Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Kim Possible nor do I wish to infringe upon any of Disney's copy-rited property. The plot, and original characters, however, are all mine.
Sorry for the wait to anyone who read the prologue. University has a way of sucking up every second of spare time I might have. Speaking of time, we move up to the era of the regular series here. Enjoy, and please review.
Chapter 1: Possible-ly Outdone
The sun shone brightly across the broad horizon of the Rocky Mountain Range, wrapping the breathtaking scenery in a comfortably warm embrace. The pristine peaks and valleys of the Sunshine Ski Resort, Banff, Alberta, Canada, were bustling with the usual pre-Christmas traffic of skiers, snowboarders, and snow bladers trying to fully enjoy the temperate swing in the weather that defied the usually frigid climate of the prairies in late November. That is, all excepting the North face. It was an intimidating bowl, where the line between slope and precipice blurred, home to the majority of the hill's single and double black diamonds, and the hill-top chalet, which rested high atop the summit. It was strangely un-groomed, the powder snow allowed to pile up, and blow into drifts at Mother Nature's whim. It also lacked the usual entourage of adrenaline junkies, speed freaks, drunken college frat boys with something to prove, and terrified beginners who somehow managed to board the wrong lift. That is, except two. One was of the death defying, push-it-to-the-limit-and-then-some variety, while the other was just trying to get down alive. Kim Possible, world renowned teenaged hero, astride a goofie-footed, hot pink freestyle snowboard cut through the deep powder expertly, carving smoothly around a grouping of trees into a gully. Her trailer was one Ron Stoppable, who fit somewhere into the category of street-renowned or less, despite his critical involvement in 99 percent of his partner's world saving activities, and a few of his own. He, wearing a pair of green Head high-performance skis, clipped the lead tree in a poorly executed snow-plow break manoeuvre, and was sent sprawling over the gully lip. The blonde yard-saled upon impact with a hidden mound of naturally packed snow and lay there, trying to catch the breath which had just been driven from his lungs. Luckily, instead of cutting straight down the valley, Kim had moved laterally across it, utilizing the natural half-pipe to switch, and had seen Ron's less than graceful landing. She smiled at his hopeless clumsiness, and glided to her boyfriend's side. She was unable to resist the urge to bury him with snow, however, and laughed as the introduction of frozen water onto Ron's exposed legs (his pants had, seemly without reason, but with his unusual history, not surprisingly, fallen down) roused him immediately.
"KP! That's soooo cold! Why Kim, Why?" He cried, batting the ice crystals from his skin. Rufus, naked mole rat and member 2.5 of Team Possible-Stoppable, crawled from the pants pilled around Ron's ankles, shivering intensely, his expression mirroring his owners.
"I thought you might have gotten tired of being so hot." Kim replied playfully. Ron's complaining ceased immediately, his cheeks turning a slightly deeper shade of red over his wind scorched skin. Kim giggled lightly as he pulled his pants back up, grimacing as the snow which had made its way into its folds came into contact with his freezing legs.
At least he doesn't straight up pass out when I hit on him anymore. She mused. It had been six months to the day since Jr. Prom and the pair's mutual realisation of their feelings for one another. While she loved Ron to death, and he had no trouble with the tender, romantic side of the relationship, the part that young girls through to women bemoaned was beyond the impulse driven mind of their masculine companions, he was simply too innocent minded to be the driving force behind anything less chivalrous. Kim had had to slowly introduce Ron to the idea of the more cardinal aspects of dating, and dismantling the carved-ivory pedestal he had placed her on. To be blunt, he needed to see her as less of an object of worship, and, at least on occasion, treat her simply as an object, or at least that was how Monique had phrased it. It was by definition, truly a labour of love, and Kim had no qualms about guiding him along, even if at times it was frustrating and embarrassing.
Like the time in August at the beach, where a bikini clad Kim had suggested that Ron apply tanning lotion to her back. He had obliged, after a brief trance, until Kim had unclasped her top to afford him better access to the portion of her back it had covered. He had promptly collapsed backwards into the sand, a stupid grin plastered to his face but no sign of life in his eyes. After slapping his cheek gently, then progressively harder, had failed, Kim had rushed him home where, with much alk-weirdness she had had to explain the entire incident to her mother. Anne Possible was barely able to control her laugher as she pieced together what had transpired, which furthered Kim's discomfort. And to add injury to insult, her father had returned home just as she arrived at the part of the story involving her removing her top. Ron had awoken at this point too, as if the danger that currently threatened his unconscious form had somehow reached through the haze to activate his fight or flight mechanism. Upon seeing the look of fast building fatherly rage rising on James Possible's face, he wisely had chosen flight.
Ron did not join the Possibles for supper or any non-daylight activates where a large crowd of witnesses was not present for several weeks afterwards, until Kim had ordered Wade to perform a full scan the house for any of the equipment necessary for sending a 17 year old boy into a black hole, and she had convinced the blonde that her family did not own any guns. But now he was progressing at a much more satisfying tack, and Kim had recently found herself in the "intimates" section of Club Banana, daydreaming naughtily.
Coming back to the present, she helped Ron in the retrieval of his lost articles of clothing, and they resumed their patrol. Kim and Ron had been called upon, on direct presidential order no less, to augment the neutral defence of the international summit taking place in the hilltop chalet as they skied the bowl below it. It was the culmination of the START III talks, a face to face meeting of all nuclear arms possessing nations in an attempt to once again begin weapons reductions, update restrictions and re-establish commitments against both horizontal and vertical proliferation of weapons of mass destruction. Perhaps the most novel and unique part of these talks was the inclusion of a clause that saw each nation bring a number mobile launch command mechanisms from their own arsenals to the ratification ceremony. The minimum number required depended upon the total stockpile each nation had. Obviously, the United States and Russia had had to bring the largest collection, about 15 each, while countries like France, Britain, Israel, India, etc. had to produce only 5 or 6. The weapons each device were coded to were to all be deactivated with the rest of the "nuclear family" present to witness the act. The hope was that this first tentative step would establish the foundation of trust in equitable compliance that similar prior negotiations lacked, which had ultimately lead to the retardation or outright failure of the START I&II and SALT I&II treaties. The endgame of the talks was just getting started, the delegates probably milling about, engaging in the incessantly pleasant lie-through-your-teeth politesse of international politics that neither Kim nor Ron could stand, while each envoy's tech team were going through the tedious process of verifying the authenticity of every one of the "footballs", an operation that proudly flew the flag of needless bureaucratic repetition. Once it was established that the impressive stacks of brushed aluminum suitcases contained uplinks were in fact connected to live nuclear weapons, the negotiations could wrap up upon their disarmament, and further political horn-blowing and patting of one's own administration's back could commence, likely continuing long into the night.
It was this fact that had driven the duo to volunteer for foot patrol with much abandon, more than willing to enjoy the pleasant weather and ski conditions that had brought the rest of Middleton High School's senior class on the ski trip, although they had been restricted to the open zones of the hill. Being "allowed" on the extreme portion of the resort, made positively insane with the au natural condition that had been encouraged of the snow really made Ron question how relaxing this vacation was turning out to be, but Kim was in her element, and seeing her enjoy herself was more than enough to blot out anything less than the most imposing consideration of his health.
It's a mission. Ron repeated to himself. Can't cop out on KP on a mission. Even though I could be enjoying a steaming cup of hot chocolate right now instead of freezing my face off.
Kim lead Ron down a trail bisecting the steep slope above, heading towards the upper terrain park, the only part of the North Face that bucked the trend of chaos and was groomed. The condition of the hill was an aspect of the defence of the summit, intended to make a ground assault by protesters or more insidious groups on the chalet and the precious objects within as difficult as possible. As all of the world's major powers were involved, and the negotiations were taking place well within the safe air space of 'fortress North America', an airborne offensive was deemed unlikely, so only minimal on-site provisions were made for such an event, present in a Griffin helicopter gunship. All nearby airfields were shut down for the day, and private flights from the major airport located in Calgary, restricted. The 'catastrophic response' air support was located at a removed Canadian airbase, a 15 minute hop time at MACH 2. The location of the meetings was chosen for its balance of isolation and suitable amenities, while Canada's nuclear neutrality made it an excellent choice as mediator. In fact, Kim was not entirely sure Team Possible's presence was necessary. Nuclear weapons were far too passé for the villains she usually dealt with, but one does not refuse an order from the federal executive branch lightly.
As they approached the park, however, the auburn haired beauty noted something amiss in well defined skidoo tracks. Not produced by the CATS that the security units were utilizing, which had two parallel tracks, but a single pack straddled by the dual channels left by the skis. Alerted to a possible threat, Kim put aside her private thoughts and prepared for the worst. As she peaked the ridge that overlooked the terrain park, she cut into the trees and lay there, observing a group of five sunning themselves at the top of the half pipe, and the skidoo's that were responsible for the tracks she had seen sitting at the bottom. Her experienced eye could detect no objects which might be weapons, and her suspicions lessened somewhat, but she still felt it prudent to report this unexpected activity in. After all, there were plenty of places to have stashed such weapons if the operation was planned with enough foresight. A somewhat less likely but no less potent threat was that to these operatives, firearms were unnecessary. And to Kim, these 'less likely' situations always seemed to crop up.
She had only just begun to speak into her walkie-talkie, issued to her by the security force for direct contact, when the group downhill of her turned and looked towards her general vicinity. It took only a moment to realise why as, with a duet scream from human and naked mole rat vocal chords, Ron arched skyward off a natural kicker, Rufus clinging quite literally for his life on the end of the blonde's long toque. He pirouetted, executing a perfect backscratcher, before beginning to flail madly. Noticing that the ground was rushing up towards him, Ron pulled the rip cord on his parachute, which Kim had insisted, and Ron now thanked God she had, they wear in case of cliff-breaches. This arrested his fall, allowing him a soft landing, directly at the feet of the group Kim had been observing from her vantage point. She had, in her tunnel vision-ed analysis, completely lost track of the blonde haired dufus. Sighing at the loss of cover that he was so often responsible for, the red headed hero slid down hill to join him. As she approached, she took stock of the group in the greater detail her decreased distance permitted. All five were male, above 5'8", builds ranging from lean to broad-shouldered and barrel chested. They looked to be as a group at least 5 years her and Ron's senior, fully developed patches of whiskers present on all their faces, from untrimmed morning stubble to well groomed chin-straps. Three were white skinned, although well tanned, one was of Asian descent, and rounding out the group was an African American, who loomed overhead of Kim by at least half a foot. Four were styled in the outlandish fashion that was expected of snow boarders, each wearing chromed goggles or sunglasses, and flashy, attention grabbing colors, some borderline offensively so. One of the Caucasian boys had an exposed Mohawk, the oriental a multi-tipped toque, and the other two wore heavily stickered crash helmets. Standing out somewhat from the motley crew was the final individual, who was clad in a winter-camo jacket, and a matching Vietnam vintage infantry helmet. A massive pair of mirrored Aviator sunglasses hid his eyes, as well as the remaining upper half of his face, and a tooth pick sat lazily in a loose grin. They had helped Ron to his feet as Kim arrived, one of them already releasing his chute so he was not picked up by a gust of wind. They laughed good-naturedly with him while brushing the newly accumulated snow off and collecting his dropped poles.
"That could have been one hell of a biff, Stoppable," one of them said. Kim could see from across the group that the correct pronunciation of his name had left Ron stunned. He was, up until his recently garnered fame from being the starting running back on the football team, almost been unknown within the walls of his own school as a senior, and despite his considerable contributions to Team Possible, it was Kim who received all the international air time and media accolades. Not that he minded, but she was certain he would be lying to himself if the recognition was not gratifying, and surprising. "And Kim Possible! Who woulda thunk it that we would be able to shred some powder with Team Possible-Stoppable, eh?"
Unlike Ron, Kim was not impressed by the group. Their friendly demeanour and flattery notwithstanding, they were well within the boundaries of a secure site. They may not have seemed violent, but her directive was to defend the meetings against well meaning protesters as well, and Kim doubted this was the case. Something about them, particularly the standout dressed in camouflage, rang warning bells in her head, and she proceeded to address them in the business-like manor she reserved for persons' whom intentions she did not trust.
"Gentlemen, this is a restricted sight. I'm not sure who you are, or how you managed to make it up this far without being stopped, but you aren't supposed to be here. I'm going to have to ask you to return to the open areas of the hill." She recited, keeping her voice curt, leaving no room for interpretation of her statement. She could see that the group was taken aback by her lack of appreciation for their affability.
Either they aren't a threat, or they're underestimating me. Not a bad draw, Possible.She thought to herself. The tall dark skinned man spoke up, his voice somewhat more serious than it had been before.
"We have permission to be here despite the summit, Miss Possible. This is the middle of training season, and as important as these talks are, we can't afford to fall behind by even a week."
"I'd like to see those documents, then." Kim replied, not convinced.
Even if I buy that these guys are part of some team, this isn't the only hill they can practice at. If they aren't for real, they'll bolt.
"They're in the sleds at the bottom of the pipe." The camo-wearing boarder said, speaking for the first time. His voice was strong, commanding attention but not simply through volume. It was an underlying current that only well established self-certainty could bring. If they were a strike team, this was the leader, Kim decided. His voice taking on a slightly condescending edge, he continued. "Let's see if you are as good as CNN says you are. Give her a run guys, but go easy."
Go easy? Who does this guy think he's dealing with? Whatever the likelihood of danger these individuals presented, Kim's ego could not refuse such a blatant challenge. If they were indeed agents, they would be making a grave strategic error in surrendering the high ground to her, even if it was just an attempt for them to get to their skidoos to escape. This meant she could afford to play along, because they obviously were not that great a threat if they did not recognise their rather large mistake in basic tactics, even less so if they disrespected her skill to such a degree. And if they were indeed simply a boarder team, this would provide them an excellent lesson in humility. She snapped down her goggles, signalling her agreement.
The group took position on the lip of the half pipe. It was an Olympic standard size, overall a fairly uncreative affair excepting the very end, where it looked as if the strangers had altered it slightly. The aberration took the form of a small overhang extended out over the pipe, very much like an inverted kicker. Kim considered it, uncertain of whether or not she should try using it. She decided to play it by ear. While she was fairly sure she could utilize it, unless her opponents opted to she wouldn't risk an untried variable which could embarrass her as much as it could set her apart. Besides which, she was confident enough in her standard set of tricks to overcome these hot shots without reaching into the exotic.
The Caucasian male in the helmet went first, dropping seamlessly into the feature and when he completed a method 720 on the other side, Kim realised this was going to be more of a challenge than she had anticipated. He linked together several more expert tricks, and upon reaching the bottom, the auburn haired hero was certain he would have received 8.5 to 9 had professional judges been present.
Okay. He must be their ringer. Kim thought to herself, in an uncharacteristic moment of self-doubt. However, in the same thought she recalled her assessment of the camouflaged "leader," and she feared this was only the beginning. Her prediction was proven correct, as one after the other, the strangers completed world class routines, leaving Ron, the camo-clad man, and a somewhat stunned, but impressed and determined cheerleader at the top. She might have been the one who had been underestimating her opponents, who had defiantly proven that their confidence was light-years from baseless, but she would be damned if she was going to just roll over and admit defeat. She mounted the ledge, taking a moment to pre-plan her routine, and entered the half-pipe.
(-) (-) (-)
As Kim took to the air on the other side, starting with a stale-fish 540, Ron slid to the side of the boy wearing aviators, who was still top-side working on his board.
"Who did you say you guys were?" He asked. He knew Kim well enough to tell from her body language that she now was not nearly as confident as she had been at the beginning of this impromptu competition. Not being an expert in anything Nordic, he was not sure of the difficulty of the tricks being preformed, but could sense from Kim's reaction that they were fairly impressive. And, having struck on the same intuitive sense of this man's commanding personality, Ron was willing to bet he would have an explanation for his groups uncanny skill.
"I hadn't." He replied, all the condescension dropped from his voice, a momentary ploy, it would seem, to goad the young super agent into a friendly contest. "We're with Canada's Olympic team." He offered Ron his hand. "I'm Ean."
That would explain a-lot. Ron thought, taking Ean's hand. He saw his reflection in the mirrored lenses, and quickly hid the dumbfounded look that adorned his face. He returned his gaze to his girlfriend, and for the first time he could remember felt as if she might actually be challenged by anyone other than Shego. Kim was more than halfway down the pipe now, just completing a double front-flip. She landed smoothly, and picked up speed for her final trick, which turned out to be a 1080.
(-) (-) (-)
As she came into the landing zone, Kim felt the weight of concern lift from her shoulders. She had pulled it off, out-doing the formidable performances of the boys that had gone before her, confirmed as they gathered around to congratulating her. They may have been a teensy bit arrogant, but they were willing to freely admit that even by their standards she had just completed a spectacular run. She was so pleased with the result she allowed herself to accept the praise, and put aside her suspicions. This was a moment where she had faced and overcome a challenge in the normal, teenaged world that had pushed her limits, had made her sweat. An opportunity that in her all too irregular life was in far too short supply. Even though this did not come close to ranking amongst her greatest achievements, it was special for that reason none the less.
Although she did not express it in the slightest, she was disappointed when the group turned their gazes uphill once again, until she realised that there was still one competitor who had yet to throw down. Blushing slightly at her lapse, which was due largely to the focus it had required to execute her program, she joined them. The white and black helmeted boy finished strapping up, spat his tooth-pick out, and slid off the ledge. As he crossed the trough, he seemed to pick up more speed than the distance he covered should have permitted, and what Kim had believed to be a hard-won victory began to come apart at the seams with his first trick. He mounted the opposing side of the pipe, shooting himself several almost a full 3 feet higher than Kim, or any of his compatriots for that matter, had been able to, and inverted for a rodeo 900. He followed that up with a double grab 720, a double back-flip, and a dinner roll, which he landed on the tail of the board. He rode the stall for a short while before performing a flat-land 360, and climbing the pipe-wall but burning the jump in preparation for his final trick, building speed as he approached the specialized feature. He hit the inverted kicker, and rain-bowed upside down, completing 3 and a-half-rotations before landing on the opposite side of the pipe, having completed a full loop. He hit the brakes, blanketing all those waiting at the bottom in a cloud of ice crystals. It was a lucky turn of events for the teenaged heroine, as it masked the flabbergasted look plastered on her face until she could recompose herself. She doubted even Shego or Monkey Fist could have pulled off that bit of acrobatics, and as the snow settled, she gave the boy with the Mohawk who stood beside her a questioning glance. He only smiled knowingly towards her. It had never been in question who would have prevailed, although Kim had earned their respect in her impressive, and ultimately fruitless resistance. As he unbuckled, the other white male exclaimed to the camouflaged wonder.
"You rode that goofy?! But your regular!! Jesus Ean, that's amazing, even for you." Freed of his bindings, Ean stood and approached Kim, whose mouth was once again agape at the admission of his self-imposed handicap. If he noticed her look, he didn't care. He removed his sunglasses, revealing a pair of ice blue eyes and took her limp hand, shaking it.
"That was a sick run, darlin', you put these guys to shame. If I may say so, you are defiantly all that." He said, earning him a rare post-varsity-Mankey-crush blush from Kimberly. She may have had her reservations before, but his congratulations to her even in his victory convinced her that he did not merit her distrust.
"Who are you?" She asked, a measure of her disbelief finding its way into her question.
"My name's Ean Vincible. It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Possible." He replied. Kim found herself again blushing slightly, and was about to apologise for her unfriendly conduct earlier when a violent explosion echoed through the pass. The group turned uphill quickly, in time to see a massive fireball rising from where the upper section of the Northern Face chairlift had moments ago been standing, and watched it collapse in a blast of snow and ice. Things had just gotten interesting.
Thats if for now. I'll do my best to get the next parts up faster than this one did, I have some down time coming up that should help to that end.