Interlude
You know, I've been in some weird spots, but this was ridiculous; if it wasn't for all the germ swapping, I'd have made millions with that stupid Ray-X. Even if the doofus Drakken hadn't dragged me along, I would have heisted it, no sweat. Of course, Princess would be there. Then she gave me her fucken cold. I have super strength, steel melting plasma and super healing powers. And it took one little -sneeze- to put me down for the count?
In the end I got rolled by her. Well, rolled up in a rug. Dammit.
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What happens when a lie turns into the truth? Does that still make it a lie? I guess this is where intent becomes key. If I intended to deceive someone, even if it becomes truth, the desire to harm was the motivator. Well, what if I wanted to just hide something?
Then Wade calls with a simple guard mish. I rarely turn down missions though I knew mom was going to be way cranked if she found out, but it was just a cold; what could happen? I was feeling like something the dog dragged in.
When Shego turned up to steal Ray-X, I decided to get all my sneezes out before hitting the security button; and then the rumble was -on-! Just going fist to fist with Shego made me feel a thousand times better, but then I slipped and she fell on top of me... on top of me... her weight pressing tightly against me. I looked up and all I could think of was how much I wanted to see what those lips tasted like... how ashamed and turned on I was...
So I just backed off, letting her keep my hands pinned and made up the story of having to sneeze. But then suddenly, I gave it to her good. She got to taste my mouth and I didn't even get a kiss out of it!
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Chapter Ten: Into Your Hands
In the dark, he clasps his hands together before his baleful gaze.
A young man, little more than a boy, scrabbles against the smooth floor as if he can escape the gaze, his fingers scraping bloody streaks, his nails cracked and broken in his desperation. He cannot move, as if pinned by some unseen force. Sweat pours down his terror contorted face.
Dei, his black muscles rippling, flows forward and seizes the back of the man's neck. He lifts him up with one hand, his fingers digging into the muscles, paralysing the scream before it rises. The man struggles as the dark, one-eyed figure approaches, filling his wide eyed gaze. Hands like black iron shift and holds his head aside, immobilizing him, pinning his arms.
The man whimpers.
In an instant, the squat muscular figure closes the distance. Teeth tears into the exposed neck. For long moments, only the sounds of slurping, splattering and choked cries fill the air. Dei stands still as a rock as the struggles weaken and cease. Tien, still lounging on a couch watches languidly from lowered eyelids.
A moment more and he steps back, spitting flesh on the ground and breaking into a bloody grin. He walks over to his chair and without turning presses a button. A hole opens beneath the corpse and Dei releases his hold dropping it through the chute. The tall lanky black man flicks his hand and blood splatters after the body; he then moves with animal grace, standing like an attentive panther beside his master.
The man with one eye wipes his mouth with the back of his glove and speaks.
"Come."
From the shadows of the room emerge five figures. The masks covering their faces are marked with a black triangular grill, the apex beginning at the bridge of their nose and covering their jawline, the silver casings of their goggle-like lenses glinting in the dim light. Tall and muscular, red, orange, blue, green and purple.
"Ms. Flanner's device is complete. Now shall we begin in earnest." He turns and surveys the masked faces, then breaks into a congealing smile. "In forty-eight hours, we shall have all the pieces we will need to start phase three." The five figures do not move or speak. "You have your orders."
"Go."
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Kim and Monique were exhausted by the time the Possible house came into view. Jim and Tim were completely intractable in their antagonism against each other. Mister Doctor Possible simply stayed out of the conversation as Kim and Monique deftly kept the two teens engaged with separate conversations, leaving them no room to throw their verbal jabs at each other. Kim simply couldn't believe that her once joined-at-the-brain twin baby brothers seemed all but ready to tear each other's throats out like rabid wolves.
"Kimmie!" Doctor Anne Possible stepped out the door as the utility van pulled up in the driveway. James stopped the car and killed the engine, popping the trunk as he slid out of the car. Kim jumped out of the car and Anne hugged her little girl. She was surprised how her girl had grown while she'd been away. Kim was a little bit of a later bloomer than most, but her head was now higher than Anne's shoulders. Anne smiled and held Kim at arms length, then ruffled her hair playfully. Monique dragged Jim to the trunk to get their bags.
"Mom!" Kim ducked, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"Tim," James called as Jim and Monique walked up, "could you park the car? I've got to help your mother finish up dinner."
"Monique, great to see you," Anne said warmly giving the black girl a hug as Kim took the girl's bag and gave it to Tim.
"Thanks, Missus Doctor P," Monique returned the hug. James came around the car and put his hand on Anne's waist.
"C'mon little lady, I think we need to check on that brain loaf!" He steered her toward the house.
"Dinner will be in about an hour and a half!" she called out as they disappeared into the house.
"Your parents are sooo cute!" Monique laughed as the two disappeared into the house.
"Uh, actually, Jim, could you take me and Monique to the bazaar before they close? I need her to help me pick out some material." Kim plucked the bag from Jim's grasp and passed it to Tim as Monique stepped back.
"Say what?" She stared at Kim, lifting her hands up as if the red-head was holding a knife. "Oh no. No! We just got off a five hour flight, girl! And before that I was on a red-eye. A red-eye! You know how nasty and gross it is on a red-eye?"
"Please Mo', I really need your help on this," Kim approached the suddenly skittish fashion diva. The fashionable girl cross her arms,
"Nuh-uh! You're on your own with that one, babygirl. I got your hero butt on the plane. The rest is up to you!" Jim and Tim looked on in amusement.
"But Mo', you're soooo good at making dresses! Pretty please?" Mon suddenly turned around, suspecting the red-head was about to unleash the fury on her.
"No! And don't you..." she stopped as she felt the ultimate will-draining power of the puppy dog pout emanating from Kim. "Gah!" Kim's eyes grew round and soulful, her lower lip protruded, quivering ever so slightly. The twins, not being the focus of the pout, still felt its will draining power even with their eyes shielded by uplifted hands.
"Must... resist... can't let her.... win!" Monique put her hands to her head.
"C'mon Monique, just give in, before she goes nuclear!" Jim called, "I'll spring for dessert!" Tim had already retreated to the safety of the interior, escaping as quickly as he could. The dark skinned girl turned around and opened one eye, studiously avoiding Kim's pout.
"Dimitri's?" Jim suddenly looked worried, then slumped his shoulders in defeat. "Yeah, Dimitri's," he sighed. Kim's pout disappeared in an instant and the two girls grinned.
"Spankin'!" they said together as they high-fived.
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"Okay girlfriend, I'm cutting patterns for you, so you'd better entertain me!" Monique said as Kim came up through the stairs leading to her room. Things hadn't changed here at least, Kim thought. Her parents had ruled her room off limits while she was at college and had draped heavy sheets over everything. So when Kim returned, they simply whisked the sheets back into the linen closet and the returning hero had her attic loft back to herself again.
Monique was hunched over shimmering bolts of royal purple rough silk with flowers embroidered in gold thread, some thin black silk and some black velvet, marking the fabric lightly with a crayon in her hand. Beside her on the table was a pair of fabric shears along with a bolt of black French lace. Several lengths of stiff black leather strips sat under a bolt of black tulle. Kim still couldn't believe what she saw when Monique had gotten going with the merchants at the bazaar. They had haggled for nearly thirty minutes before shaking hands. If Kim had thought Monique was good at bargain hunting, she was seeing a whole new side of the girl.
Dinner had been a strange mixture of relaxed tension. Kim's mom and dad were obviously glad to have company to distract the twins and to blunt the edge of their ongoing feud, but after a few slices of brain loaf and dessert from Dimitri's, Kim and Monique excused themselves. They changed into their pyjamas: Kim into a grey low crop shirt with a pink trim, a pink heart print on the chest and pink cotton yoga pants, Monique into a red and black football jersey and black training shorts. As Monique dashed off some sketches, Kim dug up an old Singer sewing machine her mother had secreted away in the basement and returned with it and a few spools of black thread.
"So, the tweebs. Spill!" Kim put the sewing machine down on the ground by the table and moved to sit on her bed.
"You know how the tweebs were the new Mad Dog mascots after Ron became the all-star running back for the team, right? Well, we graduated and moved on. The boys were all set to go back to being the pups and they showed for the first cheer squad meeting. But when they get there, there's a new cheerleader."
"Don't even need to guess. Rockwaller."
"Yeah. Bonnie's cousin, Tawnya Rockwaller. She hooked Jim good that night. He wanted to impress her so he thought he'd pull a Ron, become a football hero and join the team. He pushed himself hard. Tim thought it would just blow over like all the other crushes, but when Jim told him he was going to tryout for the team and quit mascot.... Well, let's just say it wasn't pretty. They had a huge blow out; they said a lot of things they shouldn't have from what mom and dad were willing to tell me." Monique leaned back and put down the crayon before reaching for the shears.
"Wow. Twins. They must've really pushed each other's buttons for it to get this bad." Kim sighed.
"Yeah, they were so close, and now..." Kim shook her head. "Tim took it really hard. And things haven't been the same since. It's weird seeing them like this. I'm so used to seeing them together, always with their secret language, 'Hoo-sha'."
"They're graduating and they're only sixteen..." Kim shook her head again.
"They're trying to beat each other, as if they could show that the other was wrong by being better." Monique started to cut strips out of the purple silk.
"How good are you with that Singer?" Monique nodded at the sewing machine.
"Who do you think mends my mission clothes?" Kim replied.
"Good, gonna have to put in your bit for this, honey," Monique smiled. "Can't believe Jim made the team though."
"Hey, they're geniuses," Kim shrugged. "I mean look at me. If I applied myself to all the geekdom they did, I'd be halfway to a Ph. D. already."
"You were always a genius, Kim. I mean who else could do missions half their waking day and still be a straight A student? Didn't you graduate with a four-point-oh GPA?"
"Enh, it was no big. I could have graduated earlier too, but I wanted some sort of high school life." Kim lay back and stared at the ceiling.
"So how'd Tim get into surfing? I mean, we're out in the middle of the Hicksville, America."
"Tim was telling me that with Jim always gone for dates or practise, he had a lot of time on his hands. He went to a local wave pool to test some fluid mechanics and met some other boys surfing there. He made a couple of friends, designed some boards that the kids seemed to really like and got into boarding to test his boards. He's really only going to show off the boards."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Girl, did you say 'dates'? So Jim is dating a -Rockwaller-?"
"Seems like it. I haven't met the girl, but if she's anything like Bonnie, yeah, it would be just sick and wrong."
"Wow. You leave home for eighteen months and nothing's the same." Monique's hands continued to flash the shears through fabric. She was quick and precise; lengths of silk strips were beginning to pile up. "Girl, you owe me -big- for this. I just hope it looks right."
"Mo' you are the best designer I know, and I know a few! I totally trust you." Kim hesitated. "But, do you need to call anyone?"
Monique looked up. "Yeah, as if I wanted my deadbeat Dad to know I was back in town. I'm here because of you, so you're putting me up for the night."
"Mo', you know you're always welcome here."
"Yeah, I know," Monique looked back down. "Just, y'know, I don't wanna think about that scrub, even if he is my dad."
"So what are we looking at here?" Kim asked, picking up one of Monique's sketches.
"It says 'you're gonna think I'm a dead sexy goth while my boot is in your ass.'" Monique smirked.
"Mo'!" Kim swatted at her friend who just laughed. Kim giggled as she looked at the sketch. "Oh my gosh, it really does say that! This is really cool, Mo!"
"Well then girlfriend, you better fire up that Singer, we've got a long night ahead of us!"
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Betty was sure that the room was soundproofed enough for her to curse out the Chair. It had been almost ten hours since she had sat down to work on "The Problem" and the files continued to pile up as she requested more and more information from her various departments. Matilde had been in and out of her office almost constantly as she called for hard copies of specific reports. The more she worked on "The Problem", the more frustrated she felt. When she had woken up from The Couch, her mind was buzzing with the thought that she was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle; namely Jack Hench's refusal to disclose which of his facilities had been burglarized. Based on what Hench had given them, the facilities hit had all been Atlantic coastal facilities, but that particular notion was clearly an assumption. It could even be a mis-direction and the reason why Hench, with all his resources, was unable to locate or defend against the transgressors.
Several stacks of reports ringed her raised monitor that displayed a large number of opened windows. All her trays had been put on hold and her desk was now covered with files.
Betty sighed as she sat back, closing her notebook with a tired hand. Clearly she needed additional information that would not magically materialize. The logistical leads that had been provided by Shego's information was still going to take some time to dig up. A pistol found on the oil rig had been purchased legally by Hench Co. and was the first solid evidence of how large "The Problem" was turning out to be.
Whatever the final objectives were, it was meticulously planned and executed. The colour coded operatives could not be the run of the mill super villains that Team Possible tackled; the lack of respect for life was more inline with other more serious departments, such as the GJ Anti-Terrorism Bureau. Yet three of Kim's major files had already been touched by "The Problem": WEE, Triple-S and Dementor. Betty sighed preparing to begin from a different tack.
She glanced over at the Couch and smiled. A pool of blonde hair poked out of the comforter spread over a gently breathing form. Vivian had wandered into the office around Betty's lunch hour and collapsed onto the lushly upholstered chaise without a word, the back of her hand glowing. Betty had to retrieve the comforter herself and tuck the beautiful scientist in. What has her little genius been working on?
She turned back to her raised monitor with a raised eyebrow. The single greatest commonality between most of Team Possible's files was scientific genius. Where scientific genius was the target, there was groundwork being laid for a large-scale operation of international proportions; right where Global Justice's mandate lived. And with several weeks between the Fiske Auditorium and Gulf Oil Rig files, coupled with "The Problem", that operation was well underway.
"So... the question is just how far behind are we?" Betty mused.
Betty immediately noted red text as it scrolled across her monitor. Her eye opened wide. Blood drained from her face. It read, "Landline to Omega Facility has been compromised at 00:53 GMT."
"Oh -fuck-," Betty cursed uncharacteristically as she opened her top left drawer. Inside was a hand scanner. She pressed her had down, not even twitching as a needle slid into her wrist and extracted blood. The scanner flashed green and as she lifted her hand, slid into the recesses of the drawer to reveal a large red button, which she immediately pressed. A chime sounded, signalling that her voice was being patched through to all facilities and comlinks on the Global Justice network.
"Attention," she said. Outside she could hear her voice being echoed by the emergency alarm speakers throughout the headquarters. "We have an Omega Priority One Alert. This is -not- a drill. I repeat, we have an Omega Priority One Alert. All Assault Leaders are to recall all offsite squad members and assemble in full combat gear at their designated areas. All leaves, holidays and vacations are immediately cancelled. All active Commanders to The War Chest in ten minutes. All facilities are immediately to go into assault lockdown. Once again we have an Omega Priority One Alert."
"Mmmfff? Ducky," came a sleepy voice. "Whuz goin' on?"
Betty looked up, a dangerous glint in her eye.
"The shit just hit the fan."
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"And just where are you going, young man?"
Kim groaned as the voice of her father pierced her sleep-fogged mind. She could hear Jim's voice, muffled and indistinct.
"Your sister has just come back and you're planning to go out?"
"Well, I'd invite Tawnie here, but you know what that's not going to happen!" Jim's voice was now reaching her. Kim flopped over onto her front, causing a moan from someone else on the bed. Kim cracked open her eye seeing a lump under the sheets. Monique was laid out beside her. Kim was lying with her head at the foot of the bed, Monique the other way. A pillow was jammed under the black girl's head. Below, the voices lowered but were even more heated.
They had worked together until five in the morning. Kim's fingers were killing her and her vision was blurring before Monique told her to go to sleep and "let the pro show why she's the M.F.Q." Not sure what that meant, Kim simply collapsed on top of her comforter and went right to sleep. She raised her head, trying to focus on the clock on the bedside table by the black designer and then gasped. The clock read three-thirty.
"Aw, man!" Kim groaned and jumped out of bed. She wobbled a bit, then rushed to the washroom her parents had installed in her loft. After a rushed five-minute shower, Kim was out in her robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. She fished out her KPS from her bag and hit the call button. While she waited for Wade to answer, Kim began applying a sparkling royal purple to her toenails.
"Hey Kim!" Wade's voice was cheerful.
"Hey Wade, how's the Shego watch?" Kim glanced that the KPS. Wade was wearing his virtual goggles and gloves again. She smiled and shook her head as he moved his hands around.
"She picked up Drakken a couple of hours ago from Middleton International and they're at the Regency Hotel, the one just down your street, right now. They've ordered up a couple of lint brushes and sent a suit down for emergency dry cleaning. Looks like they're getting ready for the meet-and-greet tonight at Middleton U."
"Great! You have the floor plan?"
"Yup. Here they are. They're holding it at six-thirty in the Mercury Building." A small lens protruded and a holographic image appeared above the small device. Kim finished with her toes and began applying a sparkling black polish to her fingers as she studied the image. Two small heads, one blue, one green, had arrows pointing at two seats on the raised platform, indicating seat assignments.
"Okay. I'm going to show up during Drew's speech. I bet Shego's probably going to be up on stage. She'll want that vantage point to watch for villains who could show up at any time. I'll let her catch a glimpse of me; I'll disappear until they have refreshments. Then I'll pin her at the bar. Wade, you have my invite?"
"I've added you name to the list, and the card should be there in a moment; you should be able to get in no problem." Downstairs, the doorbell rang. "That should be it now."
"You rock Wade! Thanks!" Kim giggled and she began painting gold and white petalled flowers on her toes.
"Okay, later Kim." The KPS beeped as Wade cut the connection.
A groan sounded behind her. "Are you guys done?" grumbled Monique. "I need some serious down time right now."
"Mo', dress?" The girl pointed her hand without getting up. Kim turned toward her closet and gasped.
The purple and gold silk strips had been plaited into panels of a black leather trimmed corset, reinforced by more leather. The back was intricately laced, with the silk strips molded into an intricate butterfly obi. Four flowing ribbons of silk hung down the back. On a separate hanger was a black suede off the shoulder tube top, with sleeves that changed from suede at the elbows to flowing parted silk that hung a meter down. The last piece was a puffy silk, diamond-tiered, short skirt that flared out with a wealth of black tulle beneath. It was scallop trimmed with black lace. An inch thick, lace-trimmed silk choker was the finishing touch.
"Mo'..." Kim whispered. "Mo' you're the best!" Kim shrieked and jumped on the girl, hugging her fiercely. Monique raised her hands, trying to pry off the enthusiastic girl. "That is so ferociously hot!"
"Kiiim.... air..." Monique gasped. Kim simply laughed and jumped off the bed. She seized the dress and held it up, twirling. The sleeves fluttered in a circle.
"Kimmie-cub?" James' voice floated up from downstairs.
"Yeah Dad?" Kim called down, putting down the dress and fixing her bathrobe.
"You got an courier envelope down here, I'll put it by the stairs!"
"'Kay, thanks!" A pillow struck Kim in the side and she turned. Monique was already lying down.
"C'mon, let... girl... sleep...!" she begged.
"Sorry Mo'."
"You're on your own for shoes and hose. Don't wear fishnets! It's so tacky..." Kim smiled.
"Thanks Mo'."
Kim went downstairs to give Monique some more time to rest. On the first floor, she found her father sitting at the kitchen table, fiddling with his handheld. He looked up as Kim came in. After pouring herself a mug of milk, she sat down.
"Hey sleepy-head," her father smiled. "Late night?"
"Yeah. Monique was helping me out with a dress that I need for tonight. Where's Mom?"
"Emergency call; said she'll be back by dinner though. Feel up to hitting the old Ranchero Rodrigez tonight?"
"Uh, sorry Dad. The dress Monique was helping me with was for... a mission I've got tonight..." Kim looked away. Well, it was sort of a mission, Kim temporized in her head.
"It's not with some boy, is it?" James sent a sharp look at his daughter.
"Dad! No." No, not a boy... "And even if it was, I'm over eighteen."
James sighed, giving Kim a surreptitious glance.
"Yeah, but you'll always be my little Kimmie-cub. Ah well, it's for the best I suppose..." James rubbed his chin. "Jim's out with Tawnie anyway. Hmmm. With Tim getting ready for his longboard competition, it'll be just your mother and I," a slow smile began to form on his lips. Kim nearly choked and sprayed her milk everywhere. She forced her mouthful down.
"Whoa, Dad, stop right there. I don't wanna know!" Kim gasped out.
"But Kimmie-cub, you're an adult now. You probably know that your mother and I-" James teased.
"No, you're not! C'mon Dad, I just don't wanna hear about how freaky you guys are, okay?" James laughed at the flustered look on Kim's face as she gulped down the rest of her milk.
"Alright, Kimmie. Anything you need before you go?" Kim glanced at the clock.
"Whoa! Yeah, more time to get ready!" With that, Kim pounded up the stairs to find shoes and hose.
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Kim was ready.
She'd opted for a pair of simple low ponytails that complimented the flowing sleeves and ribbons, but had her front bangs loose and brushed to the side, covering an eye.
The corset felt bulky with the leather panels and ribs, but when she looked at the mirror it looked outrageously formfitting, and was perfectly tailored. Kim stood at her full-length mirror and twirled just to see the ribbons and sleeves swirl around her. On her feet she wore stylishly shiny open-toe three-inch heels that had a sculpted rounded look. She'd added a bit of red to her eye shadow, making it a little darker than usual to add to the look.
Kim turned to her friend who was sitting at her desk.
"How do I look?" she asked.
"Girl, you are one badass Chinese goth princess!" Monique was admiring her work. The shapes she'd chosen were cut perfectly to Kim's anatomy. The corset was rough, but the suede shirt underneath cushioned Kim's skin, and, being a corset, pushed up the girl's tiny bust like a push-up bra. The black girl noted that Kim had grown since the last time she'd designed something for the red-head; namely, the hero's last mission clothes. Kim's inseam measurements were a few inches more than before. Soon, she'd be a younger image of her mother; the fashion designer wondered if she'd be able to get Kim to model for her.
"Mo', you -are- a great designer," Kim smiled as checked the contents of a black leather wristlet. Monique had remembered that Kim would need to carry a few mission essentials such as lipstick (laser, goop and normal), pocket spritzer (sleep and normal) and zip-line compact. She'd made a leather wristlet that could be secreted away under the obi for just those things. Kim frowned as she attempted to put on the wrist Kimmunicator, her longer nails making it awkward.
"Here, let me," Monique said, getting to her feet. She took hold of the tiny device and slid the straps into place. "Kim?" Monique asked as she released the girl's hand and sat back down.
"Yeah, Mo'?" Monique waited until Kim looked at her before continuing.
"This is what you want, right? This isn't your B.O.W. making you chase this girl, is it?" Monique stared into Kim's sea green eyes. Kim sat down on her bed, thought for a moment, then shook her head.
"No, Mo'. This is way beyond "Bitch On Wheels" mode. I know when I'm feeling competitive, but this isn't it, it's not the same. I don't know, I've never felt this way before."
"And you've never let anyone get a second kick at the can."
"Yeah. Even with Ron, I just sort of.... let him go. Played passive, like a good girl should. Even my plan... it was all just really girly girl type stuff. Let it go and it'll come back? Pfft!" Kim waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, maybe in movies like Serendipity! It just felt... so... -right- when she and I were together."
Then Kim's face froze for a moment.
"Mo'... what if she... really.... doesn't want me... or this..." Kim's worried face made Monique smile.
"Girl, with you in Miss Monique's Hunting Gear, ain't no way in hell that girl's getting away!"
"Hunting Gear?" Kim laughed. "Yeah. And Mo'. Thanks."
"Nuthin' doin' girlfriend. Now you get out there and reel in that fire green fish of yours!"
"Okay!" The girls got up and started down the stairs.
"Inventory check! Got your invite?"
"Yup."
"Laser Lipstick?"
"Check."
"Goop Lipstick?"
"Yup."
"Kissy Girl knock out gas?"
"Uh-hunh."
"Mini field glasses? Zip-line Compact? Condoms?"
"Check, check and... Mo'!" Kim punched the girl in the shoulder. Monique just laughed it off.
"Jus' playin' with ya, Kim." As they reached the front door, Kim gave the girl a hug.
"Thanks again, Mo'."
"N.P., K.P. I always gotcha back."
"Kimmie?" James asked. He came around to the front door and then stood there staring at Kim's outfit. "And just where do -you- think you're going, young lady?"
"I'm going to a mission at Middleton U. There's someone I gotta stop. It's a high-class function, so..." Kim gestured at her dress.
"Alright..." James said dubiously. "Just be careful, and nail that villain!" Monique turned away, choking on her laughter. James moved over to her and patted her back even as she held up her hand.
"Thanks Dad," Kim said, with a wry smile. At that moment, a heavy thump on the front door made the three of them jump. They stared at the source of the noise for a moment.
"Expecting a ride, Kimmie?" James frowned.
"Nope. Get back Dad, let me see who it is." James and Monique backed away a few steps. Kim strode over to the door and yanked it open.
Swaying on the welcome mat was a tall dark shadow. On his head was a black mullet with a receding hairline. An old scar ran across one cheek. His broad shoulders were slumped, his sunken eyes bloodshot. He was leaning one hand against the door; Kim saw the other was held against a vicious gash across the front of his nicely tailored suit. Blood dripped through his fingers.
"Drew!" gasped James.
"Kim... Possible..." the blue man gasped as he staggered through the doorframe, his yellow petals wilted, the vine trailing loose on the ground. Drew Lipsky, formerly known as Doctor Drakken, seized Kim's hand. "Save... Shego... she stayed... gave time... to escape..." with that he fell to the ground in a faint, blood leaking slowly from ragged cuts on his face and arms.
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A/N: See? I told you there'd be blood.