Authors notes and Disclaimer: This takes place early in the Kim Possible Universe, but not the one we know from television. The following is an idea that fermented after watching the episode Crush a fifth (or was it ninth) time. What is their real mission? Tho I was once a Disney employee, I own not the KP experience nor it's offspring of merchandise. I receive nada, zip, zilch and also a lot of nothing for these forays into fictitious en devours.

The diminutive operative, clad in black from head to toe, tapped the ear bud communications device twice. A single long low tone came as a reply. The operative walked steadily to the front door of the cracker box-sized, one story house and, counting down from the signal received, kicked in the flimsy plywood laminate entryway. A similar crash came from from the rear door at the exact same time. Two dark, inky figures raced into the small living room through the broken portals, guns drawn. "I.J. Don't move!" the smaller one, just inside the front door screamed.

Sitting at a table in the middle of the room, five men looked from one of the flanking intruders, the speaker, then to the other. The oldest and obviously leader of the group stood slowly, arms raising to the ceiling. "I.J.? What is that? Some kind of new International Justice group?" He spoke with a crisp Middle Eastern accent.

"Close," the black clad figure that had broken in through the back door growled. "As if it matters to you. This terrorist cell is shut down."

A young underling, his facial hair just starting to sprout on his unwashed face, grabbed for a gun sitting on the table. "Allah Akbar! Allah be Praised!" he screamed. As he raised the pistol to aim at the intruder that had threatened, a small 'phuft' was barely heard in the rooms confines. A 9 mm hollow point bullet penetrated the back of his skull and exploded out the front. Blood, hair and pieces of flesh splattered the table covered with maps and various other pieces of covert plans, leaving very little of his face intact.

The smaller I.J. agent just inside the front door smiled a wicked smile. "Allah was just joined by one of his disciples. He will meet four more of his lackeys if anyone else tries that. That's if ALLAH," the voice dripped with venom at the name, "even exist!"

Fists clinched. Teeth bared and upper dentures ground against their lower counterpoints. Obvious rage filled the eyes of the four accused terrorists. The scene in the small room went into slow motion. The men at the table reached for their weapons, but were way outclassed. Lead from the black specters at both doors flew and cut them down before any of the terrorists could raise their guns, let alone get anywhere near aiming them at their executioners.

As slight wisps of smoke curled from the silencer on the gun barrel, the front door intruder walked over to the leader of the fallen group. He moaned and rolled, side to side, from his near fatal wounds. "Just so you know," the black clad agent chimed sweetly, "it's Inter-Galactic Justice." The gun hissed again and sent one last round between his wide staring eyes. "And this planet's petty squabbles will soon be over if we have anything to say about it."

Five minutes later the two black enshrouded figures gracefully vaulted a fence and made for the cabana by the pool. They crept quietly into the room. "Your parent home yet?" the smaller one asked the other.

"I don't think they should be. They're suppose to be out of town at some big conference for Daddy's company. They're not going to be back until the middle of next week. Anyway, Daddy's up for a big promotion and he always wants to make a good impression so he'd stay until doomsday if it meant getting a leg up on the competition."

"Good," the first sighed, removed black leather gloves and turned on the lights. Removing the Beretta and shoulder holster, the one pressed a concealed button. The wall slid to the side revealing a display of armaments that would impress even the most hard core collector. Weapons were placed in their proper spots. "Toss me your stuff, I'll put 'em away."

The second tossed the gun and belt of spare clips to the first. A petite hand reached up and removed the black stocking cap, revealing short brown hair. Stripping out of the heavy, charcoal black, wool SAS sweater, the now obvious feminine figure said, "God, when are we going to get a difficult assignment." Jet black combat boots, socks and rip-proof nylon pants followed the cap and created a pile on the floor.

"Don't know, don't care. I could do missions like these in my sleep and I love 'em," the first enthused as she started her own pile of clothing. "Are you going to take a shower?" she asked as she shook out her long platinum blond hair, ruffling it with her hand.

"I don't know T. I think I will, even though I didn't work up a sweat."

"Did I get any blood on you from the first guy I capped B?"

"No you didn't T." She smiled in thought. "I just love the way a shower feels after a mission." She turned to her companion and in a sultry voice asked, "You want to join me? We could fool around a bit."

The petite blond gather their clothes in a bundle and put them in a cloth laundry bag. "No B. I think I'll wait for my husband. Thanks anyway." She put the bundle of clothing on a wicker chair sitting against a wall and watched as the chair sank swiftly into a shaft that had opened below it. Seconds later an empty identical chair quickly replaced the first. Her soft blue eyes lit up. "If you want to hold off on your shower, you can join us later. Right now we could lay out by the pool until he gets here."

The brunette padded over to her friend and partner and smiled. "Oh, that would be fun. We can cuddle until he gets here." She reached over and unhooked the blond's bra. "Let me help you."

The two nude teenaged females walked arm in arm, exploring each other's private areas, and sank onto an over sized chaise lounge, sinking into each others embrace. They were starting to kiss when the brunette pushed out of the hug. "Oh, rats!" she muttered. "Your husband is coming." The blond pulled her compadre in for one last long kiss.

"Ladies! Is this a game for two or can I join in," the straw-haired boy quipped as he approached the pool area.

The platinum blond broke from the buss and swiftly jumped into her husbands arms. "Ronnie-kins!" she delightfully squealed as she wrapped her legs around his torso and started a long, extremely wet French kiss.

The brunette rolled off the chaise and stood up. "Hi Ron. How was your mission?" She waited a moment before she shrugged and walked over to the cabana. She got a bottle of wine out of the refrigerator, grabbed three glasses and padded back to the lounge. She deftly opened the bottle and filled the three stemmed vessels, setting them on the low table next to the chair. She reclined in the chaise and sipped her wine. Sarcasm dripped for her moist lips as she asked, "Are you two going to mate now or would you like a drink?"

Ron finally came up for air. "Sorry Bon Bon. Tara and I haven't been able to get any alone time for a couple of days now. KP's been very random lately and I've had to do my thing."

Tara wiped the built up saliva around her mouth on his shirt, burying her head in his shoulder. "Random? How so?" she inquired loud enough for her brunette friend to hear.

The tow headed boy chuckled. "She has a major crush on Josh Mankey and can't get up the nerve to ask him to the Spring Fling Dance. It's been hilarious to watch."

The two girls broke into a uproarious laugh. The platinum blond finally caught her breath and said, "Yeah, it was a riot when we were doing the Mad Dog Pyramid and she lost her balance. When she fell, she brought down his banner and wrecked it!" They all had a good laugh in remembrance.

Ron, with little ceremony and much agility, stripped off his clothing and accepted a glass of wine offered by his wife. "Thanks Tara, my love. It's a shame these bodies are only fourteen. Otherwise we could enjoy this wine without fear of local authority and their age prejudiced ideals," he cooed and gently kissed her lips. He turned and fully kissed Bonnie before returning to the blond, laying next to her. Nuzzling into the petite alabaster neck, he questioned, "Bonnie, what did you ask me when Tara and I were saying hello?"

"I asked how your mission went," Bonnie stated and noisily slurped down the rest of her wine.

Ron laughed out loud. "Oh, Bon Bon!" he quickly controlled the belly laugh at her obvious lust for him. "My mission? Same ol' same ol'. I played the buffoon, let my pants fall down a couple of times, battled a giant robot, let Kim save the day, again! How about you guys."

"Took out a five man terrorist cell," Bonnie said with a wave of her hand. "Same ol' same ol'."

Ron felt a petite hand on his nether region and sighed. "Oh, Tara! As much as I want to make love to you," he gasped at her ministrations, "I believe it's time to check in."

Tara's hand stopped, then wandered up Ron's torso to his chest, dragging her razor sharp talons playfully along the way. She sighed. "Yeah, I guess so. But we haven't made love in days and I need my dose of Ron Shine!" Her voice began to plead. "Can't we call in late today?"

Bonnie got up off her lounge chair and bodily yanked Tara off her spouse. "We could, but with the time difference we'd run into big late call charges and blow our budget." Her face scowled. "Then we'd have to rely on our adoptive Earth parents for any supplies we need to buy. Ammo, wine, make-up!"

The last word hit home and Tara wriggled from her grip. "O.K." she said in defeat.

"Besides," Bonnie groaned as her hands caressed her breasts and then went south, "I haven't had a dose of Ron Shine in weeks. How do you think I feel?"

The three youths went into the cabana and sat at the bar. Ron snatched the remote and turned on the television, changing the station to channel 911. The screen went to snow but the audio came in clear. "Controller here. Report!" His voice reverberated from the hidden surrounding speakers.

"Tara here. Bonnie and I eliminated a terrorist cell of five about thirty minutes ago, sanction complete. Two days from now, we will sanction a U.S. General that has been pushing for the use of nuclear weapons in the Middle East. If that doesn't defuse the current tension in one weeks time, we will escalate to stage three. Of course more targets on both sides are awaiting sanctions if their attitude doesn't change."

"Very well. Proceed as you see fit. Ron, Report."

"Ron here. I'm proceeding nicely with my observations of Earthling teens and their various problems and potential. My main focus, Kim Possible, is an extraordinary example with her fight against Super Villains but is having major troubles coping with the dating scene. For someone who's motto is 'I can do anything,' she has little idea about the opposite sex. I might have to step in and become her boyfriend at some point just to settle her down."

"Ron, the Counsel doesn't think that is necessary yet. If she is still having problems in a year or two, then you may step in. But only if she is totally lost. But don't, by any means, force the issue. You might lose her friendship and years of valuable future observations could be lost."

Ron nodded. "I understand the Counsels wisdom in this sitch and will proceed with due caution. My only other concern is Kim doesn't have enough foes to tax her potential. May we create a couple more to test her mettle further?"

There was silence from the Controller for a moment. Finally he replied, "The Counsel will take it under advisement and return with their verdict at our next meeting. Felix, report."

"Bonnie here. Felix is accompanying his Earth Mother to a Cyber Robotics conference to show off his wheelchair. He reports there is still prejudice against the handicapped, but the sitch is improving. Especially among the teenage and preteen generations."

"Understood. Is there any other business?"

Bonnie spoke up hesitantly. "Bonnie here. I was wondering if I could alter my character a bit and be more kind to Ron and Kim Possible. Maybe even become friends with them. I feel terrible having to snark at Ron all the time."

"Negative. The Counsel would like you to continue your 'Queen Bonnie' persona for another year or two. At least until you are all Seniors at Middleton High. Then we will observe how Kim Possible reacts to the change in her chief rival."

Disheartened, Bonnie slumped in her chair. "Understood." She shrugged her shoulders at Ron. He simply smiled his goofy grin and waved her off. "At least with my next body change can I be a blond. It's said they have more fun." She looked over to Ron and Tara and winked knowingly.

"We will see what can be arranged." Ron silently applauded while Tara's smile glowed. The voice of the Controller said, "The Counsel would like me to pass along their praise for a job well done for the past two hundred fifty years and wish you well for the final fifty in your tour of duty. They would also like to reward you with a gift. Is there anything you need or desire?"

Bonnie grinned and spoke up. "Could you send us some fligbars or snatz cakes?"

The Controller laughed. "Wouldn't you rather have a case of Altunian wine?"

Bonnie shook her head and raised the glass in her hand. "No, the wines here are quite delicious. I'll send you a variety case on the return beam."

Ron brightened with and idea. "And I'll add in some Nacos."

"That would be most excellent," the Controller sang. "We always love to taste the Earth's cuisine. Our gourmets are having major difficulties replicating milk and its byproducts."

Tara looked puzzled. "You would think with all the cows the Explorer Class ships have taken from Earth, that the gourmets wouldn't have any difficulties."

The controller chuckled. "Yes, but the cow is such a bizarre creature. Can you imagine they only have four stomachs?"

"Yes," Tara chimed, "and even stranger is that humans only have one stomach and five senses."

"The Counsel is aware of those facts and find it fascinating on how you are able to survive in your human form."

"Well, it does make the Earth food more interesting," Ron said thoughtfully.

"Speaking of interesting," the Controller said, changing the subject back to work related issues, "how is Rufus Prime doing on his research?"

Ron looked over to a shelf in the cabana. Rufus was lounging on a doll-sized bed, watching a Soggy brand, SeeMan television. Rufus gave him the thumbs up sign and squeaked, "Spankin'."

Ron smiled. "Rufus is absorbing the cultures of the world and should have his report soon. There is a lot to learn about and it is increasing daily. This planet is evolving and growing at an alarming rate."

"That is why you were place on the planet," the Controller stated. "Now I must receive the reports from the group in Go City. Your supply beam will be at 2200 hours, local time tomorrow."

Thank you," the three teens sang in unison.

The Controller quickly shot back, "Jinx, you all owe me a flax bargett!"

"Oh, Man!" Ron groaned, "not you too!"

The three teens and one mole rat laughed in all their naked glory as they headed for the shower.

A/N: I took a short break from my book to write this. If anyone is wondering, the book is proceeding slowly. I have a few great chappies, a couple of good ones that need polish, and quite a few stinkers that need major overhaul.