Sorry it's been so long, faithful readers (as if I have any left…), but the times, they have been a-changing. Thanks very much to AngusH, BlueEyedBrigadier, CajunBear73, Danny-171984, Drakonis Aurous, Katsumara, King in Yellow, Kwebs, Michael Howard, MrDrP, MrWizard, RobinofYJ, Samurai Crunchbird, screaming phoenix, Sir Sebastian, and Shrike176 for the reviews.

And of course, a booyah to my beta, Ultimate Naco Topping, whose Snow Driftin' is an instant classic of laugh-out-loud win.

Kim Possible and ancillary characters ©Disney.

I'm so tired, Ron, she whispered.

He carried her back to the bed, slid in next to her, and held her to him. She fell asleep almost immediately.

Ron watched her sleep as dawn broke over the harbor.

I.

"Wha? Hunh?" Ron groaned as the phone woke him. He rolled over and picked up the handset.

"Ronald. Dr. Director here. Are you awake?"

"Am now," he grumbled.

"It's 10:00, Ronald. When can we expect you and Kim?"

"Uh," and he turned to peek at Kim, who was stretching out and starting to open her eyes. "Eleven. We need to get cleaned up and grab some breakfast. Then we'll be right over…. Wait a second. Where's over?"

"Take the service elevator to level B3. We will see you at 11:00."

"Wait! What? B3? Then what?" Ron realized he was speaking to a dial tone. "What is with all the curtness?"

Kim was lying on her side, looking at him. "Betty?"

"No, Ron, but I get that a lot. Ha!"

Kim shook her head slowly and disdainfully.

"Heh," said Ron sheepishly. "Okay, we've got an hour, then we're supposed to take the elevator to B3. At which point, we'll probably be whisked down a tube, or shot through the air by a spring-loaded platform, or dematerialized and beamed–"

"Yes, I get it Ron. But we don't need an hour – I just want to get this debrief over. Let's skip breakfast and–"

A horrified gasp from Ron cut her off.

"Kim! Are you even listening to yourself?" Ron turned away from her. "Rufus! C'mon, buddy, we gotta go grub," and, casting a wary glance at Kim, continued with, "and KP's delirious from hunger. Rise and shine!"

Rufus popped his head out of the dresser and nickered hungrily.

"C'mon, KP, if we scramble we can get to the hotel breakfast before they close."

Ron dashed into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Kim stretched out in the bed for a moment. Her face grew serious as she thought back to their conversation a few hours earlier, but then her concentration was broken as Ron called out to her.

"Kim! Chop chop! There's a chafing dish of scrambled eggs with our names on it!"

He stuck his head out of the bathroom. "I'm speaking metaphorically, you realize?"

"Okay, okay," she nodded, hauling herself out of bed, and following him into the bathroom.

II.

Fifteen minutes later they were in the lobby restaurant of the hotel, a generous stack of pancakes dominating Ron's spot, and a bowl of granola, yogurt, and fresh fruit gracing Kim's place. The gentle murmur of the hotel's five-star clientele blended harmoniously with the street sounds of Hong Kong.

Kim, still feeling pretty wiped out from the previous day's events and their abbreviated night's sleep, pushed the yogurt around idly. Under normal circumstances, she would be thrilled to have a couple of all-expenses-paid days at a top hotel, but her heart wasn't in it at the moment.

She looked up from her bowl at Ron, and her brow furrowed in concern.

"Ron? You okay?"

His eyes were closed and head thrown back. But his expression was one of bliss, not pain.

"Kim…" he whispered. "The coffee…the coffee…"

"Is something wrong? Is it poisoned?" With ecstacy? She stared down at her own cup, a confused look on her face.

"Nooooo… it's so… good…." Ron's head came forward and his eyes opened and slowly refocused on her. "For the first time, I understand why people drink the stuff. I didn't realize… so it doesn't have to be bitter and metallic?"

Skeptically, Kim picked up her own cup and had a sip.

"Yeah, it's pretty good." She took another sip, and this time her own eyes closed involuntarily. "Okay, I guess I see your point."

Ron briefly admired the artistic dusting of powdered sugar over the top of his blueberry pancakes, then drenched them in syrup and tucked in.

"Ron-" Kim began.

"Can't talk. Eating," mumbled Ron as he stuffed another forkful in his mouth.

"Okay, but those of us not raised by wolves can speak while you eat, right?"

Ron gave her a mock grumpy look but nodded his assent.

"I was just gonna say that I'm going to give Betty the microfiche. Like you suggested. She'll know what to do with it, and I think we should trust her."

Ron nodded agreement, never pausing in his remorseless conversion of pancake into food energy.

Kim paused, continuing to absentmindedly toy with her yogurt, while Rufus stealthily snuck onto the table to grab tiny muffins and croissants from the bread basket.

"We've had three run-ins with villains in the last few months. I refuse to believe it's a coincidence. Something is going on, and while GJ has its faults, I don't think we should go into this alone."

"Okmph," mumbled Ron. He drank deeply from his glass of orange juice. "You know I agree with you. Betty's good people, and the sooner we get that microfiche to somebody who can do something with it, the better." He paused for a moment, thinking. "You realize, of course, they might toss us off the case? You're a federal government employee, and Dr. Director is… well, I don't really know who GJ reports to, but she might not have a choice, especially seeing as how she seems pretty chummy with the Ambo."

"I have thought about that, actually," responded Kim from around a mouthful of fruit.

"And you're cool with letting this thing go?"

"Well…," Kim trailed off. Her eyes darted away from Ron as her hands fiddled with the heavy cloth napkin in her lap.

Ron looked at her sharply.

"Do you have something you want to tell me, Kimberly Anne Possible?"

Kim nervously smiled at Ron's tone. "Before we left for the delta I had Wade scan the 'fiche and asked him to have a look at it."

Ron shook his head, smirking.

"What? I'm agreeing that we give the info to GJ and let them take the investigation over. But don't you want to know what Drakken's up to?"

"I'm not shaking my head 'cuz I disagree, KP – you know me: if Drakken's plotting something, I wanna be the guy that hits the self-destruct button." He took a sip of coffee. "It's just that I knew you couldn't really take yourself out of this little sitch."

With that he waved at the waiter and, pointing to his now empty mug, mouthed "coffee" with great dramatic flair.

Kim sighed.

"I suppose not. Whatever is going on just seems to be all about us. Even so, if it were any other villain, I might be able to step back. But Drakken and Shego? I can't not see it through. I'm not saying we're going to get more involved, or do anything further, but I've got to know what's going on. And I'm not sure I'm prepared to rely on GJ to keep us fully informed."

Ron regarded her solemnly as he finished off his pancakes with a last crumb of bacon, breaking off only to nod approvingly at the waiter topped off his mug. He turned back to Kim.

"I'm confused. Are we in or out?"

Kim shifted in her chair.

"I… I guess we're trying to get out, but we're staying prepared in case we have to jump back in. I want to get back to work, and stick with the 'no more freak fighting' plan, but I also want to make sure that someone gets to the bottom of Drakken and Shego's little plot." She thought for a second. "And, you know, Ron, while I don't see an alternative to GJ, it's not like they always do a crack job."

Ron nodded again, slowly. "Ok, I guess that makes sense, if that's what you want. Just don't tell Betty we're on the fence."

Kim nodded back. "She knows us pretty well. I'm betting she won't ask."

Ron smiled.

"Yeah." He glanced down at his watch. "Holy smokes! It's almost 11."

He looked wistfully at his empty plate, and his full cup of coffee. Rufus, who had been discreetly snacking in his lap, looked up sadly. The whole scene was so amusing that Kim nearly burst out laughing, despite the uncertain mood which the previous evening had brought upon her. Then, her preternatural instincts detecting imminent movement, she reached across the table and grabbed Ron's hand before it could seize the coffee cup again.

"You can't chug a mug of hot coffee, Ron – you'll scald your mouth!"

He looked crestfallen.

"C'mon, Ron. It's Hong Kong. I'm sure there's plenty of good eating out there. The sooner we do this debrief, the sooner we can get lunch. And you'll want your taste buds intact for that."

Thus mollified, Ron signed for the breakfast and they headed for the elevator lobby. They ducked into the service elevator. Kim pressed B3 and turned to find Ron wedged into a corner, bracing himself with his hands and feet.

"What's up with you?" she asked.

"Just getting ready for whatever wild ride GJ's got planned for us."

"Ron, we're in the Councilor Asian hotel. You think GJ's got this place wired?"

"Are you so sure they don't?"

Kim snorted dismissively, but almost involuntarily found herself backing up until she could feel the solid steel of the elevator behind her.

It felt like an eternity as the elevator crept down the three floors. When the doors slid open, Ron looked around warily, his face wearing a large scowl. They were in the underground parking garage, and a large limo, engine running, stood in front of them. They took note of its GJ-themed purple and black color scheme, and climbed in.

Ron stretched out and put his hands behind his head. "Stylin'! I guess I was wrong about -"

His sentence terminated abruptly as the car's floor slid open, the seat tilted forward, and the three of them were dumped unceremoniously into an access tube in the floor of the garage.