How long had it been since she had been kissed? Since she had received a good, proper kiss? It wasn't like the security guards that had watched over her had been lustful monsters—not that she would have welcomed it. But she had not been so much as touched during those years. No real, concrete touch that said that someone truly cared about her, liked her, or even just wanted to hug her for the hell of it. And it sure was nice to be hugged for the hell of it. Kissed was even better, and this was this kiss she had been waiting for, needing, for six years.

And if it just so happened to be for the hell of it, then so be it. Wasn't that one of the greatest parts of love? Kim had her arms around Ron's neck and he was something to which she could just cling for safety. It was making up for all those years. She pressed her body against his torso, harder and harder. He kissed back, and his hands were covering her shoulders. The kiss was sweet and good, to counteract the fire.

Wasn't this the main reason she had come here? To find Ron by himself without Monique or anyone else?

His jacket was heavy on her shoulders. It was like a blanket and it smelled just like him. Maybe he would let her keep it. To remember him by. If he really loved Monique more than he did her. But somehow she did not quite believe that. He was kissing her for this one wonderful and bizarre moment.

And then it was over. The hands on her shoulders pushed her away, hard, and she stumbled back into the grass. Didn't fall. She never fell. "Ron!" A wave of fury shot up from her heart. How dare he! It wasn't like she was one of their freaking enemies! "Why?"

He stood there, barefoot, wearing nothing but blue plaid pajama pants that hung low on his waist. His chest was heaving with every breath that rushed from his mouth. The mouth she had just been touching. "Kim, I can't."

She took a step toward him. She still needed to touch him. Didn't he understand that? "Why not?"

He just kept panting.

"Ron," she demanded. "Why not?"

He shook his head. "I can't. You know that."

She shook her head as well, though she was sure for a very different reason. She hated getting mad. Before, she had never gotten very mad. Impatient, yes. Moody, maybe. She hated feeling mad. "No, Ron, I don't know that. I'm your girlfriend, remember? Your best friend. We've been that way forever."

He closed his mouth, and his chest stopped moving. He was holding his breath, he realized. "Yes, Kim, you are my best friend. You know. That is never going to change."

"But you don't want to kiss me?"

His eyes bore into her, half afraid and half fierce. Good grief, when had he become so brave? No, he had always been brave. He had always stood by her no matter what. "Yes, I want to kiss you but…" He groaned and put his hand over his face.

She giggled, realizing of course just how inappropriate it was to do so. "But what? If you want to kiss me, then do so. I'm sure Monique won't mind. I mean, she will mind, but she will understand."

"Kim, she won't understand."

Was it really such a difficult thing to grasp? Kim and Ron were soul mates. They had always been soul mates. Maybe Ron and Monique cared for each other, and Kim was perfectly willing to understand and accept that. But that did not change things between her and Ron and it never would. "Think of it as a welcome home kiss."

He did not smile. She wanted to see that goofy Ron Stoppable smile. "I think I just gave you your welcome home kiss. That one we just had. That was it."

She shook her head. "I started that kiss." She smiled. Maybe he would smile back.

He didn't. "Whatever it was, I'm sorry I gave it to you."

She stared at him. She did not believe that for a moment. "No. You are not sorry. Do not lie to me, Ron Stoppable. You enjoyed it. I felt that. You have enjoyed every kiss we have shared."

"We didn't share this kiss."

Why did he have to be so impossible? "Then what would you call it? Kiss exchange with no personal attachment?"

He made a noise in his throat that was akin to a snarl. It silenced Kim with a tremor that ran right to her heart. "I would call that an example of how messed up my life is right now! Can't you understand that?"

She gasped for breath—she hadn't realized she had stopped breathing. "I didn't... Ron, did you think about how messed up my life is? I'm supposed to be dead!"

"I know!" Ron snapped. "I know that more than anyone! We were the ones that thought you were dead, not you! You didn't know a thing about it and don't you dare to pretend to! I died as well that day, Kim!"

"Ron—"

"No! Don't you Ron me!" He was all but yelling now as he shivered in the chilly dawn. "That was the worst day of my life and the days after that were not at all better. I was lying in the hospital while they tried to yank all these damn bullets out of my shoulder and you were in the morgue while your family flipped out trying to arrange you a proper funeral that no one really wanted because we would have all preferred to have you! And you know what I was doing all that time I was lying in the hospital? I was wishing I were dead. Do you have any idea what that's like?"

Had she ever wished she were dead? She couldn't be sure.

"I didn't want to leave the hospital, Kim," he continued. "And I did not want to stay there. I just wanted to die because at least that way I would be with you." He stopped, probably for breath after that huge rant.

In a very odd way, it was probably the most romantic thing she had ever heard in her life. "Did you ever…"

"Ever what?" he demanded.

"Did you ever try to kill yourself?" She wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the answer. She had never wanted her loved ones to be miserable.

He took a deep breath and shook his head. Relief washed over her heart. "No, KP," he whispered. "I never did. I wanted to, but not enough to try because I knew that was the last thing you would have wanted."

Her eyes burned. She was crying again, now that she had a new horror story that thankfully had not come to pass. What if something like that had happened during her time in that cell? What if he had committed suicide? What if any of them had committed suicide? Just because they thought she was dead. "I'm glad you didn't. I am so glad you didn't, Ron."

"So am I." The anger was gone, most of it, anyway.

She wanted to hug him again, but she wasn't sure if he would allow that. Why was he being this way?

"KP," he said again softly. "If you… if you really had died… what would you have wanted for me?"

She shrugged. "To be happy. To do something with your life. What a question, Ron." He had better not say he was happy with Monique.

He ran his hand through his hair. "You know this whole crazy masters program?"

She nodded. "So weird."

"I did it for you. I did it because of you."

She met his eyes. "What?"

"It was after you died," he continued. "Or your clone. Or whatever. It was the worst summer ever. And I had gotten into Upperton. I had forgotten. So all the crazy reminders came and I figured, why not? We were supposed to go to college together. I didn't think you would have wanted me to forget that. So I went. It wasn't horrible. I could lose myself in all these classes and not have to think about you. Not that I didn't want to think about you, but it hurt too much. You have to understand that. So I put all my thought into schoolwork. After a while it became easier, even interesting. I didn't think I would ever be able to do something like that. But I knew that if we had gone to college together then you would have pushed me the whole way through. And I guess you did. And since you… didn't get the chance to go college, I thought I would do it for you. That's how it was at first. And then it was for me, but in a good way. I wanted to make you proud of me. That's why I'm doing this program now.

She had still done something for him. She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of his jacket. "I always knew you were smarter than you thought you were."

He gave a small laugh. "I guess you were right."

"I can't believe you did that for me. That's…" She couldn't finish.

"That's what, Kim?"

She shook her head. She had to finish without being ridiculous. "That's the best present you have ever given me."

"I'm glad you like it."

For a long time neither of them said anything. Inside the building she could hear people getting ready for the day. "What about Monique?" she finally asked. "Do you love her?"

"Yes," he said. His voice wasn't loud, but it was firm. "She is everything to me."

"Why?" Was it such an awful question to ask?

"We've always been friends," he said. "You know that."

"But now you're marrying her!" Kim pulled the jacket closer around her. "I don't understand that. How can you love her?"

Ron made a face. "I thought she was your friend! Kim, you're… you're acting like a child here."

"I am not." She could recognize her own pout. "And how dare you say that to me. You have no right to say that to me. You have no idea what I have been through."

"I would if you would just tell me." He ran up to her at this point to grab her arms. His hands felt wonderful, and she wanted to melt right there.

But she had to stay firm. "How can I tell you when you're with Monique?"

"Because I am still your best friend and I care more for you than you will ever know." His voice was now like a hiss.

Her throat tightened. She didn't know what to say. "I was in a cell under the water for six years. I had everything I needed and that was it. I couldn't escape. All I could do was wonder why I was there, where everyone else, if I was going to be rescued. I didn't know what to think. It was maddening."

He nodded slowly. "I am so sorry." Then he pulled her in for a hug. He smelled so good. Better than the jacket.

"Thanks," she replied. She wanted a kiss. A kiss was so much better. A kiss meant he loved her.

He did not release her yet. "Monique and I have always been friends. She was just as broken up about your death as I was. She loves you so much, Kim. We were always there for each other. Shoulder to cry on, that kind of deal. And then… well, one thing led to another."

"She was my replacement," she whispered.

"No," Ron said fiercely, though he still did not release the hug. "No! Can't you understand that? You may be the reason I found Monique, but you are not the reason I love her."

A little wild animal inside of her growled. She would not believe that. "But, Ron, I'm back."

"After you were dead."

That was it. She pulled away, too hurt to cry.

"Kim," he began.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Ron. Not now. Can't we just… can't we just worry about something else right now? Finding Wade?"

"I can do that."

"Then do the obvious and go to his parent's house. Find out something."

He nodded. "I'll go today."

She suddenly felt guilty. "What about classes?"

"I'll skip them," he said brightly. "I'd rather do this for you. I want to know who set you up just as much. Your life was not the only one that was destroyed."

She couldn't help but smile. "Thank-you, Ron."

He smiled back at her. "You're welcome."

All he gave her was a kiss on the cheek.


Ever since the guy had killed himself, Brick Flagg had not had a good morning. His head still hurt from the night before, and now he was in way over his head. And to think that not long ago this is what he would have wanted.

It was not as glamorous as the movies made it seem.

But it was a dream come true. Or a nightmare. He was finally in on the Tara Archer case. Yes, he had been reprimanded with the police force equivalent of a slap on the wrist for walking into that home, but the Chief was so happy they were getting somewhere that he had given Brick the new assignment.

If only he felt well enough to do it. How bad was a concussion? He hadn't been his most impressive in that office. The Chief blathering away about police instinct and self-reliance and all that crap while he just counted the seconds and tried to put everything together.

And detective work was supposed to be fun?

It didn't make sense. A sweet little nurse decapitated. Kim Possible's name. What was it supposed to mean?

Brick had always been slightly superstitious—not to the point of ridicule, but he believed that some things did fit together, when they were supposed to. For as he was sitting with his head down at his desk trying to make sense of everything, two things happened.

First, the phone rang. Not the desk phone, but his cell phone. His fancy cell phone whose number was only known to close friends and family. Apparently he had become more reclusive since high school. He pulled out the phone and stared at the number. He was careful to have all numbers labeled, and this one was just a nameless number he did not recognize. "Hello, Brick Flagg."

"I heard you were at the house last night." The voice was soft, female, and vague—he could not decide if he recognized it or not.

"The Archer house?" Damn. Probably not the brightest thing to say.

"Yes, the Archer house. I know you were there and I wanted to thank you for it."

He now thought this conversation could go in a variety of very different ways. "What do you mean?"

"It's just nice to know someone trustworthy is involved. I didn't think it would be you, admittedly, but still, you're good."

"Who is this?"

"No names, if you don't already know. I can't talk right now. I'll contact you later with more information. I do want to talk. It's important." There was a click, and the call was over.

Brick put his phone down. That was definitely weird. Was he supposed to know who this caller was? It was probably a prank by his little sister, for all he knew.

Except that did not feel right.

The next thing that happened was that someone appeared in the doorway, barely a minute later. Kim Possible.

For one strange moment Brick wondered if she had made the call. But that didn't fit.

"Hi," she said. She looked miserable. "I wanted to know if you wanted to go get some coffee. I haven't had coffee in years."


The Lode's home looked pretty much the same as Ron remembered, which he admitted was pretty vague. It was a nice-looking home, average as far as homes go, nothing exceptional to point that a child genius had lived there except for a few random devices one only spotted if they knew they were there.

Ron rang the doorbell, whistling to himself—out of fear. This was so weird. He hadn't been here in years. What was he supposed to do if no one answered or they had all moved away?

But the door opened, and there stood Mrs. Lode, looking pretty much the same as she always had. For a moment she stared at him suspiciously before her face burst into a smile. "Ron? Ron Stoppable, is that you?"

"Yes, ma'm, it's me." Well, this was the same.

"How are you?" She pulled him into a squeeze. "I had always wondered what had become of you after Kim's death."
Ron considered telling her that Kim was alive, but decided that it should be Wade to hear it first.

"Y'know, Wade never really got over that. I mean, he's fine and everything, but it really shook him up. He was pretty young when it happened. Murder is hard for a kid to understand."

How old was Wade now? Ron quickly did the math in his head. Hooray for engineering skills. Eighteen or so, now? Was that right? That had been the same age as he and Kim when the horrible day had happened. "Actually, I'm here to see Wade. Is he here?"

Mrs. Lode shook her head. "No. You missed him by three weeks."

"Huh?"

"Well, he turned legal and decided that he and some of his friends wanted to get an apartment together, closer to the tech school. They're all good kids, just geeks, so I figured it would be all right. He really seems to be enjoying it."

So far, so good. Wade was still around. "Can I get the address?"

When Mrs. Lode had mentioned an apartment, Ron had pictured the typical college mess young kids usually bought when they moved out. Apparently having the ability to build technology meant serious moolah. The apartment complex was the nicest in Middleton, with a doorman and everything. Probably inhabited by a bunch of rich snobs who hated a bunch of teenage geeks messing around. With his wrinkled clothes, Ron felt horribly out of place. But he went up the elevator that smelled like roses and into the perfectly vacuumed hall of Wade's floor.

And then to the apartment.

This would probably be nice. Ron had always liked Wade, and it was sad they hadn't spoken in so long. A nice little reunion… he tried to push the phrase "set up" from his head. He rang the bell, and within seconds the door had been opened by a redheaded kid in an oversized lab coat. Geniuses. They always had to have a look. "Hi," the kid said. "Who are you looking for?"

Ron looked past the kid's shoulder into the apartment. It was covered in posters from rock concerts, fantasy and sci-fi movies, and video games. Very cool. "Wade Lode. Is her here?"

"Yeah. Just a second. Wade!"

"What?"

"Door!"

And then Wade appeared, wearing shop glasses and wielding a blow torch. In this ritzy apartment building. For a moment Ron didn't recognize him. The chubby little kid was gone, replaced by a lanky teenage giant at least two inches taller than Ron. But the expression on the more adult face was the same as Wade pulled off the glasses. "Ron?"

"Hi, Wade."

And that was when Wade slammed the door.

For a moment Ron stood in the hall, unsure what to do. Not quite the welcome he had expected. But before he knocked again, the door was again open.

"Sorry," Wade muttered. His voice was definitely deeper. "I had to get rid of Alex. Sent him back to the lab. He's the only one here right now. There's five of us, I'm glad I didn't have to get rid of them."

"Roommates. Fun."

"Yeah," Wade said with a shrug. "What are you doing here?" He didn't sound exactly thrilled.

"I thought I'd drop by and check up on my old buddy. You've grown up."

"But I haven't seen you since…"

"I know. That's why I'm here."

Wade's eyes widened. "Ron, I really, really would prefer not to talk about Kim."

"Wade, it's just…"

"No!" His voice ricocheted off the walls. He took a deep breath and said softly "No. Kim's dead."

Not the reaction he had been expecting. His mom had been right. He had been shook up.

"And I don't want to talk about it," Wade continued.

Ron sighed and rubbed his forehead. It didn't seem so hard to just say it. "Well, that's the real reason I'm here. She's not dead. She's alive."

He expected the kid to jump for joy. Or at least smile.

Wade just looked horrified.


Bwahaha! So Wade has returned and Brick finally gets his case! But who is this mysterious caller?