M QUEST

CHAPTER ONE

"SATURDAY MORNING"

"So tell me again, Doctor D, why are we here," Shego asked, her face hidden behind a magazine.

"Because, Shego, why spend months designing some new fangled gadget to take over the world…"

"I've been asking that question now for the past couple of years."

"…when someone else has already done it for you?"

"Yeah, right. After seeing the results of your usual wacked out schemes, I can see why that's a good idea. Except for one thing. The people you usually steal from…"

"Outsourcing, Shego, outsourcing. We've already been over this."

"…outsourcing from, are even more wacked out than you. Do you see a pattern here, Doctor D? Let's see, I've been with you for six years now, and you've managed to conquer, what? My sanity? Which brings me back to my first question, why are we here?"

Dr. Drakken looked up from the piles of old newspapers, science books, and microfiche scattered about the table in front of him. "As a matter of fact, Shego, you're correct. What I should have been looking for are world-dominating ideas from the respected science community."

"Like the Princess's daddy-o? Smart move, antagonizing Kimberly more than usual."

"Precisely, Shego," said Drakken, ignoring her sarcasm. "We need to look for ideas that have been ignored in the past by cowards too afraid to push the scientific frontiers, ideas that no one in the present bothers to read but which are accessible to anybody with a valid I.D."

"Ah, so that's why I'm spending my day off thumbing through back copies of La Femme swimsuit issues while you pore through chemistry abstracts at the Middleton Public Library."

"Yes, plus I owe a two dollar fine on an overdue video."

"Let me see that—Lost in Space: Season One. Oh, I get it. You're going to kidnap the Possible family on a space rocket so you can annoy them to death."

"Very funny. Next to Snowman Hank, Dr. Zachary Smith was my TV hero, if you must know. Moreover, I have, indeed, found something. Look at this, a 1974 reference to a robotic brain manipulator patented by a Dr. Benton Quest. This obituary indicates he is now deceased, but I have no doubt his only son must have Dr. Quest's old notes. We only have to recreate his research, tweak it with some 21st century technology, and the world… Stop rolling your eyes in public places, Shego; it's not very polite. As I was saying, we first need to find a certain Jonny Quest who happens to live in Newport Beach, California. Up for a little surf and sun mission?"

"That's the smartest thing you've suggested all day, Doctor D."


At that particular moment, Kim Possible had her own important mission to complete, one she intended to fulfill in her pragmatic, single-minded way as she drove to the Stoppable's house so she could take her Best Friend Boy Friend, Ron Stoppable, to brunch when he returned home from Middleton's synagogue.

Several weeks ago, a certain incident happened. She didn't think about it too much at the time because of the urgency of their situation, but it was something she put on her mental backburner when the appropriate time came to deal. Her brothers had rebuilt her father's old 62 Sloth, and they were chasing Motor Ed and Shego down the streets and highways of Middleton. He had stolen Dr. Possible's experimental Kepler rocket booster and attached it to his Trans-Am. If the booster reached maximum velocity, the energy output would level the city of Middleton. Kim leaped onto Motor Ed's car and successfully deactivated the Kepler. No big.

What bothered her about that incident was the expression on Ron's face when their tech guru, Wade Load, unveiled a pair of gold electromagnetic rings that would allow her to crawl on the metallic surface of Motor Ed's Trans-Am. When the cover of the rings opened, Rufus began humming the opening measures of Wagner's Bridal March. Like many young women, Kim had imagined what it would be like stepping down the aisle of a church in an elegant white wedding gown, escorted by her father, to the strains of a pipe organ playing "dum dumta dum, dum dumta dum," not to the squeaks of a certain mischievous naked mole rat. She could not get Rufus's version out of her head, nor could she forget the look—of fright? embarrassment? mortification?—that appeared on Ron's face. He had this silly grin that quickly disappeared when he thought he saw the look—of anger? contempt? disgust?—that appeared on Kim's face. It was actually none of those particular emotions affecting Kim at the time, but rather a more exasperated get your head in the game, Ron feeling, like this was not the time or place to be discussing marriage plans when you're careening through the streets of Middleton at close to the speed of sound and trying to prevent an explosion that would eliminate Middleton from future Triple A road maps.

Graduation was approaching in June, and they had started making college plans. She thought about studying abroad, while Ron hoped to get into some nearby state college on the strength of his newfound football prowess. Did they have a future together? It was time to discuss the M Word, and nothing would deter Kim from her mission.

They had talked about such things as marriage in theoretical ways before they were a couple couple. During one of their games of Life, Kim had asked Ron if he'd like to have children (after he landed on "you just had a boy; put a blue peg in your car and collect $2000 from each player"). Ron panicked, similar to how he felt when parachuting at night over a shark-infested lagoon. "KP, I'm only 15."

"Not right now, Ron." You're such a boy, she thought as she threw a pillow at him. "Someday, when we are older, like adults." She wasn't necessarily thinking that their future children would be each other's.

"Oh. Sure, I suppose. But first, out will pop a little Petunia Penelope Possible, then maybe there'll be a Studley Startsky Stoppable," at which point they started an impromptu contest to see who could come up with the worst alliterative baby name for the other's future progeny.

But now things were different. Her best friend had become her boyfriend, and it was time for boyfriend to spill. What exactly were his intentions? Did he even have any intentions?

Kim started entertaining the idea of being a Mrs. Kimberly Stoppable when a moodulator device accidentally attached itself to her neck and manipulated the focus and intensity of her emotions. She had come up with 469 different font styles, sizes, and color arrangements to spell "Mrs. Kimberly Anne Stoppable-Possible," prioritized on an Excel spreadsheet, when her mother finally told her to go to bed. Then several weeks later there was that magical moment during the Diablo mission when Ron saved her and they sealed their true feelings for each other with a kiss at the Prom dance.

A few months after the prom, she broached the subject of the M Word with her father and mother as her relationship with Ron began to grow and change beyond just "best friends" that summer. She knocked on the door of Dr. James Possible's study. "Dad, can we talk about something?"

"Sure, Kimmie Cub, what's on your mind?"

"It's about the M Word."

"Whoa, you're a bit young for that, don't you think? And who did you have in mind?"

"Dad! I'll be 18 by next summer. As for 'who,' who do you think," she scowled. She then noticed the broadening grin on Dr. Possible's face. "Good one, Dad. I see where the tweebs get their tease genes. It's about Ron."

"What about Ronald? He hasn't asked…"

"No, no, nothing like that, yet. I just wanted to know, you know, just in case he did bring up the M Word, someday, what would you think? About Ron, I mean."

Dr. Possible looked at his daughter; for a micro-second he felt his chest tighten and his eyes mist, then he controlled his emotions like a world-class engineer. "Kimberly, this may surprise you, but your mother and I have been having this conversation about you and Ronald for the past 10 years. He's still a bit—make that a lot—rough around the edges. But if I had anything against him, you'd know before now. I was a bit of a high school dork myself, and I certainly never experienced the intensity of situations you and Ronald have faced together. But after 25 years of polishing at the hands of your mother, I've become the fine, ruggedly handsome man you see today." Kim snorted. "Kim," and the eyes started misting again—control, Jim, control—"I trust you, and by now you should know how I really feel about Ron."

"Thanks, Dad." She gave her dad a fierce hug around his neck.

"You betcha, Kimmie Cub." You've still got it, Jimbo.

A week later she had a similar conversation with her mother as Dr. Anne Possible helped Kim put away the laundry in her room. "…Kim, in a way, you've been treating Ron like he was your husband already for a long time," Anne had told her. "Think about how you've always referred to him for years as My Ron, as if 'My Ron' were some title or thing you owned, and not a real person."

Kim hadn't expected that. "But Mom, I do respect Ron as a person, more than anyone else."

"I know you do, dear. But when you know someone so closely for such a long time, it's very easy to start taking that relationship for granted because you assume it will always be there. Your father and I still work hard to not treat each other that way. Think about how Ron felt when you were crushing on that Eric thing. It's to your credit that you believed in Ron when he suspected something was wrong. But what pained me as much as seeing the hurt in Ron's eyes was seeing you assume that he'd still be there for you as your best friend." Kim sat on the edge of her bed, staring out the window, biting her lips.

The surgeon Anne Possible continued to make incisions into her daughter's emotional psyche. "Think about your own possessiveness whenever a girl expressed any interest in him. I'm sure there are other young women who would have liked to date someone like Ron, but backed off when they sensed you jelling." Kim's eyes started tearing and her nose running.

"All I ask is that you think about what I've said if you are really serious about your relationship going beyond just a high school boyfriend-girlfriend thing. You need to start thinking of him as his own person besides MyRon." At that point Kim fell back on her bed, covered her face with her pandaroo, and started sobbing in heaves. This was so not the conversation she had been expecting. "Honey, I don't mean to make you cry. I am so happy for you both. If and when Ron asks the M question, you'll have our blessing."

"Thanks, Mom. What about Ron?"

"Oh, I think Ron is still getting used to the idea that his new girl friend happens to be the prettiest, smartest, most talented young woman in Middleton. Give him time. When he starts thinking about the M Word, you'll figure out what you need to say and do. After all, we're Possible women: we know what's best for our men," said Anne Possible with a wink and a grin.

Kim gave her a hug. "You rock, Mom."

That conversation took place several months ago, and it was now quite apparent Ron had started thinking about the M Word. It was time for Mission mode. Plan: treat him to the all-you-can-eat pancake buffet at Waffles R Us, take a stroll to the lake, feed some ducks, and then lie down on a blanket where we can have a private conversation away from any tweebs or Bonnies. Then if Ron says what he's supposed to say, a little post conversation making-out would not be out of the question.

She rang the Stoppable's doorbell just a few minutes after they had arrived home from Temple Shalom. Mr. Stoppable was very pleased with his son's evolving relationship with Kim and directed her to Ron's room upstairs where he was changing out of his dress clothes. She knocked on his door before walking in. "Hey Ron."

"Ack, KP. Gimme a second, will ya?" He had just finished hanging his slacks and shirt in his closet. He pulled his familiar hockey jersey over his head and zipped up some very worn cargo pants that had barely survived one mission too many. They were still OK for weekend wear at home, but its days of heroic cover duties were over. Kim was amused at Ron's modesty; she thought it was cute, even though their missions sometimes required a detached look at each other in their mission skivvies.

She brought a bag of breakfast nachos as a bribe to Rufus so she could have Ron to herself this afternoon. "How's my wittle naked mole wat cutie pie doing today," she asked. Cooing baby talk to Rufus, where did that come from, she wondered. The implications caught her off guard. Rufus didn't mind; he was quite pleased with Kim's attentions and even more pleased with the bag of nacho snacks. "OK. Yum, yum," he squeaked, and then disappeared into the Bueno Nacho bag.

Kim and Ron lay next to each other, sharing a red and white checkerboard quilt on a gentle slope overlooking the small lake in the Middleton City Park, holding hands on a comfortably warm, cloudy afternoon. She wore a Club Banana lime-green lace cami and faded pink Capri pants. Ron let out a contented post-pancake belch. Kim rolled her eyes. "What's the sitch, KP? I may have gotten only a 71 on Barkin's last history quiz, but I'm not stupid. I know when I'm being set up." He rolled to his side, his head now propped on his palm. He started slowly tracing his fingers up and down Kim's arm from her shoulder to the inside bend of her elbow.

That's so not fair, Kim thought. Now you're really being the distraction. We'll have to discuss the S word soon after today's conversation. "A few weeks ago when we stopped Motor Ed and Shego from stealing my Dad's Kepler rocket booster, do you remember those electromagnetic rings?"

"Yeah, you were awesome, KP."

"Thanks. Do you remember what you were thinking when you first saw the rings, when Rufus started humming 'dah dah tadum, dah dah tadum?'"

"Oh, yeah, I remember. Sorry about that Kim. I guess I got a little nervous, and then you looked really mad or something, so…" He rolled onto his back again and stopped touching her arm.

Don't stop! She sighed. "Why do you think I would be angry, Ron? We were chasing a maniac car, and especially with the tweebs in the back seat, so not the right time or place for intimate boyfriend-girlfriend chats. But I've been thinking about rings, a lot, lately. And I wanted to know what you might be thinking, when we could talk about, you know, the M Word, in the right time and place."

"Well, how about next…ouch." He felt a sharp finger jab in the ribs. "Oh, you mean here…" You are such a boy, thought Kim. He folded his hands together across his stomach, started twiddling his thumbs. Kim waited, trying her best to be patient for the random thoughts of her boyfriend to interconnect and address the topic at hand.

After a minute or two of staring at the clouds, he said, "Gee, I dunno, Kim. I mean, I guess I've thought about maybe us, you know, being together that way. The micro-second about the rings when we chased Motor Ed and Shego—it was kinda nice, thinking of you and me, forever. But there are so many things to think about. You can go to college anywhere you want; I'm still not sure I want to. I like my little sister, and my mom and dad may need me around to help them out with Hannah."

"OK," said Kim. "I think I know what you mean."

"My family is Jewish. You know I've been reading and studying with Rabbi Katz? That's really important to me."

"Yes, I know, and I'm so proud of you. For a guy who barely passed Spanish, now you're practically an expert in Hebrew and Japanese." She smiled at him, but a tiny doubt began to grow, and she started to fear where Ron's conversation was heading. Life would be much easier if everyone would just give her a simple answer. Mom & Dad: yes, Kim, Ron's a great guy; when he asks the M question, say 'yes'. Ron: I love you, Kim, will you, uh, do the M Word, with me? Yes, Ron. Whoa, rewind to previous thoughts. The Y word: where did that come from? The sudden intensity of her wanting him surprised her.

"You know I would never ask or expect you to convert, and vice versa, right? We respect each other too much." He paused.

Yes, but…Kim's eyes watered and her nose started running.

"Kim, I want what's best for you, but I don't know if what's best for you and me is the same as what's best for us."

"So are you saying you don't want to get married to me?"

"No, Kim." Then as he saw her eyes grow in shock, "I mean, no, that's not what I'm saying." He sat up, then pulled her up as well, holding her shoulders between his hands. She looked away. Was my mother still right, that I take him for granted? Why am I feeling so rejected? Is it because I just assumed he'd always be available if I wanted him, but never thought about what Ron might want?

He gently turned her face so she was looking straight at him, their eyes inches away.

"What I'm saying Kim is this: you are the most important person in the world to me. When we go on our missions, my greatest fear is somehow losing you. I know, I'm the one who has the greatest chance of becoming toast, but since we've started dating, the thought of something happening to you, well, you know, it tears me up sometimes. As for marriage, I don't know, but that's because I'm a guy. I don't think much further in the future than what poison the school cafeteria's serving on Monday." She grinned a little.

"I'm saying that I can't imagine not being around you for the rest of my life. You seem to have been thinking about the M Word for a while now, and I want to know what's clicking behind those big green eyes. I'm saying that there are some hard questions for us to figure out, but we don't have to figure them out today." Kim sighed.

"Besides, my head hurts from having to think so hard on the weekend, and it's not even for Barkin's homework assignment. I could use a snackage break."

"Sorry, I brought stuff for only Rufus."

"Well, I was thinking more of some natural Kim snacks."

"Do you know how much I love you right now, Ron Stoppable?" Kim kissed him ferociously. Yum yum! At that moment, the communicator beeped.

Dee-Dee-DE-Deet. Grrr. "What's the sitch, Wade?"

"Hi Kim. Something's up with your favorite blue-green duo. Thought you'd be interested."

"OK." Another sigh. She looked at Ron, who gave her a plaintive it's what we do shrug. "Go ahead."

"Ever heard of a guy named Jonny Quest? He's this rich bohemian guy in his 50's, lives in a beach house, mostly surfs. But get this, when he was a kid, he used to travel all over the world with his best friend, getting into one adventure after another against some really wacked out bad dudes. He wore a black turtleneck all the time, his father was one of the world's most brilliant scientists, and he had this funny little pet that went with him everywhere."

"Yeah, so your point is?"

"I thought it might remind you of…never mind. Anyway, seems Dr. Drakken and Shego think that this Mr. Quest guy is hiding some of his father's old research papers on bio-robotic brain manipulation."

"Let's pretend Rufus was here and wanted an explanation," said Ron.

"Near as I can tell, it was pretty cool, advanced stuff. Wonder if your mom knows anything about Dr. Quest, Kim. Combine Dr. Possible's nano-robotics research with Dr. Bortel's moodulator, and you get the general idea. You could control someone completely with this stuff if it worked."

"OK, we're on it. Where to?"

"Los Angeles. I already have a C-130 waiting to transport you to LAX. Also, since you'll be in LA and dealing with you know who, it can't hurt to have the Sloth with you."

"I think you should also get these guys to take Kim's badical wheels," said Ron. "KP's gonna need something to cruise the beach boo-lay-vards with her Ron Dude."

"Riiight. I'll see what I can do, Ron."