystery food with a spork. "I'm sick of winter. It's the second week of February, and there's still a foot of snow on the ground."
"Well at least there's no threat of global warming," Ron said, grinning. Kim didn't. "Right. Er, listen, you mentioned it's the second week of February, right? Well, there's a, um, a dance coming up, so that might cheer you-"
"Ugh. No thanks. I'm sick of school functions." Kim stood up, and took her food in to the wastebasket untouched. Snarfing his meal down with a gulp then a shudder, Ron hurried after her. "Wade, tell me there's something happening in a place that is currently experiencing a record heat wave," Kim said, switching on the kimmunicator.
Ron slumped along after her. He glanced down at the tickets he'd bought for the dance. Ah, fuck it. It would've been a waste of time, he shouldn't bother thinking about it, and besides, three hastily swallowed mouthfuls of school chili was taking hold in his-
"Uh, KP, I'll catch you later, I gotta go," Ron said as he bee lined for the restroom, and shouting, "Literally!"
"Thanks for the TMI update," Monique said as she sidled up to Kim.
"Hey Monique," Kim said.
"'Sup Kim," she said. "Got the winter blues?"
"And nothing in warm climates right now," Wade said from his usual spot behind his computer in front of a web cam. "Switzerland, Sweden, Greenland, Siberia, and nothing else, except . . ."
"Except what Wade?"
"Nothing, I guess. A job in Brazil, but it just got withdrawn."
"Phooey. That would have been perfect," Kim said, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. "What was it?"
"Well, it's kind of a strange one," Wade said.
"How strange?" Kim said with a sly smile.
"Like super-fast withdrawn by an unspecified government agency strange."
"Uh, Kim, you've got a weird look in your eye," Monique said.
Ron hurried to catch up with the group. "Where're we going today KP?"
"Brazil."
Why am I alive?
Where am I?
He rolled over, and immediately regretted it. A bolt of pain from his armpit to his ankle made him freeze in complete and total agony. The brightness of the overhead LED lighting blinded him as well, and he could barely see more than a white blur in every direction. Slowly, as his sight returned, he realized however that everything looked white because everything was white. His sheets, the curtain, the ceiling, the floor, everywhere he looked was white; the full spectrum glow from overhead merely aggravated the visual sensation.
Tugging at his restraints, he found he had none. He slowly sat upright, letting the vertigo, nausea, and what have you come. The light bed sheet he threw to the floor, and noticed he was wearing a light green hospital gown. Must have run out of white fabric. He pulled himself out of the bed, and stumbled, collapsing on the floor.
Pain. Sheer pain. He lay on the floor for a moment as the flashes of light in his eyes died down. Then, with great effort, he willed himself upright. Barefoot and naked, or at least nearly naked, was no way to be in an unknown place, even if it resembled a hospital. He had to move. There was much to do, and little time to do it.
He pulled the surrounding curtain aside, and glanced quickly. There were no visible personnel, and no alarms sounded. The room, what he could see of it, was a bay of curtains concealing what he assumed to be beds like his. Besides his, none seemed to be occupied save one. Seeing no immediate exit, he lurched towards it, curiosity getting the better of him. The curtain rattled as he pulled it open.
He fell back, screaming, feet scrabbling against the floor.
Even as hands grabbed him, his eyes never left the bed in front of him, terrified that it would suddenly rise.
There seemed to be no night or day in the rainforest, only the canopy above shrouding the ground below with eternal twilight. A lithe figure swung from tree to tree with silent grace, her passage not even dissuading the monkeys and various birds from their howls or calls. Without warning, a vine snapped, throwing her off target.
With a twist of her body, and a flash of green light, she glanced off a tree, and then swung herself towards another. Again the green glow radiated from her hands, and she pulled herself to a stop, leaving ten long gashes in the ancient trunk. The animals were silent now.
"Smooth move," the woman said, grimacing. She looked back on the carnage her little slip had caused. Besides the broken vine, deep, charred grooves crossed the first tree she had hit, along with the ones she was holding herself in. "Might as well have left a trail of neon pink paint."
Now what? I'll have to make a ninety-degree turn and travel perpendicular for a few miles, she thought. Lovely. She cursed her luck, and the weak plant she'd fallen from, but made for her new heading. It should throw anyone off, she said to herself.
"Shego," Kim said grimly, briefly touching the charred gouge in the tree trunk, and moving on.
"Yeah, the burned-in handprints are a dead give away," Ron said.
"But what is she doing here?" Kim said. She pulled out the kimmunicator. "Wade, can you give me an update on Dr. Drakken's location?"
"Same as it's been for the last two weeks Kim. Jail. Although," he said hesitantly, "Shego escaped about a week ago."
She halted on the trail, Ron bumping into her, stumbling past, and falling over a thick branch face first.
"Wade, that's kind of need to know! Oh, sorry Ron."
"Don't worry, I'm alright," he said in a weak voice.
"Well, Shego usually isn't a bother when Drakken's not around," Wade said with a shrug.
True enough, thought Kim. Aside from her being a fugitive, Shego wasn't doing anything dangerous like take over the world or assassinate somebody. And she never really tried the latter, so there wasn't any reason to worry then, was there? Still a nagging feeling in her mind-
"Wade, a distress signal in the area, suddenly recalled, and then Shego shows?" Kim clenched her fist. "Something is definitely up. This way!"
They hurried along; following the trace of a path Shego had left along her route, they ran along while Rufus scouted ahead in the treetops, and chattering every few meters to lead them along. Ron watched him with pride. Naked mole rats, he thought. Never leave home without one.
"Good idea Ron," Kim said. "If Shego was traveling in her usual flashy manner, it's easier for Rufus to find signs."
"Wheee!" Rufus chattered as he swung to the next tree.
"Funny that Shego would take a right turn all of a sudden," Ron said as he tried to avoid being hit by every branch Kim pushed out of her way.
"Ron, it's simple; she made a big mess back there, and she didn't want anybody on her trail." So why was that? Was she running away from someone, or was she approaching someplace that might spot her-
"Kim, look out!" Ron cried, and pushed her to the ground just as a...
"Ron, it's a vine," she said, smacking him in the forehead with it. "Let's move."
"Ow. Well, it could have been a tree snake."
Right Ron, the dreaded attached to a tree, hanging lifeless vegetative tree snake, Kim thought. He'd been acting strange the past few weeks even for Ron. Misguidedly chivalrous, overprotective even. Maybe…it was fallout from the moodulator incident. She sighed inwardly. There wasn't time to be sorting out Ron's feelings for her right now, or any time for that matter. They were there, but Ron would have to deal with them on his own for now. She only hoped that they wouldn't get in the way of her mission.
Well, that was rather rude of her, she thought as she dodged a branch. Ron yelped as he didn't. Oops, so was that. "Sorry Ron, " she said holding the next for him. After all, he was half the team. The "Ron Factor", not so much, but could she do it without him to back her up? Psychologically, if not physically? She held herself back a little. They weren't sure just what they were getting themselves into exactly anyways, and it would be foolhardy to rush into something they didn't understand. She wasn't sure about things at the moment, more so than just Ron's emotions.
"Ron, we need to hold up and plan," she said. He pulled up short, this time without running into her.
"What's up KP?" he said.
She rubbed her head. "I need to think. This isn't a typical mission; we don't know what we're getting into. More so than just a mystery to solve, it might be a dangerous situation."
"That's true," he said, sitting down on a stump. "What do we know about this place besides being humid beyond all reason?"
"Wade?" Kim said, "can you give a me a heads up on strange happenings in this region starting with governmental 'nothing-to-see-here-move-along' warnings?" She sat down on the stump next to Ron. Not right next to him, out propriety, but also because the stump was ten feet wide. Which was odd when you thought about. Kim glanced around curious. There were other trees missing, and not from a simple break or a clean cut from an axe. It seemed that they had been burnt, or knocked down, or a combination of the two.
Ron was staring around, looking a little pale. "Kim," he started, "something isn't right here. The trees…"
The forest had a scar. As they looked to the west, a strip of previously unseen blue sky looked down on them. Shattered trees, some as thick as small houses, lay battered to the ground. There was no smoke, but it was plain to see burnt shrubbery and charred trees stumps left behind in the wake of whatever had past through the canopy, and plowed into the ground. In the distance, Kim could just make out the end of the destruction.
Across the forest, well out of Kim and Ron's sight, a similar scar cut across the forest. This was fresh, with fires burning fiercely around it. "Another one," Shego thought as she hung from a tree a safe distance away on higher ground, binoculars to her face, intently watching the craft that had slammed into the earth. It still glowed from re-entry, or more accurately, entry; steam billowed up around it, as some kind of cooling mechanism took hold.
As she watched, the craft folded completely open, then seemed to melt into the trees and plowed-up loam. Refractive camouflage, Shego thought, beyond anything made on this planet, and I've stolen some high level shit before. This isn't possible.
"Ugh," she suddenly said with a shudder.
"Achoo!"
"Bless you," Ron said, wiping his face off.
"Sorry."
"Well, Miss Go," Shego said bemused, "where do we go from here?" She tapped on the trunk of the tree, head in hand. Her question was quickly answered. A humanoid shape emerged from the spot where the ship had disappeared, but suddenly faded from view like the craft had. Shego's face grew a thin, dangerous smile. "Let's find out who the tourist is."
With a brief glance at the flames beginning to lick about the tree, she hopped down and quickly hid herself behind a scorched stump. The air was nearly still, but she could still feel a light breeze; it hastened the spread of the numerous fires. There wasn't much time before they'd begin to spread. Though it was a rainforest, the jungle could have its dry spells from time to time; little rain had fallen since the start of the year, bringing dangerous conditions. Shego glanced back where she had come. Already several fires were crackling about the tree she had just been in.
Shego grimaced. On second thought, there really wasn't time to deal with the ship under these conditions. As much as she hated to admit it, she had to move on. This area was getting . . . unpredictable. However, a cursory glance to the other side of the crash strip found similar conditions. Fires were truly raging there, having found a blow down of dead wood for food. Away from the craft offered only the wrong direction, and who knew how far she'd have to go out of her way this time?
Past the ship it was.
"Bad news," Wade said.
"Lay it on me," Kim said.
"I found a bunch of stuff that's similar, but I've found two incidents that are a near match," he replied. "One abut fifteen years ago in Columbia, and the second two years later in New York City. According to my sources, a series of violent murders in New York during a drug cartel rivalry were found to be the work of neither party. Nothing much else on that one."
"The scarier case is the Columbian incident. It says here that a square kilometer of forest was wiped out by, and I quote, 'a handheld weapon'. I can't find much more than that; even what I have is practically hearsay"
"But this part isn't; see, the military has to disclose deaths by combat to the public record. That makes this stuff solid. Kim, in both cases high-level military teams got wiped out completely. In fact, in Columbia, two teams of US Special Forces were declared MIA, save one man. Of course, that's a euphemism for 'killed by something we don't want to tell anybody about'."
"This sounds bad KP," Ron said. "More so than usual; maybe it's too risky."
"So not," Kim said with a frown, but she wasn't sure. There was something going on here, what with Shego about and all. However, it wasn't just the danger, it was also the uncertainty. Maybe she was going about this all wrong…
"I don't want you to get hurt, Kim. Maybe we should go back." Ron favored her with a concerned frown.
"Pick it up Ron, we're heading after Shego," Kim barked. She swung her backpack on quickly and started jogging between the stumps, jumping fallen branches and piles of ash. Ron sighed and hurried after her.
Shit, he thought. I should have just kept my mouth shut.
He closed his eyes and focused. Nothing happened. A roar of fans coming from every corner of the room was disconcerting, but he clenched his eyes shut, listening to his own heartbeat. Though immobilized by restraints, he could still flex his arms; he did so, the bands around his forearms disappointingly tightening instead of what he'd hope for.
"I assume you're trying that little trick you have," a woman's voice over a loud speaker said. "It won't work in here I'm afraid; too much xenon in the air."
He ignored her and clenched his whole body. Sometimes when he was drunk, he had to put more conscious effort into it. Maybe they'd drugged him. But it was an innate part of his body; they couldn't just shut it off. He concentrated.
A slight glow started in the webs of his hands, but as quickly as it had started, the pale purple light faded away.
Night had arrived, but slowly. Bats fluttered across the dark cobalt sky squeaking and chirping at food and trees. Kim watched the moon, so high in the sky compared to the one in Middleton. She sighed, and finished counting to a hundred.
"Kim, this is dullsville," Ron said. He was swinging a vine around idly. "Shouldn't we be doing something?"
This is different as well, she thought. Usually Ron was ready to crash at a moments notice. What was with all this unexpected get-up-and-go? Though he was ready to go as far as missions were concerned, he kind of lagged behind sometimes; there wasn't anything wrong with it, he just was a more easy-going than her. There was the night ahead, and she wasn't interested in hearing Ron gripe about everything. She was about to tell him so when she noticed an unnatural stillness in the air. Sensing Ron was about to speak again, she raised her hand to silence him.
Opening and closing his mouth on his words, he glanced around, noticing the quiet as well. The bats were gone, and a blanket of silence fell over them. Ron hunched lower, sliding down beside his stump, with Kim following in suit. His eyes darted back and forth, glancing at the shadows that surrounded them. Then, for a moment, they settled on Kim.
She was powerful. Moonlight washed her face in a pale porcelain sheen, turning her hair a deep red. Sweat drops ran down her neck in the night heat. He watched one trail down from her cheekbone, down the side of her neck, then slope inwards, and finishing at the neckline of her shirt between her-
"Ron!" Kim hissed. He started.
"Did you hear that?" he said, trying to conceal his attentions.
"Hear what, your drooling?" she replied. No such luck, Ronald, Kim thought. Though when she turned away she did smile, and felt a light flush from his look. No, forget that, it was the heat, the unbearable heat.
"The heat." Kim yanked out the kimmunicator, and pressed the call button.
Another man in another room. However, this man was older, not strapped to a table in a gassed room, and asleep. However, he slept with fitful dreams and rolled over, shuddering. At a muffled cry, however, he quickly hoisted himself back to his side.
"Sorry. Gomen." He sat up and looked out the narrow window of the cluttered room. It was morning in Sapporo, though the room still had the chill of the night. A rustling behind him, along with two slender hands snaking around his chest told him his companion was awake. She pressed against him, her breasts soft to his skin.
"You sreep poory," she said. He nodded.
"Stuff in my head," he replied, turning his head halfway to smile wanly at her.
"Forget," she said coyly, lying back down.
"Can't." He stood, wrapping the sheet around him.
"Feh. Give back then prease," she said with a mock pout, and tugged on the sheet. He held gently but firmly, his arm unmoving as she pulled with all her might. Then he let go. "Oof!" she said as she fell back onto the futon. She threw a pillow at his head, which he ducked.
In the weak morning sunlight, her small white breasts bristled with goose bumps. Giving up on her game of tug of war, she smiled at him. "What is your namu?" she said, tracing his back with her finger and raising some of his. "Your real one."
"Dutch," he said, digging in his coat for a cigar.
"Dooch?"
"Hai. It's an old military name for good duct tape. Dutch tape."
She laughed and swatted him. "No, rearry! Be serious."
"I am being serious," he said as he lit up, but a smile escaped. She smirked. "It's what I was called because I had a strong accent. "
"Are you . . . dooch?"
"German. Why did you bring me back here last night?"
"You seemed sad." She left his side and walked over to the kitchen space in the studio apartment where a coffee maker waited. "Coffee?"
"Yes," he said absentmindedly. As he stood, he felt the sun slowly warm his skin. He ducked back in the shadow of the room. Glancing out the window, he saw that the south-facing apartment would be in the sun for most of the day.
"I have to go," he said as he reached for his pants.
"Where were you?" she said calmly.
"It was hot," he said. He'd moved to Maine and hadn't been south of New Hampshire since his EOS date. This trip to Japan had been out of necessity, but he'd luckily been able to go in the winter. Even flying in summer climates made him nervous. During the flight over he'd kept glancing behind him in the shadows of the cabin. A lot of alcohol later, he was nearly certain of it. On touch down he'd been informed that he would have to find a different airline to fly home on. Hence his situation. His ticket hadn't been refunded yet, and might never be, so he was stuck with little money, no cards and a need to fly home. Oh well, at least it was cold.
"You should stay a day or two," she said to him, handing him a cup of coffee.
That was it though, staying. Standing still. It made him nervous, made him watch the foliage for wrinkled patches of air. Shaking his head, he took her proffered cup, and drank it fast. She watched with her arms wrapped around herself. The air was cold in the room, and she headed back to bed as he pulled his jacket on. She didn't say goodbye as he left.
Outside, his cell phone rang. Surprising, since almost no one knew it, and he was certain the few who did knew he was in Japan.
"Hello?" he said, stopping to rest in a park.
"Dutch!"
He sat up suddenly. "Barkin? How's it going Mad Dog!"
"Damn good, teaching in a high school now, and taking it easy. Heard from Deke you were in a bit of trouble."
"Shit, who'd I call last night?" he rubbed his head, finally feeling the beginning of a hangover.
"Well, not me, you stuck up bastard," the voice continued. "But I'll still haul your ass out of the fire again."
"Nice. What do you got for me?"
"I can get you a flight back to the states," he replied. "You'll have to come in at the city local, and drink yourself under the table with me, but it'll be a skip and a jump back to Maine from here."
"Let's run this op," Dutch said with a smile.
She stumbled as she walked, resting her good shoulder against each tree in turn. Shego held the stump of her right arm tightly, a hastily made poultice jammed in the cauterized socket. As she lurched along, she tried to see out of her eyes; caked with dirt and blood, she could see little but the next tree. Suddenly bracing herself against a trunk, she vomited what she could, blood splattering against her shoes.
The sudden vacating of her already empty stomach was too much. She fell to the ground, eyes wide with shock. Though the fall on her injured side knocked her awake in an instant, she couldn't move, the pain was so great. For several minutes she lay there. Then, with a groan, she pulled herself to her feet. A few seconds passed as she stood trembling.
Dreamlike, the mossy ground rose to cushion her face.
"Wade, find anything yet?" Kim said as she methodically walked between the trees. Ron moved parallel to her with a small, beeping scanner in hand.
"Nothing Kim," Wade said, "but it was a good idea to use the scanner and the kimmunicator in a tandem IR sweep."
"No big, it's just like that time I used some chewing gum to rig Drakken's rocket to self destruct."
"Didn't I see that in an episode of McGuyver?" Ron said.
"Smart ass. Hey, I have something…" Kim stopped cold. Spattered blood fanned across a tree, with some ending up on the ground behind it. A fist sized charred hole was burnt clean through the tree.
"Whoa," Ron said lowering his scanner goggles. He knelt and touched the ocher stains
"Ew, Ron, you know what it is, you don't need to touch it!" she said. "Wade, update?"
"Heat trail from here to the west for as far as the scanner can see," he replied. Nodding, Ron hurried in the proscribed direction, with Kim close behind. He switched his goggles to night vision, since the blood trail was so evident. Through the brush, he beat it aside as he ran; damn it, he had to impress Kim somehow. All of a sudden, a steep grade yanked the ground from beneath him.
"Yeeeee!" Ron shouted as he ran fast to try and keep up with the fast moving ground.
"Ron!" Kim shouted as she hurried to catch up. She caught herself as she came to the edge of the hill, and ran/skied down, following Ron's trail. With a yelp, she tripped over a fallen limb. Over and over she tumbled, but instinctively tucked herself into a ball as she rolled down the slope. She suddenly stopped, caught by tensed, slender arms.
Ron had caught her; that in and of itself was surprising, but even more so was that he'd done it with his own injuries that seemed quite bad at first glance. She breathed hard for a moment, in his arms and eyes. Blushing from the surprise, and his hug, a hug that had almost felt intimate, she pulled away. Ron's bloody face looked a little scary, and his expression looked pained, but to Kim's quick glance it appeared to be from his injuries. "Are you alright?" she said, reaching up to check his face; it had gotten quite a beating from the fall.
"I'm OK, but-" he gulped, "but I don't think she is." Kim followed his line of sight, and gasped. What appeared to be Shego lay in a crumpled heap a few feet away. She had apparently made it down the hill as well. "Oh my god…"
Kim ran to her side, with the kimmunicator out in a heartbeat. Shego might be a foe most of the time, but she still was a human being, despite her strange powers.
"Wade, quick, I need an evacuation, now!" she said. "Run a scan fast, and tell me what I can do." A high-pitched staccato whine emitted, with a corresponding frenetic oscillation of lines on the view screen.
"She's bad Kim," Wade said. "I might be able to get a flight in time, but it'll be touch and go."
"We're done here Wade," she said. "Make it fast."
Still in the same highly ventilated room but allowed to move around now, he sat in the corner, glowering at the mirror that covered one wall. An untouched meal sat in the corner. He glanced at it, he was hungry, but he had to stay strong. There was no other way to keep from being broken. First eating then relaxing to his situation, then the aerosol drugs, and then he'd be spilling everything. It was his job to keep the information, not survive.
He looked at the plate again.
"Hey assholes, you need to clean out the monkey's cage," he said aloud.
No one responded. This in and of its self wasn't odd, but there was a feeling that set him on edge. Probably from being in the same building as- he curled up into a ball. He'd never seen, imagined, anything like it before. Even when his big sister had teased him with stories of monsters when they'd spent the night in the clubhouse as children.
The lights flickered, and went out. In an instant, dimmer lights came on, darker, with a red tint to them. They washed everything in blood hue. As a side effect, all the security doors had released; his was no different.
But the man inside the room made no move to leave. A stain slowly grew on the front of his pants as he rocked back and forth in the corner, his bravado gone.
"There's only one person who can help Shego," Kim said softly to herself.
"Huh?" Ron said; he was looking back at the woman lying under a sheet behind them in the cramped cabin.
"Enjoying the view?" Kim said with a mischievous expression.
"Why, does it make you jealous?" he said.
Kim rolled her eyes, "So not."
"Anyhow, you said something about someone being able to help Shego?"
"Felix's mom," she said. "This is her line of work, right?"
"I don't know KP," Ron said. "Shego having a freaky metal cyborg arm might make her even more dangerous."
"True."
With a noticeable tilt, the airplane nosed down towards the runway at Middleton Regional. A medic came back to check on Shego, and made cursory checks of her restraints. Kim frowned.
"Are those really necessary?" she asked.
"SOP," he said, and then added sarcastically, "Since she is an escaped fugitive?"
Rude much? Kim thought. Oddly, she felt a little sorry for Shego. She'd been nearly killed and all, and now she was captured, missing a limb, and heading back to prison. It was her lot in life, she thought. The paths we choose and all that.
"Uhhnnn . . ." Shego moaned as she twisted in her bindings, and Kim realized something; if Shego woke up and wasn't happy, she'd simply break her restraints with a flash of energy. She stood to warn the medic who was dangerously close to Shego's remaining hand. It was too late. Shego suddenly raised herself off the cot and screamed.
"YEAARGGHH!" she shrieked, her body warping and flexing rapidly against the nylon straps holding her arm and legs. Kim dashed forward and grabbed her forearm, holding it down while the medic readied a needle. Shego twisted back towards Kim and tried to lash out at her with her missing limb. Ron had finally snapped out of the shock of Shego's outburst, and came to help. He held her legs as the medic finally got the needle into her.
Almost instantly she calmed, but everyone kept his or her place as Shego's chest rose and fell frantically. Kim watched her with a pitying gaze. As she calmed, she turned towards Kim.
"Don't look at me like that," she slurred. "Not from you." Her speech became soft mumbles and she relaxed her neck, letting her head rest upon the cot. "Ego," she said as she drifted off into slumber.
As they came in for a landing with an ambulance standing by on the tarmac, Dutch stepped down from the puddle jumper he'd taken from La Guardia. Mr. Barkin waited by the gate, a grin on his face.
"Dutch!"
"Mad Dog!" They pounded each other on the back, glad to see one another, glad to have survived things that would have killed lesser men; thankful for every day they were alive, and grateful to have had others who'd shared their trials. Dutch stepped back and gave Steve Barkin's tweed ensemble a raised eyebrow.
"Dressing the part too," he said. "This is not good my friend. We'll have to get that drinking started in a hurry."
"No can do, Dutch my man," Barkin replied. "Have to get back and teach a bunch of punk kids about feeling good through feeling pain. Got a gym class in twenty minutes. Hmm." He tapped his feet. "This isn't any good. Tell you what, I'll look up a hotel room for you or something…" As he spoke, an ambulance flew by wailing. They both happen to glance at it, then past it at two teens walking towards them on their way to the terminal.
"Possible, Stoppable, skipping school as usual?" he said sternly, dropping out of his swaggering persona and into his mentor role, but with a smile that let them know he was kidding.
"Right, Mr. B, er, Mr. Barkin, Sir," Ron said as they approached.
"See why you wanted to get into teaching," Dutch whispered, appraising the redhead walking alongside the blond boy. Barkin elbowed him hard. "Afternoon," he said, taking on Barkin's tone.
"What are you doing here Mr. Barkin?" Kim asked as she stopped. Her face seemed haggard up close, and Dutch favored her with a slightly concerned look; his attention made her blush a little.
"Picking up an old army buddy," he said, "But I got roped into gym class duty today."
"Welcome to Middleton, Mr..." she said.
"Dutch. Just Dutch is fine miss," he said with a slightly cold smile. At her quizzical look he added, "It's an old moniker."
"Right, well, it was nice meeting you," she replied. "Wade, what do you have for a ride home?"
On the screen, Wade slapped his head. "Sorry Kim, I hadn't thought about a ride back from the airport."
"Great, now what?" Ron said.
"I have an idea," Mr. Barkin said. "I'll take you back to school after I drop Dutch here at a hotel."
"Ah, come on, there's only like three periods left," Ron said, but quieted at Mr. Barkin's stern scowl.
Riding in Mr. Barkin's jeep was an interesting experience, what with all the gear packed in the back. Ron perched in the middle of the pile of junk, while Kim rode on his lap. Can't complain too much about this, Ron thought, but it'd get uncomfortable if she moves around too much. Not to mention embarrassing for me. Luckily for him, she sat still while reading some e-mail on the kimmunicator.
"This is strange Ron," she said. "There's nothing on the crash landings in that valley."
"Well, we were kinda far from civilization," Ron said, trying to shift his weight underneath her.
"Not that far," she murmured.
"So what were you two up to?" Dutch said turning around slightly. "An Air Force C-4 is a strange way to come into a little regional airport like this."
"She's some kind of teen superhero," said Mr. Barkin before Kim could speak. "Makes her headstrong." She scowled at him.
"Does not," she said, crossing her arms.
"See what I mean?" he said.
"Wow, I do," Ron said, wincing as Kim elbowed him.
They drove on, Kim fielding the occasional question from the man called "Dutch". He quietly listened, nodding every now and then. Over the short twenty-minute ride into town from the airport, he gathered a vague idea about the young girl. She was like him, a combination of his youthful optimism as a soldier in the regular army, and the wild (slightly arrogant) spirit of his later freelance years. Now at forty-five, he let an increasingly broad smile escape, amazed that one so young was as versed as her.
She brushed her hair back as it blew in her face. Though she was tough, she was just a kid, he thought. She shouldn't be doing this. He shook his head. It was his overprotective nature; no children of his own, and none expected. Occasionally it left him a little sad. He knew Barkin felt the same way. Military life had left him no time to raise or even start a family, and so he had become a father to his students. He'd never admit it, but he cared for them like his own children.
Violence shattered a good heart, and death favored not the heartless, he said to himself. There was no way for him to put down roots anywhere any more. The more he thought about it, the more he wished he could stay in this idyllic town. As they passed a hospital, probably the hospital, he had an idea.
"Hey, Mad Dog, stop here," he said, tapping Barkin on the shoulder.
"What for?" Barkin asked, sending him a raised eyebrow.
"I want to pick up an application for a job."
After a brief interview where he detailed his combat medical experience, Dutch was very nearly hired on the spot. Though it was odd, he felt at home as he walked down the hallway of the hospital with an orderly who'd been tasked to show him around, like he'd found an oasis in the world he'd created for himself. A spot of respite from his demons. It was as if the red-haired girl had calmed something inside him, had given him a peace and a purpose.
"Good evening Dr. Possible, Dr. Renton," the orderly said to a red-haired woman in a lab coat. Dutch started. The woman's hair was red as well, could she be…?
"Excuse me ma'am," he said, "but do you have a daughter?"
Dr. Possible, stopped, and stared at the large man who just spoken to her. "Do I know you?" she said with hands on her hips.
"No ma'am, I just got a ride from her teacher, and she happened to be riding with him. Small world, huh?" he said with a smile.
"Small town actually," she said. "Forgive my suspicious 'hello', but Kimberly has dealt with people in the past who'd try to do her, or people she knows, harm. Why, just today she brought one of them home with her, of all the crazy things."
The ambulance, Dutch thought to himself. Must have been one of those freaks she was talking about.
"Of course, the poor dear was in horrific shape," Dr. Renton said, piping up. "Her arm was cut clean off; I'm discussing prosthesis options with Dr. Possible. It was odd, like it had been burned away. Something that cauterizes as it cuts, and doesn't leave a burn mark anywhere else on the body, that just doesn't make sense unless-" Dutch's eyes grew wide.
"WHAT!" he shouted, grabbing the startled woman. "How did it happen? Where?"
"Whoa, buddy, calm down!" the orderly with him said, trying to pull him away, but Dutch's still-leathery forearms held her tightly.
"I-I- don't know, Kim brought her back from, where did she say?" she said glancing frightened at Dr. Possible.
"Brazil; sir, how about you calm down and tell me what you know?" Kim's mom said calmly, gently placing her hand on his arm. "Kenny, let Dr. Smith know I'll be a minute or two late."
In her office he paced back and forth, his brow furrowed. He turned to Dr. Renton, and leaned over her. "Doc, are you sure it's how you described it?"
"Yes, a cauterized cut directly through the shoulder at the scapula; there's a small part of the humerus left towards the proximal end, but…"
He waved her silent. Now calmer, he realized he'd overreacted, and made a fool of himself. It was just like the flight to Narita. "I- I'm sorry," he said, downcast. "It just reminded me of a mission I was on."
Playing along, Dr. Possible put her hand on his shoulder. "Where was it?" she asked kindly.
"Columbia," he said breathing deeply.
"Columbia?"
Everyone turned to see Kim Possible halfway through the doorway. She stepped towards Dutch, arms crossed. "What mission were you a part of in Columbia?" He couldn't possibly be him; it would be too much of a coincidence.
"You should talk about it," Dr. Renton said. "My father always felt more normal when he'd discuss being in Vietnam than when he kept his memories tied up in his head."
Dutch sighed. "It was a disaster…" he began. As he talked, Kim listened in rapt attention.
He didn't want to move.
Within his mind, he felt a tugging, the presence of SOMETHING else. A nagging feeling that he wasn't alone in the complex. Though his door was open, he cowered in the corner of his room.
He screamed at himself in his head. Stupid, weak, coward! Pissing yourself, you fucking weak piece of shit, move! His body rocked and shivered, and he fell to his side, his head banging the floor with an audible thud. The pain and vague insensibility was a welcome respite from the terror; he stood, wobbly, and faced the door. Alarms clicked with the rising and falling lighting. Outside, waves of lights beckoned towards an exit, but he shied away from the proper direction.
Where am I, he thought immediately. Can I get out of here? As he stumbled forward, bracing himself against the wall, he felt something wet under his palm as he made to turn down another hall. Under the dim, already red lights it wasn't clear, but he knew what it was. Glancing down, he saw that it had practically flooded the hallway here; a puddle of entrails lay in the corner.
It was all he could take. He crumpled to the floor, and he wished himself smaller; as the faint from lack of sleep, food, and the shock took hold, he almost felt pleased as he actually began to shrink.
Thank god, he thought as he shrunk into a fist-sized ball.
After learning that he was new in town, without a car, and that he didn't even have a place to live, Kim's mom insisted on inviting Dutch for dinner. They rode back to the house in silence; Kim watched Dutch out of the corner of her eye.
A mercenary. He did what she did, but for money. Was that what she was destined to do? If things kept going the way they did, she'd eventually run out of favors, and she couldn't exactly live on save-the-world work. Occasionally, she'd been asked about enlistment by various branches of the service, but she hadn't taken them seriously. Plus, there was the whole following orders thing. She didn't like being told to clean her locker by Mr. Barkin, let alone take orders from a bunch of Will Du-type officers either.
And what about Ron?
Surprised, she sat up. What about him? What would he do? It wasn't as if he could just follow her into whatever field she went into. He'd picked up some skills from her, but he was still pretty clumsy and scrawny. Now she was all confused. If she picked up something else, maybe something more dangerous, requiring more skill, she couldn't have Ron tagging along behind her like a lovesick puppy.
She scolded herself inwardly, but part of her knew it was the truth. Ron had followed her out of loyalty as a friend at first, but more recently, she'd gotten a different vibe from him, something that wasn't completely platonic. There was just too much risk for him if feelings were involved. For her as well?
Shaking her head, she tried to bring herself to bear on the situation at hand. There was time to think about her self later. Dutch sat opposite her in the back of the minivan. She looked at him again, and felt a grin coming to her face. The seat was setup for Jim or Tim, and he'd been too polite to change the setting. His large frame crammed into the seat with his massive forearms perched on the skinny armrests was a bit comical. Kim bit her lip to keep from laughing, but a noticeable grin escaped.
He caught her, and smiled back, albeit a little curious.
"Your mission, was this time for a government agency?" he asked. Kim blushed slightly and looked down.
"No, it was a hunch on my own curiosity," she replied, sighing. "It was probably dangerous and stupid to boot."
"Young and invincible," he said, raising his eyebrows.
"Well, part right."
That evening after dinner while Dutch regaled the enrapt twins with tales (slightly censored, of course) of his days as a mercenary, Kim called Ron over to the house. She waited for him to arrive, feeling sicker to her stomach as the time passed. With a groan, she headed downstairs when she heard the doorbell.
"Hey, how's it going Dutch?" Ron said as he entered, shaking the snow off his jacket.
"Pretty good chief," Dutch replied. "Come on in, I was just about to tell Jim and Tim here about this time in Cambodia that me and these two- uh, never mind, I'll tell you later. How about the time I took a raft over Victoria falls to get away from some…" Kim took his hand, surprising him, and pulled him towards her stairs.
"Sorry Dutch, I got a previous engagement, er, date, I mean-" Ron sputtered.
"Come on Ron," Kim said rolling her eyes.
Upstairs, she sat him on her bed. She sat down next to him. As she put her hand on his, he tensed up. He looked at her, and gulped. Kim sighed.
"Don't get your hopes up yet, Casano-duh," she said with a lopsided grin.
"Wha-huh? I mean, it's no big, but if the effects of the moodulator are kickin' back in, I just want to take it slow, OK?" he said.
Kim rolled her eyes. "Sorry Ron, but I'm not looking to jump your bones," she said smiling. "I want to talk to you about our…us." Ron frowned. "Don't get me wrong, you, we, work well together, but things change. Specifically, we change. Or, I guess, I change. I mean, it's about-"
"It's about whether or not I can keep up on the missions, isn't it?" Ron said, his head slowly lowering.
"No! Well, maybe," Kim said, trying to recover.
"Kim, I know I can do it!" he said standing. "I mean aside from keeping away from Shego's hands, we don't really fight anybody who's all that dangerous, do we?"
"I just think…Ron, we've been damn lucky just way too much." Kim took his hand and pulled him back the bed.
"Hey, I got mad dumb luck skills," he said, then crossed his eyes. "I think."
She smiled. "I know; it's been a great help."
"Yeah, 'been'," Ron said with a sour expression forming on his face.
"I just don't want to you to get hurt," Kim said. "I'm planning on going back to Brazil, and-"
"WHAT? No way Kim, you saw what happened to Shego!" Ron shouted, grabbing Kim by the arm.
"Ron, mellow! We don't know what happened to her and that's- " she said.
"Right, we don't know," he said still holding on, "and that's why you need me with you, not running off solo and half-cocked."
"Oh, and what good will you-" Kim started and quickly clapped a hand on her mouth. She turned towards the wall, away from Ron's shocked face, and waited for the comeback. However, he said nothing, and as she sat, she heard his footsteps on the stairs from her room. "Good one, Kimberly Anne Possible," she said quietly to herself.
He rode his scooter to the edge of town, and sat down on top of a hill overlooking Middleton. "Damn it," he said, wiping away another tear. "Stop."
As he watched the light of the sun fade away, he felt helpless. The night slowly overtaking the sky, the slow appearance of the stars, and he felt insignificant compared to everything; stars so far away they would take billions of years to burn out, yet would do so before he could get halfway to them, empty space so vast between worlds that a speck of dust was a major event. His pathetic frame was even more so, a pointless existence on a dirty ball of rock. He had no value. So why did it matter that Kim had pushed him away?
His cell phone beeped. Glancing at it, he saw who it was on his caller ID, and punched ignore. He held it in front of him for a moment longer, then clicked open his phone book. Depression set in deeper as he saw only Kim and Felix's numbers listed. He rang the latter, and waited.
"Ron, what's up my man?" Felix said, upbeat as usual. It made Ron smile a little.
"Hey, I was wondering if you'd be up for a game of Zombie Rancher?" he replied.
"Sure, man, but check this! My mom's at the hospital, and they've got this bomb-ass digital projector in the conference room," Felix said. "We can rig the Z-box to play on the screen!"
"Sounds sweet. I'll see you there." Ron flipped his phone off, and sighed. Better than moping, he thought.
As he arrived, walking passed a guard sitting asleep at the front desk, he turned his cell phone off. No point in fielding game-age interruptions from Kim. Felix was waiting for him in the lobby, and gave him a wave from across the big room. Ron nodded, and held up the wireless controller set he'd brought.
"Trying to beat me by messing with my chair, huh?" Felix said with a grin.
"Like I need that," Ron said.
"Hey, at least it's better than using cheat codes, eh Ron?" he replied.
"Kim told? Ah, man-" he started then notice Felix's smirk. "I mean, um, if I used cheat codes, that is."
"Busted," Felix said, giving him a wink.
"Damn it!" Shego shouted as she tossed the second guard over her shoulder. She'd twisted herself the wrong way, as she was still unused to the new arm. It flexed farther and further than her natural one had. Looking both ways, she chopped the police officer that'd been struggling to get to his feet on the neck, and ran for the stairwell, slashing the phone of the stunned nurse as she flew by in her light gown.
"Oh, boo-ya!" Ron shouted.
"Oh, you are so going down Stoppable," Felix said, biting his tongue in concentration.
"Not likely," he replied, nudging Felix's arm with a free elbow.
"Oh, so that's how you want to play it, huh?" he said, and pushed a button on his wheelchair. Two thin, metal tendrils whipped out and began rapidly pushing buttons alongside his hands.
"Hey, no cybernetic enhancements!" Ron cried.
She slid down the banister, barely able to tuck and roll at the end of her slide. The glass window at the turn of the staircase gave a view of the outside, but there was nothing to grab nearby; Shego growled, but burned a hole anyway. Swinging herself out onto the ledge, she saw the parking garage at the opposite end of the building. She began to slowly inch her way along it, back pressed against the wall.
"Yo, Ron, this place got vend-age?" Felix said.
"Yeah, first floor, lobby, then off in the west wing," Ron said, absentmindedly mashing buttons in a mini-game. The game high had lasted about a half an hour before Kim's words came back and settled into the front of his conscious mind again. Felix whirred out of the room, leaving Ron in his thoughts. Suddenly tired, he glanced out the window. His jaw dropped.
"Goddamn, bastard, son of a bitch," Shego muttered as she unsuccessfully tried to keep the flimsy hospital robe closed in back. "Jeez, one friggin' tie and it's practically between my shoulder blades."
OK, thought Ron still staring mouth agape, there's only one person who has skin that green all over and long black hair. Now what is she doing climbing along the window ledge? How did she get out? Is her ass better than Kim's? Leaving the last one to the philosophers, Ron leapt up and headed for the window. Shego had already passed by, but there weren't many places she could go. OK, he thought, be cool about this. What would Kim do? Hop out the window? Yeah probably, but that isn't exactly my thing.
Wait, he thought, that's just it. It's Kim's thing, and you need prove yourself to her. Go for it man! Gulping, he creped over to the window and pressed his face against it. Obviously, Shego was heading to the parking garage. Could he…? Sure, no problem, he thought as he quietly slid the window open. The ledge wasn't that narrow, and besides, even if he did fall, he was already at a hospital.
He gulped again.
"I can't believe you couldn't hold Shego for one stinking day!" Kim said, stomping and pacing. On TV, a live broadcast was being shown from in front of the hospital. The announcer droned in a monotone about the situation with mostly uninformed and theoretical comments.
"Me? Kim, you're overreacting and taking it out on me," her mom said. "I didn't do any work on Shego." However, the way she furrowed her brow made Kim narrow her eyes.
"Mom, what happened?" she said.
"Well, it wasn't up to me, I swear. My Kimmy's arch foe unable to hurt her wasn't something I was all that unhappy about," she said shrugging her shoulders. "That may sound a bit cold, but Shego is the one villain I worry about you taking on. I mean, those hands of hers…"
"Mom, get to the point," Kim cried.
"Sorry honey. Well, Dr. Renton thought she'd do her a favor, and used her as a test subject for a new type of bionic arm. I know, I know, she should have gotten consent, but it seemed easier to do it while Shego was unconscious. She used the Hippocratic oath to try and justify it, trying to say that it would 'ease her transition' or some other nonsense like that," she said and turned to her husband. "You need to talk to her about that dear. It just isn't right to do that sort of thing."
"Well, she has been talking up a storm about that new neural interface she designed for it, and, personally, I thought it was pretty cool myself…what?" Dr. Possible said, looking quizzically at his wife and daughter who had both leveled rather intense scowls at him.
"Well, what ever happens, I'll just find her again," said Kim clenching her hands. "She's a problem, but not an immediate one."
"Kim, you might want to change your mind about that," a voice from her pocket said. She pulled out her kimmunicator.
"What's the sitch?" she said.
"Check the news Kim," Wade replied. "There's something worse."
"Worse than Shego getting away? I'd be surprised. Well, not really that surprised considering my life," she said.
"It's your friend, Ron," Dutch said, a grim expression on his face as he watched the television. "Shego got him."
"Oh no…" Kim said, placing a hand over her mouth and sinking to the floor, as Ron's face appeared on the screen. He had a confused expression and half a naco inside his mouth at the time of the photo.
"Hold on," he said. "It's not like that. He just got kidnapped, that's all."
"Just kidnapped?" she said exasperated.
"Sorry, but he's alive at least, right?" Dutch said apologetically.
"Ugh. You're right," she said. "But how am I going to get him back? I guess that I'll have to-"
"Already got a lock," Wade piped up.
"Spankin' Wade," Kim grinned.
"You got him lo-jacked or something?" Dutch said with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, sort of."
Shego looked back at the unconscious and tied-up Ron in the trunk space of the hatchback she'd stolen. Shit, she thought, why the hell did I take him with me? I never do the kidnap thing unless it pays off, and this'll just get Kim Possible after me. She concentrated, and thought hard. The airport was the best bet; she could jack a corporate jet and get to Brazil from Dr. D's new lair in Columbia in twenty-four hours. Easy as pie.
Abruptly, she noticed her unwanted new arm and scarred shoulder. Also, wasting the bitch who gave me this will be just the trick to get me back on track, she thought, and pushed the gas pedal as far as it would go.
He heard sniffling.
Though he couldn't see very well from the crack in the floor he'd hid in, he knew whoever it was wasn't a threat. He steeled himself and slowly grew, keeping an eye in both directions. Down the hall near his former cell, a small black girl, barely in her teens if that, sat against the wall. She was balled up with her face buried in her arms, and didn't notice him until he spoke.
"Are you hurt?" he said gently. She looked up shocked. Seeing his prisoner garb, she fell away from him as her hands scrambled for purchase on the wall behind her.
"Hey, hey, whoa," he said grabbing her arm; she flinched and tried to pull away, but he held her wrist. "OK, yeah, I look like a train wreck, and yeah, I'm wearing guest clothes, but I'm a good guy. Trust me and calm down, OK? What's your name?"
She seemed to relax a little. "Margaret. Margaret Anne Load." That opened the floodgates. Abruptly, she began rattling off questions left and right. Who was he, where did he come from, how did he get out, what was that thing? At the last one he visibly shuddered, and he motioned to her to pause for a moment. She stopped and cocked her head.
"Um, do you work here?" he asked.
She nodded. "Uh huh. I'm a Harvard graduate; the EPA biological research branch sought me out, and offered me a job here to do work for them."
"How old are you?"
"Fifteen," she said with a big grin.
"Jesus, fifteen, how the hell do they justify…" he muttered, but decided to try and concentrate on the matter at hand. "Well, are you hurt?"
"No, just scared," she said, and she suddenly appeared to remember the situation they were in. He saw she was about to start bawling again, and headed her off.
"Look, if you're not hurt, buck up OK?" he said with as firm a voice as he could muster from his own terror. "I'm a spy, true enough, but I just spy, right? I won't hurt you, and right now we need to stay together. Hey, check this out, I've got a little trick to help take your mind off…it." With a deep breath, he shrunk as small as he could and back to normal as fast as he could do it. She stared gape mouthed at him.
"Oh. My. God," she managed to get out. "THAT WAS SO COOL! How do you do that, how does your suit shrink too, where does the extra matter go, does it convert into energy, are you unstable, radioactive, boneless-?"
He cut her off again. "Sorry, but there'll be more time for questions at the end of the tour, and right now I'd like to stop this one. How do we get out of here, and how fast can you show me the way?"
OK, where am I, and why does my head hurt as bad as it does? Ron kept his eyes closed, and gradually accustomed himself to the rhythmic pounding in his head. Slow, slowly it became a dull steady roar, and he realized it was from an engine of some kind. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he glanced around. An airplane cabin, he was almost certain. A look to his right out the window and the ocean far below confirmed it. He stood just as a sickeningly familiar voice spoke.
"Comfy?" Shego stood in the aisle, arms across the narrow cabin. Her gaze was almost murderous, and frantic in a way Ron hadn't seen before. He swallowed, mostly to get the bubbles out of his ears, but he glared at her.
"Oh, don't give me the tough guy routine," she said with a smirk. "I know you too well for that."
"Yeah? What do you know about me?" he replied, but his voice almost cracked.
"Touchy, touchy," she said. "Sit down, doofus."
That was that. He'd roll over on insults from Kim, but not from Shego. Growling, or sort of shouting with a raspy voice, Ron charged towards the pilot's cabin. Not surprisingly, he suddenly found himself on the floor looking up at the ceiling with Shego on top of him and holding a glowing finger six inches from his nose. For some reason thought he felt remarkably calm, and it felt good. Despite the whole being tackled by a villainess with plasma hands about to rip his face off, he more surprised at having done so. In fact, he was so relaxed the fact that Shego was straddling him wasn't all that uncomfortable in the least.
It dawned on Shego that Ron wasn't as fleshy as he had been a moment or two before. "Ugh!" she exclaimed with a disgusted look, hopped up, and with a yank slammed Ron back into a nearby seat.
"Hey, it's got a mind of it's own," Ron said with a lopsided grin. "After all, I did just wake up."
"Whatever," she said walking back to the pilot's cabin. "Stay in your seat; I'll put this frigging thing on autopilot and throw you out the door in a nanosecond if I have to."
Man, that was fun, he thought. As she walked back, he couldn't help but notice the way her hips moved. Wait a minute, he thought, I'm checking out Shego! Kim's arch foe! Then with a shrug, well, can I blame me?
"No, I can't," he said aloud, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head. He glanced around the passenger compartment. It was a small but impressively furnished corporate jet. A phone was built into the back of the headrest in front of him, and he picked it up; predictably, there was no dial tone. With a cursory look around the cabin it was obvious the only exit to the plane was right by the crew compartment. Pretty much nothing to do but sit back and enjoy the ride. As he was about to tit the seat back and think, a cabinet across the cabin caught his eye.
"Well now, I'm stressed enough to need a good stiff drink, aren't I Kim?" he said aloud sarcastically. "Oh that's right, you're elsewhere, and besides, you don't need me." He walked over and opened the doors, uncovering a plethora of colorful, mostly full bottles and glasses of all shapes and sizes.
"Shego, are you there?" Dr. Drakken said, tapping on the call button repeatedly.
"Gah, yes, stop keying the mike." she said. "Do you have the landing strip at the new base ready yet? I'm coming in with a Pippen 2350, so it won't need too much of a runway. By the way, that synth-clone of yours the cops-"
"WHAZZZZAAAAAAHHHP?"
"Shego, what was that?" Dr. Drakken said, raising one eyebrow.
"GIVE ME THAT! Damn it, hold on…" Shego said, and her voice faded. In the background, Drakken could hear various thumps and crashes, occasionally punctuated by Shego's blue language and an occasional "Boo-ya!" followed by more feminine swearing. Finally, Shego came back on, breathing heavily. "Sorry Dr. D, I'd had to take care of the Tasmanian drunk."
"Um, well, yes, that's interesting, but I'm afraid you can't land just yet," the good doctor said. "I'm afraid the robot legions I developed this time went on a rampage and took out most of the airstrip."
"What again? Ugh, this is just like the time you built an automatic minelayer that had no guidance system," Shego said, slapping her forehead.
"Yes, well at any rate, make a course correction to the Caymans, and I'll see you there in a day. Drakken out." Shego tossed the headset over her shoulder, and groaned. She kicked her feet up on the console and tapped the autopilot switch with her foot, rubbing the bridge of her nose all the while. Now what? She could head to the Caymans, but there was still the now rather intoxicated dope in the back, and he wasn't the same as before.
There was something different about him, and she couldn't quite place it. She stood and headed back to the cabin. The teen stared at her bleary eyed but fiercely from over the large quantities of duct tape she'd applied. Sauntering up to the chair across from him, Shego reached over as she sat down and ripped the tape off his mouth. To his credit, he merely flinched; she smiled. Just a little; he was pretty sloshed after all. Where had he got all that liquor?
"Well, doofus, I guess it's just you and me until your girlfriend shows up to save your loser ass," Shego said, crowing. In response, Ron kicked out and nailed her in the shins.
Several wraps of duct tape later, she sat back down. "Now, where were we? Oh yeah, I was threatening you, and teasing you about your redheaded friend slash fuck-buddy." Ron scowled back at her.
"She's just a friend," he said, glaring at Shego.
"Oh really? I figured you two, you know, being teen friends and all, screwed like rabbits," Shego said with a grin while making an in and out motion with her hands, and grinning broader when Ron blushed. "Oh man, is this going to be fun. Hey, let's play a game. I'll guess who she's been giving it up to instead of you, and you tell me if I'm right or not. Ready? How about that preppy boy I saw her with at the restaurant. I bet he's got a hard one, young guys always do. Probably doesn't last long, but she doesn't know any better, am I right?"
"Fuck you."
"You wish dud muffin," she replied. "I mean, if you can't even get into the pants of a girl who's been your best friend for what, ten years," and pointing her palm inward, "how the hell would you have half a chance with-"
"Somebody who does anything for money?" Ron said sporting a smirk. "Hey, I got a quarter in my pocket; that should just about cover it right?" Shego slapped him hard, the smack raising an audible echo in the empty cabin and pulled him away from some of his tape bindings; had she'd used her good hand she would have taken his face off. Her entire body except for her cybernetic arm glowed a vivid jade green. She leaned in close, as her teeth ground together; her prosthetic hand clenched around his neck, and ripped him out of the improvised restraints.
"Whatever," he choked. Ron didn't care, not after what Kim said. He'd faced Shego down twice in one day now, and with that under his belt, he felt he'd proven something. Maybe not to Kim, maybe not to anybody who mattered, but he'd surmounted a place inside himself that had held him back for too long. He stared back at Shego with a flat gaze.
"Bastard," Shego said, and tossed him back in the seat. She turned so she wouldn't have to see the triumphant expression on his face, and so he couldn't see the sudden and inexplicable humiliation on hers.
Kim sat on the edge of the cliff and threw one rock after another off. She heard a noise behind her and turned to see the man called Dutch and Mr. Barkin standing with tight lips. Expecting the worst, she turned back to the vista in front of her. She remembered one time Ron and her had been bored and they'd come out here. They'd been twelve and thirteen respectively. She'd just had her thirteenth birthday party the day before. Ron had asked Kim what it was like to be a teenager, and she had shrugged.
"I don't know anymore than I did the day before yesterday," she said mouthing the words she'd said those few years ago. They still rang a chord in her. It seemed like the more she learned about the world, the more she realized she didn't know.
"Neither do we," Dutch said, and reached down to pat Kim on the back. "But I think we can help you change that."
"Damn right," Mr. Barkin said.
"Mr. Barkin," Kim said, staring up a little surprised.
"Call me Steve-o during ops Possible," he replied. "Keeps the flow, feels good, feels right."
She grinned, and stood up with a hand from Dutch. "So, what's the sitch? What did you do before being a teacher Mr. B- er, Steve-o?"
"Mercenary in various parts unknown, not important. Let's just say I can help you, probably better than the Ron can," he said. "Oh, and Possible? You call me Steve-o in school, I'll have you in detention for a year."
A whirr filled the air, and a flattening off the grass took Kim by surprise. Without warning, a helicopter faded into view overhead. Kim shielded her eyes as dust and debris spun around the field on top of the overlook. When Dutch nodded, she grabbed the proffered rope ladder that had been tossed down from the side of the chopper.
"Oh and Steve-o," she said as she placed a foot on the ladder. "Nobody can replace Ron." Mr. Barkin said nothing, but cracked a smile. Climbing, Kim knew something was different, that was certain. It was a connection, and it felt good, like the line had been cleared, and it was only she and the other person, just her and Ron on the party line phone.
As the chopper recloaked and rapidly headed south at a rapid rate, they checked plans. Kim wanted to go to Brazil, but Dutch believed Sego would find Dr. Drakken first. As he listened, Mr. Barkin studied maps and imagery of the Columbian area surrounding Dr. Drakken's newest lair. He squinted, and tapped Kim on the arm.
"Better take a look here," he said. "According to these recent photos, a recently built air strip where we supposed this Drakken fellow was hiding just got turned into a series of craters."
"Lucky for us we have a chopper," Kim said not paying attention.
"No, I mean the jet stolen from Middleton regional was a corporate jet," Dutch said, rubbing his chin. "That means she won't be able to land anywhere nearby."
"Wade, can you find out where Drakken's latest hideout…Wade?" Kim stared confused. Instead of Wade, there was a voice mail screen. "Where is he?" she began to say, but stopped as a video message began.
"Kim, I'm sorry, but I can't help you right now. My older sister hasn't called home in a week, and my parents were called away by the agency that hired her last winter," Wade's image said. "I know something's going on, so I called in one of your favors. Sorry about that, but I'll pay you back I swear. If you desperately need me, I'll be in Brazil." His image switched off and the kimmunicator went blank.
"Wade, what are you trying to do to me?" Kim said, resting her hand on her forehead.