Chatper two
Infinite Possibilities

"If you don't like the effects, don't produce the cause."
–George Clinton and the Funkadelics

Ever since she first encountered the young female ninja, Yori had always been a mystery to Kim Possible. From their brief acquaintance during a mission involving Monkey Fist and DNAmy, Kim was aware of only three things regarding Yori; that she was a capable combatant, that she was somehow tied to Ron's experiences as an exchange student in Japan and that she was seriously attracted to Ron. When Kim had questioned her regarding her feelings toward Ron, Yori only replied, "We share a bond of honor." Kim respected Yori, even liked her. But even if she wasn't quite ready to admit it, she still had issues regarding the martial artist and her relationship with Ron. Or as Monique would eloquently observe, Kim was "so jeallin'" over Yori.

Now Kim regarded the lithe young woman standing opposite her. The woman's posture was tense, a coiled spring waiting to be released. Her almond-shaped brown eyes radiated quiet confidence, grim determination. She stood silently between Kim and the Tempus Simia, and she would not give easily.

"Yori," Kim warned quietly. "I'm not here to fight, and I'm not here to steal the Tempus Simia."

"I know why you are here, Possible-sama," Yori answered, her Japanese accent flavoring her words. "Master Sensei had foreseen what you intend to do this night. You wish to use the Tempus Simia to alter the flow of history. And I cannot allow that."

Kim paced slowly around Yori, their eyes locking intently. "Amp down the drama, Yori," she explained. "I'm not trying to do anything major. I'm not going to try and kill Hitler, or board the Titanic and suggest that the captain steer the boat a little more South. I'm only trying to help Ron. Y'know, Stoppable-san?"

Kim was well aware of Yori's affection for Ron, and hoped that mentioning his name would give her leverage against the young ninja. If her bringing up Ron had affected Yori, she didn't show it. "Ron-san, yes. You wish to eliminate his fears. You see his fears as his failing, and wish to help him."

"Exactly," Kim answered. "No harm no foul, right?"

"Do you think you can do this?" an edge of anger sharpened Yori's voice. "Do you believe that you can simply travel to a key moment in his past and alter what has happened?"

"That's the general idea, yeah."

"And how do you plan to create this change?" Yori asked. "How would the younger Stoppable-san react to seeing you as you are now? How will you explain yourself to him?"

Kim shrugged her shoulders in calm repose. "I wasn't even thinking of seeing him. I was planning on just dropping a letter to the Health Inspector's Office, and have them look into that toxic spill upriver of Camp Wannaweep. They close down the camp, Ron doesn't have to spend the summer there, and all's right with the world. I don't even have to run into anyone."

"And you believe that you can do this thing?" Yori asked plainly.

Kim shrugged her shoulders. "Check the motto," Kim replied, her standard answer to any challenge. "I can do anything."

Yori regarded Kim with a mind-reader's stare for a moment. She then started to chuckle ruefully. "Possible-sama, your arrogance is as boundless as your talent! You believe you can alter Ron-san's existence, his very soul, as easily as you can alter the cut of a dress? If I were not so angered by your presumption, I would be amused!"

Kim clenched her fists, a familiar rage welling inside her. She had to remind herself of the sensor beams over the floor between her and the Tempus Simia, or she would have charged ahead in her anger to claim the idol. "You wanna back up that mouth, Yori?" she crouched low in a challenging posture, her right hand extended in a karate kata position.

"You would challenge me?" Yori almost sounded casual as she countered Kim's stance with a defensive position.

"I'm not here for a territory match, Yori," Kim intoned grimly. "I'm doing this for Ron."

"Are you?" Yori challenged. "Or are you doing this for yourself? Some sense that Ron-san is unworthy of you, perhaps? That he doesn't fit in your 'food chain'?"

The fierceness of Yori's accusation hit Kim like a fist in the gut. She pulled back from her pose and stared darkly at Yori. "What are you saying? I love Ron! He's had my back ever since Pre-K! I owe him, Yori! All I want is to help him!"

Yori stood up from her defensive stance and stared levelly into Kim's eyes again. She nodded, somehow satisfied with the honesty in the red-haired heroine's words. "You can do anything, Possible-sama?" she smiled as she asked the question. Before Kim could answer, Yori launched herself into a backflip, landing on her hands neatly between the sensor beams that still glowed dimly in the haze of the hairspray Kim had used to illuminate them. With a smooth cartwheel, Yori reached the pedestal where the Tempus Simia stood and touched the brow of the monkey statue.

A muffled implosion of air startled Kim from behind her. Kim turned around and watched, awestruck, as a pure white light glowed and expanded behind her. The light seemed to take the shape of a portal. "If you can do anything," Yori challenged, "then prove it. Step into the portal and see the results of your tampering. See what would happen if you were to remove the source of Ron-san's fears."

Kim looked at the portal, disbelieving. "Wha-what's happening here?" she turned her attention back to Yori. "What's going on?"

"The timestream is surprisingly flexible," Yori answered plainly. "With the power of the Tempus Simia, you may witness the results of your actions before you perform them. Do you dare to see the effect of your cause, Possible-sama?"

Kim gulped as she considered the reality of Yori's words. She could almost hear Ron's voice in her head; Time travel. A cornucopia of disturbing concepts. She stared into the maw of light before her, and recognized her own fear as she considered what Yori offered.

I have to know, Kim nodded. I have to know what happens...

She stepped into the portal, and into the timestream...


She was surrounded by darkness. Indistinct ebon shapes against a midnight backdrop. She wasn't sure if she was actually seeing them or experiencing them with some other sense. Her body seemed to have no weight, no mass, no dimension. So this is time-travel, Kim pondered as she considered the formlessness into which she dove headlong. Next time, I'll take the plane.

"Come to me, Possible-sama," Yori's voice intoned, seemingly from everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. Kim focused on the voice and felt her body gravitate toward a single point, a beacon in the chaos around her. She saw the young ninja, kneeling before a reflecting pond that seemed to form from the ebon substance of this realm out of time. She lighted next to Yori and knelt beside her.

"Your heart is noble," Yori declared, the tenseness she displayed in the museum fading, replaced by serenity. "And I doubt not that your intentions are honorable. But you would jump headlong into time, recklessly pursuing this goal above all others." Kim started to speak, to defend herself, but Yori lifted her hand to gently silence her. "Your determination is an admirable trait, Possible-sama. Your intelligence, your confidence, your desire to do good. These things make you who you are. But what you propose is no easy feat."

Yori picked up a small stone, and admired it for a moment. "You consider time to be some sort of fabric," Yori continued. "Like a tapestry, a vast design that could perhaps be unaffected by the removal of a single thread. Or a garment to be mended; if one portion of the fabric is worn, you feel it can be mended without cost to the rest of the garment." Returning her gaze to the reflecting pool, she continued; "But time is far more complex than that. It is like a pool, the still surface of the waters. Throw a pebble into the pool, and the ripples will spread out, until the entire surface is affected. Do you understand me, Possible-sama?"

Kim stared at Yori blankly; despite her innate intelligence, she found that she was grasping wildly at the concepts Yori was enlarging to her. Yori nodded, knowing Kim's confusion. "Then it will be my honor," Yori smiled gently, "to enlighten you. Look—" Yori gestured back to the pond. As Kim watched the pond, Yori threw the stone she held into the pond, and Kim watched as the ripples expanded to encompass the whole surface...


Kim Possible had just finished the grilled-cheese sandwich her mother had made her when she heard the front door swing open. The ten-year-old girl perked her ears as her mother greeted the boy at the door. "Hey there, Mrs. Dr. P!" a familiar voice chimed. Kim turned around and smiled as she saw her best friend stroll through the door.

"Ron!" she clapped her hands gleefully as she stood up from the chair and met him in the living room. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a generous hug, prompting him to protest, "Aw, cut it out, Kim, cooties!"

"Sorry," Kim giggled as she released her long-time best friend. "I'm just surprised to see you here. Weren't you going to Camp Wannaweep for the summer?"

"Yeah, I was," Ron answered, grinning hugely. "But the trip got cancelled at the last minute, when the health inspectors closed the camp for the summer! But hey, I didn't wanna go there anyway! I wanted to spend the summer with my bestest friend in the world!"

"Coolio!" Kim cheered. She grabbed Ron by the hand and led him to the family computer. "C'mon, I wanna show you something. I got an idea for making some money over the summer. I'm going to do babysitting, and I'm even setting up a website so people can go online to ask me to sit for them..." The young redhead cheerfully continued to explain her plans to the slightly befuddled Ron.


"It's over, Drakken!" Kim jumped in front of the blue-skinned criminal, determination visible in the set of her jaw. Kim and Ron had tracked Dr. Drakken to his new lair when the scientist in question had threatened to release his latest weapon of world domination. Drakken and his right hand woman Shego had succeeded in stealing an EMP cannon from a nearby military base, and the would-be world conquerer was now gloating over his triumph.

"On the contrary, Kim Possible!" Drakken gloated. "Behold!" With a theatrical wave of his hand, Drakken grabbed the handle of an enormous lever next to the weapon and pulled it toward him. Metal groaned in protest and huge gears shifted and spun, lifting the steel platform where he had bolted the EMP cannon upward, toward an opening skylight. Drakken laughed victoriously as he and Shego rode the platform.

"Ron!" Kim called out to her partner.

"Way ahead of ya, KP!" Ron answered as they grabbed their grappling guns and fired at the platform. The pitons held firm and the grapplers carried Kim and Ron quickly toward the rising platform as it carried the villains and their toy through the skylight and finally stopping high above Mount Middleton. Within seconds, the teen adventurers scaled the elevated platform and leapt nimbly to its surface. With a flick of a switch, their grappling cables recoiled silently into their guns.

"Soon, Shego," Drakken gloated, oblivious to the intruders on the platform, "we'll send Middleton back to the Dark Ages! Every device more sophisticated than an oscillating fan will be shorted out by the power of the EMP cannon! Their entire infrastructure will collapse into chaos!"

"Uh, Drakken," Ron chimed in, causing Drakken to stare at the blond teenager, "are you done ranting now? Because, y'know, we hate to interrupt a good rant. And yours are the best, really. I mean it, serious comedy gold here."

"Kim Possible!" Drakken shouted in disbelief. Turning to Ron, he added, "And—uh—drawing a blank here—"

"Why do you always act surprised, Drakken?" Kim asked nonchalantly. Grabbing her Kimmunicator, Kim shouted, "Wade! Now!"

"On it," a child's voice chimed from the transceiver of her Kimmunicator, which Kim pointed at the cannon. After three seconds, she pocketed the device and crossed her arms.

"Uh, you forget something, Princess?" Shego asked from her vantage point at the control seat of the cannon.

"Wait for it, Shego," Kim smiled. "Oh, and I'd duck and cover if I were you."

Less than a second after Kim spoke, the control panel's lights started to flare red. Shego swung her head to glare at the control screen. "Regulators are off-line!" she shouted. "Power levels spiking to critical! Drakken, this thing's gonna blow!"

"Wha—" Before Drakken could finish, the control panel of the EMP cannon flamed out in a shower of sparks, sending Shego diving away from her seat just a millisecond shy of being burnt by the trashed device.

"Virus," Kim explained as she and Ron circled around the hapless pale blue scientist. "We knew that the EMP cannon's electronics would be shielded from its own EMP burst, but not from a wireless download signal. So I downloaded a virus with my Kimmunicator."

"Next time," Ron recommended, "don't build your lair in a wi-fi hot spot."

"Aww," Drakken complained, "and the real-estate agent assured me that that was one of the plusses of this neighborhood! Oh well," he turned to his cohort. "Shego! Time to earn your paycheck!"

"You got it, Drakken," Shego snarled as she regarded her nemesis. The jade-skinned mercenary, having returned to her feet after tumbling out of the control chair, lunged toward Kim and Ron, a mirthless grin plastered on her face. "Here's the part I like, Princess!" Shego snarled as she pushed past Ron and fired a green plasma burst toward Kim. Kim dodged the energy missile with ease, somersaulting toward Shego. "Ron!" she called out. "I got Shego, you take care of Drakken."

"You got it, KP!" Ron answered, charging the mad-scientist wannabe. Drakken threw the first punch, telegraphing it sufficiently that Ron was able to dodge it easily.

Kim concentrated on her opponent, her eyes focused on Shego's glowing hands. "Yo, Kimmie!" Shego taunted her opponent. "Looks like the buffoon's been working out! Maybe I should look him up, y'know, after I've taken you down."

"Over my dead body, Shego!" Kim growled as she landed in a catlike stance ten yards away from her adversary.

"If you insist," Shego announced, green energy coalescing in her hands. Kim barely dodged the first ball of green fire that Shego launched at her, but the second one connected, hard enough to knock Kim ten feet backward and off of the platform.

As she began plummeting, Kim reached for her grappler-gun, only to find herself jerking to a stop. Thin cable whipped around her torso three times, securing her firmly. Within seconds she found herself pulled upward, back toward the scaffold. With a neat flip, Kim landed on her feet in a crouched position, glaring hard at her rescuer. Ron stood in front of her, casually toying with the grappler he used to pull Kim to the platform.

"Ron," she groaned, "what are you doing?"

"Saving your life, KP," Ron smiled. "You're welcome, by the way."

"Thanks," Kim grumbled, "but I didn't need the save. You were supposed to deal with Drakken, remember?"

"Hey," Ron's pleasure at having saved Kim faded under the glare of her accusing green eyes. "I saw an opening at I took it."

"Yeah," Kim pointed over Ron's shoulder, a distinct frown forming on her lips. "So did our playmates." Ron turned around and followed Kim's finger.

Drakken flew off strapped to a jet-pack, grabbing Shego by the armpits. "KIM POSSIBLE!" he shouted to his arch-nemesis as he flew out of sight, "You may think you're all that, but YOU'RE NOT!" Inside of ten seconds, the villains were no more than a speck in the distance.

Ron turned back toward Kim, only to be greeted by a disdainful glare. "Look, Ron, I know you were trying to help, but I didn't need the save." Holding up her modified hair-dryer-turned-grappling-gun, she added, "I don't carry this thing around to keep my hair from getting frizzy."

Ron winced slightly as he glanced back to the point in the sky where Drakken and Shego had disappeared. "Sorry I screwed up, KP."

Kim nodded, her features softening from her hard scowl to a more sympathetic frown. "Well, we stopped their plans for now, so that's all good." Placing a hand on Ron's shoulder, Kim added, "We just gotta focus on teamwork more, 'kay?"

"Yeah," Ron grunted, the sole sign that Kim's words had registered


"Pull the ripcord, Ron!" Kim shouted at the free-falling figure below her. "I said, pull it now!" The seconds slowed to a crawl before the white parasail billowed from Ron's pack. Kim breathed a sigh of relief; the last few times she and Ron went hang gliding, Ron had begun pushing the limits of how long he could remain in freefall before deploying the chute, a hobby that had Kim increasingly worried.

Ron had arrived on the snowfield minutes before Kim, and was removing the chute from his jacket as she descended. "Beat you down here, slowpoke," he announced as Kim touched ground and waited for the chute to collapse behind her. Rufus poked his head out of the left pocket of Ron's cargo pants and chirped, "Yeah, beatcha!"

Kim removed her chute's tethers, and marched slowly toward Ron, anger flaring in her green eyes. "What the hell's wrong with you, Stoppable?" she shouted. "I keep telling you, count ten then pull the ripcord! Not fifteen or twenty, ten! This isn't a race to see who gets to the mountain first!"

"I thought we were in a hurry," Ron glared back, "what with that climbing team stranded on the north face of Mount Middleton and all!"

"You wait too long to pull the ripcord," Kim reminded Ron, desperately reining in her temper before it ran away from her, "and the chute won't break your fall enough. You'll hit the ground hard enough to break your legs, or even end up pulped over the side of the mountain! I have enough to worry about with this rescue mission; I don't need you turning every mission into an Extreme Sports Show! You're worse that Adrena Lynn; at least her stunts were faked!"

Ron turned toward his chute and began gathering up the discarded fabric and rolling it up. "Okay, so I've been getting off on freefall during our last few jumps. I know when to pull the chute and I haven't broken anything yet, what's the drama?"

"It isn't just the jumps, Ron," Kim complained, her patience wearing to the nub. "When we were rescuing divers from that tidal wave near Sydney last week, you were trying to boogie-board a hundred-foot-wave—"

"To stop the last diver from being swept out toward a coral reef," Ron interrupted.

"—then you drove an off-road four-wheeler over a lava floe in Hawaii before that—"

"To rush supplies to that village, KP!"

"The Coast Guard had that taken care of, Ron!" Kim found herself shouting again. "Your head isn't in the game anymore, it's like you've become a thrill-junkie or something! Like our missions aren't important to you unless you can get an adrenaline surge out of them! And sooner or later, you're gonna get yourself or both of us killed. And I can't deal with that right now!"

Kim's words hung heavily in the air as the atmosphere became more and more charged with tension. Rufus wisely ducked into his master's pocket, not wanting to witness the inevitable fallout.

Ron faced Kim, his jaw set as stone, his brown eyes hooded and unreadable. "What are you saying, Kim? You don't want me to come along?"

"Not this time, Ron," Kim answered. "I can't concentrate on saving the hikers and keeping you out of trouble. I need to know that your head's in the game. I need to know that you'll have my back. And right now, I don't know that." She swallowed hard, wishing with all her heart that she didn't have to finish her thought. "Ron, I don't want you joining me on any missions for the time being. Maybe when you can prove to me that you'll start focusing, and taking things more seriously, we can talk about it in a few months, but for now, I can't take that risk." The silence that followed her pronouncement was almost tangible, an oppressive force.

Ron turned his back away from Kim, not letting her see his face, as he returned to the task of rolling his chute. Kim tried to approach him, but sensed that her approach would be unwelcome. "Look," she offered, "I'll contact Wade, have him send a ride to pick you up—"

"Don't do me any favors, Kim," Ron growled harshly, refusing to turn his head to face his long-time and now former best friend. "I'll find my own way down the mountain. You go play hero."

The pain in Ron's voice wasn't sharp, it was blunted. A dull dead thud, like the door of a vault or the lid of a coffin being closed. Kim turned away sadly. "If that's what you want, Ron," she nodded. "I'll see you around."

"Only if I don't see you first," Ron intoned, that dead thud in his voice again.

As Kim left Ron to track down the lost hikers, she dared to glance over her shoulder one last time. As Ron finished rolling his chute, Rufus poked his head out of his pocket and stared at Kim forlornly.

Kim swallowed her tears one last time and returned to the task at hand. She would deal with the fragments of her friendship with Ron later, once the hikers were safe.


Ron had finally had it. Not only was he still on the outs with his best friend, but the new corporate owners of Bueno Nacho were destroying his favorite hang-out. First, they took nacos off the menu, then they started introducing some lame kid's meal package, and now they discontinued providing flexi-straws with their drinks. For Ron, this was literally the final straw. With the assistance of Wade's internet skills, Ron had the phone number for Bueno Nacho's corporate headquarters, and he was going to give the company's new president a piece of his mind. He plugged his quarter into the slot of the nearby payphone, dialed the number and waited through the hold music.

"Hola, Bueno Nacho, el Presidente speaking." Ron cringed when he heard the voice at the end of the phone. Doctor Drakken.

A huge calloused hand grabbed the handset from Ron's fingers. "Mr. Drakken is a very busy man!" the new head cook of Bueno Nacho(whom Ron now recognized as one of Drakken's goons) barked in Ron's face. Ron backed away from the thug, keeping his eyes on his opponent at all times, until he heard the rhythmic clockwork sound of a hundred toy Diablos marching toward him. "What the—" he started to mutter to himself as he turned to the sight of the sinister-looking toys marching in eerie unison toward him. "You gotta be kidding!" He rushed to his scooter and pulled a crowbar from behind the seat. Brandishing the iron rod like a baseball bat, he waded into the tide of miniature robots. The first rows of toy monsters attacked Ron with pincers and sharp blades emerging from their arms, but Ron quickly mowed them down with his makeshift weapon. Rufus joined his master, delivering crippling karate blows with his paws.

Within minutes, all the Diablos were converted to twisted pieces of scrap, save one. Ron had grabbed the last of the demon toys, holding it firmly as it thrashed in his grip. Ron glanced around briefly, noticing that Drakken's thug had vacated. "Booyah!" he shouted in triumph. "So, Rufus, whaddya you think we should do with Tiny here?"

Rufus jumped up and down excitedly, squeaking, "Kim, Kim!"

Ron considered Rufus's suggestion for a moment, before delivering a curt wave of his hand. "Right, so she can take credit for saving the day again? I don't think so, Rufus. She wants me to prove I got my head in the game, then I'll prove it! I'll figure out what's going on with Li'l Hot Stuff here without Kim's help." Rufus lowered his tiny head sadly; as deeply as he loved his master, Rufus had to acknowledge that he could be hard-headed and obstinate.

Just like Kim. Maybe the reason that they were not getting along was because they were too much alike.

Ron placed the robot on an outdoor table and glared hard at the ugly little toy. "What's your big secret, little guy, huh?" he pondered aloud as he contemplated the device. For a toy, it proved quite sophisticated, and exceedingly dangerous, at least in large numbers. But one single Diablo couldn't do any damage, could it?

A high-pitched pinging tone vibrated suddenly in the air, causing Rufus to place his paws over his ears. Ron glanced about, hoping to pinpoint the source of the sound, but was then interrupted by a different noise, the sound of twisting metal and electricity. Ron turned his attention back to the robot, only to stand in jaw-dropping surprise as the monster began to enlarge before his eyes. Within seconds it had shot up three feet and was still growing. The smiley-faced head morphed into a metallic snarl, its mouth gaping and frowning. Its now massive arms reached for the sky as it towered ten, twenty, thirty feet over Ron's head. The robot's head rotated toward Ron, eyes flaring like searchlights. A cannon-like device sprouted from the robot's right arm and aimed itself at Ron. Rufus scampered back into the relative safety of his master's cargo pocket.

"Hoo-boy!" he breathed as he backed away from the monster and toward his scooter.


For the first time since the Mount Middleton incident, Kim was genuinely happy as she leaned into the body of her dance partner. Warm, sensitive, serious, witty, an incredible dancer, to say nothing of how well he could fill out a white tuxedo. What more could a girl want in her prom date?

She had all but given up hope of finding a date for the dance when Eric first entered her life in the cafeteria. Josh was taking Tara, Brick had hooked up with Bonnie, and most of the eligible male students had already paired off by the time she had returned from rescuing Japanese toy-manufacturer Nakasumi from the clutches of Shego (a sitch that still baffled her). And Ron wasn't an option this year; while he had managed to remain civil when they encountered each other on school grounds, he had pointedly avoided meeting her away from the school. Monique and Felix had tried to smooth over the troubled waters between the two former friends, but their efforts had failed to breach the chasm that had come between Kim and Ron. Then, of course, Drakken tried kidnapping her father, which just made the sitch even worse. If it wasn't for Eric, Kim would probably have skipped the dance completely.

Slowly, tenuously, their lips touched, the faintest of kisses, and yet Kim's heart was pounding as though she had just finished rappelling down Mount Middleton. As her body pressed into Eric's, Kim allowed the tensions of the last few weeks to fade completely away. There was no hesitancy, no doubt, just adoration. Eric's arms around her waist sheltered her. He made her feel safe, comforted, desired. No one had made her feel those things before. For the first time in her life Kim Possible was truly falling in love.

"Hey, Kim," Eric whispered in her ear as the slow-dance number they were swaying to ended. "Let's go outside for a moment. I want to show you something."

"I'd like that," Kim answered, smiling, her green eyes glowing with happiness. Eric took her hand and she followed him out of the school gym willingly.

As he escorted Kim out of the gym and into the night air, Eric gently placed his hands over her eyes. When Kim protested, giggling, Eric just answered, "Not now, Kim, it's a surprise."

Eric led Kim a few steps forward, waited a few seconds, then lifted his hands from her eyes. "Okay, Eric," Kim laughed, "what's your big surprise?"

"Look up," Eric nodded, his thousand-watt smile still in full force. Kim lifted her head and glanced at the night sky above her. The gibbous moon cast its pale reflected light, but a shape on the horizon caught Kim's attention.

Kim initially had mistaken the dark shape for a storm cloud, until it began to loom closer. The thing was dark red, human-like in shape, thirty feet long with a metallic sheen to its hull. It passed overhead, searchlight eyes scanning the area beneath its bulk, before landing beside Eric, a device protruding from its right arm resembling a laser cannon aimed at Kim's head. As it landed, more of the dark red robots appeared overhead, flying in formation, covering the night sky like a dreadful curtain.

"Wha-" Kim began, "what's that?"

"It's called a Diablo, Kimberly Anne Possible," the chiding and all-too familiar voice announced. "My latest and greatest creation!" Drakken and Shego emerged from the trees behind Eric, grins of pure malice plastered on their faces. Kim immediately galvanized into action, grabbing Eric's wrist. "Eric!" she screamed, "get out of here!" Eric stood firmly and grasped Kim's wrist, yanking her back into his arms.

"Actually, Kim," Eric announced calmly, "around here, I'm known as Synthodrone nine-oh-one." He clamped his hand down on Kim's shoulder, and before she could move, a blast of electricity rushed from his fingers and through her frame, shutting down her motor functions and causing her body to slump to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

The last thing she saw before consciousness deserted her was Eric's face, a scornful smile turning his lips, as Shego wrapped her arms around his neck.


When she regained consciousness, Kim found herself tied to something large and round. As she glanced around her, she noticed what looked like giant prop replicas of tomatoes, celery stalks, chili peppers and taco shells. A faded "Home of the Naco" sign overhead revealed her location; the main storage warehouse of Bueno Nacho, the place that used to be her favorite fast food joint. Hers and Ron's favorite place, before their rift. On the far wall, she noticed a huge high-definition video screen.

Minutes later, a door opened and Drakken stepped into the warehouse, Shego and Eric following behind. Instead of his regular blue scientist's coat, Drakken was sporting a well-tailored business suit. Eric was also dressed differently; instead of his tuxedo, he wore the red-and-black jumpsuit of one of Drakken's synthodrone henchmen. Kim shook her head in shame; the boy she thought she had loved had been working for her enemy since he first met her.

"Ah, Kim Possible!" Drakken smiled cruelly as he regarded his captive opponent. "So glad you could join me in my moment of triumph! After all, it just wouldn't be the same without you, would it?" He cackled madly as he withdrew a remote control from his jacket pocket and pointed it at the video screen. The blank screen crackled to life, revealing the horrific images of a squadron of Drakken's Diablo robots flying over Paris, London, Moscow, Tokyo and Washington DC.

"You might want to pay attention, Princess," Shego announced, her body leaning against Eric's. "Drakken may actually have come up with something this time."

"You're so right, Shego," Drakken gloated. "All those Diablo toys distributed into Bueno Nacho's 'Bueno Meals', awaiting the signal from my transmitter towers, to become my conquering army! And this time, Kim, my plan left nothing to chance! A perfect marriage of technology; Nakasumi's toy design and dear Daddy Possible's cybertronic breakthrough. And, to really stick a pin in it, one made-to-order syntho-hottie!" He slapped Eric a high-five, only to draw his hand back suddenly in pain, as though he had slapped a brick wall.

"So you weren't just making it up as you went along?" Shego asked semi-skeptically. Even she had to admit, the boss was on a roll tonight!

"And you questioned my research," Drakken snorted derisively.

"The slumber party?"

"Tut-tut, Shego," Drakken defended himself. "But at least I finally found your weakness, Kim! Boys! Boys, boys, boys, who will I go to the dance with, who's the perfect boy?"

Kim glared at the gloating villain, cold fury forming in the pit of her heart. Shego glanced at the young woman, her eyes widening. "Say, I just thought of something, Dr. D," Shego commented. "Isn't there someone missing at this party? Tallish, straw-colored hair, hangs with a meerkat or something like that?"

"It's a mole-rat," Eric corrected her, smiling.

"Oh yes, the buffoon," Drakken smiled. "Let me guess, Kim; you still expect whatever-his-name-is to rescue you? Oh, I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you on this one." He pointed his remote back at the vid-screen and chuckled darkly.

The image on the screen changed to a view of a street. The camera seemed to be looking down at the street from a great height, and moving rapidly along the street as it passed. Kim realized that the video was taken by a camera mounted on one of Drakken's Diablos. The camera soon fixed itself on a scooter that was clearly running away from the deadly robot. The driver of the scooter glanced back at his pursuer, and even beneath his helmet, Kim recognized the chocolate brown eyes staring at the steel monster. "Ron," she whispered.

"Hey, Tin Pants!" Ron taunted the monster, and Rufus poked his head out of his usual hiding place and shoot his tiny fist at the Diablo. "Bet you can't catch me!" Ron steered his scooter wildly, weaving through traffic as the monster flew in pursuit. At the first available ramp, he led the monster away from traffic, and the Diablo pursued him. The flame-thrower-arm extended before it, firing blasts at Ron's scooter. Maneuvering the scooter frantically, Ron managed to avoid the first two shots, but the third connected with the back of the scooter, blowing out the tire. Ron fell forward, tumbling into an ungainly heap.

Ron struggled to get to his feet, but his ankle had twisted painfully, making walking nearly impossible. Unable to escape, he turned stoically to face the technological terror that hovered over him. Rufus scurried out of the pocket and stood on his master's shoulder, defiantly making his last stand at Ron's side. "You want some, Rusty?" he groaned through his pain, determination in the set of his jaw. "Come get some!"

"No—" Kim gasped as she witnessed Ron's final moments.

The monster fired a gout of superheated plasma from its arm, searing the land beneath it a sooty black. Ron and Rufus didn't even flinch as the flames engulfed them.

"NOOOOOOO!" Kim screamed, tears stinging her eyes as she watched the charred remains of the bravest, most reckless young man she had ever known. Unable to free herself from Drakken's bonds, she lowered her head in misery. Ron was dead. Drakken was victorious.

Shego grinned sadistically as she witnessed Kim's unspoken surrender. "Hey," she announced brightly. "Let's see that again in instant replay!" With malicious glee, she hit a button on the remote, rewinding the footage back to Ron's final words. "You want some, Rusty? Come get some!"

"Turn it off—" Kim murmured hoarsely.

"What was that, Princess?" Shego chuckled as she replayed Ron's destruction over and over again.

"TURN IT OFF!" Kim screamed, the tears flowing freely from her eyes.

Shego switched the remote again, blacking out the vid-screen. "Aw, you're no fun anymore," she complained as she rejoined Drakken and Synthodrone 901.

"Just kill me and get it over with, bitch," Kim muttered, her voice dead in her throat, the fire that had flared in her eyes extinguished.

"That's just it, Kim," Drakken chuckled mirthlessly as he approached Kim. He stuck his face mere inches away from the fallen heroine, marking the tears that shone on her cheeks without a trace of pity. "I did more than kill you, Kim. I hurt you. And I wish to go on hurting you."

"Uh, Boss," Shego interrupted, "you do realize that you're quoting Star Trek II, don't you?" Drakken shot Shego a withering glare for daring to interrupt his moment of triumph. "Hey, just pointing it out," Shego grinned sheepishly.

"Boss!" one of Drakken's flunkies rushed into the warehouse. "Just got word on the police band! Global Justice is on their way! I think they're starting to notice the army of Diablos!"

"Oh well," Drakken laughed darkly, "it was a fun lair while it lasted! Come friends, let us away!" Shego and Synthodrone 901 vacated the warehouse without so much as a backward glance at Kim. Drakken remained for a moment, for one last twist of the knife. "Farewell, Kim Possible," he whispered venomously. "You thought you were all that, but now we both know that you're not." With those last words Drakken departed for the waiting VTOL craft that would fly him and his henchmen to freedom.

Kim didn't even try to break free of her bonds. She was completely spent, defeated in mind and body. Lacking the strength for anything else, she wept bitterly. She wept over her failure to recognize Eric as a threat. She wept over her realization that she had been expertly played. Above all else, she wept over the death of Ron Stoppable.

After what seemed like hours alone with only her self-pity, Kim heard gunshots and sirens in the distance. The warehouse doors flew open as a squad of black-clad GJ officers, led by Betty Director and Will Du, double-marched into the warehouse. "Agent Du," Betty commanded, pointing at Kim, "cut her down!" Will rushed to the bound redhead, grabbing the throwing knife from the sheath in his boot. With a quick swipe of the knife, he severed her bonds, and caught her as she collapsed to the floor.

Director approached Kim in hurried strides, her brow knitted in concern. "What happened, Possible? Where's Drakken?"

Kim slowly lifted her head to face Director, only to shy away from the gimlet glare of her good eye. "Drakken—Drakken won," she stammered helplessly. "I—I should have stuck to babysitting…" Again the tears flowed freely and Kim didn't even bother to wipe her eyes.

Director regarded the broken young woman before her for only a second. "Agent Du, get her out of here," she dismissed them both. "She's no good to us in this condition." Agent Du lifted Kim in his arms and gently carried the crying girl away from the battlefield.