Chapter 36: Minor Changes
Shego stepped out of the hatch and let the chill, desert breeze blow through her hair. After several minutes of simply enjoying the clean, dry air, she set off along the faint path towards Monty's latest dig. The false dawn provided enough light for her to follow the trail at a fast clip. It wasn't very far, but it gave her some time to choose her words, to replay the suggestion that she was going to make to her partner.
Put bluntly, it was time to leave this particular hideout.
It had been several weeks since the two of them had rescued Drakken. They had taken some time before returning to the isolated haven, taking advantage of some of Northern Africa's more…interesting marketplaces. When they returned to the lair, they were carrying some additional supplies, archeology equipment, fresh foodstuffs and, most importantly for preserving their sanity, several cookbooks. They were also towing a trailer full of jet fuel. They had arrived, exhausted, in the wee hours of the morning but Shego had insisted that they service both the SUV and the aircraft before resting. Monty hadn't argued, realizing that as hunted fugitives they needed to be able to flee at a moment's notice.
Since then, they had slipped into a comfortable, if dull and nocturnal, routine. They spent a couple hours each day maintaining the lair. They also worked out twice each day and Monty was quickly becoming capable, once again, in a fight. Monty was in the habit of spending a great deal of time working at his dig. He had set up a heavy canvas tarp around it, so that he could work all night without letting any light escape. That way curious eyes, even if there were any in this remote spot on the globe, would be unable to spot him from afar.
The duo had taken on two contract jobs, arranged by Henchco, since springing Drakken. Both had been industrial espionage jobs, one in Hungary and the other in Portugal. In both cases, Monty had shown that while he was no longer a world-class martial artist, he was a solid backup to her. He had also taken the opportunity, on both missions, to sell off some of the artifacts he had unearthed. While the money these artifacts fetched wouldn't have covered their travel expenses, it had proven a welcome addition to their payoff. Shego had been overjoyed, since Monty's talent gave them more options when it came time to relocate. She was determined to relocate within the next ten days.
The fact was that the very traits that made this haven an excellent refuge made it a crappy base of operations. The isolation meant that the duo had to devote a great deal of time to traveling to and from their capers. The only real metropolitan area within range was Sabha and the last time they had left that city, they had been trailed. Granted, they lost their followers during the nighttime drive and a windstorm had come up the next day, erasing all signs of their path, but it made Shego nervous. It had probably been an opportunistic bandit gang but Shego couldn't be sure; there were too many international agencies looking for her and/or Monty for her to take any chances.
No, the very isolation that had proven beneficial during their 'run and hide' phase was now a hindrance during their 'take contracts and make money' phase. Shego was fairly certain that her lover would see her logic. The only question was where would they go?
Shego reached Monty's hidden dig and paused outside the tarp. Since they had been trailed, albeit unsuccessfully, Monty had taken to arming himself when he left the haven. It wouldn't do to startle him.
"Monty," she called out, since there wasn't anybody else within several miles of the haven. "It's me, we need to talk."
"I'm up here," Monty's voice wafted down from the mountain's peak above the dig site. "Do join me, but keep low and quiet. We have distant, but persistent, company."
Shego clambered up the mountainside to reach what Monty referred to as his lookout station. He was in the habit of climbing to this perch and viewing the area before starting his work, each night. She idly reflected that even though he was no longer 'monkeyized', he could still climb like a freaking ape. Soon, she sat next to him near this particular peak's summit.
"We seem to have new visitors in the neighborhood," he informed her, gesturing to the north. Shego noted that the sniper rifle he had taken to carrying was in easy reach.
Shego followed his gesture, looking down onto the flatter desert beyond the mountains. The soft, pre-dawn light provided enough illumination for her to see a rag-tag handful of trucks, parked in a rough circle. Using her binoculars, which she carried with her whenever leaving the haven, she could spot tents inside the vehicle circle and a couple of armed guards keeping watch.
"How far away do you think they are?" Shego asked, forgetting proper grammar.
"I'd estimate eighteen kilometers," Monty answered. "Or eleven and one quarter miles, if you prefer. They were there when I started my night's excavations. Once I assured myself that they were bedded down for the night, I decided to continue my scholarly activities but I wanted to be here at dawn, too see what actions they would take."
"Good thinking," Shego approved. Then she decided to take advantage of their inactivity. "I'm thinking that it's about time we moved out and found another base."
Fiske approved of the idea, so the couple spent the next several minutes watching the group below them and discussing their new location. They weren't too enamored with staying in Africa, since Shego had relatively few contacts on the continent and most of Monty's contacts were of the scholarly sort. Sure, there were vast fortunes to be made in the diamond wars but Shego didn't care for that level of violence. Being in the middle of a conflict involving entire regiments just wasn't her style.
For the next half-hour, they discussed Asia, Europe, the Caribbean, Polynesia, North America and South America. All locations had their good and bad points, from a criminal's perspective of course. Finally, they settled on Central America. Shego had a safehouse in Guatemala, from which they could establish themselves. There were also numerous archeological sites, which Monty could exploit. Sure, there were monkeys there but Monty would just have to learn to deal with them. About the time they had agreed upon their destination, the group they were watching roused themselves.
"Do you think that they can spot us?" Monty asked his companion.
"No," Shego replied. "We're well concealed in the peak's rocks, and we aren't carrying anything shiny. Just don't go jumping up and down and we'll be fine."
As the two watched, the band gathered for some form of morning meal before loading the trucks and driving to the southeast.
"I suspect that they are heading for the narrow but serviceable pass some twelve kilometers to the east," Monty pondered. "I wonder if they are searching for us or are just passing through."
"Either way, we have to keep low," Shego told him. "You were smart to come up here and look around every evening and every morning. I think we better keep doing that."
"When do you want to relocate?" He asked her.
"I want to take on one more contract," Shego told him. "Four days from now. I want to clear out within 24 hours of finishing the job."
"I submit to your superior experience," Monty assured her. "I think it's time for me to cease operations at this dig site."
Shego nodded. One of the smart things that Monty had done was to drench the tarps he used to conceal his worksite, before rolling them in the local dust. As a result, the tarps blended in with the mountain perfectly until you were within two hundred meters. While that might sound like a long distance to a city dweller, the chances of someone in the desert getting that close were astronomical. However, once the tarps came down, his diggings would be much more visible, unless he concealed his excavation.
Finally, the mystery band had passed out of sight and the two watchers returned to their lair.
Kim opened her locker and pulled out the books she would need for the morning's classes. "Just a simple boring day," she pleaded, silently. "Please let this just be a simple, boring, normal school day. Classes, practice, walk home with Ron, a little lip action on the front porch, dinner, homework, then some serious snuggle time."
In the weeks since Team Possible had dealt with the Pump overdose in Upperton, they had been forced to deal with three more teens overdosing at Upperton High School and, what was more disturbing, an overdose incident at Lowerton High School. The drug was spreading. Fortunately, on a nation-wide scale, it had only showed up in the Tri-City area, Go City, and Runnerton. At first, Kim had taken solace in the fact that it hadn't appeared in Middleton but Chief Hobble had informed her that just because it hadn't appeared didn't mean that it wasn't present. Kim was forced to admit that some of her fellow students probably used the drug but nobody had overdosed…yet.
The Upperton Police Department was making extreme efforts to track down the drug's source but whomever was supplying it was always a step ahead of them. He, she, or they only sold to a dealer for two weeks before moving on to another one. This mystery supplier also avoided known dealers, preferring to work through teens who hadn't had any previous encounters with law enforcement. The only information the authorities had managed to unearth was that the supplier always wore a burly overcoat and a mask when meeting with the dealers. As for Middleton, Kim and Ron had asked all of their friends and teammates to let them know if anybody approached them and offered them a 'competitive edge' in a bottle. Kim didn't relish the idea of additional missions but it would be worth it if they could end the latest epidemic as quickly as possible.
While four such missions in as many weeks, might not sound like much, when combined with other missions, the extremely busy academic and cheerleading/ wrestling schedule, life had become hectic. Still, Kim was hopeful for the next couple of weeks. Sure, Ron had his usual, Thursday night match last night and she had cheered at a basketball game but next week was Thanksgiving week. There were no matches or cheering events until the second week of December.
"Hey girlfriend, how you holding up?" Kim looked around to see Monique leaning against the locker next to hers.
"Tired," Kim answered, honestly. "That drug has made things way busy lately."
"Yeah, but you and Ron have managed to end all of the OD issues without further violence, haven't you?"
"Yeah," Kim admitted. "But each incident just seems to take away so much time. We have to catch a ride to wherever we're going, then it can take anywhere from fifteen minutes to a couple of hours to talk the subject into going to the ambulance. Then we have to arrange for the ride back. It doesn't take very many of these to really mess up an already busy schedule."
"You just can't help but chair the Winter Formal committee, can you?" Monique asked, clearly amused.
"That and the fact that Bonnie has really cranked up her game lately," Kim admitted.
Monique nodded, remembering earlier conversations with her friend. While Bonnie had always been a very capable cheerleader, she had been working even harder the last couple of weeks. Kim was still better with the acrobatics but Bonnie was closing the gap. This had, of course, spurred Kim to even greater efforts.
"So, you planning on some heavy couple time with the PF over the Thanksgiving Weekend?" Monique asked. "Or would you rather hit ATD sales, with me?"
"I'm afraid that I can't do either one," Kim answered. "Nana's going to make the trip to my Uncle Slim's ranch, so we're heading up to do the major fam thing."
"Ron going with you?"
"No, he's got family coming to visit," Kim sighed. "Ron's cousin Rueben is bringing his wife to visit Ron's fam that weekend. They haven't had a chance to meet Hanna yet. Are you planning anything with Mat?"
"Glad you asked," Monique grinned. "He's having Thanksgiving dinner with us and I'll be visiting his place the day after Christmas!"
"Whoa, it looks like things are going okay between the two of you," Kim smiled at her friend.
"You know it," Monique gushed. "I'm going to have to lay a massive thank you on Ron the next time I see him."
As if his name had summoned him, the blonde boy, accompanied by Felix, Oscar and Yori, wandered up.
"…so the teacher thought my research was pretty good," Ron was telling the other teens. "She also likes the fact that I tried to rehearse the presentation. Of course, I didn't mention the incident after the bus got in."
"I do not understand this," Yori confessed, while Oscar and Felix chuckled. "Why did your teammates take offense when you practiced your presentation on the bus? And why did they resort to such actions to display their displeasure?"
"It wasn't as bad as it sounds," Felix informed her.
"It was more good natured than anything else," Oscar agreed. "I guess you could consider it a male bonding activity."
"Oh! Hey KP, Monique," Ron greeted the two girls, as the quartet approached the duo. "Sorry I had to duck in early, I wanted to discuss my business project with Mrs. L."
"I don't mind you coming in early to keep on top of your classes," Kim told him. "But I still haven't gotten a proper good morning."
Ron took the hint and the two teens looked around and, seeing no faculty, shared a quick kiss.
"That's better," Kim told him. "Now, what's this about an incident after the bus got back?"
Felix and Oscar started laughing again.
"Well," Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "I was practicing my presentation for business class on the bus and some of the guys sort of…took it badly."
"Just what…" Kim was interrupted by Wade's appearance on her locker computer.
"Sorry to interrupt," Wade apologized. "But we just got another hit on the site."
"Another Pump OD?" Ron whined.
"No, major flooding on the Arkansas River," Wade informed him. "There are at least four groups of whitewater rafters that are missing at this time, and at least four rock climbing groups that have been cut off. State and local authorities are calling for every volunteer that they can reach."
"We're there Wade," Kim informed him. "What's our ride's sitch?"
"National Guard helicopter, parking lot, fifteen minutes," Wade reported.
"Just enough time to change into mission gear," Kim commented.
"Hand over your class assignments," Monique told the two. "I'll see to it that they get turned in."
"You both rock," Ron thanked both Monique and Wade. The two teens quickly pulled their mission bags out of their lockers, hurried to their respective bathrooms to change, and were waiting on the helicopter when it arrived.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. The teens received mission briefings on the way to the river. The mission was fairly similar to the mission they had taken during their return from Japan, over the summer. While the National Guard had the helicopters available, it didn't have enough ground teams too perform enough, simultaneous rescues. That's where Team Possible came in.
For the next several hours, Team Possible helped the National Guard crew rescue stranded rock climbers and whitewater rafters, shuttling the victims to the Canon City Regional Airport. Finally, in the early afternoon, the rescue authorities had accounted for all known parties. The head of the rescue effort addressed Team Possible at this time.
"Kim, Don," he greeted them.
"Ron," Kim corrected.
"Ron, sorry," he apologized. "There might be some stranded parties, whom we cannot spot from the air, on the river between here and Canon City. Are the two of you up for some kayaking?"
Soon, Kim and Ron were each in a kayak, paddling down the river. Another search party was starting at Canon City so the teens would be finished for the day, once they reached the town. While the river was very high and strong, the teens were working a fairly easy stretch. They didn't spot any stranded victims and it took a little over an hour for them to reach Canon City. Wade, relaying messages from the rescue authorities, directed the teens to a docking site. As they approached, they spotted a small swarm of reporters. As Kim brought her kayak to shore, Ron spotted a small group of people, about a quarter of a mile down river. These people seemed to be clustered around a pile of debris.
"KP," Ron called into his Kimmunicator. "I see what might be further rescue work going on down river. I'm going to see if I can help."
"I'm right with you," Kim declared.
"I don't know if that's a good idea," Ron answered. "The reporters are going to follow you. If you pull in here, they'll stay here, out of the way. Why don't I go and call you if we need more help?"
"That makes sense," Kim conceded, clearly not happy. "Be careful."
"Right back at you, KP," Ron quipped, then guided his kayak towards the activity he had spotted.
"Lipsky, you've just been volunteered to help out with the flood problems," one of the staff's voice burst through Ed's door. This seriously ground the big man's gears; he had gotten off his shift, then finished his latest project, a few hours ago. Now this legal dude woke him up just when he was dreaming about mounting a V-12 engine on a motorcycle frame, seriously.
"This tanks, dude," he shouted back. "Where am I goin' and what am I doin', seriously?"
"You're heading to the airport," the staffer shouted back. "Rescue operations. They need someone with a strong back and a weak mind to haul equipment. That's you."
"Ah, man!" Ed whined. "That dudes got some serious 'tude problems. Alright, I'm moving!"
"You're going to have to take your own wheels," the man shouted back. "We don't have transport for you."
"Well, at least something's looking up, seriously," Ed commented, getting up and getting dressed. He rushed to the garage and started up the bike he had finished just the other night. The ride to the airport calmed him down. For some reason, riding his latest set of wheels always made him seriously mellow.
Ed reached the airport and reported to the Prison Bureau coordinator. Soon, the big man was hauling emergency rations out of storage and helping to set up tents. He seriously hated this work but one of his conditional release's terms was that he had to help with such 'community betterment' efforts. He wasn't about to risk the sweet deal he had. Besides, if he grinned and bore it, he figured that it could take some serious time off of his sentence. While hauling another load of blankets out of storage, Ed spotted a familiar head of red hair in one of the helicopters. Immediately, Ed went to find the Prison Bureau coordinator.
"Hey dude," the big man addressed the official. "I can't be working here, seriously."
"What seems to be the problem?" The man asked, disgust evident in his manner.
"Red's here, seriously," the big man pointed to the teen heroine.
"That's Kim Possible," the man confirmed. "What's your problem?"
"I've got a restraining order," Ed pointed out. "I'm already in violation, seriously. I can't come within a quarter mile of her. If she's gonna be working here, I have to be somewhere else!"
"Okay, you're right," the man told him. "I'm arranging for you to go down by the river. There's a crew clearing debris on the bank."
"I'm there, dude, seriously," Ed thanked him, in his own way, hopped on his bike and rode to the indicated street.
For the next couple of hours, Ed helped haul debris away from the bank and load it onto a series of dump trucks. Finally, the last load was on a truck and another corrections officer was about to release Ed, when the driver mistakenly dumped the load. One of the other parole 'volunteers' was trapped under the debris.
Ed and the other parolees worked desperately to uncover the man. While Ed didn't care much about the guy, seriously, he wasn't about to just let someone smother while he stood around. Besides, it would look seriously bad on the parole report. The group had removed most of the debris when Ed heard a somewhat familiar voice.
"Hold up the pile, I'll get him out!"
Ed didn't stop too think, he just strained his muscles to hold up the pile of junk. A smaller guy slithered under the mound.
"He's alive, I need some timbers, cinderblocks, anything!" The voice shouted from under the heap. The correction's officer managed to locate some logs and cinderblocks and passed them to the mystery dude.
Ed's muscles were seriously trembling when the next shout came from under the debris
"I've got the pile braced! Let it down slow!"
Ed and the other parolees eased the pile down.
"It's holding!" The next shout reported. "We need paramedics in here!"
Minutes later, a fire truck showed up and the firefighters took over the job of extracting the victim. A couple of paramedics crawled under the pile, displacing the mystery dude. Ed watched, dumbfounded, as the dude crawled out from under the pile. He seriously couldn't believe it when he recognized…
"Skinny dude?" Ed gasped. Then the big man seized his opportunity, while the authorities were distracted.
"Alright, skinny dude," Ed grabbed Ron by the shoulder and pulled him away from the crowd. "It's about time you learned what happens when you take Ed's ride, seriously!"
Kim finished answering the reporters' questions and turned to where she had seen Ron going. She found a small group of firefighters and parolees, identified by orange shirts and jackets, clustered around a pile of debris. As she watches, a couple of firefighters pulled a parolee from under the pile and loaded him into an ambulance. The ambulance drove off and Kim spotted.
"Ed?"
"Whoa, Red!" The big man yelped. He then turned towards a man, who must have been some sort of official. "Hey, she's approaching me. You can't say that I'm violating my release, seriously!"
"Where's Ron?" She demanded of the big man.
"Skinny dude? Let's just say that he's learning what happens when you jack Ed's ride," he smirked.
"What have you done to him?" Kim snarled. "I swear, if you don't tell me where he is, right now, I'm going to…"
A loud engine interrupted Kim's threats as a massive, custom bike pulled up between Kim and Ed. The driver reached up and pulled off his helmet, proving to be…
"Ron?" Kim gasped. "What…I mean how…"
"Dude this is one SWEET ride, seriously," Ron complimented Ed, tossing the helmet to the big man.
"Seriously?" Ed asked.
"Seriously!" Ron confirmed.
"What's going on here!?" Kim demanded.
"What'd I tell you red?" Ed replied. "I'm teachin' skinny dude here what happens when you take Ed's ride, seriously!"
"So what just happened?" Kim now wanted to know.
"When you take Ed's ride, Ed builds a better one, seriously," the big man informed her.
"Okay, this referring to yourself in the third person is getting creepy," Kim informed him. "But what does Ron riding your new bike have to do with getting even with him for getting your old one?"
"Simple, Red," Ed informed her, with a huge grin. "Now that the skinny dude has ridden on this one, he won't be satisfied with the old one, seriously."
"You got that right, Ed," Ron replied, giving Kim a discrete, 'follow me on this one' look.
"What's wrong with the old one?" Kim asked.
"Nuthin, seriously," Ed told her. "But it ain't as good as this one. Wait 'till this one's finished, it will really be sweeeet!" The last word merged with Ed's 'air guitar squeal' and the big man wound up on his back again.
"I don't get it," Kim confessed. "Don't you have any wild scheme for revenge? Aren't you going to try to trash us? All you're going to do is let Ron drive your bike?"
"Hey, I got no beef with either one of you, seriously," Ed insisted, getting back to his feet. "In fact, I probably owe the skinny dude, seriously!"
"Owe me?" Ron asked. "Why would you owe me a favor?"
"If your old man hadn't bought my old ride, I'd probably still have it, seriously."
"I'm still not seeing where you owe me," Ron conceded.
"Dude, seriously! You can't go building a new ride when you still got the old one!"
"So you're saying that me taking your old bike gave you an excuse to build a new one?" Ron couldn't understand the reasoning. "If you wanted a new ride, why didn't you just start on one earlier."
"Dude, no way, seriously! You can't be working on a new ride while you still have the old one, that's like immoral, seriously!"
"You look at bike ownership like marriage?" Kim was stunned.
"No way, Red," Ed corrected her. "Owning a bike is like, serious business, you know?"
The ride back to Middleton started out just a little awkwardly for the teens. For one thing, Wade hadn't been able to scare up a ride for them, at least not a conventional ride. Wade had managed to find an express freight train heading in the correct direction. There were no passenger cars on the train so Kim and Ron were quite literally traveling hobo style. The train would stop at the Lowerton marshalling yard, in about two hours. Wade was certain he could arrange a ride to take the teens back to school by that time. The second awkward point was the fact that Ron still hadn't gotten over Ed's new ride.
Kim had put up with Ron's gushing about the balance, torque, and handling characteristics for about thirty minutes before firmly stuffing his Business Class notes into his hands and putting him to work. While Ron was caught up in this particular class, he took the hint, shut his mouth, and started in on various homework assignments. The freight car was surprisingly comfortable for this purpose.
Half an hour out of Lowerton, both teens were as caught up as could be expected, with the exception that Ron wanted to rehearse his business presentation.
"So what are you trying to accomplish?" Kim asked, volunteering to be the audience.
"The teacher wants us all to give a marketing presentation," Ron explained. "I'm doing mine on…surprise…restaurants."
"You're going with your strength," Kim commented, gesturing for him to continue.
"I based my marketing plan on the marketing plan a Japanese auto manufacturer came up with a few…okay, several years ago," he expanded.
"Okay, I'm not seeing the connection," Kim confessed. "How can you use a car manufacturer's plan work for the food business?"
"It wasn't so much a plan as a strategy," Ron informed her. "You see, this manufacturer, and its competitors, were in the habit of building multiple models. Sometimes, these models, made by the same factory, would wind up competing with each other for market share."
"Still not seeing the connection."
"I'm getting there," Ron protested. "Anyway, this manufacturer's number-crunchers realized that they were wasting money by developing and promoting competing models. In an effort to stop doing this, they followed imaginary people through their lives and decided to develop one model for each stage in a person's life. For instance, when you first get your license, you're probably short on cash and want an economy car. This car will take you through college, at which point you start your career but don't have a family, so you can afford a sports car."
"I think I get it," Kim interrupted. "Then you get married, start a family, and that's when you want a family car or an SUV."
"Then the kids grow up and move out," Ron continued. "Then you start looking at luxury cars."
"And you decided to apply this to the food industry?" Kim asked.
"Exactly," Ron nodded. "Now, even though Bueno Nacho has my undying loyalty, I decided to ignore the fast food industry. As a young teen, you're looking for casual dining and good prices, kind of like a glorified hamburger place. You can probably handle the fatty foods, since you probably have a fairly pumped up metabolism. When you become an older teen, like we are now, you're probably looking for a semi-formal sort of thing, right for dating or hanging with friends."
"Like Riverna's," Kim supplied. "We go there on dates and I go there to hang with Monique."
"You're getting the idea," Ron nodded. "Now, this sort of place will probably satisfy you up until you reach twenty-one, at that point you might like a casual bar, maybe a sports bar type of place. Then comes marriage and children, and you want healthy food, quick service and reasonable prices. After the kids grow up and move out, you're going to be in the market for true, formal dining."
"This sounds interesting and feasible," Kim approved.
"Thanks," Ron smiled. "Now, here's the details."
Ron spent the next several minutes describing potential menu items, desserts, drinks and other issues. He finished his presentation about the time the train pulled into the Lowerton Station. The teens quickly linked up with their ride to Middleton, a middle-aged woman whose house they had once painted. They continued their discussion in the car.
"I'm not the one giving you the grade," Kim admitted. "But it sounds like you've really put in some thought and research into this." She paused, "is this the same presentation you were practicing on the wrestling bus?"
"I've worked out a few more details," Ron shrugged his shoulders. "But yes, it's essentially the same."
"So what set the team off on you last night?" Kim asked. "And just what did they do?"
"Well," Ron began, rubbing the back of his neck. "I really got into the dessert menu."
"So what's wrong with th…" Suddenly, Kim understood. "I take it that a bus full of teenaged boys, on wrestling diets, didn't take too kindly to the lurid dessert descriptions?"
"That's an understatement," Ron informed her. "As soon as we got off the bus, they picked me up, carried me to the empty field behind the school and threw me in the pond. I dragged three of them in with me and that started a kind of spontaneous, every man for himself roughhouse session in the pond."
"Ron," Kim was exasperated. "It was almost down to freezing last night!"
"Everyone ran home really fast after Coach Winters broke it up."
"Does this explain why half the wrestling team was coughing like barking seals at school today?" Kim's glare was quickly becoming an amused look.
"That could have something to do with it," Ron admitted. "I am so not looking forward to practice tonight."
"Why's that?" Kim wondered. "With your 'fortress of immunity' working for you, you should have an advantage over most of the other guys."
"Yeah, but have you noticed that I wind up using a cross-face, where I use my forearm to flatten my opponent's nose across his cheek, almost every match?"
Kim nodded.
"Trust me," Ron told her with a shudder. "That's not pleasant when he has a runny nose."
A/N:
Thanks again for reading the story. 36 chapters and still going.
Again, I'd like to express my appreciation to Joe Stoppinghem, for his Beta services.
Until my next update, best wishes;
daccu65