4. English Hospitality
---
Lord Montgomery Fiske struggled with his luggage as he hopped up the long flight of stairs to the front door of his family castle in Tyne and Wear in Northern England. In a rare moment of nostalgia, he longed for the days when his family's wealth and prestige afforded him some servants to carry his bags. But since his dismissal of Bates three years ago, all of Monty's servants came in the form of monkey ninjas, which were hardly trained in the art of proper British etiquette.
But he was done with all that, Monty resolved. The monkey... thing, was in his past and he was ready to focus on his life's work again. Not simian domination but archeology! His first love, long before he'd ever heard of any form of Hou Quan martial arts or silly rituals involving jade statues. He'd traveled the world, bringing much fame and respect to himself and his heritage. Acclaim that the last three years had dashed without much hope of return.
But it would return. And it would start with the restoration of his castle, Monty decided. It had taken him some time to gather the money to return to his family lands, but now that he was here, things would change.
With a grunt, Monty pushed open the double doors to his castle and found it surprisingly warm inside and well lit. There had been a chill outside in the muggy English fog, and yet it was dry and warm inside his castle. The long hanging cobwebs and piles of dust he expected were nowhere to be seen and he could almost smell fresh cut flowers in the air.
"What's going on here?" Monty mused aloud as she dropped his bags and walked further into the entrance hall. Had one of his erstwhile relatives come and claimed the abandoned residence in his absence? That would prove to be a snag in his plans, but not impossible to overcome. Monty would just have to explain that he had returned and would be dedicating his life to restoring his name and, if possible, his family's seat in the House of Lords.
Preoccupied with thoughts of peerage, Monty nearly ran into the woman exiting the southeast sitting room holding a newspaper and a small plate of crumbs. He stopped abruptly as the woman noticed him as well and they both instinctively uttered a string of apologizes for nearly running each other over and turned to continue on their paths.
Then they both paused and looked back, seeing each other's faces for the first time.
Monty's jaw dropped. "Kim Possible!?" he exclaimed.
"Monkey Fist?" Kim said, her eyes widening.
Monty's instincts upon seeing Kim Possible had been worn into him quite well over the last few years and, lacking an army of servants to command, his body went into plan B almost entirely outside of his control. He turned on his foot, and began to run.
Kim, surprised at Monty's presence and at his sudden dash, fumbled with her plate and newspaper before taking off after him. "Get over here!" she yelled as she reached out to him.
They got as far as the door before Kim grabbed Monty's collar and dragged him back, kicking and shouting.
"Let me go! Leave me be!"
Kim shook her head as he dragged the once great master of monkey kung fu deeper into the castle. "Ron!" she called out as she walked.
---
Monty had been tied up and then strapped to a chair for good measure. Kim didn't feel like taking any risks with the martial artist, even if he was acting as if he'd completely forgotten the mystical monkey art. They were in the main hall in the castle, where Kim was sitting in a plush chair and finishing her paper while Ron paced about, muttering to himself. A fireplace large enough to drive a car through was on one wall housing a large fire.
"What are you two doing in my home?" asked Monty between bouts of Ron's mostly subdued mania and Kim's page turning.
"What do you care?" asked Kim, looking up. "You're never here."
"I'm here now!"
"Well, obviously," she looked back down at her paper as if the conversation was over.
Monty was more confused now than he had been after that HenchCo party. "Why have you invaded my family castle and..." he looked around, "cleaned?"
"Because it smelled of monkeys!" snapped Ron. "Haven't you ever heard of a litter box?"
"A litter box? For monkeys? They are advanced primates, not house cats!" Monty was a little annoyed at this boy's ignorance. Sure, he didn't want to have anything to do with monkey kung fu anymore, but that didn't mean he was going to ignore the vast knowledge in primates he'd accrued.
"It really did smell terrible," added Kim, not looking up. "Air freshener wouldn't cut it."
"Well, nobody invited you," Monty said. "I certainly didn't anyway."
Kim turned the page she was reading and Ron went back to pacing and muttering to himself. Randomly, Ron would pull out a notepad, jot several things down on it, cross out much of what he had already wrote, then shoved the pad back into his pocket to pace again. It was actually quite erratic.
"WHY ARE YOU HERE?" Monty crowed when he could take no more.
"Because you weren't, Monty," said Kim, folding her paper in an annoyed manner. "Which is quite annoying now that you are."
"This is my home," repeated Monty.
"Yes, but you hadn't been back here in years," explained Kim. "Always off in your African or southeast Asian temples with your hordes of hairy goons seeking whatever it is that you do there. Meanwhile your castle was left empty, which is a shame because it's got a great remote location, lots of privacy, huge rooms, preinstalled trap doors and secret passages -– though I suppose they're not quite so secret from you -– but, in short, a great place to hide out."
"Hide out from what?" asked Monty, puzzled but no less outraged. "What are you doing here?"
"We're planning world domination!" Ron suddenly turned and bellowed, followed by a long string of laughter while he held his fists proudly over his head and arched his back.
"What he said," Kim gestured after the laughter had died down.
Monty hung his head. He could not escape it! This thing called villainy was like a virus that would never die. He looked at Kim. "World domination?"
Kim smiled and nodded.
"Okay," sighed Monty. He couldn't possibly be getting the whole story, but whatever, he would roll with it. He spoke evenly and slowly. "Maybe you've forgotten, and that's okay because I've forgotten things myself from time to time, but you're the hero. You're supposed to stop others from taking over the world."
"True," nodded Kim. "But it's really annoying. And we never seem to know what's going on until the last minute. It would be better if we were in charge, so we could see trouble before it starts and nip it in the bud."
Monty blinked. "You're taking over the world, to stop other people from taking over the world," he summarized.
Kim shrugged. "Pretty much."
"You've gone insane."
"Ah, Monty," Kim said with a grin, standing and walking around Monty's chair. "It's always been my world, really. The media loves me, the police help me, even Global Justice seeks me out when it needs a hand. It's a pretty sweet deal, to tell you the truth." She moved behind the chair, rested her arms on the back of the chair and then leaned her chin on top of Monty's head.
"But then you silly boys come in," she continued. "With all your villainy, and try to break my things. I hate that. It's my world, and you have to ask if you want to play with it."
"Our world," Ron corrected, looking up from his notepad momentarily.
Kim rolled her eyes. "Yes, our world, whatever." She picked her head up and began gently patting the top of Monty's head like a drum. "Anyway, I've had enough. Time to try new things. First, take over the world my way, then clean up all the garbage."
She leaned forward and looking down into Monty's eyes from above. "By garbage I mean you and your pals."
"I want nothing to do with the others," said Monty.
Kim smiled. "Of course not." She stood up straight again and walked back over to her chair.
"I've left that all behind," Monty reiterated. "I'm out of the world taking over business. I'm going to focus on my work now so none of what you say involves me. Why don't you and your boyfriend pack up and go crash at the Senior's island or Dementor's lab?"
"Oh, but we've come to like it here so much," said Kim. "And it's not like I'm going to take your word for anything."
"So what do you want?" asked Monty. "What are you going to do with me?"
Kim shrugged. "Any ideas, Ron?"
"Yes, eheh... I do! Aha... boooyahahahahah!" cackled Ron.
"No, I mean ideas about what to do with Monty here," Kim said.
"Oh," Ron nodded. "No, not really." He paused and thought. "There's a dungeon in this place, we can put him there."
"There's a dungeon in your family castle?" Kim asked Monty, amused.
"There most certainly is not," Monty said. He then quietly added, "There is a holding area."
"Was that part of the original architecture?" teased Kim.
"It's a castle," stressed Monty. "Built in the seventeenth century. So, yes, there was a jail. Plumbing was also once accomplished with chamber pots too, but my family decided toilets might not be a bad idea."
"You should have told that to the monkeys," muttered Ron.
"If we put him in the dungeon, we'll have to take care of him," said Kim, frowning. "It would be better to dispose of him somehow."
"So I'm guessing you're going to continue to be squatters in my home," asked Monty.
"That's the plan, ol' boy," said Kim.
"Perhaps I might ask how you plan on dealing with the locals once they notice the castle is inhabited again?" asked Monty.
"With distain, mostly," answered Kim.
"Yes, well, that might convince them you're nationals but not that you have any business residing in a castle belonging to the Fiske Barony."
"What are you suggesting?" asked Kim, a little bemused by Monty's attempts to save his ass.
"That you need me to keep suspicion off of you lest the police get involved," said Monty.
Kim smiled. "Are you offering your services? I thought you wanted nothing to do with villains anymore."
"Yes, well, if the choice is being tossed into the Tyne to die a soggy death or serve you while still residing in my own home, there's not much of an option there," grumbled Monty.
Kim pulled her chair up to Monty's, placed her elbows on the arm of his chair and rested her head in her hands. Her smug smile persisted. "How can we trust you not to bring those very police down on our heads?"
"You have my word," said Monty.
Kim laughed.
"Very well then, I propose a bargain," said Monty.
"I'm listing," Kim said sweetly.
"My family estate is in shambles."
Ron looked around the room. "Doesn't seem that bad to me, especially after we tidied up."
"I don't mean the castle!" Monty sneered at Ron. "I mean my heritage, my family's stock, the money and prestige of my barony."
"You're broke," said Kim.
"In more than one meaning of the word," agreed Monty. "But if I know villains, then you do love to horde money. So we will reach an accord. I will provide for you safe residence here to do... whatever you intend, an in exchange you will add your assets to my estate. We both benefit and thus both risk something substantial though betrayal."
Kim laughed again, but this time less mockingly. "You are quite amusing, Monty, especially without your monkey shtick."
"Do we have an accord?" asked Monty.
"How would I 'add my assets to your estate'?" asked Kim.
"The typical arrangement is through marriage," said Monty. When Kim laughed again, Monty pressed on. "But you're still a minor, so adoption would be less messy."
"How about I just give you the money," said Kim. "Though Lord Kim Possible has a good ring to it."
"The correct title would be 'Dame'," said Monty, irritated. "And that arrangement would do little for my family's prestige."
Kim patted him on the shoulder. "You'll have to handle that on your own." She stood and faced him. "Otherwise your deal is accepted. We pay you, you protect us."
"Agreed," said Monty. "Now can I be untied?"
"Just a second!" Ron suddenly said coming in from another room. Neither Kim nor Monty had noticed him leaving earlier but now he was returning with a red ring of some sort in his hand. He held it in his hands and gently pulled it open on a hinge making it look like some sort of claw.
"What's that?" asked Monty.
Ron walked up to the tied up man and swiftly snapped what Monty now recognized as a collar around his neck. Ron stepped back to admire his handiwork.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Monty yelled.
"It's a control collar," said Ron, smiling evilly. "Something I've been working on since we got here. Just in case you feel like stabbing us in the back anyway, the collar will deliver an electric charge that'll either drop you or kill you, depending on what mood I'm in."
"WHAT?" screamed Monty. "This was not party of the bargain!"
Kim shrugged. "Eh, you're not going to betray us anyway, right, Monty?" she smiled. "As long as you remain on our side, there's no risk to you at all. Seems fair to me, considering our deal requires a bit of trust."
"This isn't trust at all!" Monty said.
"Well, then I guess it requires you to trust us not to kill you for no reason," said Kim, nodding. "Trust me, we wont." She smiled yet again.
Monty gritted his teeth, but contained his urge to strangle as Kim produced a knife and deftly cut his ropes. He stood and regarded his 'captors' with unveiled hatred.
"That's a nice look on you, monkey boy," said Kim. "Now go run along and deal with your countrymen." She waved her hand in a dismissive fashion.
Monty bowed slightly, as if a servant, and walked away. Kim sighed when he was out of earshot and leaned casually on Ron's shoulder. He was going through some of his notes like he always was these days.
"That was fun," Kim said. "We'd been cooped up in here so long I forgot how much fun it is to menace another person."
"Why did you do that?" asked Ron, a little accusingly. "We've been here for a week and nobody's come along to question us. The castle's been empty for years, I doubt anyone even cares anymore. And we certainly don't need to pay Monkey Fist to deal with the locals for us."
Kim leaned more into her partner and ruffled his hair. "Because I was bored," she said simply. "And why not have a servant or two? We haven't made much progress on getting our own henchmen yet, anyway."
Ron grumbled for a minute. "I underestimated the logistics of making robotic servants," he eventually said. "Progress has not stopped."
"Awww, you're worried that Drakken is going to seem like a better mad scientist than you." Kim gave Ron's cheek a gentle tug.
"I am better than Drakken," Ron insisted, stopping his scribbling. "My inventions do what they're supposed to do."
"But not in the manner you expect," pointed out Kim.
Ron returned to scribbling and grumbling. Kim giggled and kissed him on the cheek before walking over to the fire and warming her hands. "It'll be fun," she said. "Playing with Monty for a while." She made a small smile at the warmth against her face and along her body. "Then when we're done with him we can toss him onto the fire."
"A time that can only come too soon," said Ron.
---
Monty woke up the next day in his old bed after feeling the first rays of sunlight. He immediately rose his hand to feel his neck and confirm, yes, it wasn't a nightmare, he really had been collared by the buffoon Ron Stoppable and was now essentially in indentured servitude to the 'hero' Kim Possible. He considered closing his eyes again and willing himself into a coma, but that wouldn't really fix anything and would be as useful as if he had let himself be tossed in the river.
No, today was day one of operation 'Foil Kim Possible's Plans,' Monty resolved. He was just a servant now, but he would find a way to escape their leash and be free, collar be damned. All it would take is time, and he had plenty of that now.
Throwing back his sheets, Monty swung his feet over the edge of the bed and stood. He felt his feet sink into something soft and mushy. He looked down slowly. It appeared as though someone had spread a layer of peanut butter along the floor around his bed while he slept. Elsewhere in the castle he could hear the echoing laughter of Ron Stoppable.
---
By the time Monty finally got cleaned up and down to the kitchen he saw Kim Possible at the island reading a news paper and eating a scone with some coffee. Ron Stoppable was nowhere to be found.
"Good morning, Monty," said Kim cheerfully when she saw him.
"Yes, I can only hope every morning starts with being covered in peanut butter," Monty said sarcastically.
Kim looked at him skeptically. "You have some odd fetishes for a monkey boy," she commented, then returned to her paper.
Monty began preparing himself some hot water for tea. While before his sojourn into villainy he had never gone for long without at least one of his servants by his side, he was at least passably able to function in the kitchen. Hot water and a tea bag wasn't high cuisine but he knew several other nobles in his youth that had managed to become quite defunct in any discipline normally performed by a servant. Such as using a vacuum cleaner.
After he had managed to brew his cup of tea he looked over at Kim Possible, looking as normal as any person having their morning breakfast and paper. There was little sign of the demon that had apparently been borne within her.
Something tugged at the corner of his mind.
"Where did you get the paper?" he asked suddenly. "You haven't... subscribed, have you?"
Kim looked up and thought for a moment. "I steal it every morning from one of your neighbors."
Monty worked out the logistics of that statement. "The nearest neighbor is over five miles from here, and it's not as though the paper is bound to be sitting on their lawn."
Kim shrugged. "I need to get my workout somehow." She went back to reading.
Monty decided he wouldn't ask any more irrelevant questions.
---
At about midday, Monty wondered if this arrangement would actually be all that bad. Yes, he had to endure an elementary school trick upon waking, but after that, Kim and Ron had left him almost entirely to his own devices. Since he had not been home in so many years, he decided to tour his family's property, becoming familiar again.
He started by wandering the halls of the west wing and discovered that while Possible had arranged for cleaning to some of the castle, many of the ancillary rooms had simply been closed and ignored. Much of the guest rooms were still dusty and in need of repair, and the facilities in that area of the castle were also barely functional. He hadn't guessed that pipes might rust in three years of neglect, but he was proven wrong.
Moving back into the main hall of the castle, he started to venture towards the sub-levels but heard cackling and shouts that sounded like Ron Stoppable. Any ability to avoid him Monty was apt to indulge in, so he avoided that area of the residence and headed upstairs. There were three stories in total in the main building, and his room was on the second along with other well conditioned suites. Having seen that floor already he continued past it.
The third floor is where, Monty recalled, his parents had lived when they all were in the castle. Their suite was expansive and filled with the amenities of title. Silver mirrors, ivory post caps, jade statues. A four post canopy bed was in the center of their sleeping area, and the sheets were rumpled indicating that someone, either Possible or Stoppable, slept there. Or perhaps both. Monty felt his stomach turn at that thought, and continued onward.
The gallery was also on the third floor, where the Fiske family's paintings and trophies were. Many were of other prestigious members of the family, all of which were long dead, but several were of other famous people and landscapes painted by a possible artist in the family from generations past. There were many stands and podiums along the walls here too, but most were bare, having been sold off in Monty's own eager quest to mutilate his own body.
Shaking his head, Monty continued onward. There was an expansive sitting room on this floor as well, and then the adjacent servants quarters. Back when the Fiske barony was wealthy and respected, there had been many staying in these areas, but even before Monty had been born the service staff had dwindled to a few. Monty had done much for his family name, becoming a world renowned archeologist, but it was piddling compared to the heritage this castle was borne from.
Descending the stairs back to the ground level, Monty heard the door bell ringing in the hall. He picked up his pace and quickly made his way to entrance. Opening the large oaken doors, Monty was greeted with the sight of a man in a suit and trench coat. He didn't look familiar, but then again, Monty had never really answered the door in his own home before.
"What is it?" asked Monty, in his most cordial.
"I'm looking to speak with His Honorable Lord Montgomery Fiske," said the man in a gruff voice.
"That's me," said Monty, surprised that his prediction had come true so soon.
"You're Lord Fiske?" asked the man, unconvinced.
"That's what I had just said, you fool. Must I repeat myself?" Monty replied, irritated.
The man reached into his trench coat and pulled out a badge. "My name is Inspector Caldwell."
"Oh," said Monty, and nothing more.
"How long have you been at residence here, Lord Fiske?" asked the inspector.
"Only the day," said Monty.
The man looked around for a second. "Things look pretty picked up for only a day."
"I had my servants come ahead of me to prepare the grounds," Monty said quickly. "What is it that you want?"
"These servants are too busy to answer the door, I assume?" asked the inspector.
Monty looked at the man with a frown. "What can I do for you, inspector?"
"The last three years there hasn't been any payment of taxes or services on these lands, which is normally grounds for the estate to be seized," said Inspector Caldwell. "In light of your title, this property was held in escrow pending a rightful owner's return, however, you cannot take ownership of this residence again without resolving your debt of back taxes."
Monty frowned. This was one of those things he had left in the care of Bates and had rarely tried to handle on his own. It seemed deplorable to him that someone would even consider taking his family's land until he realized that the only surviving member of direct lineage to his family was himself and until a couple weeks ago, he could have cared less about the property. "Er, okay," started Monty. "What's the amount?"
The inspector pulled out an envelope and handed it over. Monty started to open it but the inspector interrupted him.
"You have thirty days to respond to this or we will be forced to retake this land," said the inspector. He nodded slightly. "Your lordship." He turned and walked away.
Monty frowned at the letter. No matter what the amount there was little chance he had enough in his pocket to cover it. He opened it all the same and looked.
"Oh."
---
Monty looked for nearly a half hour before deciding that Kim Possible was nowhere within the castle for him to find. This was troublesome, as it meant he had to deal with Stoppable, an entirely odious concept.
Descending the stairs he found much of the sub-level rooms and storage had been converted into some sort of lunatic's lab, with tables covered in wires, pieces of electronics and machinery, and several questionable creations standing like sentinels around a long table where the buffoon stood. Monty approached with caution because there was no other way to do so.
"Stoppable," said Monty.
"What is it?" spat Ron. "Can't you see I am in the middle of creation?"
"Yes, I'm sure you are," Monty said sarcastically. "But we have a problem."
"Resolve it," said Ron. Then he waved the defunct lord away.
"We owe money to the government," said Monty. "A... quite a bit of money."
"Then pay them," replied Ron. "These are simple problems."
Monty rolled his eyes then reached out and grabbed Ron by his coat lapels. "Listen, you simpleton!" he growled. "Unless you've been stuffing my coffers since yesterday, there is no cash to pay them with!"
Ron frowned and, for once, seemed to actually focus on Monty long enough to see him. "Well, how much do you need?" he asked, candidly.
Monty let go of Ron's coat and pulled out the letter. Ron took it an unfolded it. He blinked. "Oh."
"You see?" pressed Monty.
"How much time do we have?"
"Thirty days."
"Hmmmm," Ron mused as he began to pace around the lab.
"Not this again," sighed Monty.
Ron paced in several circles before looking up. "Where is Kim?"
"I haven't the faintest," said Monty.
"Find her, then we shall deal with this 'problem' of yours," announced Ron.
"I did not agree to be your manservant," Monty pointed out. "Find her yourself."
Ron gazed at Monty. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small blue plastic box with a dial and three buttons on it. He waved it in an intimidating fashion at Monty. "Consider this an amendment to our agreement." He held his hand threateningly over the dial.
Monty sneered at Ron, then turned to leave.
---
"The problem," Ron began once Monty and Kim had been gathered before him, "as I see it, is that we need money."
They were sitting in the same great room that Monty had been held captive in before, and the memory did not improve his mood. He breathed noisily. "What a stunning revelation," he intoned.
"Of course, to have money, we must get money."
"Ron, I think you'd better cut to the chase," said Kim.
"To get money," Ron pressed on, regardless of the criticism, "we will steal money. AND!" Ron eyed his audience of two, daring them to interrupt. "We will steal the money, from the very people who try to extort it from us."
Monty shook his head. "This is going to end poorly for all of us."
"What do you mean?" asked Kim.
"The Bank of England," said Ron. "England's central bank. Holds a substantial amount of bank notes and, in its basement, holds over four thousand tons of gold."
"Wow," said Kim, as yet unimpressed. "So what's the plan?"
"We steal it."
Kim sighed. Monty groaned.
Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out a short stack of paper. The top sheet had loosely drawn schematics and notes strewn across it. "With this!"
Kim got up and took the stack of papers. "What is this?" she asked, paging through the designs. Whatever it was, it was massive.
"Do you remember when Drakken robbed the Nakasumi toy factory a few years back?" Ron posited.
Kim frowned for a moment then her eyes widened. "Ah, okay, I get it."
"Well I don't," Monty said. "What is he blithering on about?"
"We don't steal the money or the gold," said Ron, spreading his arms apart. "We still all of it."
"All of what?"
"The building," said Ron. "We cut it out, pick it up, and take it away. Then we can deal with the locks and vaults on our own time."
"That's preposterous!" Monty concluded. "You can't just take a building, it'll crumble to dust from the transport. Not to mention the Bank of England has a basement, as you said. You'll have to take the entire substructure as well! Completely asinine."
"Drakken did it," said Ron.
"That just proves how asinine this plan is," Monty countered. "'Drakken did it' is not a litmus test for sanity. Quite the opposite, in fact."
"I've vastly improved his techniques," said Ron. "He used several helicopters and took a connected machine swinging from tow-cables. My plans is to use a particle laser to cut the building away from its neighbors and then use a giant magnet-plate to raise it up and fly it away."
"You're going to use magnets to lift a building?" Monty mocked.
"SUPER Magnets!" corrected Ron.
Monty smacked his forehead with his palm.
Kim finished looking through the plans, then shrugged. "Sounds like fun."
"Yes, it'll all be fun when we're buried beneath sixty million pounds of rock," Monty muttered into his hands.
Kim skipped back over to Monty and punched him playfully in the arm. "Come on, Monty! Where's your team spirit and sense of adventure?"
"I have neither."
"Then look on the bright side," Kim smiled. "If we all die, then you won't have to be our servant anymore AND you'll become famous again for dying in the largest bank heist ever conceived."
"Neither of those things is appealing," Monty's droll voice continued. "Why can't we just steal some rare artifact or rob a perfectly normal bank?"
"Nope," Kim shook her head. "No fun. I like this plan."
"Yes, I can see that it's questionable logic and absurdly high cost of execution are what all the cool kids are doing these days."
"Yes, that brings us to our first task," Ron returned to the forefront of the conversation. "Materials."
Kim looked back at the sack of papers. "Looks like we need to get some take-out," she said. "What are you in the mood for?"
Ron smiled evilly. "I'm feeling like Dementor."
"Professor Dementor it is," Kim nodded.
---
Author's Note: There are some pretty silly concepts in this chapter about the manner in which English peerage works in addition to general statements about the government of Great Britain. These are intentionally silly, and in no way intended to reflect my opinion of the UK or its people. Kim Possible (the series) always played things fast and loose when it came to the more complicated concepts of law and justice (such as the fact that Drakken, being a citizen with designs on overthrowing the government would be considered both guilty of treason and terrorism and would never end up in a general population jail such as in Season 4), and I'm doing much the same here.
It's just a fanfic, you should really just relax...
