Kim Possible belongs to Disney.

Extra special thanks go to SpicyWeasel aka Hanna for drawing two brilliant illustrations based on this fanfic. I can never thank her enough for the kind act.

Just a quick note about something my sister was wondering about. Torch is British English for flashlight, so whenever the characters in this story talk about torches, they don't mean the traditional flaming ones.

THE MONKEY'S VALET

Chapter 4

"I think I will have to go back soon."

Those were the words that Lord Fiske blurted out as soon as he stepped into the car at the airport. Bates turned to look behind his shoulder and saw his master grinning at him with what had to be one of the happiest smiles he had ever seen on his face.

"I assume your trip was worthwhile then, milord?" he asked.

Lord Fiske leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair, making it ruffled and messy. "Worthwhile?" he repeated giddily. "It was more than worthwhile, Bates! You have no idea how much I learnt, what I experienced! You should have been there!" He let out a small laugh, and Bates bit back the question of whether they had served wine on the flight.

"How delightful, milord," he remarked as he started the engine and began a daring escapade into the traffic of London.

There had been no word from Lord Fiske throughout the time he had been in China, not a single letter, phone call or even an e-mail. All Bates had known of his return was the date they had agreed on before the trip, and on the morning of that day the Heathrow Airport had seen him waiting for his master with a nervous feeling in his stomach. All sorts of thoughts had flashed through his mind; what if the lack of communication was because something bad had happened, maybe Lord Fiske was still mad at him, maybe he wasn't coming back at all.

He had therefore released a deep sigh of relief when he had seen Fiske among the other first class passengers, looking no different than ever before. It might have been simply because the two of them had rarely been apart this long, but there was something that was making Bates uneasy about the whole business in China. It was good to have his master back.

"I would have loved to stay longer. What I learnt there was barely scratching the surface. It's infuriating that I do not posses the opportunity to study everything at once. But of course, I had to come back to my responsibilities or I would run out of resources," Lord Fiske blabbered. The two months had made him entirely forget how upset he had been with Bates when they had parted. It relieved the valet a great deal, but at the same time he was just a tad annoyed by that Fiske was acting like nothing had happened. His Lordship's hurt feelings might have been healed, but Bates still had a grieving sister.

"Yes, about that…" he started uncertainly, not really knowing how to present the bad news.

"What is it?" Fiske asked.

Bates coughed. "Milord has received quite a number of phone calls," he said.

"Really? What are they about?"

"Well, it seems like there has been some kind of misunderstanding regarding your work. The gentlemen at the museum are somewhat upset with you at the moment," Bates said.

Fiske frowned and rubbed his chin in thought. "Funny. I thought I left Arthur a note. It must have slipped my mind," he said, switching to a lighter town towards the end. Bates took a glance at his master through the mirror, but there was no sign of worry on the man's face. It wasn't like Lord Fiske to be that indifferent about, well, about anything.

"If I may so bold, I'd suggest you contact Mr Graves when you have the time. He has been calling the most," he said.

"I'll do that later. I have quite a lot of things to do at home," Fiske replied. He had brought one bag with him into the car, and it was neither of the two suitcases he had taken with him originally. The shape of the bag revealed nothing, but Bates a hunch about its contents.

"Did you acquire a new piece of art, milord?" he asked.

"Much better than that, Bates," Fiske said.

"It wouldn't be one of those monkey statues, would it?" Bates wondered out loud. He didn't know if he should have hoped for a negative answer because while he wasn't eager to have another one of the ugly excuses of statues in the castle, he knew that Lord Fiske would eventually possess them all anyway. If he had found one in China, it meant Bates had one less trip to the ends of the Earth to look forward to.

Fiske chuckled light-heartedly. "You know me too well. It took me a while to retrieve it, but it was worth all the trouble. You'll see when we're home," he said.

Bates doubted that, but he couldn't deny that he was curious about everything that had happened in China. Lord Fiske hadn't even told him what he had gone to study there, and the past two months were a complete blank spot in his master's life to him.

"Did you manage to discover anything else there?" he asked.

Though he couldn't see behind his back, the tone of Lord Fiske's voice told him that the man was not smiling anymore. "As I said, I learnt more than I ever thought possible, and it was merely the beginning. Much more must be revealed to me before I am ready for my destiny."

"Your destiny, milord?" Bates repeated. Had those Chinamen managed to fill his master's head with idiotic rubbish about magic and mystique? He grimaced slightly, knowing that he should have been there as Lord Fiske's voice of reason.

"Don't sound so doubtful. There is much that the white man doesn't understand about this world, but I have seen a fraction of it. I must learn much more if I want to discover the truth about these statues," Fiske explained, sounding like his mind had drifted off to some distant dimension that only he could see. Bates usually didn't mind that, but now they weren't talking about historical facts but utter nonsense that no sane person would believe in.

"I'm afraid your words are making me somewhat uneasy, milord," he said after a brief hesitation. "Surely you don't believe in that old legend?"

Lord Fiske laughed, and the sound soothed Bates's fears somewhat.

"I haven't lost my mind yet, Bates. When I say destiny, I mean finding all four statues and discovering the secrets behind them. I think this could be an excellent subject for a new book," Fiske said.

"It is a bit melodramatic, though, milord," Bates replied.

"You would understand my fascination if you had been with me and seen what I have," Fiske said. He paused for a moment. "So, how is Margaret?"

Bates was almost surprised that Lord Fiske had remembered she even existed. Maybe it was cynical of him, but he had learnt to understand that there was room for only a few things at a time in the man's mind. When he was particularly interested in something, he forgot everything and everyone else. The good side of it was that he always found a new passion after a while. Bates didn't even want to think about what Lord Fiske would be like if he ever got fixated on one single thing.

"She's fine, but it's lonely to take care of the inn alone, even with the customers there. I just spoke to her yesterday and she'd like some company," Bates replied. He had decided to approach Lord Fiske about the subject of Margaret moving to the castle later when his master wasn't tired from the long flight and had sorted out his business with the museum.

"Well, that's understandable," Fiske remarked, and that was all he said about the subject during the trip home.

They arrived at the Fiske Castle when the evening was already turning dark. Bates hid a yawn behind the back of his hand as he went to take Lord Fiske's luggage inside, tired from driving. Despite that there was still much to do before he could go to bed, he was feeling happy because his master was finally back and their life could take a turn for the normal again.

The past week in the old castle had been far from a pleasant one. He had dusted every room and prepared everything for Lord Fiske's return, but even all the work hadn't been able to take his mind off that there was nobody to talk to and nothing else to do. He hadn't gone to the town because he didn't want to miss any phone calls from Margaret, so he had ended up roaming the hallways alone with his thoughts.

Lord Fiske stretched his back after carefully putting down the bag with the second monkey statue. He had clutched onto it as soon as he had got out of the car and Bates guessed he wasn't welcome to offer carrying it instead.

"Take a look at this," Fiske said as he opened the bag and revealed the statue. It had smaller ears than the first one, but Bates thought it looked just as ugly.

"I say," he muttered in suitable interest because he knew Lord Fiske was expecting him to be impressed.

"Magnificent, isn't it? I must look into the slight differences between the statues at once. They might be clues to discovering the secret of the tribe that made them. Maybe they're even supposed to represent some kind of gods," the man said and looked down at the statue with affection.

"So there are two more statues left, then," Bates observed.

"Indeed. I'm afraid I don't have many clues about their locations, but I'm sure I'll discover them eventually. In the meantime, I have to find a good hiding place for the two I already possess," Fiske said.

Bates lifted a brow. "A hiding place, milord?"

"Well, yes," Fiske blurted out like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't want anyone to know of my research, so the statues can't stay in my study."

Though it was on the tip of Bates's tongue, he didn't ask why anyone would care about this research or want to steal the results, especially after Fiske had already told Graves that there was nothing interesting about the statues.

"Maybe we can move them into one of the guestrooms," he suggested.

Lord Fiske rubbed his chin and frowned in thought, his eyes turning to the floor. "No, I don't think that's good enough. Someone can find them there," he said.

"We never have guests, milord," Bates reminded him.

Fiske ignored the comment and instead turned to face the fireplace. "I was thinking more along the lines of the secret rooms we have here. Wasn't there a good one over there?" he asked, but it wasn't really a question. Bates knew there was no way Lord Fiske could have forgotten that particular room, not after he had discovered it as a child and accidentally locked himself in for a day.

Bates hadn't been even twenty when it had happened, but decades had done nothing to blur the memory of the day in his mind.

Everyone in the castle had been in panic that day, searching every corner and side room for the disappeared eight-year-old boy but ending up empty-handed no matter where they looked. They had even sent a man down the abandoned well in the moors that everyone had almost forgotten about. Everybody had been relieved when they hadn't found young Monty there but also worried because it meant they had no other places to search.

It had eventually been Bates's father who had discovered the secret room, only because he recalled hearing stories of it as a boy. The Fiske castle was rumoured to contain numerous hidden rooms and passages, even one where an ancestor had chained his daughter to the wall, sealed the door and left her to starve to death for falling in love with a peasant. Most of them had been forgotten in the years and the only ones still in recent memory were those that servants used as shortcuts to different parts of the castle.

After Margaret had told their father that she had seen young Monty in the lounge before his disappearance, Richard Bates had decided to investigate and had opened the door to the room by accident after two hours of experimenting. They had found Monty sitting in a corner in the dark room, fortunately not the one in the stories about the rebellious daughter, scared but completely unharmed.

He had shielded his eyes against the intruding light they had brought into the room and yelped when his mother had pushed her way past the men and scooped him up in her arms. Bates had caught a glimpse of Monty's face at that moment, and he had been surprised to see that the boy was taking the situation better than his parents, both of whom were now burying him in words of worry and relief.

Once everyone had calmed down a little they had asked the boy exactly what had happened. He had explained that he had opened the door by accident when he had been trying to reach a book that had been placed above the fireplace. The discovery had made him forget all common sense and he had gone to investigate the mysterious room, locked himself in the dark and been unable to open the door from the other side. Nobody had heard his calls for help, so he had decided to wait.

"But I wasn't scared," he had added quickly. He had slept with his parents the following night.

His parents had immediately announced that if their son ever came across other secret rooms, it was entirely forbidden to enter them. It didn't work, of course, since young boys were known to disobey their parents in order to get into adventures. Bates had caught the young master several times trying to find out if the room with the chained girl existed.

"You certainly seem lost in your thoughts."

Bates blinked as he realised that Lord Fiske was speaking to him and regarding him with a somewhat amused expression in his eyes.

"My apologies, milord," he said hastily. "I was just reminded of how we discovered that room."

"Ah, yes. I remember it, too. What a stroke of luck it was," Lord Fiske said.

"I wouldn't call an incident like that luck, milord," Bates remarked.

"Well, I wasn't that thrilled about it at the moment, but the room does have its uses at present time, does it not?" Fiske asked as he walked to the fireplace and pulled at the chandelier on the wall. The fireplace started moving downwards with an angry growl for the mechanism had remained abandoned for centuries, excluding the little accident.

Bates guessed it made sense. What else could you use a secret room for other than hiding things you didn't want anyone else to see? The only problem was that he didn't think the two of them had any reason to hide anything, so the whole idea was ludicrous to him.

"There should be a torch somewhere in that suitcase," Fiske said and pointed to the smaller piece of luggage. Bates went to take it out and handed it to his master.

"Now, let's see," Fiske said and pointed the light down the stairs. He started going down and Bates followed, somewhat curious to see what they would find. Nobody had been in the room since that day decades ago because Lord Fiske's father had forbidden anyone from opening the door again, and eventually they had lost interest.

"Isn't it amusing that I can go exploring at my own home?" Fiske asked happily when they came to the end of the stairs.

"Very, milord," Bates said.

"When I'm retired, I'm going to have to turn this place upside-down and find all the secret rooms that have been lost. I'm still curious to know if the story about Lady Catherine is true," Fiske said. He pointed the light around the room to see if there was anything worth their attention, but it looked like the place was empty. Only dust lay on the rough stone floor.

"This rules out the possibility of hidden family treasures, I suppose," Fiske remarked.

Bates looked around in the light of the torch. The room was built of roughly carved reddish stone and was surprisingly large. The lack of furniture and artefacts meant that there was no way to know what the place had been used for in the past, but he was certain it had to be something more important than a storage room.

Lord Fiske walked to the centre of the room and pointed the light at the floor. "I wonder if they used this room for magic rituals in the past," he said.

"Magic?" Bates repeated. Of all the uses for the room, that wasn't one to first pop into his mind.

"Not real magic. One of my medieval ancestors was fascinated by the Celts and their druids. It's possible he could have used the room for some role-playing," Fiske said thoughtfully. Then he shrugged, as if to rid the unimportant ideas from his head. "But that doesn't matter. Whatever this room was used for, it's perfect for hiding the monkey statues. We just need to get some electricity down here."

"Shall I call the constructors, milord?" Bates asked, but Lord Fiske shook his head.

"No. I don't want anyone to know about this room. We'll do it ourselves," he said.

They returned to the lounge and closed the secret door behind them. Lord Fiske turned off the torch and placed it on the fireplace. He then went to pick up the second monkey statue.

"I'll be in my study if you need me," he said.

"Very well," Bates said. He hoped that Lord Fiske was going to sort out his business with the museum instead of staying up the rest of the evening and night researching the statues, but he didn't' want to risk annoying his master by reminding him of his responsibilities. Besides, he had his own to take care of.

Bates picked up Fiske's two suitcases and decided to go and unpack them in his master's bedroom. He expected them to be filled with dirty clothes since Fiske was hopeless at doing his own laundry, but he was in for a surprise when he opened the cases. Everything was clean and in neat folds, and every single item was in its correct place.

He must have had someone to do this for him, Bates realised. It just made his work easier, so he didn't mind. He started piling the clothes on the large bed so that he could put all of them into the closet at the same time.

At first he thought that there was nothing but clothes in the suitcase, but at the very bottom he found a thin box. He had never seen it before and there were Chinese writing characters carved on it, so he guessed Lord Fiske must have acquired it on his trip. There was something loose inside the box, but Bates placed it on top of the clothes pile with no intention of opening it.

It was too bad that fates had another course of action planned for him. The weight of the box made the pile topple over and fall on the floor. The mysterious box snapped open with a clank, and a small notebook came rolling from inside it.

Frowning at his own clumsiness, Bates started collecting the fallen clothes. When he went to pick up the book, he was at first going to simply put it back into the box and pretend he had never even seen it, but then he caught a glimpse of what was written on the page that had been opened.

25th of April, Huang Shan

He realised that he had stumbled upon a diary that Lord Fiske had been keeping on his trip. He quickly shut the book before he had the chance to see anything else that was written there. What little he had already seen was bad enough as he had absolutely no right to stick his nose into his master's private matters, nor did he have any particular interest to do so.

Well, maybe that was a slight lie. Lord Fiske hadn't given him any details about what he had done in China or where he had gone there, even after Bates had subtly tried asking about it. All he could get from his master was that it had been amazing and that he should have been there, which was frustrating to say the least.

Feeling just a tad regretful, Bates put the notebook back into the box and closed the lid. It clicked faintly as secrets were put away from his reach. He kept telling himself that age had made him overly curious and nosy and that he had absolutely no right to even think about reading the journal, but the simple fact that he didn't know what Lord Fiske had been up to for the past two months bothered him.

He did say I should have been there, he thought to himself. That was almost like giving him the permission to take a peek.

No, it wasn't. Bates shook his head and placed the box in the drawer in the nightstand, away from his treacherous thoughts. Never during his decades serving the Fiske family had he even considered breaking their trust like that, and he felt ashamed for his brief moment of temptation.

If Lord Fiske wanted him to know what had happened in China, he would tell him about it. That was final.

Somewhat encouraged by this firm decision, Bates returned to unpacking the suitcases. He didn't think about the box and the diary anymore, but he worked as fast as he could so that he could leave the room and be away from the nightstand and its contents.

When he walked past Lord Fiske's study some time later, he heard that his master was currently talking on the phone with someone. This time he let his curiosity get the better of him and he went past a little more slowly than he should have.

"I understand you're upset and I do apologize for my absence, but --" Lord Fiske was saying. He was interrupted by the other person and had to listen for a few moments before he was able to continue.

"Jonathan, don't be ridiculous. You know just as well as I do that that is not it. Of course the museum is important to me," he said, his voice turning into a frustrated growl near the end.

Bates decided that there was nothing to be gained by eavesdropping on Lord Fiske's conversation with Mr Graves and that the best thing he could do at the moment was to go and prepare some tea. Fiske was certainly going to be in a foul mood once the heated argument was over.

The phone call still hadn't ended when he came back a few moments later, carrying a tea service. He decided to be bold and enter the study without knocking. Fiske only acknowledge his arrival with a nod of his head, and Bates placed the tray on the desk, careful to find a spot where it would be least likely to fall over and ruin the books and papers spread all over the surface.

He saw that Lord Fiske had placed the second monkey statue next to the first one. They were both glaring at him with empty stone eyes and horrid grins. Again he wondered what it was that made them so fascinating to his master. It couldn't be simply the legend behind them because such stories were common and Fiske had never shown such interest for any other tales like that.

Since he believed Lord Fiske to be an entirely rational man and scholar, the only answer he could come up with was that his master knew something that he hadn't shared with him. There had to be something more about the statues and the tribe of warriors that had made them, and it was this that had captured Fiske's attention so tightly.

He knew Lord Fiske would tell him everything in due time, but that did little to take away the annoyance he felt for being kept in the dark. He had served the family for all his life. Surely he could be trusted, no matter how sensitive the information was?

Then again, he had briefly considered reading that diary…

Bates was just about to exit and leave Lord Fiske to his business, but that was the moment when the phone call finally ended. Fiske put down the receiver and growled under his breath, closing his eyes and rubbing them tiredly.

"Is something the matter, milord?" Bates inquired.

"Jonathan is overreacting, as usual. It is unfortunate that I forgot to inform them of my trip, but they were able to find a replacement. I don't see why he has to act like the world has come to an end," Fiske said, making an annoyed gesture with his hand.

Though he would have liked to side with his master, Bates couldn't help but look at the situation objectively. Lord Fiske had abandoned his responsibilities and left his colleagues in trouble for reasons that, in Bates's opinion, weren't good enough for that. And being used to getting what he wanted, all Fiske could see was the importance of his own research, not the problems it caused others.

He cleared his throat. "Maybe he has the right to feel somewhat irritated, milord?" he suggested.

Fiske shot a glare at his valet and crossed his arms on his chest. "I can understand that he's angry, but there is no need to take it so out of proportion when no harm was done. He had the nerve to suggest that the others would sweep this under the rug simply because of my family history and previous work for the museum!" he snapped.

"And they won't?" Bates asked. He knew he was advancing on risky territory now and that he should have simply agreed with his master, as he usually did, but there was a part of him that wanted to challenge him now. The monkey statues had caused the whole problem and Lord Fiske had to become at least aware of that he couldn't overlook everything else in his life in their favour.

"No," Fiske said in a tight tone, "because there is nothing to be hidden. I have done nothing wrong."

"Of course not, milord, but --"

Fiske wasn't even listening to him. "Still, I suppose it would be wise to take a break until everything returns to normal," he mused thoughtfully.

Finally. It was about time Lord Fiske got his priorities straight. Bates sighed and offered his master a slight smile.

"I am very glad to hear that, milord. Maybe you can continue your research on the monkey statues in a later time," he said.

"Oh, no, you misunderstand me. I'm going to keep my distance to the museum for a while, just long enough so that they calm down a little. In the meantime, I can dedicate all my time to the monkeys," Fiske said and pointed his hand at the two statues.

"But won't that make them even angrier, milord?" Bates wondered.

"Nonsense! I'll tell them that I'm writing a new book. That always wins their favour," Fiske said. He was looking at Bates with an expectant smile, assuming that his valet would be just as happy about the decision as he was, but Bates wasn't quite good enough at hiding his disappointment.

"If you think that is for the best…" he said lamely.

"I do."

"Very well."

Bates excused himself after a few more words with Lord Fiske and returned to the kitchen, though he currently had no chores to do there. The spacious room was one of the few places in the entire castle where there was absolutely nothing monkey-related. Lord Fiske had stopped coming there after he had turned nine and could no longer use his innocent eyes to get biscuits from Bates's mother. The kitchen was of absolutely no interest to him, so it had been left in its original state.

Sometimes, when life with Lord Fiske became more stressful than usual, Bates simply liked to sit down by the table and drink a good mug of tea, not having to worry about appearances, his behaviour or watch his words. Someone who had never worked as a servant couldn't possibly understand how much such brief moments of freedom could mean in a man's life.

He didn't bother turning on the lights. Years had taught him his way around and he could have prepared a pot of tea with a blindfold on. When he was done, he sat down and wrapped his fingers around the mug, letting the warmth spread up his hands and arms.

Bates didn't know what to think. If someone had told him a few months ago that Lord Fiske would shove aside his responsibilities to the museum without a second thought and dedicate his time to something else, he would have laughed and said that the world was more likely to end.

He guessed he should have been a little worried about how fascinated his master was by the statues and the myth, but there had been nothing odd about his behaviour back then. There still wasn't, as Lord Fiske had always been remarkable at his ability to be carried away. On the other hand, there was something that Bates couldn't quite put his finger on that bothered him.

No, it wasn't Lord Fiske's behaviour, it was what he did. He was still mostly himself, smiling in ecstasy as he talked about his research and sulking to himself when something didn't go like he had planned, but his actions were different. Never before had he put anything before the museum, and never before had he avoided Bates's questions about his research and intentions like that.

But what could he do about it? Even if he disagreed with what Lord Fiske was doing, none of it was actually dangerous or wrong in any way, and he couldn't very well tell a grown man what to do with his life. All there was for him to do was to remember his place as a loyal servant and follow Lord Fiske, no matter what he decided to do.

After all, Bates mused as he sipped his tea, noblemen were known to get a little eccentric with age. Lord Fiske's fascination with the statues was relatively harmless compared to some of the stories he had heard of the family's past. It could have been a lot worse.