"Do you mind if I sit with you?"
The young man glanced up at the smiling blond who had disturbed his ruminations. He set his glass of water on the latticed café table. It had been some time since his last cup of coffee, but he had learned to stick with fresh water whenever available. Just as he had learned how easily people could be fooled with a change of clothes, a shave, and a thorough wash. The woman in front of him was a perfect example.
"I'm just a little tired," the woman continued as she took the opposite chair, evidently taking his pause as a yes. "Jet lag, you know." She clutched her latte in both hands and leaned over slightly to reveal a greater portion of her cleavage. Once the young man would have assumed she was unaware of this, but he had learned better. An old stab wound echoed with a phantom throb, reminding him never to underestimate a woman's ability to manipulate.
"I just came in from Africa, of all places," she swept on with a bright smile. The young man's slight, thoughtful frown was marred as the corner of one lip twitched. When he had sat down next to this very woman on the plane ride over she had huffed and sniffed and made a big display of being offended by his distressed clothes and ripe smell, courtesy of Watanoaka and the savannah. All it took was twenty minutes in the airplane bathroom for an almost unrecognizable man to emerge from the plane. Water, paper towels, a clean T-shirt, and a jacket really did work wonders.
The young man stood and finished his water with two long, smooth swallows before carefully setting the glass back on the table. The woman was a touch taller than him in her heels, but something in his posture made her nervous. He smiled, but it wasn't a warm expression. Sharp teeth barely peeked between lips ravaged with burns. The expression in his eyes wasn't teasing or predatory or excited like she had expected. It was dismissive.
"Thank you, but I prefer the company of less shallow women," he nearly purred before striding away toward the Museum of Natural History.
CallMeBeepMeIfYouWantToReachMeCallMeBeepMeIfYouWantToReachMe
Kim put her chin in her hand and sighed, shifting to get more comfortable on the crate she had chosen for a chair. It was after midnight in Belgium, and she was officially bored. With all her homework done and Ron sleeping for the past hour, she was kept awake more by stuborness than anything else. She chanced a glance at the saber tooths in their cage. All she could see were flashes of light from their eyes. She sighed. Morally she wasn't one hundred percent on board with this one, but she had taken worse assignments. At least the mission was proving uneventful. Later she would kick herself for daring to think that as the roof exploded, showering concrete onto the floor below. The sabertooths sat up with a pair of growls, hackles rising.
"Unh – ah – I'm awake," Ron sputtered, sitting up straight and managing successfully open one eye and half open the other. Rufufs scrambled out of his lap to stand on his knee, rubbing his tiny eyes, then gasping when he saw the tell-tale red uniform of Drakon's men sliding down ropes from the whole in the ceiling. A hovercraft descended into the room. Kim glared at the man and woman who leered at her from the craft, leaping to her feet.
"Drakon," Kim addressed the college dropout, fists raised in a ready stance.
"That's Doctor Drakon to you, Kim Possible." The blue-skinned scientist placed his usual emphasis on the i's in her name and jabed a finger at her.
"Did babbysitting pay so little that you had o take up catsitting?" Shego asked, smirking down at the red-head.
"Better than being Drakon's errand girl," Kim shot back. Shego glowered and leapt to the floor, ignoring the ropes. Her lean frame and sharp green and black patterned suit made her stand out like a poisonous blossom among the out of shape henchmen.
"With the DNA of those saber-tooth cats, I can produce chemical weapons so potent, the world will be forced to bow before the might of Dr. Draken!" Draken shouted, pointing his finger in the air. Instantly the far side of the room exploded. Draken instinctively ducked down. Shego's head whipped around to face the new threat. The sound of many running feet filled the air…and lasted for nearly two minutes before a group of bulky men in grey uniforms led by a stout, yellow-skinned man half their size pattered into view, panting from the long run.
"Dr. Dementor?" Ron asked aloud, recognizing the bucket-shaped helmet.
"Yes…it is I…oh, oh, whooo…Dr. Dementor!" The diminuitive German wheezed, voice rising in volume and accent as he spoke. "And with the DNA of those saber-tooth cats, I will produce chemical weapons of suck magnitude, ze world vill 'ave no choice but to submit to my rule." The sabertooths snarled, back legs rattling the cage.
"Hey, wait a minute," Draken said. "That's similar to my plan. No fair, I called dibs on the cat-chemical-weapons plan!"
"Yeah, sorry dude, have to go with the blue-man on this one," Ron agreed. "He was here first."
"Ron," Kim chided.
"I will not be denied!" Dementor cried, raising a lemon-colored fist.
"Ok, whoa there boys, time out." Shego made a T with her hands. "I know that everyone here is notoriously bad at sharing."
"Hate it." Draken agreed.
"It is part of the job." Dementor conceded.
"But in case you've forgotten, Kim Possible is right there." Shego pointed a sharply-pointed finger at the teen in question. "So how about we hold off on the hissy fight until after we've squashed the cheerleader and stolen the cats."
"Well, I do hate Kim Possible even more than sharing," Draken said with a smile.
"Then it is settled," Dementor said in a much more pleasant tone. "We will destroy Kim Possible and then fight each other."
"Indeed," Draken chimed in.
"Uh oh," Rufus gulped. Kim didn't say anything, but she shared the rodent's sentiment.
"This just got a whole lot more serious." Ron commented, paling as the two mad scientists turned on them. Suddenly a crate burst and one of Dementor's burly men screamed, vanishing into the crate.
"You have no idea." The speaker emerged from the crate, the unconscious goon slumping over behind him. He was about Kim's age with non-descript jeans, sneakers, and a black T-shirt. His brown hair was a long, shaggy mess that would appall Monique. His wiry body was so lean Kim thought he was the human equivalent of a protein bar. The larger sabertooth went nuts, roaring and half-rearing, tail whipping and curling like a rope in the wind.
"Who are you supposed to be? Kim Possible's backup?" Shego asked, ridicule lacing her words. The young man smiled, walking into the light, and even Shego took a step back. His arms and neck were covered in burns and slash marks. More scars marred his face. His yellow eyes all but glowed in the dim light.
"Officially, I'm just here to make sure an old friend gets home safely. When Kim Possible showed up I decided to watch and wait. Unofficially…" He paused and turned those eyes on Kim. A jolt ran down Kim's spine when she met his sharp gaze. "That remains to be seen."
"Who do you think you are?" Draken demanded. The young man smirked, his sharp features making the expression almost feral.
"A vigilante."
After that all hell broke loose. The new guy hurled himself at Dementor's minions, fists and feet flying as he struck among them.
"Shego!" Draken yelled. Shego made a beeline for the cage. Kim hurled herself at the other woman. Right as Kim was about to reach her Shego whipped around, her iron calf catching Kim just under the arm with a spinning kick. Pain flared in her side, but Kim pinned the leg between her body and arm and rolled with the force, flipping Shego over. The familiar noises of Ron screaming, the Doctors yelling, and beam weapons firing provided a familiar background track. Shego shot forward, pulling back her arm and striking at Kim the moment she was in range. Kim crossed her arms and blocked the blow a good six inches away from her chest, took a half step back and kicked at Shego's head. Shego ducked and swiped – a near miss.
The two women fell into their familiar sparring pattern, each trying to strike the moment they came in range, constantly dodging backward with an acrobatic flip or steadfast block, rolling ten feet away when space was needed. Kim noticed that Shego seemed to have improved a little after a particularly hard punch slipped past her block, bruising her collarbone.
"Dr. D, get the cats and get out," Shego yelled, forcing Kim to retreat away from the cage with a punch and a leg sweep. "I'll keep litlle miss – oof!" Shego broke off as the new guy leapt in and landed one in the side of her ribcage.
"Hate to interrupt," he said, kicking out a surprised Shego's knee. "But I can't let you leave with the cats." Shego rolled back from a stomp that almost crushed her face and lunged for him. The new guy dropped down and twisted to the side, placing Shego between him and Kim. Shego threw a punch which he caught on his forearm, twisting his arm as she punched to slip past her guard and launch a high kick into her chin. Shego's head snapped back, but not before she could plant a high heel into his sternum. The boy staggered back a few steps but remained standing. Shego steadied herself and glanced between the two of them, muscles tensed. The new boy touched his chest and studied Shego for a moment before his face broke into an almost evil smirk.
"Oh, this is going to be a fun night." And for the first minute or two it was. Shego fought harder and fiercer than she had in monthes, striking without mercy, taking advantage of even the tiniest drop of Kim's guard. The slightest mistep was followed by a crushing kick or bruising punch. But Kim and the vigilante struck from both sides, coordinating their moves so naturally they never needed to speak. Shego sidestepped Kim's kick and tried to back out from between them, so the new guy leapt around to cut her off and drove her back with a short charge, catching the older woman's leg with crossed arms and pushing the kick over his head, forcing Shego to retreat into Kim's punch. Shego struck him in the shoulder, and Kim used the moment of distraction to sweep her legs out from under her. Shego did and hand-spring and flipped back, breathing heavily.
It looked to be an easy finish until Shego ducked a punch and Kim smashed her fist straight into her new partner's face. Blood splashed into the air, and his nose broke under her fist. Kim and Shego paused for a moment, surprised. The new guy took a step back, glaring at Kim. Without taking his scorching yellow eyes off of her he grabed his nose with both hands and forced it back into place, elliciting another spurt of blood.
"Ooops," Shego said, laughter ringing in her voice as she stepped back, grinning. Kim clenched her fists and scowled, but before she could go after Shego the vigilante darted over to her and landed one on her jaw. Darkness momentarily flooded Kim's vision as she reeled, taking another blow to the gut and barely blocking a devastating kick to the neck.
"Wait," Kim protested, ducking under a punch and rolling away. She turned over her shoulder just in time to see a foot rush for her face.
"That's how you die in a fight," he snarled, blood running into his mouth from his nose as he chased Kim, unrelenting. Kim leapt aside, sprang up, and struck at him. He used her arm as a lever to push himself to the side, slip in close, and kick up. Kim caught his leg and tried to throw him. Instead of resisting, Scorn pushed off with his other leg, twisting as Kim threw him to grab her shirt by the collar and pull her to the floor with him. Kim kicked him away and barely scrambled to her feet as he kicked out, pursuing her.
As they fought, Kim learned a few things about the newcomer. He wasn't as strong or skilled as her, and his training had been a spotty collection of styles, with a definite favor for tiger style kung-fu. He was constantly on the attack, turning any defensive tactic into an opportunity to launch another kick or punch. He was also absolutely brutal. Kim swept out with a high kick, which he ducked under before lunging up and forward, grabbing her raised leg with one arm and ramming his knee into her gut, driving Kim onto the floor.
They tussled, and Kim thought she would have him pinned until he heaved his body over, flipping them and using a sharp shoulder blade to drive her head against the concrete, stunning her long enough for him to flip himself over and rain blows upon her. Kim's arms began to burn from blocking his blows. One of his legs was pressed over her ankle, but she hooked her other leg around his neck and pulled him back, giving her just enough time to sit up before his leg shot out, colliding painfully with her ribs. Kim gasped and rocked back onto her arms, using the leverage to drive both her feet into his head, knocking him back to the hard floor before another double kick to the chest had him rolling away.
The boy stood slowly, and Kim could see that his arms and legs had so many bruises they looked like leopard print. Congealed blood covered the bottom half of his face, but he stood tall and settled himself in a ready position, yellow eyes hard. Kim glared.
"What's it going to take to drop you?" Kim grumbled. His lips twisted into a sneer that was more like a snarl.
"Don't know. Haven't found it yet."
"Kim!" Kim looked over her shoulder and mentally slapped herself. While she and the new guy had been fighting each other, Ron had been fighting the henchmen. In true Ron fashion he had managed to overturn a giant shelf of rejected artifacts on top of both sets of goons and trapped Dr. Dementor all at once. But Shego had attached ropes to the top of the cage. Ron was clinging to Shego's waist on top of the cage trying to slow her down. Shego ripped him off and tossed him aside.
"Don't let us interrupt your date, Kimmy," Shego taunted as the hovercraft rose, taking the cage with it. "You two make a cute couple."
"No," the new guy yelled, snarl deepening. He ran at the cage and leapt for the bottom rung. He might have made it, but Shego's hand burst into green flame and she blasted him in the chest. He crashed to the ground and stared up in shock.
"How…" he whispered, staring at Shego's hand and ignoring his smoking shirt. Kim made a split second and decided Draken and Sheo were more important targets.
"Ron, come on" Kim urged, grabbing his hand. She aimed her hairdryer and fired the grappling hook, latching onto the back of the hovercraft right as the vehicle sped away. She began to reel in the line as soon as her feet were whisked away, blocking out Ron's scream as they zipped through the air. When they reached the hovercraft Kim flipped, using the momentum of the ride up to through herself and Ron onto the back end of the hovercraft. Kim landed on her feet, arms raised to fight. Ron belly-flopped on the smooth back-end of the craft and clung on for dear life, shoes scrabbling for a purchase.
"So, you want to come along for the ride, Kim Possible?" Draken asked with a grin. "Then we'll make sure it's a wild one." Draken jerked the wheel to the left, nearly throwing Kim off the hovercraft. She was forced to fall down and grip the sides with spread arms. Kim glanced over and terror spread through her as Ron's grip slipped so only his finger tips kept him on.
"Ron," Kim gasped, snatching Ron with one hand just before he lost his grip. "Hhhhhhnnn-ah," Kim grunted, hauling her best friend up onto the hovercraft. Kim looked up to see Shego kneeling over her. Draken laughed into the background, still turning the hovercraft hard to left. Shego raised a glowing hand, ready to broil her, when Draken stopped laughing.
"Um, Shego, who's that?" Shego glanced over her shoulder and frowned.
"How did he even get on the roof of - what the heck?" The hovercraft rocked as something hit it before leveling out. Kim took the chance to throw Ron up into the hovercraft's backseat and clamber in herself.
"Circling around like that was not a smart move." Kim glanced up, and her eyes opened wide to see the vigilante crouched on the front of the hovercraft, glaring daggers at Shego. "Tell me how you got those glowing hands." Shego glowered, igniting her other hand.
"You want to know how they work?" Shego asked. "I'll give you a demonstration."
"Yes! Blast him off, Shego," Draken cheered. The vigilante raised one hand with his fingers pressed together, as if to karate chop something.
"No need for a demonstration," he said. "I know the what." He narrowed his eyes, and his hand burst into brilliant yellow flames. Kim just stared. He drove his hand through the front of the hovercraft, and black smoke poured through the hole, engine coughing and sputtering. "I want to know the how."
"Are you mad!" Draken yelled, clutching his head in both hands. The vigilante lashed out, breaking the front windshield. Draken yelped and ducked down. As Kim stood, she could see a set of scratches along the top of Draken's head. The vigilante's fingertips were bloody.
"Actually, yeah," he said, smirking. The hovercraft began to sink, the cage below swinging wildly.
"Aaaaarrrrr-ooooougggh-ggg," the sabertooths coughed hoarsely. The boy's scowl deepened and he struck out. His fingers left a trail of sparks, furrows springing up across the control board. He glared at Shego and Draken, baring a mouth of yellow teeth.
"Your move," he snarled. Shego glanced over the side and grinned. Kim tensed, knowing that look all too well.
"What do you say we lighten the load, Dr. D.?" She asked. Quick as thought Shego fired a beam of green fire…down over the side of the hovercraft. A burst of light errupted from below, followed by a chorus of screams. Kim looked over and gasped. An old church rose several stories above a collection of small shops at the head of a circular market place. Dust rose as a spire from the church fell onto the roof, and the whole building began to collapse. Without thinking, Kim grabbed Ron and jumped from the hovercraft.
The church was only one story lower than the hovercraft, and Kim hit the crumbling roof in a roll, attaching her grappling hook to a support beam and swinging into the church. Ron landed on the floor butt-first with a loud "Ow!" A quick look told her that the church was empty except for a single woman, curled in the fetal position partially under a fallen angel statue. Kim hoisted her on her shoulders
"Ron, come on!"
"Coming KP," Ron called running as fast as he could for the open doorway. Kim ran as fast as her legs could carry her, sprinting out the door and around the fountain to the other side of the courtyard where she skidded to a stop. Kim lowered the woman to the ground as Ron came to a panting stop next to her, hands on his knees. The woman turned her head, eyes closed, and moaned.
"Ella," she murmured.
"Mommy!" Kim whipped around to see a little girl lying on the ground just outside the church, trying to scramble up as a brick spire fell to earth, draging the rest of the church with it.
"No," Kim yelled, starting to run even though some part of her knew the gap was hopelessly wide. The spire, almost as tall as the courtyard was wide, pointed straight at her as it rushed to crush the life beneath it. Suddenly a figure bounded from within the church, scooping up the child and running a few yards forward, twirling to stare at the collapsing debris. Before Kim could ask what he was doing, the new boy leapt forward, back into the shadow of the rubble with the child in his arms.
"No," Kim whispered, voice drowned by the crunching of stone and splintering wood. A wave of white dust rose and wafted across the courtyard, brushing over Kim like a fine sandpaper mist. She stared, watching the mass of rubble form through the thinning dust cloud. Before she could reconcile her failure, Kim saw an outline rise through the white cloud.
"No, way," Kim whispered, running over. The vigilante stood, little girl still in his arms. Kim stopped about six feet away, wondering how they survived. She looked down and saw that the bricks around him formed an almost ovular pattern. Slowly Kim realized that he had positioned them so that a decorative arch-shaped hole in the spire would fall over them. Kim stayed quiet as the new boy set the girl down, who immediately ran to her mother. People were starting to gather at the edges of the courtyard, murmuring fearfully, but Kim kept her eyes on the boy in front of her.
He still had his back to her, rolling one shoulder around in its socket. His shirt had torn in the back, and Kim could see an ugly glistening purple bruise where a brick had struck him. He glanced over his shoulder at her, and his lips twisted up in a smirk.
"Well that was an eventful four minutes," he said. Kim tried to think of something to say.
"You saved that girl."
"You saved that woman," he countered, feeling his forearm between his thumb and fingers. For some reason the action was very distracting. "What's your point?" A stab of annoyance made its way through Kim's stupor.
"Who are you?" She demanded. He glanced back at her, lips curling a little higher.
"Name's Scorn," he said, picking up one leg and placing it down again as if checking for sprains. "I've heard of you," he continued. "You do good work."
"Uh, thanks," Kim said, caught off guard. She wondered off-handedly where Ron was. "Um, so, sorry for, you know, punching you back there." The apology came out unexpectedly. Kim glanced away, strangely embarrassed. Scorn finally turned to face her completely, rubbing his bruised shoulder. He was still smirking, but the expression was less harsh than before.
"Let's say the blame is fifty-fifty," he proposed. He raised a hand toward her and began to walk away. "A pleasure to meet you." Kim's mind was jolted awake.
"Hold on," she said, jumping forward and grabbing his wrist. "What were you doing here?" His smirk became a little more mischievous.
"I have multiple reasons for everything I do," he said. Kim glared.
"Just what do you think you're planning?" Kim demanded. His eyes gleamed, reflecting the streetlight so that they stood in a tiny yellow pool amidst the dim night.
"I'm more of a improviser," he said, voice smooth as glass. "I live on my instincts. Like this." He whirled toward her, hand rising toward her face. Kim caught his arm, and he twisted his hands in her grasp to seize her wrists and pull her forward. Kim took in a sharp breath.
For a moment she couldn't comprehend the kiss. Then she felt the heat he radiated, the texture of scarred, rough lips pressed against her own, and her hands tightened over his arms. The instinct to drive her foot between his legs was stalled by a warm coil that spread through her body, a reluctant enjoyment of his touch against her mouth. After a second or two he pulled back, his smirk softer but spreading from ear to ear.
"Have a nice night, Kim Possible," he practically purred before backing away and sprinting down an alley. It took Kim all of three seconds to wake up enough to realize that he had gone.
"KP!" Ron called, running over with a ridiculous smile on his face, holding out a yellow box. "The chocolate shop survived!" His smile withered under her death glare.
CallMeBeepMeIfYouWantToReachMeCallMeBeepMeIfYouWantToReachMe
Scorn limped away through the city's alleyways, cursing himself in every language he knew. He had broken his three biggest rules. Never get too close to a woman. Men he could deal with. They were easier to predict. But even the weakest woman was more dangerous than the strongest man. It was a painful lesson puberty had taught him. Yet he had told her his name. Granted, she probably would have figured it out anyway, but he had saved her the time and thus lost time for himself.
Even worse, he had kissed her. He hadn't been lying when he said that was instinct. He knew himself well. Strength of will was universally attractive, even in his most bitter enemies. And this girl had eyes like cast iron. The reports he had read online didn't do her justice. She was an immovable object.
Scorn ducked behind a wall, glancing back around the corner to confirm was wasn't being followed. He tightened the strip of T-shirt wrapped around a cut on his bicep, heart pounding like it hadn't in weeks.
The KGB once described him as an unstoppable force. Apparently when an unstoppable force met an immovable object, they set his blood boiling. He had nearly forgotten the rush of a good fight without gunfire banging through his ears. But he knew he couldn't blame his quickened pulse on the thrill of a fight alone. And that was very, very dangerous. He would have to take a moment and school his thoughts, turn over this emotion until he could extinguish it. But first, he had unfinished business to attend to.
Scorn resumed his prowl through the city, keeping his face turned away from security cameras as he searched for a library. He needed a computer, fast. His lips twisted into the sneer that had earned him his name, sharp teeth exposed to the breeze. No one would experiment on that cat. Not if they wanted to to walk again. He repeated two names over and over in his head. Dr. Draken and Shego. Shego and Draken. Shego.
He remembered the green fire, it's heat against his chest. The ease with which she kept her hand ablaze. His own hands were uncomfortably hot just thinking about it, sweating in the cool air. His nails itched. He winced, cursing himself again. He had used his power in front of witnesses. All these years of careful concealment might be wasted by a moment of surprise. Soon all of his enemies would know about his Ace-in-the-hole. Scorn set his jaw. He was going to find those two and get his cat back. And maybe he could finally get some answers that he had been waiting eleven long years for.