Define, Hell IV (or, Define, Hell, IIII): Changes, and Christmas

Disclaimer/Author's Notes: Kim Possible and all the characters of the show are owned by the Disney Company. All other characters can be blamed on the author (he, however, is not responsible for all of their actions at all times, being barely responsible for himself most of the time….).

This is a strictly not-for-profit, just-for-fun work.

This is not a part of the (shameless plug) Blue Eyes, Shining stories or the JadeKimVerse, but judging from the reviews of the original tale, I've been charged with showing the aftermath of Ron's actions and explaining Kim's behavior.

I hope that you enjoy this: you can blame Cindy for this story (yes, it's the same Cindy that sent me the ANC picture that spawned "Merry Christmas, Momma" and "Paint Me a Christmas Memory:" she's a closet Plot Bunny).

A/N Forward:

Questions:

What happens after Define, Hell III: The Sequel?

Answer:

It's a description of the wicked turn that took place as a result of the events of the Diablos night: they weren't what you remember from the show….

We have angst, we have fluff (and, there will be smuff), and we have…well, I'm not sure what you'll call it all, but it's here.

-----

(Previously, in Define, Hell III: The Sequel):

(Andrea Jocelyn Possible)

Ms. Director- no, she had told me to call her Betty- showed up one late spring Saturday day with a fishing pole and waders and Ron, and the three of us went fishing. We caught a mess of trout, and Ron cooked up a fabulous feast.

Kim arrived just as we sat down for dinner, as did Uncle James, Aunt Anne, and Jim and Tim.

I love those two guys: all full of energy, piss and vinegar, and almost as smart as me (LOL!). It was nice to talk to someone my age about particle physics theory and cars.

Unfortunately for me, they spent most of their time drooling over my picture of Jen and Becky and I at the swimming hole the past summer, back before everything happened.

"Joss, who are these cute girls standing in this picture with you?" Jim asked.

"Friends of mine, Jim."

I knew them apart, and that vexed them so.

"Would you be upset if we asked you to introduce us to them?"

"No big," I replied, and we all laughed.

(Kim Possible)

"Dad, what are you working on?"

Dad looked up, and my heart soared.

Daddy was smiling; no, he was beaming! He could have powered Middleton for 10 days with that smile.

"Well, you remember the Hephaestus project?" I grimaced.

"Well, you gave me an idea, and the boys told me about the call they got from Wade, so I started thinking: what if the Hephaestus material could interact with human nerve endings¸ and so I started on H2."

"O?" I asked, and Dad looked at me strangely, but then it clicked.

"It's not a watered-down version, Kimmie-cub," he grinned and, as Dad explained it to me, my face started from the simple smirk and grew, and grew, and grew, until I thought I was just a smile with some eyes attached.

I knew there were eyes attached: they were shedding tears of joy.

Daddy was on the case, and I knew we had Hope, once again.

-----

Next, on Define, Hell IV (or, Define, Hell, IIII): Changes, and Christmas:

Chapter 7: T.O.P.I.C (Tweebs on patrol, in control)

-----

(James Timothy Possible, Jr.)

Kim made it back from her run with Ron, after they shut down the Diablos in Middleton.

"Sis! You did it!" Tim ran up the stairs behind her as she went up in her prom dress.

"Sis, your dress…" Kim turned on the landing and looked down at Tim and me, him on the steps and me down below.

"I've got one more thing to do," she said with a more serious voice than she'd ever used on us when she was mad at us, and I pitied the fool that had made her mad.

"Drakken and Shego have my date, and I'm going to get him," she slammed the door shut.

"Hicka?" I asked, and Tim nodded as we went back to our room.

"Wade," Jim called on the voice-activated microphone connected to our computer, and Wade's room popped up.

It was a mess, and Wade was picking up a monitor and placing it on the bed. He turned when he heard Jim's voice.

"Hey, guys. Trouble at the Possible house?"

"Not anymore: we took care of the Diablos. You?"

"Just one, but it was in my room," and he adjusted the camera to point to the huge hole in his roof.

"OUCH!" We both grimaced at the hole.

"Indeed," Wade chuckled as he adjusted the camera back down. We heard a female voice call "Wade?" and a girl came into his room.

"Hey, Sarah." Jim called, but she ignored him.

"Wade, we've got everything else cleaned up and bagged and out to the trash. Did you finish the final test on the EMP gun?"

"One more, Sarah, and it'll be as ready as it can be," he replied and pointed it at the hole and fired. A beam shot out, and the air fried around it.

"Ready," he smiled. "Thanks, Sarah," he held out his hands as she stepped into him and hugged him, kissing his forehead.

"You rock, Wade: Kim will be as well armed as 'possible,'" she grinned, "especially with the supersuit. She should be good to go."

Wade reached down and pulled out one of Kim's backpacks, dropping the EMP gun into it and spare supplies: laser lipstick, extra hair dryer grappler, lip gloss knockout gas, the works. He closed the bag with a snap.

A sound from outside, and Tim jumped up and ran out, yelling "She's out!"

"She's coming down, Wade: get back to you after she leaves," I jumped out of my seat and ran out of our room and stopped dead in my tracks.

Kim was standing at the bottom of the stairs, and she was wearing the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen: a blue and white suit that just screamed mayhem. She capped it all off with her red hair and emerald eyes. The best part: Sis filled that suit oh so well, and it fit in all the right places.

Yes, she's my sister, but she's a very, very pretty girl: I knew what this suit was going to do to Ron.

"Sis," Tim stepped forward and held his arms out; Kim looked suspicious.

"No tricks: Good luck, Sis," he wiggled his arms, and she stepped into his arms and hugged him.

"Me too, Sis: Good luck," I got my hug when Tim let her go, and there was water on Kim's face.

"Tweebs…you guys…thanks for the rockets, everything," and she headed down the stairs to the living room.

"Kick their asses, Sis!" I yelled, and I didn't care when Mom yelled:

"JIM!"

"On her way, Wade," I called as I went back into the room.

A minute later, Tim came in with a big grin.

"What'd I miss?"

"Ron creating a drool pool: he likes the suit," Tim laughed.

"Gee, I wonder why?" Sarah asked sarcastically, and we all laughed.

"OK guy, I'll talk to you after the mission; gotta get ready for Kim and Ron," and Wade smiled and waved as he logged off.

I never dreamed of the nightmare that was coming, or that I'd never see Wade smile like that for a long, long time.

-----

(Timothy James Possible)

"TIM!" Jim yells like that, something's very wrong.

I ran up the stairs to our room, and he was pointing at the streaming picture on our monitor:

Diablos, big ones, flying in formation: over the Washington Monument, the White House, the United Nations building, the Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, the Taj Majal, the Pyramids, the Sydney Opera House.

I stood there, staring at the pictures as they flashed across the screen, scared out of my pants, and then-

They all appeared to freeze in mid-flight, and they began to shrink and fall as Jim and I yelled

"GO, SIS!"

They fell to the ground, and there were no sounds from the monitor.

The 'casters were all in shock.

Then, cheers could be heard coming from afar, and the camera began to zoom in on pockets of people, kicking and stomping on the Diablos. A camera zoomed in on a little girl, no more than five, who stepped on three of them, crushing them as best she could. She picked up one remaining Diablo, still intact, and put it in her pack, then hoisted the pack to her back and ran after her mother.

"HICKA-BICKA-BOO?"

"HO-SHA!"

We were so excited; we both ran downstairs and hugged a very shocked Mom and Dad.

"Don't get me wrong, Tim, but what was that for?" Mom looked down at him with a smile.

"Kim and Ron and Wade did it!

"They beat Drakken and Shego!"

"Did you ever doubt they would, son?" Dad looked harried but calm. Neither of us knew what he'd been thinking.

"Boys, I think you need to hit the sack. We've got work to do on the house in the morning," Dad pointed at the tarpaulin-covered holes in the roof and the plywood-covered holes in the walls.

"Dad, we're too stoked: can we stay up at least until Sis gets home?"

"Well," he started to say 'no,' but Mom gave him the 'Pout. "All right, but no experiments in your room with any more rocket fuel, all right?" He laughed. "Drakken already did more damage to the house than you two ever did in one shot."

"And, Jim, Tim: no, that's not a challenge to top him, either," and we both groaned: we had had an idea or three….

-----

Jim heard her come in about an hour later, and we ran out to see her after she began to come down the stairs from her room. We thought she was going to grab something to eat, but she'd gotten dressed again and was carrying her bag.

She looked like a Mousey Fairy Princess in that blue dress, even with the black singes on the bottom, and her smile was platinum.

"Sis, you ROCK!" we both yelled, and we ran up to her and stopped suddenly.

"Why'd you stop?" she stared at us.

"We didn't want to mess up your dress for Eric," she scrunched her face.

"Synthodrone," she said with a growl. "I'm going to the prom with Ron," she smiled dreamily.

"YES!"

"Why are you two so happy?"

"We like Ron, and we didn't trust Eric," she smiled and held out her arms, and we ran into her. She doled out a double order of Sister Cooties for free, and she Grande-sized the order.

We didn't care, though: Ron was a good guy, and Rufus was way cool: he had a wicked sense of humor for a Naked Mole Rat.

She kissed our foreheads, and she stepped down the stairs to the living room. We stuck our heads down there, and we saw Ron in his blue tux, smiling to light up all of Colorado.

"Our work is done," Tim grinned, and we headed to bed, tired and exhausted.

Our last, normal, night's sleep, but we didn't know it at the time.

-----

(James Timothy Possible, Jr.)

My dreams seemed to be trying to tell me that things weren't right:

Kim was crying inconsolably, and Ron looked sad as he stood and wrapped his arms around her.

Mom was barely holding it together, and Dad looked horrible, like he'd been crying for days.

Joss was sitting, facing away from us, and she was covered in blankets while she sat in a chair.

Wade was standing, but he was also facing away from us.

Tim was with me, and he looked as confused as I.

Sarah walked up to us, knelt down, and smiled at us both.

"Guys," she said, "We're gonna need your help."

"Yea, guys," Monique came up, and she was wearing a copy of Sis' mission outfit.

I looked at Sarah: she looked like she was ready for bear. She wore what was obviously a mission outfit, but it didn't look like Kim's.

I looked down: I was wearing our dream-designed mission outfit. I glanced at Jim, and he wore the same thing, down to the wrist-grapplers we'd been working with Wade on to replace Kim's hair-dryer grappler: besides, we always thought that Ron looked silly carrying that hair dryer.

"We're ready, Mon, but what about Kim and Ron and Wade?"

"They're down for a bit, guys, but 'they'll be back,'" Sarah did a bad 'Governator' impression, and Monique laughed as she wrapped her arm around Sarah's shoulder.

"Mom and Dad?"

"They'll be ok, but they need to stay here.

"Are you up to it?" Sarah asked with a smile, and she fluttered her eyelashes.

"Something in your eye, Sarah?" Tim asked, and Monique laughed and held out her hand. Sarah sighed, reached into her pocket, and pulled out a ten-dollar bill, handing it to Monique. She slid it into a pocket I didn't think could exist in those pants she wore.

"Are you ready?" Sarah asked, and this time here eyelashes stayed still.

"Well, as Ron would say, ladies," Tim began,

"We've got your backs, and such lovely ones they are, too," I finished, and Monique chuckled and Sarah blushed.

Monique put her hand in, then I put mine on top of hers (wow, that feels good…so soft), then Sarah put hers on mine (even better) and grinned, and Jim's hand topped the stack.

"For all those who didn't make it," Sarah simply said, and I looked at her as she spoke: there were tears on her face.

"Thanks, guys," a young redhead, about Sis' age, came up to us and put her hand on top of ours and smiled big. "You're gonna do all right," she hugged Sarah and a shocked Monique, then leaned over and kissed Tim, leaving a nice lipstick kiss on his cheek. She turned and leaned over and kissed my cheek, and I reached my hand up to touch my cheek when she stepped away with a big smile.

There was red lipstick on it.

"Jim," she said, and she began to fade away.

"Jim," Tim called, and I turned as he faded out.

"Jim," the voice wasn't his.

I opened my eyes, and there was Mom, looking down on me, and I never want to see that look, ever, ever again: she was, literally, filled to overflowing with sadness and grief.

I realized that Tim was sitting on the edge of my bed, in his pajamas, and he looked like he just got up.

"Is Dad ready to start on the house?" I asked, and Mom started to cry.

We couldn't help it: we grabbed her and hugged her, and her dam burst on our shoulders, and we had no idea why. She soaked my pajama shoulder.

"Boys, your Dad had to leave this morning for Montana," and we snapped up.

"His brother died last night," she simply stated, and we sat like twin deer in headlights.

"Joss is in surgery," she added, and I asked first.

"Were they in a wreck?" and Mom shook her head no.

"They were attacked in their house, boys."

"Who would do that? Who could do that?" Tim asked.

"Diablos," Mom said one word, and our worlds shattered.

This had never happened before. No one had died from one of Sis' missions.

"He attacked their house to try to kill both of them and your Dad's two college friends at their homes, but the Diablos didn't get to them. We stopped the ones sent to stop your father and sister," Mom smiled through her tears, "but Slim and Joss didn't get them all," she lowered her face, and I saw tears fall from her eyes.

"Who else?' Tim whispered.

She looked up and pointed to the picture I loved in our room.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Wade's Mom?" she nodded, and Tim burst into tears: he caught it before me.

"What about-" Mom shook her head, and I understood what Tim had already caught.

I couldn't ask.

I was scared out of my life.

"Wade?" Tim asked, with a voice of a four-year-old looking for his lost friend in a huge store.

"He's alive," and we both started to breathe again, "but, he's in surgery, too," the grenades kept landing, and we couldn't pick them up and toss them fast enough.

"What?" I asked.

"They took his eyes, Jim," and I lost it.

"I'M KILLING THEM BOTH!"

"James Timothy Possible, Jr.! You will do NO SUCH THING!" Mom went commando on us, and I'd never heard that voice before: I was scared and excited at the same time.

"I already told your dad he couldn't, so you don't get permission, either."

"What about Joss?" Tim asked.

"She may lose a leg, Tim," and that was it.

We all broke down and cried, tears and pain being emptied from deep within our souls.

Something hit me, I don't know what, but I suddenly had a strength I never knew I had, and I looked up at Tim. He had the same look, and we nodded at each other.

"Mom, have you had any sleep?" Tim asked.

"A couple of hours; why?"

"You need to sleep, just like you told us, last night.

"Where's Sis?"

"She's asleep; Ron's in there, holding her. I hope he's sleeping, as well."

"Good," I said and stood, taking Mom's hand and guiding her to stand.

"You need sleep, and Tim and I have work to do," I reminded her. She looked puzzled.

"The house has holes in the roof and sides, and neither you nor Dad can do anything about it, now.

"Besides," Tim added with a grin, "it's not like we haven't had any experience patching the house," he smiled, and Mom smiled for the first time.

"Now, scoot, little missy," I pushed her out of our room, but she stopped and turned around.

'Oh, snap,' I thought, but she surprised me:

She leaned over and kissed my cheek, then did the same to Tim.

"My guys: I think I'll keep you," she blew us a kiss and closed the door.

"What just happened, Tim?"

"I think Mom just figured out that we grew up this morning," he said, and he showed me his hand from where he'd touched his cheek:

A red lipstick kiss.

I reached up and touched my cheek, and drew back my hand:

Same thing.

"Let's get dressed: at least rain's not forecast until next weekend," I laughed as I beat him into the bathroom and locked the door.

-----

(Timothy James Possible)

We finished the roof repairs, and we were almost finished with the walls when Dad came home three days later, in the evening. He stepped out of the cab with his suitcase and briefcase and set his suitcase down as if it was the heaviest thing in the world.

"DAD!" I climbed down off the ladder and ran to him as I slipped my hammer in my tool belt.

Dad looked like he'd gone 20 rounds with Mr. Sitdown.

"Tim," he smiled, and he opened his arms after dropping his briefcase. I ran into him and was slammed from behind by Jim as he yelled "DADDY!"

"How's Joss, Dad?" I looked up, and his moist eyes tried to smile.

"She's alive, Tim, and that's what's important," he started, and I knew that it was worse that Mom had told us.

"Did she lose her leg, Dad?"

He nodded, "and an arm, as well," he added, and I froze in shock: I couldn't imagine my flying redheaded cousin with only one natural leg, and the thought of her without an arm, as well, hit me hard.

"Mom came up; she's leaving 'Chez Leisure' and moving back to Montana to be with Joss," he told us. "I told Mom that we would welcome Joss with no question, but she shook her head. 'Andrea deserves to grow up where she has lived most of her life,' she told me. 'Besides, Slim's 'ranch hands' have already repaired the house and started the upgrades to make it handicapped-accessible, including a way for Joss to get to her loft bedroom without help while she's in a wheelchair until she gets her new leg and arm,' she smiled.

"'They called me before the police did, James,' she told me, 'and they had already stabilized her before the ambulance came. They told me that they weren't leaving Joss alone, even if I threw them out:

"'Slim and Joss are family,' one young lady told me when I got thee, and she had tears pouring from her face, 'and we don't abandon family, especially with as much as he's done for us,'" she announced, and there was a chorus from behind her.

"Mom told them that she was moving to the ranch, and they asked her if she wanted anything special done before she moved in," Dad squeezed Jim and I. "Boys, that's what your uncle did: he didn't just train young scientists and engineers, he raised a large extended family.

"I went out to the ranch," Dad let us go and picked up his briefcase while James grabbed his suitcase, "and they had finished everything in two days. The front doors had been changed out to wider doors, and handicapped bars were installed in all the bathrooms. They had received a wheelchair stairwell lift, and they were uncrating it to install so Joss could get to her loft bedroom.

"It looks like you two have been busy here, yourselves," Dad smiled, and I'd never felt better in my life. "Good work, boys," he grinned and stuck out his hand to shake. We each shook his hand, and we got hugs from him as well. "Your Mom told me how helpful you to have been and how you've let Kim work through her feelings: Thank you, Jim, Tim."

"James," Mom called from the porch, and Dad ran into her arms.

We grabbed Dad's stuff and left them alone on the porch as he told her how Nana and Joss were doing and the current tentative plans for Uncle Slim's funeral.

Funeral…Uncle Slim…that ain't right.

-----

(James Timothy Possible, Jr.)

After dinner and some TVTrashHeap, Tim and I went back to our room before the nightly news came on at 11.

Tim closed the door, and our monitor popped on.

"Hey, guys," came from the monitor, and there was Wade's face, smiling as always.

"Wade?" I must have looked stupid, standing there, talking to my computer…but

"You're in the hospital." I sat down on my bed, hard.

"No, I'm not," he said, and my mouth must have been 15-feet wide open, "then again, guys, I'm not Wade," he said, leaning back in his chair, nibbling on a business end of a Slurpster bendy-straw.

"Then, who the hell are you?" I asked. "Clone?" and I looked around for some carbonation.

"Chill, Jim: no clone, here, just an avatar Wade created. I'm Wade-A, by the way. Wade-B's in the WadeBot 2.3 that's here at the lab."

"What lab?"

"Where I am, Jim," he jammed the straw back into the drink cup and took a big drink, then frowned "Oooo, brain freeze," he held his forehead for a second, then scrunched his face and went back to a normal look.

"Something must have happened to Wade, and I just woke up…scanning the reports…Oh, this is not good, guys."

"Well, D'oi, Wade-A," Tim snarked.

"Wade's down, and my parents are gone," he actually was shedding tears, "but I'll make the time to mourn later: I've got to get ready for you two."

"Ready for what?"

"For you to come and visit, of course," he smiled. "I haven't had any visitors since Wade was here last, setting me up two years ago, I need to make sure the fridge is stocked before you get here," he winked, and I laughed along with Tim.

"Besides, Kim doesn't seem all right, and that'll leave Ron doing missions by himself. You ready, at least for some little ones? Ron and others can do the rest," he explained.

"Us? On missions?" Tim's voice went up as he spoke. We hadn't gone on one with Kim since she was chipped.

"Yeah, but I need you more for site work, guys: Wade trusts you, and he's sure you can cover for him while he's out." Wade trusts us?

"Kim recommended you, too," and now we were both shocked: Sis, who harassed us at every step, recommended us? Of course, we did the same, but…Sis recommended us?

That made it simple.

"We'll come over tomorrow," and Wade keyed in something.

"Good: I'll get you a set of controls for the tubes so you can get here without a car and without being followed. Wade was right: you two rock," and Wade-A shut down the connection, and the monitor clicked off.

-----

The next day, we went to the spot in the yard where we'd seen Kim stand when the GJ tube opened up, and stood for a few seconds before the ground gave way.

We shot through the tubes for several minutes, and I was glad I hadn't eaten yet that day.

We popped up inside a tiny room, and the light popped on. A light beam directed us to the door. Optic, palm, voice-print, and biometric scanners: yep, it was Wade.

We cleared security, and the door slid into the floor and revealed a dark room. When we stepped through the door, the door closed and lights popped on. There was a one-way booth in front of us, and the light directed us into it. We walked in, and the door closed behind us.

Wade-A popped in front of us, holding a Naco.

"Hey, guys: glad you could make it." He bit into the Naco and grinned.

"OK, Wade-A, what's with all this?"

"Since you're gonna be sitting in for Wade sometimes, you need to see and hear this," he said. "Grab a seat: this is likely gonna take awhile, and a holographic chair appeared; he sat, and motioned to us to sit.

"They're not holo-chairs, are they?" I asked, and Wade-A grinned.

"No, Jim, but that's an idea," he winked.

We sat, and the booth lights dropped so we could see out into the room. There were some chairs around a table directly in front of the window, about four feet back from the window.

The door opened, and Monique came in, looking around, looking like she'd just had her first ride in the tubes.

Ron appeared right behind her, and she looked at him questioningly: he pointed to a chair, and she sat, he took the chair next to her.

"How's Kim, Ron?"

"Not good, Mon. She's still hurting bad. I can't get through to her. She went to see Wade, and she was there when he woke up the first time," he stopped, the started again, "but she hasn't been back since."

The door opened again, and an auburn-brown-haired girl came in, looking confident and confused at the same time. Sarah. She looked like she could work out with Sis, and they'd both work up a sweat, kinda like Sis did with Nana last summer.

"Sarah!" Ron stood and walked over to her, holding out his arms. She ran into them, and they hugged for at least a minute. She separated and walked over to Monique, doing the same thing for Monique that Ron had done for her, and Monique stood and fell into her arms, the two ladies hugging and shedding tears.

Sarah and Monique sat at the table and looked at Ron.

"So, Ron, why are we here?" Sarah asked.

"I asked him to get you to come, Sarah," Wade-A appeared on the screen on the wall, and Sarah and Monique both gasped.

"I couldn't ask you; you wouldn't have believed it was me if I'd called or sent an e-mail, would you?" Wade-A grinned.

"It's not me, actually: I'm Wade's Avatar, Wade-A: he created me in case something went wrong and he was out for awhile.

"By the way, Sarah: thanks for saving Lucky," and Sarah looked up in surprise. "I saw the video, and I know what you did for me, and for Kim. Thanks, from both of us.

"Monique," her head looked at the screen, "I asked you to come for two reasons:

"One, because I need your help; and

"Two: because Wade likes looking at you," and Monique blushed as Ron and Sarah both laughed. "He thinks you're very pretty, and I have to concur in his assessment…but, that's not important; well, for this anyway," Wade-A chuckled.

Wade-A was bad.

"You've been with Kim on a mission before, and Ron and Sarah are going to need some help with some of the ones that they take: Global Justice will take the major calls, but I don't anticipate many missions for you three since Drakken and Shego are in custody. The villains have all gone underground, trying to hide because they saw what Kim did to Shego.

"Wade, you've got me mistaken for someone else: I'm no freak-fighter," Sarah complained, and Wade-A laughed.

"Sarah: next-door neighbor, remember? I know you earned your second-degree black belt three months ago, and I know about the markswoman awards, too. I know you and Kim have talked about you joining Team Possible, but you've declined every time in the last six months.

"Well, now, Sarah, I'm asking: will you help, 'Big Sis?'" Wade-A asked, and Sarah looked at him strangely for several seconds.

She shook her head once, then again, then nodded and turned to Ron. "You're in charge, right? Not me?"

"It's my party, Sarah," and she stood, walked over to him, and pulled him up, hugging him.

She stuck her hand out, palm down.

"For Kim and Wade, Rachel and Ryan," she said.

"For Slim and Joss," Ron added, placing his hand on hers.

"For those who didn't make it," Monique stood and placed her hand on theirs, drawing a smile from both of them.

"Hey: Kim's my BFGF. Anything I can do to help, I'm in, even if I'm scared out of my pants," Monique added, then looked at the monitor.

"And, not EVEN in your dreams, Wade-A!" She made sure he knew, and Wade-A gulped while Sarah and Ron laughed.

"Come on, Monique: I've got some ideas for your 'mission togs' that I think you'll like: no open midriff, but you'll get the attention and it'll protect you at the same time.

"WFM," Monique replied, and Sarah cocked an eyebrow.

"'Works for me,'" she grinned. "You'll learn Mon-speak: no big," she added as they left the room and the door rose.

"All right, Wade-A?"

"It's good, Ron," Wade-A replied.

"You good to go, Jim, Tim?"

How did he know we were there?

"It's all right, guys, you can come out. I set this up with Wade-A after he called me the morning before he called you that evening," we walked out of the room as the holo-Wade blinked away after waving to us.

Ron hugged us both.

"I knew you would do it," he said when he let us go, and his face was wet. "You're just like your sister in lots of ways; well, trust me, not every way," he laughed with us.

"KP's gonna need some time before she gets back in the saddle, guys, and I don't want her to worry about the freaks while she's getting through this. I wouldn't ask you, knowing what happened to Slim and Joss, but-"

"No big, Ron," Tim cut him off. "It'll be good for me, I know: take some of this off my mind," he looked and me, and I nodded.

"Operation TOPIC is officially on," I grinned at Tim, and we high-fived.

"TOPIC?" Ron asked.

"'T. O. P.I. C., Ron: Tweebs on Patrol, in Control,'" Tim answered as the holo-Wade popped back in, and he, Wade-A, and Ron all laughed.

"We'll be Wade-A's Wizards, just not from Oz," I said, and Wade-A replied:

"Wizards, huh? Without the white sheets, I trust," and Ron laughed so hard that he fell out of his chair.

-----

(Timothy James Possible)

Ron came over the next day; he told us to meet him at the site, because Sarah and Monique had something to show us.

I made it, and Jim had to stay at the house for something, I don't even remember what or why.

Ron came in. I told him that Jim wasn't here.

"You want to turn the cameras on for this, record it, and get Jim to turn his monitor on for this," Ron grinned.

A minute later, Sarah and Monique came in.

I needed a mop for Ron and a mop for me: I know Jim needed one, also: that was the only way I knew of, short of a wet vacuum, to clean up that much drool..

Sarah and Monique were in their mission outfits, if you could call them that. I would think of them as female predatory tools, devices designed to capture all men.

Sarah's top was a navy blue fitted full length polo shirt with sleeves that reached barely below the elbows. Jade slashes were printed across the front, purely for emphasis her top was fitted to show off her features for distraction purposes. It gave the appearance that she was ready for anything, but mainly it was the fact that she liked to tease because, for her, it was just plain fun.

Monique's was designed the same way, but it was a dark green, showing everything off on her, as well. She had jet-black slashes across her front.

They were going to drive the henchmen crazy and Shego, if she'd been out, would have been supremely hacked off that she didn't look this good.

The outfits continued as Sarah wore dark grey and Monique wore dark brown form-fitting slacks with a small side pouch on the lower right-hand leg. Black form-fitting, ankle high, soft leather boots with good ankle support covered their feet. Their boots contained a composite fire and impact resistant polymer: I knew, because In recognized the boots from the new ones that Kim and Ron were getting..

On Sarah's belt were twin EMP stun guns; the guns rode above her waist and over the shirt. There were also two, four clip ammunition holders on her belts front that brought the stun guns together in an intimidating array of weaponry. Sarah's Kimmunicator was on the right rear side in the black belt-case holder which was covered. A quick release snap gave her instant access to her devise.

Monique had a different belt: hers had Billy clubs on each side rather than Sarah's stun guns, but she also had a couple of ammo clips. Her Kimmunicator was on the right rear side in the black belt-case holder, as well, mounted the same way

Monique took one of her clubs out and twirled it. "Wanna test me out, Ron?" she purred, and Sarah shook her head no, no, no.

"I'll trust you, Mon.

"You ladies make those outfits look good," he smiled.

"Besides the built-in distractions," he added, and they both blushed and laughed.

"Just because we're fighting freaks doesn't mean we can't be comfortable," Sarah replied, and Ron grinned.

"Comfort is one thing, Sarah: causing drool pools is another sitch, entirely," Ron replied, and Monique chuckled.

"Kim's got to get outfits like these," he added.

"She should," Sarah said. "Our tops cover a thin fitted Kevlar-weave-based protection; that'll stop a knife penetration or small arms fire. The stun guns are EMP34 series (9 mm caliber size) which could fire metallic barbs or copper tipped darts. You do not want to be on the receiving end as a few thousands of volts comes with them.

"And, add these," and Ron tossed two boxes to the ladies. They opened them and squealed.

"Wade was working on these," Wade-A grinned, "to replace the hair-dryer grappler. Wrist-clip units that are sturdier and twice as long as the hair-dryer grappler."

"Spanking," Sarah grinned as she fired hers into the ceiling and rose twenty feet into the air.

"Release?"

"Flex your wrist twice," and she did, falling straight down as the line automatically retracted, and she tucked and rolled as she landed, coming up in a pose that would have made Sis proud.

"No cheer training?" Monique asked, and Sarah grinned.

"Tried our in seventh grade: broke my arm, and that was it. Always wanted to, though," Sarah replied, looking at the wrist grappler.

"Thanks, Wade-A."

"You're quite welcome, ladies. Now, if you could do me one more favor…"

"What's that, Wade-A?"

"Next time you change, bring a camera, please and thank you," and Sarah sputtered while Monique laughed.

"Wrong idea, baby boy," Monique replied. "Still, can't blame you for trying, though."

"Why shouldn't I try? I'm 13 and an Avatar, not dead, and I tried to convince Wade I needed a woman in here with me, but he just laughed.

"'Not until I get one, Wade-A.' he told me: how unfair is that, just because he can't get lucky?"

"He did get Lucky, Wade-A," Sarah grinned, and Wade-A grabbed his chest in shock. "He's swimming in the fish tank in my room right now," and Ron and Monique both laughed loud and long as Wade-A realized he'd met his match.

Sarah looked at Monique, who nodded silently. "We're ready," Sarah announced, and Ron smiled.

"Good, because I have a mission for you," Wade-A announced.

"Burglars at Middleton Town North Bank, three blocks away from here," Sarah and Monique looked at each other and grinned.

"We're gone, Charlie," Monique laughed.

Sarah laughed at Monique's response, and the two ladies shot out of the room.

They took out five bandits, no casualties, and no one lost their pants. Ron was disappointed about that last past.

-----

(James Timothy Possible, Jr.)

We sat in the background for the most part, going on a couple of missions when Monique and Ron were otherwise occupied. We were able to identify one super-villain-wannabe, an ex-heiress named Camille Leon who had tried to steal stuff by shape-shifting: we'd read the comics, and she made the mistake of trying to mimic Sarah. She missed on some details that we knew that didn't show up until Camille and Sarah showed up in the same room, both wearing sandals: the toes gave Camille away, and we caught her, easily.

It was good that the rest of the villains had all remained undercover: we weren't perfect, but we were on the ball, and we got the job done.

While all of this was happening, we had the real world to deal with.

We went to Rachel and Ryan's funeral, and we were both on our best behavior: Dr. Rachel and Dr. Ryan were good people, nice to both of us whenever we came over to see Wade.

Even worse: Wade couldn't even come to his parents' funeral: he was still in a coma. We videoed it just in case something happened. We knew he could listen to it later, at least.

That was tough, but flying to Montana the next day was even worse.

Joss was out of the hospital for the services, and they were allowing her to fly to DC, but only if a nurse accompanied her.

I saw her, sitting at the ranch in the living room, all alone, just staring at the picture of her parents back on the wall, both of them now gone, and I wanted to kill Drakken, all by myself, with my bare hands.

"Cuz?" I called, and she turned her chair.

I almost cried.

"Jim." Her voice was weak, and her body was almost covered in blankets: her lower body was draped in a throw, and her upper body was wrapped, as well. She held out her hand, and I stepped over to her and knelt, taking her hand and kissing it.

"You're my hero, Joss," I said with conviction, and then I reached up and hugged her.

"You are," I repeated as she shook her head No, No, No. "You fought them with a baseball bat."

"Softball bat, actually," she corrected me as she continued to wet my shirt with her tears.

"Uncle Slim would be proud of you, and Aunt Sheri is, too," I told her, and she shook more as we both wept for our losses.

"How's Cousin Kim, Jim?" She looked up, her ice-blue eyes blue now with tears.

"She's taking it hard, Joss," I told her. "She blames herself for Uncle Slim and you."

"SNAKE MUFFINS!" she yelled, and I stood up.

"Git her in here, NOW!" she ordered, and I saluted and ran to get Kim, but she and Nana had left for an errand.

"I'll tell her myself, later, then," she said when I came back.

"This is all that idiot Drakken's fault: she had nothing to do with it, and neither did your Dad," now, she surprised me: she knew about Dad's project.

"Daddy and I both knew about Uncle James' 'Hephaestus' project, and we heard about Drakken kidnapping him. Daddy expected that there was some reason that Drakken went after him, and when the first Diablo started to grow in the house, he said, 'That Drakken fellow done got a-hold of Slick's tech,'" Joss grinned, "Well, that's what he said after he let loose a string of curse words that would make his sailor friends blush," she giggled, then lost her smile.

"Jim, I miss my Daddy," and I grabbed her again as she burst into tears.

"Can you and Tim come back up here more often, like this Thanksgiving or Christmas?"

"Joss, for my hero, anything," I kissed her cheek, kissing away a tear. "'Seriously,'" I did my best 'Motor Ed,' and she laughed.

"You wanna see my new elevator?" She grinned, and I nodded. She rolled herself over to the stairs to her loft, and she backed into a platform that was hooked to a guide that ran up the sidewall of the stairs. She locked the wheels and hit a button, and she rose slowly up the stairs towards her room.

"Ain't this neat?" she called as I stepped up the stairs, and we reached the top at the same time.

She was so happy, she forgot to hide her Wade posters.

Cousin Joss likes Wade.

Tim needs to know this, and we've got work to do: T.O.P.I.C. now has a second, even more important mission: get Wade and Joss together.

That was a lot easier after Christmas, when we came back up, and we met Jennifer and Becky, our soul mates for life.

-----

At Thanksgiving, we'd come up for the day, and Tim and I went up to Joss' room with her to talk and horse around.

Unfortunately for Joss, we spent most of our time drooling over her picture of two gorgeous girls in swim suits with Joss at the swimming hole on the Ranch, this past summer.

"Joss, who are these cute girls standing in this picture with you?" I asked.

"Friends of mine, Jim."

She knew us apart; it still drove me crazy that she could do that..

"Would you be upset if we asked you to introduce us to them?"

"No big," she replied, and we all laughed.

-----

At Christmas, she told us to come upstairs with her.

The picture was still there, and Tim had to remind her

"Will you introduce us, Joss? Please?" Tim was such a suck-up, but he was good at it, and Joss grinned and nodded, and there was a rapping behind us.

"Merry Christmas, guys," she whispered with a grin, and-

"Come on up, Jen, Becky," and Tim and I turned-

and we saw Paradise, rising, from the floor that was the entry to Joss' loft bedroom.

I wanted to look, even glance, at Tim, but I was fixed on the vision in the tanned skirt and white hose and tall boots (sue me, I've always been a leg man: comes from being around a sister that keeps bringing cheerleaders to the house to practice).

"Jennifer, this is Jim Possible, my cousin. Jim, this is Jennifer Battle, my friend," Joss introduced us, and I was trying desperately not to drool.

Jennifer wore a simple tanned skirt and white hose, and her blouse…that blouse was the material that my dreams were made of: a soft, silky material that clung to every portion of her body and showed the temperature, both outside and of her heart.

Oh, yeah, she was happy to see me, too, and I knew I was happy, but just hoped I wasn't showing it.

She was about my height, bigger than Kim and Joss but not at all unattractive, a vision in her long, brown hair and her full, beautiful figure.

Simply put:

She was drop-dead gorgeous, and she had smiled at me.

"Jim?" I looked up, blushing.

"Eyes up here, buster," and she lifted my head from its watching position by gently cupping my chin.

I smiled as I remained red-faced.

'Shame on you, Jim,' I thought, and I grinned inside

Her hand was so warm, and her smile was even warmer.

'I wonder what else is warm…BAD JIM!'

I'd sell all my J2000 rocket fuel just for one of her smiles, and she gave me another one, for free.

Don't pass out, Jim: that's not a good thing.

I finally managed to glance over at Tim, and I had missed his entire introduction to Becky Barlow, but he was in the same condition that I was:

500 per cent in love, and it hurt so, so good.

I was gone, completely over the love cliff, free-falling, and I didn't care who knew it.

I was definitely in love, and so was Tim: both Possible men were hit by Cupid at the same time, and to cousin Joss's friends.

We had another good reason to come to Montana from now on, besides visiting Joss and Nana.

-----

(Timothy James Possible)

"Will you introduce us, Joss? Please?" Jim let me beg because I was the better manipulator, and Joss grinned and nodded, and there was a rapping behind us.

"Merry Christmas, guys," she whispered with a grin, and-

"Come on up, Jen, Becky," and Jim and I turned-

and we saw Paradise, rising, from the floor that was the entry to Joss' loft bedroom.

The first thing that I remembered thinking when I saw her was: 'It's Bonnie Rockwaller, with no attitude and long, luscious, full black hair and a smile that could melt every glacier in Alberta.'

The navy-blue slacks that she wore had to have been painted onto her, because I had no idea how she could have ever gotten those gorgeous hips into that tight a pair of pants. The red sweater was collared by a white shirt, and the sleeves stuck out the ends. I wanted desperately to transform myself into that white shirt, if only for a moment, just to get closer to her….

Her dark, sexy heels peeked from underneath her pants. My eyes lit up when I saw the heels: I loved a woman who looked like a woman and wasn't ashamed of it or afraid to show it.

She wasn't big, but she wasn't small, either:

She was perfect.

Her tanned skin – no, it wasn't a tan, she must be Native American, somewhere in her ancestry – her skin was perfect, and her smile could have blinded me.

This was perfection in Montana.

She was about two inches taller than me, but she was in heels, and her dark eyes bore into my soul, ripped it out, examined it, and judged me worthy to gaze upon perfection for a few more minutes.

Simply put:

She was gorgeous, and she smiled at me.

She looked at my hands and grinned, and I wondered why.

I was gone, and I didn't care who knew it.

"Becky, this is Tim Possible, my cousin. Tim, this is Rebecca Whitecloud Barlow, my friend," Joss introduced us, and I was trying so very desperately not to pass out.

"Hello, Tim," she spoke, and he smiled even more. Whitecloud…I'd make a guess and hope my US history was right.

"Hello, Becky," she put out her hand, and I extended mine. I took her hand, bent over it, and kissed it.

'Don't pass out, Tim.' I smiled as I lifted my face to meet her smile with one of my own.

"Cherokee, correct?" and she lit up outside like a Broadway marquee.

I'm guessing that no one our age had ever recognized her heritage.

Bingo!

I'd sell all of Jim's J2000 rocket fuel just for one of her smiles, and she gave me another one, for free.

Don't drool, Tim: it's not cool.

'I wonder what else is warm…BAD TIM!'

I finally managed to glance over at Jim, and I had missed his entire introduction to Jennifer Battle, but he was in the same condition that I was:

I was certain that I'd found my soul mate, regardless of Animology, and it felt way better than the first time we hacked into Kim's diary.

I was definitely in love, and so was Jim: both Possible men were slammed by the Love Bug, and to cousin Joss's friends, at that.

We had real good reasons to come to Montana from now on.

-----

(James Timothy Possible, Jr.)

Tim and I did a divide-and-conquer.

I concentrated on Wade, and he concentrated on Joss.

There were common issues, but Dad was working on H2, so those were covered.

We didn't tell anyone the entire story, both sitches:

The best thing about working with my brother:

The amount of havoc we could raise: for, example, when we met Dr. Vivian Francis Porter for the first time: YOWSAH!

We thought that Dr. V. Francis Porter was a guy: we were a bit off on that one.

We were sitting in her office, waiting, when the door opened.

I would have sworn, in front of every Justice of the US Supreme Court, that I heard 1920s-style Speakeasy music when she walked in the room, a wailing tenor saxophone and a laid-back trumpet player using a Harmon mute, full stem. I would have sworn I could see the cigarette smoke in the air, the room choked with it.

Those legs, covered in silk stocking, came in on spike heels, and the skirt made sure we knew it was stockings.

Her beauty led her in, and that mass of beautiful silky blond hair framed those beautiful baby-blues…

'Lucky for us, Dad was married to Mom, or we'd never see him at home,' was the first thing I thought when I saw the face attached to that goddess.

She stood, smiling, and opened her mouth.

"Hello, boys," and it was music to my ears. That low, sultry voice was the sound of dreams that made me change sheets in the morning.

Tim beat me to it, though.

He stood up, let out a classic TVTrashHeap cartoon wolf whistle, and introduced himself:

"HELLLLOOOOOO, NURSE!"

That, in hindsight, was probably not the best way to introduce ourselves, especially when Oliver came in behind her.

He didn't look happy. He looked like Mr. Sitdown on steroids, and we found out later that he felt like it, too.

Dr. Porter just stared for a moment at the two of us, and then she smiled.

"It's Doctor, not nurse," she waved Oliver around her.

We were in deep kimchee.

"Oliver?"

"Yes, Doctor Porter?" he was grinning that look that said 'Pain for two? Right this way.'

"No problem with these two, Oliver…yet," and he looked upset that he wouldn't get to kill us. "Only because you two are James' sons, and you have the cajones to come into my office and ask to meet with me, especially when you're not even old enough to drive.

"You've got 10 minutes, boys, to convince me that I shouldn't have Oliver feed you to the anti-matter generator," she smiled as she sat, crossing those legs and draining blood from my brain for a moment.

"Wade Load, and Jocelyn Possible," Tim said, and she leaned forward.

"That's not fair," I spoke up for the first time.

"What's not fair, James Jr.?" She could tell us apart, and we've never met her before.

"That you are a goddess, and we are but two poor mortals, destined to worship at the feet of your knowledge and beauty," and she stared for a few moments: the silence was murder.

Then she broke into a hearty laugh, and even her laugh was music.

"Damn, James, Jr., you're smooth. Now I known how your Dad stays married to your Mom," she finally was able to speak.

"I know Wade, and I know about Joss, so tell me the connection."

"They're in love with each other, and they don't know it," Tim started.

"And they're both scared the other one won't want them because they're both handicapped now, even though that shouldn't matter at all," I added.

"So, we wondered about possible prosthetics, and then we had a nasty idea," Tim grinned.

"And, we can actually blame it on Dr. Drakken; well, really it's Dad's base idea," I smiled.

"And yours, too," Tim finished.

"And, pray tell, that would be…?" she asked.

"Marrying cyber-robotics technology to organic tissue with the Hephaestus material to bridge the nerves, allowing Joss to have both legs and arms again," Tim said.

"And Wade to have real eyes," I finished.

She looked at us and smiled for the longest time, then motioned us over to her.

We stood up and walked over as she stood, and she leaned down and hugged us both.

I thought I'd died and gone to Heaven: that body was to die for, and she smelled soooo good.

"Walk this way, boys," and she walked in front of us.

"If I walked that way, I'd get slapped halfway across the high school campus," Tim snarked, and I heard a giggle from in front of us.

We had her Marx'ed.

Oscar put his hands on our shoulders, and we looked up.

He looked down with his serious face, winked and smiled, then squeezed our shoulders and pushed us forward.

My shoulder throbbed for a week.

-----

She led us into a lab marked 'Confidential," and Oliver growled as he continued to walk behind us.

"Relax, Oliver: they're James' kids," Vivian responded to the growl.

"MOM!" a girl's voice screamed, and we saw a shadow run to an office and heard the door slam.

"Sorry!" Vivian yelled, and minutes later a pretty young lady came out, no more than 12 or 13, carrying a large duffel bag.

"How are you, Frances?" Vivian asked, and the girl walked up to her and hugged her.

"I'm fine, Mom, I just didn't expect you to back so soon, and I certainly didn't expect visitors, and definitely not cute boys like these," and I know I blushed, as did Tim.

"Who are you two junior hunks?" she asked, walking up to Tim and smiling big.

"I'm…uh...Tim Possible," Tim stammered, and she giggled.

"Nice to meet you, 'uh…Tim Possible,'" she grinned as she shook his hand.

"And, you must be Jim, correct," she asked me, and I nodded.

"Excellent work, Dr, Porter, excellent," I added, and she smiled.

"What gave her away?"

"She wasn't pissed enough at you when she came out," I replied, and Frances stared at me.

"You're a smart one," she grinned, and she put her hands on my head and pulled my head to hers and kissed me…hard and long.

I didn't know she could kiss that good.

When she finally let me up, I smiled. "Can you make 20 or 50 of her, Doctor Porter?"

"Make?" Tim asked, confused.

"Yes, make, silly," she held out her wrist, pulled up her shirt sleeve, and opened her wrist.

"She's like Oliver?" He asked, and Vivian looked even more surprised.

"Next gen," she replied, and Oliver came over and wrapper his arm around her waist.

"She felt warm, soft," I interjected, and Frances nodded.

"That's because I am real, silly," and she took my hand and put it on her chest.

I felt her heartbeat, and I felt something else on the outside…

"Oops," she grinned and blushed. "A little too close to the goodies, James, not that I minded," she purred that last part, and I was in serious trouble now.

"So, you've already gone further than we anticipated," Tim stated, and she smiled and nodded.

"I can go from cyber to organic, but not the reverse," and Tim frowned.

"We need organic to cyber," and Frances frowned, then smiled.

"Well, it sounds like we need to do some 'research,' Tim," she twisted his shirt collar between her fingers and pulled him closer. "Your place, or mine?" she purred and grinned. Tim almost fell over.

"I'm sorry, but you're too young for me, not that you aren't cute and all, and I've already got a girlfriend," she pouted, then looked expectantly at me.

"Me too; sorry, Frances," I grinned, and she pouted even more.

"Momma, what's wrong with me?" she scrunched her face and began to…cry? Vivian hugged her, and her crying peaked, and then dropped to sniffles after a minute or two.

"Sorry, Frances, but they're taken already: you'll find yours, I promise," Vivian smiled down at her daughter, and she smiled up at her mother.

"I'm no closer than five years to what you want; sorry," Vivian looked at us, and we smiled.

"Well, we can help: we've already jump-started the research and made several additions, modifications, and upgrades to your work based on your publications, Doctor Porter. We already solved several of the issues you pointed out in the article you published in February that appeared in Robotica, so I think we can make our goal."

"Goal?" she asked, and Tim smiled.

"We want an alpha on the limbs operational by next July and the beta by October, with a pilot set by mid-December 2009; back it up about four weeks on the dates for the eyes," I said. "Dad will have all of his components ready by those dates: they're the critical connection capabilities using the Hephaestus material," and she stared at me, astonished.

"18 months until pilot? That's impossible-" she stopped and stared at us, a wicked smile beginning to grow on her face and that of her daughter.

"I can take the next steps if you get to alpha by July, Mom," Frances was beaming.

"That you can, Frances," Vivian hugged Frances, then they both turned and looked at us.

"For Wade?" Vivian asked, and I nodded.

"An for our cousin Jocelyn, in Montana: it's a little surprise for them," and Frances laughed.

"A 'little' surprise? I'd hate to be on the receiving end of your big surprises, guys," Frances smiled as she walked towards me, stopping right in front of me.

"Are you sure?" She batted her eyelashes, and I knew I was happy I had a girlfriend.

"I'm sure; sorry, Frances," I replied, and she grinned and grabbed my shirt, pulling me to her face.

"Your loss, big guy," and she kissed me again.

She tasted like cherries and cinnamon, and I was really, really glad I had a girlfriend now, especially when she released me and licked her lips. "Yummy," she said, and she let my collar go with a flourish and a smile.

"This is going to be an interesting session, Doctor Porter," I replied, a bit woozy from lack of oxygen, and the two ladies laughed as I sat down.

"Why the deadline?" Frances asked.

"Two reasons:

"One: Christmas," and Vivian and Frances both grinned and clapped,

"and, two: Joss needs to walk across the stage for her high school graduation, whole, regardless of what Drakken did to her, to our family," Tim finished.

"Yeah: this is personal, this time," I added with a growl, and Frances looked shocked at my response.

"Let's do it, boys," Vivian announced and held out her hand

Tim was first: he took it and kissed it gently, then looked up at the smiling Vivian.

Not to be outdone, I took Frances' hand and kissed it.

Her hand was soft, warm, human…and tasty.

She giggled. "Are you sure you don't want to dump your girlfriend, or at least help me do some 'research?'"

"Sorry, Frances, but unless I had a signed, notarized statement from Jennifer, no dice: I don't want to even take a chance on losing her.

"Aw, snake muffins."

"WHAT DID YOU SAY!" I yelled, and she backed up from me, looking scared.

"I just said snake muffins, no big," she answered, looking even more frightened when she added the last two words 'no big.' She looked like she was going to cry again.

"I'm sorry, Frances," I took some breaths and calmed down, re-centering myself. "'No Big' is Big Sis' phrase, and 'snake muffins' is Jocelyn's favorite phrase," I told her, and she started to tear up.

"I saw part of the funeral; that's must be where I picked up her phrase; sorry, Jim," she apologized, but she still looked scared.

I took her hand and kissed it again, then took her face in my hands and kissed her cheek. "It's 'no big,' Frances: you just surprised me, that's all.

"Still ready to get started, Vivian?" I asked, and she and Frances both nodded.

-----

We had the alpha ready 30 days before target, and the beta was tested by mid-August.

We watched Frances grow up, and by the time we were at pilot she had gone from an 11-year-old to early 20s, and she had continued to look more and more like her mother as she grew older, not that there was anything wrong with that.

"I'm accelerating her growth to 24, and then I'll have her reset herself to normal aging parameters," Vivian told us when Tim asked.

Tim wasn't complaining: I suspect he was helping Frances do 'research:' he would come back from the lab smiling far too big.

I went one way with my package, and Tim went the other. We had to see if the givers wanted to give their gifts, we had to see if the recipients wanted their gifts (and they needed some time with them, after all), and we had to make sure that the gifts would be a surprise to the other parties.

Yes, we were evil that way, but we kept it secret from the other party: what was being received.

We still had a little 'Snowman Hank' inside of each of us, and we wanted to give everyone a good Christmas this year:

Dad.

Mom.

Big Sis.

Nana.

Joss.

Ron.

Wade.

Sarah.

Monique.

This Christmas would be personal.

We wanted to film it and show it to them: her in her cell, and him in his straight jacket, and prove once and for all to both of them, with the opening and closing credits:

You

Didn't

Win.

It's Not "Possible" For You.

-----

chapter now complete

-----

Next, on Define, Hell IV (or, Define, Hell, IIII): Changes, and Christmas:

"Didn't you go to Middleton High?" she asked, and Monique nodded.

"Graduated two years ago?" Again, Monique nodded.

"You were friends with Kim Possible." The slender woman stated confidently as she pulled up a chair and sat across from the stunned Monique.

"Yes; how did you know?"

"Go, Mad Dogs, Go, Go, Mad Dogs," she cheered, and Monique stared at her, then recognition slapped her in the face:

"Tara?" she asked quietly, and Tara nodded.

"Tara!" Monique jumped up, pulling Tara up as well and embracing the woman from the past.

"GF," Monique looked at her head, "what happened to your hair?"

Next, on Define, Hell IV (or, Define, Hell, IIII): Changes, and Christmas:

Chapter 8: Friendship: Peach Fried Pie

Thank you, to all of you, for continuing to support me in this journey.

Thanks again for reading, and please review.

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