A grande sized chimerito and naco to MrDrP for reviewing, beta reading, and giving expert advice that made section I. possible (no pun intended). Also, if you haven't read the latest chapter of his What's the Alma Mater, Shego thinks you're lame. And thanks to everyone for reading!
I.
Kim was tweaked. She had everything set for the call with her mom; in fact, she had been ready for more than ten minutes, but she had yet to dial.
Something's off.
She got up from her desk and walked the floor of her room for a minute or two. Finally, she closed the door. Although that did muffle her best friend boyfriend's arena-worthy snores from the living room couch, that wasn't her motive for shutting herself in her room.
Get it together, Possible! I've got to do this before she falls asleep.
For the past six months, Anne Possible had been on the graveyard shift at Middleton Memorial as part of a department reshuffle. It was a little after eleven in Tokyo, so it was just after seven in the morning for Kim's mom—almost her bedtime.
Kim took a steadying breath, typed her home number into the video interface, and made the call.
After the fourth ring, Kim began to suspect her mother wasn't home or had already gone to bed. She was annoyed to discover that part of her was relieved by these prospects.
"Hey, Kimmie," her mother's image said as it appeared on the laptop's screen. A white towel was wrapped over her hair, and she was wearing the periwinkle robe Kim had given her the previous Christmas.
"Hi, Mom!" Kim replied breezily with a cheery wave.
"What's wrong?" her mother asked.
Of course.
Kim allowed her face to fall, took a deep breath, and blew at the few strands of hair that were dangling across her face. "The Lorwardians," she heard herself say.
"I see," Anne replied. After a long moment of silence, she said with a tight smile, "And after my roses have finally started to come back." When this remark failed to elicit even a smirk from her daughter, she asked again, "What's wrong?"
"We're not sure," Kim began, "but it doesn't look like invasion is their end game this time."
"Okay … what do we think their end game is this time?"
"It sounds like, and we don't know this for certain, that … that they're just coming for me." Kim was really irked by how dry her mouth had become in the last few minutes.
"I see." Anne replied. And after an agonizing silence that's length Kim could only measure by counting her heartbeats, her mother asked once again, "What's wrong?"
"I think," Kim said raising her eyes to meet her mom's, "I think that I might actually be frightened." The sound of her own voice uttering these words depressed her. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. "And I so don't know what to do about that."
"Okay," Anne said without breaking eye contact. "I'm not sure you want to know my opinion on that, Kimmie."
"Why not?" Kim asked.
"Because I would suggest you talk to your father about converting one of his base's deeper rocket silos into an apartment. And then I would have him place the heaviest, most blast-resistant cover he could devise on top of that silo. And then I would have Ron and his mystical powers sit on top of the lid."
Kim was flabbergasted. "What?"
"Kim, do you know what I was thinking when you were pulled up into that ship during graduation?"
Kim, still a little dazed, could only shake her head.
"I was wishing that I could go back in time and take down your website."
"Excuse me?"
"Right after you rescued Mr. Paisley when you were twelve," her mother nodded.
"Why would you-?"
"Because if I had stopped your missions from happening, you never would have become a world-renowned hero and never would have been abducted."
Kim was at a complete loss for words. Her mother had always given the impression that she supported her world-saving activities. Provided they didn't impinge on her schoolwork or chores, she had never voiced any opposition to the missions. Had her mom secretly been against them the entire time? Did she really believe that Kim had made a mistake by becoming a hero?
"Of course," her mom said, interrupting the downward spiral of Kim's thoughts, "that wouldn't be the type of decision you'd make. It wouldn't be you, would it?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Hiding at the bottom of a silo. Refusing to save the world or even help people because it was the safer choice. That isn't you, Kimmie. It never has been. And it isn't you now."
Kim gave her mom a small smile. She had fallen for her mother's stratagem so easily.
Still …
"But this being frightened is new, isn't it?" her mother intuited.
Kim nodded.
"Have you spoken to Ron about it?"
"No, I haven't." She shook her head. "I keep telling him that we'll be fine, that we'll have each other's backs. But the truth is … I'm not sure that'll be enough."
"You need to let him know that."
"But—"
"Kim, Ron does have your back. And not just in a fight with supervillains or aliens, he has your back emotionally, too. Let him help you in this."
Kim nodded.
"And it isn't just him, either. Think of your other friends. And think of all those people you've helped, that you've saved over the years. Sweetheart, your support system is literally the entire world."
"I-I guess."
"You know." Anne corrected.
"Okay, mom," she gave an unconscious, genuine smile. "Thanks." Kim brushed her hair behind her ear.
"Oh, wow!" her mother exclaimed. "Your hair!"
"Oh yeah," Kim smiled, "you haven't seen my streak yet."
"It looks lovely."
Kim blushed. "Karin had her ends dyed dark blue all the way around, and it looked really cool. So, I asked her if she could recommend someone to give me just a thin streak of violet. And she did it herself. A really good job, I think."
"I think so, too."
"Do you think Dad will agree?" Kim made a face.
"Well …" Anne mirrored her daughter's grimace. "What does Ron think?"
"He thinks it's 'bon-diggity,'" Kim replied and then chuckled. "Even Duff Killigan gave me a compliment a few weeks back."
"Feeling better?"
"I do," Kim admitted. She paused. "You know what I have been thinking about lately?"
"What?"
"The Christmas cookies you made when I was ten."
"Really?"
"Yeah, you twisted gingerbread and sugar cookie dough together so that they looked like candy canes."
"Oh, yes, I remember those."
"They were so good! Why didn't you ever make them again?"
"Well," Anne said, "that was kind of a tough year. The boys were still really young, so I wasn't back on a full shift yet. And then there were cuts at your father's program. At the beginning of December, we really weren't sure if your Dad was going to have a job in the new year."
"Geez. I never knew that."
"So, I tried some new recipes and other inexpensive ways to celebrate since we weren't going to have much to put under the tree."
"I've always considered that one of my favorite Christmases."
"Well, it worked then." Kim's mom raised an eyebrow. "This call wasn't just an elaborate ploy to get me to make you more of those cookies, was it?"
"Suspicious much?" Kim rolled her eyes. "Of course, I wouldn't complain if you wanted to try baking them again this year."
"We'll see."
Then something occurred to Kim. "Waitaminute, Mom. That doesn't make sense. That was the year I got my bike."
"Oh, that wasn't us," Anne Possible said with a straight face. "Santa got that for you."
Kim waited for her mom's deadpan expression to break into a smile. But she held it. In fact, she held it for so long, that Kim began to laugh.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, Mom. I just realized what I really needed tonight."
"And what was that?"
"A little bit of magic," Kim smiled. "Thanks, Mom. I love you."
"I love you, too, Kimmie."
When Kim ended the call, she felt very much at ease. She put her computer to sleep, climbed under her covers, and turned off the nightstand lamp. Then she lay in the darkness for several minutes.
She felt fine, but she couldn't fall asleep for some reason. Finally, she realized her problem. She got up and opened her bedroom door. Back under the covers, she listened to her best friend boyfriend's cacophonous snores ricocheting against her walls. Within minutes, she was fast asleep.
II.
Kim could only gape at the blue box the four of them had just exited. If she didn't have a clear view of the large console room through its half open door, she would have sworn it didn't even have the space of her bedroom closet. Even with the view of the interior, it didn't make sense. She walked all the way around to confirm its size, but that only made the mystery deepen. Trying to accept both its interior and exterior dimensions at the same time made her feel somewhat dizzy.
Ron, with his torch aimed over the box's entrance way, was focused on a different feature of the Doctor's ship. "What's a 'Police Public Call Box'?"
"Well, Ron," the Doctor explained, "it's a phone booth for calling the police."
"Oh, yeah," Ron nodded, "I've seen phone booths in old movies. Superman used them for a closet. Do police use this as a closet?"
"I don't believe so, Ron, no."
"Why does your ship look like one?"
"Well, you see, the Tardis has the ability to perfectly camouflage itself with its surroundings. Within seconds of landing anywhere, it selects the perfect disguise to blend into the background."
Ron nodded. "Okay, that sounds cool. Still, a 'Police Public Call Box' kinda stands out in the middle of Mr. Paisley's front room."
"It always looks like that," Jamie said absently as he trained his torch to the top of the master staircase.
"Yes," the Doctor admitted. "There is a problem with the chameleon circuit. I've been meaning to look at it for some time."
"What does that mean?" Ron asked.
"It's stuck," Jamie chuckled.
"Fine, fine," the Doctor huffed, "let's see what's going on here."
"Should we try calling out for Mr. Paisley?" Kim asked.
"A good idea, Kim. But let's examine our immediate surroundings first," the Doctor suggested.
Slowly, the group of five fanned out in a semi-circle from the Tardis' open door.
Apart from the presence of massive cobwebs, nothing about the foyer looked dilapidated or run-down. If it hadn't been mid-April, Kim might have assumed that Mr. Paisley was decorating his manor for a big Halloween bash. Still, there was something else about the foyer that was bothering her. Maybe it was encountering such complete silence and darkness in a room that had been so full of light and commotion the last time she visited. Whatever it was, she got a creepy feeling as she stepped toward the stairs. She wasn't cold, but she felt compelled to rub down the goosebumps on her arms and was tempted to do the same with her legs.
"Do these cobwebs look familiar to you, Jamie?" the Doctor asked pointing his torch at an especially thick clump of them hanging from the chandelier.
Something in his tone as he asked this seemingly mundane question made Kim stop in her tracks. She carefully edged away from the large cobweb that formed a billowing gate of sorts at the bottom of the stairs.
"Aye," the highlander answered in a voice just as serious. A second later, he cried out, "Hold on there, laddie!"
Kim spun around to the sound of Jamie's agitated yell just in time to see Ron getting shoved by the young man. Her friend was going to topple over, but before she could rush to his aid, Jamie had steadied him.
"You don't want to touch that stuff!" Jamie said, catching his breath. He then gave Ron a reassuring pat on his shoulder. "Are you all right?"
Ron nodded. "I'm cool."
"Kim, Zoe!" the Doctor called out sternly. "Do not touch the cobwebs, stay clear of them!"
"Why, Doctor?" Zoe asked, holding her arm out in a protective gesture before Kim.
"Because they are not cobwebs," the Doctor pronounced gravely.
"Wha-?" Ron began.
"It's a deadly fungus," the Doctor said. "Their chief weapon."
"Who's 'their'—I mean, who's 'they'?" Ron managed.
"The Yeti," the Doctor and Jamie said in unison.
"Jinx," Ron said brightly. As he realized that neither the Doctor nor Jamie were likely to be playing the soda game, his mood quickly returned to one of terrified befuddlement.
"Yeti?" Kim asked. "You mean like the Abominable Snowman?"
"Quite," the Doctor said, turning to her and Zoe.
Ron's knees began to knock together.
"Except they're actually deadly robots," Jamie explained.
"Indeed," the Doctor nodded.
Ron's teeth began to chatter.
"That must mean the Great Intelligence is back," Jaime said, notably agitated.
"I'm afraid it does, Jamie," the Doctor agreed, twining his hands nervously together. Since he had needed to place his torch in his coat pocket to perform this gesture, its light beam danced irregularly along the ceiling and created crazy, jagged shadows in the room.
"Let's pretend I don't know what that means," Ron said as evenly as he could after steadying his knees and trying his best not to cry.
"Yes, let's," Zoe agreed. "What is the Great Intelligence?"
"A malignant presence from the astral plain, Zoe. A spirit, if you will. An evil spirit," the Doctor replied.
"The Doctor and I have tangled with him twice before," Jamie added.
"What does this Great Intelligence want?" Kim asked.
"Well, among other things, to conquer the world," the Doctor replied absently.
"So, MrD," Ron said in his bravest-sounding voice, "We're dealing with killer robots who are disguised as Bigfoot, shoot deadly toe fungus that looks like spider webs, and are controlled by a ghost who wants to rule the world?"
"Well, I don't think it's toe fungus, Ron," the Doctor said. "But, otherwise, exactly."
Before he realized she was there, Kim had her arm around Ron's trembling shoulders.
"Don't worry," she whispered.
"Wh-why not?" he whispered back.
"Because we're here together," she consoled. "Besides," she deadpanned, "there's no way this isn't all a dream."
III.
Kim woke with a start. For a second, she couldn't remember where she was. Fortunately, Ron's ever-present snores from Michelle's couch were able to orient her. She glanced at her wrist and tapped the Kimmunicator. The screen came to life.
4:33 am
She tore off her covers and stumbled in the dark to her desk. She woke her laptop from sleep mode and drummed her fingers impatiently as she waited for the video call application to come online. She dialed Jim's number, but it went straight to a messaging service. This was unexpected. Even if her brothers were the type to turn off their smartphones while in class (and they weren't), it was Sunday afternoon in Middleton. She tried Tim's number.
"Hey, Kim," her younger brother said leadenly.
"Tim, I need you to do something ferociously—wait, are you ok?"
He shook his head.
"What's going on?" As she asked this, she realized that he had yet to look her in the eyes.
He sighed and shook his head again. "What do you need, Sis?"
"No, no, Tim, you need to spill. Right now."
He started to roll his eyes, but, as he did so, they connected with hers and he broke. "I messed up. I messed up so bad."
"Talk to me."
"Jim and I are doing an experiment," he replied. He noticeably flinched as he let the last word drop.
"What kind of experiment?" She was trying hard to be the understanding big sister, but there was something about her little brother's aversion to that heretofore cherished word that set off red flags.
"A kissing experiment," he said, refusing to look at her.
"Ok," Kim replied, not liking at all where this was going. "A kissing experiment upon whom?"
For a moment, she didn't think he was going to reply. Finally, he spoke his girlfriend's name.
"Jim said that since we're identical, she probably wouldn't be able to tell our kisses apart. And I said she would."
"So, let me get this straight, Jim is currently on a date with Angelica. And she thinks he's you. And you've got a bet going over whether she'll be able to tell after they kiss?" Her voice had grown heated as she spoke. And she had no intention of turning down the heat, either. What they were doing was despicable, and Tim deserved everything he got for playing such a terrible trick on someone he claimed to care about. But before she could unload on him, Kim noticed that Tim was crying.
"Tim?" she asked gently.
"I tried calling him, but his phone's off," he said after a minute.
"Did you try calling her?"
"Yeah, same deal."
"Do you know where they went?"
"They're skiing on Mt. Middleton with her folks," he spat. "Dad's at the club, and I can't wake Mom up to drive me up there—not after her shift."
Although her twin brothers were super geniuses, they were still subject to things as mundane as the minimum driving age. Although they had designed most of the features on Kim's car, they were both still a year away from a learner's permit.
"What about Wade?" she offered. "He just got his license."
"I can't drag Wade into this. This is my mistake. I shouldn't ruin his day."
Although her brothers seemed to share the same brain most of the time, they were very different people in many ways. For instance, Jim would have had no trouble wrangling Wade into giving him a ride, probably with some sweet high-tech bribe. Then another difference between her brothers occurred to Kim.
"So, Jim is going to ski?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I gave him my gear and …" then the obvious struck Tim. "Oh man, that's right, he can't ski."
"I don't want to give you false hope, Tim, but I suspect Angelica will know Jim's not you long before she gets him alone for a kiss."
"Oh, yes, please!"
"However, even if this experiment gets abandoned before they kiss, you're still in major trouble."
"Right," he sighed. "I still went along with it. I still tricked her into thinking he was me."
"Yep," she nodded. His display of maturity, even if it was after-the-fact maturity, had taken the edge off her anger.
For the next several minutes, they discussed the various ways he could attempt to rebuild the trust in their relationship. Finally, Tim started to act and sound something like his normal self, and Kim felt comfortable broaching the original subject for her call.
"I have a favor to ask, Tim."
"Sure, Sis, whatever you want."
"I need you to," she hesitated. Closing her eyes, Kim grit her teeth and took the plunge. "I need you to go through my closet."
"I'm sorry?"
"Please don't make me repeat it, Tim." For most of their shared childhoods, her loft had been unofficially off-limits to her little brothers. However, her closet had been strictly forbidden. Long before the super suit, she had recruited Wade to recommend a security system for her closet that would be 100% Tweeb-proof. And now she was about to reveal the code to Tim. To literally invite the barbarians through the gates.
"Are you sure about this, Kim?"
She nodded, her eyes still closed. "Go through all the boxes, all the bags," she sighed deeply. "It's probably way in the back, but you should go through everything to make sure you find it."
"Okay, what am I looking for?"
She opened her eyes and saw that instead of unbridled relish in her brother's features, there was concern.
"You wear maturity very well, Tim Possible," she smiled.
He shrugged and listened intently as she described what she needed him to find.
After she put her laptop to sleep, Kim stared out her window as the night sky gradually turned amethyst. A few minutes later, she got up to get back in bed. However, as she passed the window, she distinctly heard the flutter of wings.
She sighed as she dropped her head on her pillow. The memory of the sound reverberated in her head. And the sad memories it stirred kept sleep away until the sky was quite blue.
IV.
Early in their friendship, Kim learned that Karin was a major fan of Britina. So, when the pop star's Second Anniversary Farewell Tour came to Tokyo during August break at the end of her Freshman year, Kim had taken Karin to the concert and arranged a meetup backstage after the show. However, as they were on the train to the concert, a disturbing thought had occurred to Kim. Brittina had recently become estranged from her wife, and Kim worried that any emotional undertones during the visit might cause 'complications' for Karin. When she whispered her concern, Karin had smiled.
"Oh, I haven't told you," she whispered back. "My blood doesn't increase anymore."
"What?"
"Yeah, it's been like six months." She beamed and, unfortunately, forgot to whisper, "I'm practically human!"
Fortunately, it was very loud on the train, and no one took notice of Karin's odd comment. Except Kim, who, for the rest of the night, couldn't shake the sense of foreboding her friend's words had given her.
A week later, Kenta Usi—Kim's friend from class and Karin's boyfriend, sent an urgent text for Kim and Ron to meet him at his apartment as soon as possible.
They were horrified by what he had to tell them.
"H-how could they?" Kim yelled. "That's terrible!"
"Why, dude?" Ron managed. "Why would her family do that? It doesn't make any sense."
"Considering Karin's … condition," Kenta had said, struggling to contain his own emotions, "they thought it was the least painful solution-the only way to give her a happy life."
"Where is she?" Kim asked, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
"She's sleeping on my mat." Kenta gestured to his bedroom's shut door. "Anju said that she may sleep as long as twenty hours before … before the process is complete. We shouldn't try to wake her."
"So, is she going to be living with you now?" Ron asked, putting his arm around Kim.
"Uh-huh," Kenta nodded. He then released a fragile laugh. "You know, a few days ago, she made a joke about us getting engaged. When I asked if she was serious, she only blushed and wouldn't answer me."
Kim eased out of Ron's embrace and gave her friend a fierce hug.
"It's earlier than I had anticipated," Kenta continued, "but I think I'm going to ask her when she wakes up." Then he began to choke up.
Kim started crying as well. And as Ron tried to encircle them both in his arms, he, too, lost it.
An hour or so later, Kim and Ron left the apartment in silence. Almost immediately, they were confronted by Karin's grandmother, Elda Marker.
A veritable doppelganger for her granddaughter, Elda had never hidden her disdain for Karin's friends. She got right up in Kim's face and snarled, "Just because my idiot son and that witch he married want to abandon Karin to the human world, don't think for a minute that lets you two off the hook! If either of you spill her secret to anyone—even in your dreams, I will hunt you BOTH down and kill you!"
Ron placed a steadying hand on Kim's shoulder. Logically, Kim would never think to argue with Karin's grandmother. When the Lorwardians had attacked Julian the previous autumn, Elda had backhanded Warhok through the trunk of a tree. Still, considering how emotionally raw Kim was at the moment, the calming gesture was much appreciated. She took a deep breath, placed her hand over Ron's, and stoically accepted every threat and insult Elda threw at them for the next five minutes.
After she was gone, Ron muttered, "How sad is that?"
"Sad?!" Kim spat in disbelief.
"Yeah," Ron nodded. "She's lost her granddaughter and doesn't have a clue on how to deal."
Kim was silent for a while. When it began to rain, she took up her best friend boyfriend's hand, and they began the sad walk home.
Late in the week when they finally saw Karin again, the young woman seemed normal. She cheerily asked them how their week had gone and eagerly told Ron about a new manga series she had discovered. Kim and Ron tried their best to act normal, too, and, for the most part, believe they had pulled it off. As the weeks went by, the undercurrent of awkwardness seemed to fade between them. Still, things were not perfect. Every now and then, Karin would get uncharacteristically sad. Sometimes this would happen quite suddenly. She would be chatting amicably and then just stop mid-sentence. Staring into the middle-distance for a minute or so, she'd wipe at her eyes and apologize for being a 'space cadet' and ask Kim or Ron to repeat what they had been saying.
Contrary to what Elda had said, Karin's family had not abandoned her. Although she could no longer remember them, they didn't forget her. Each member would take turns watching over her on a weekly basis. Once, Kim had spotted Karin's little sister standing atop a lamppost just outside of Julian. She and Anju had exchanged a courteous nod. Kim always knew when it was Elda's week because a fleet of her familiars would track her wherever she went. Elda went so far as to station a squadron outside Kim's apartment window where they would occasionally scratch at the pane, so Kim would never forget they were there.
Kenta and Karin's wedding date was set for early November when his handful of relatives could make it into town. Since she had no family of her own (that she knew of), Karin was sufficiently overwhelmed by the preparations. Kenta's mother did what she could to help, but Karin got easily flustered by it all. Fortunately, Kim always made time to help her friend when she wasn't completely swamped by coursework or on a mission.
One evening a couple of weeks before the wedding, she accompanied Karin on an errand run. She left her alone for a couple of minutes to surreptitiously buy the wedding gift Ron had spotted a few days earlier. When she returned, the young woman was sobbing uncontrollably. Her eyes and nose were running; she had dropped her packages in a futile attempt to dry her face with the ends of her jacket. As Kim rushed to console her, she caught sight of the wares a street kiosk a few feet behind Karin had on display.
Oh no.
Halloween was not a big event in Japan. However, the Western holiday was making inroads in some of the bigger cities with certain shops decorated accordingly. Draped around the kiosk's roof was a string of paper bats. And hanging prominently from its counter was a kitschy cardboard vampire.
"I'm sorry, so sorry, Possible-san—Kim, I don't know why-hic-why I'm so-hic-sad," Karin managed between sobs.
"It's ok, Karin. It's ok."
Kim gathered the packages from the street and led her friend away to an outdoor table at a small corner café. For the next two hours, she did her best to calm Karin. She plied her with warm miso and a dessert from the menu that she knew Karin typically enjoyed. Most of the time, however, she simply let the girl cry into her shoulder. The young woman was completely oblivious to what had suddenly plunged her into despair, but Kim intuited that this time of the year would always be a problem for her friend.
Eventually, Kim led a somewhat recovered Karin back to the new apartment she shared with Kenta. Once Karin fell asleep, she explained what had happened to the girl's fiancé. When she finally left, it was almost eleven.
She had only gotten a few hundred yards when she felt something fly close by her head.
"Human."
Kim stopped and turned toward the sound of Elda Marker's voice. The vampire's voice was low, but Kim knew better than to ask her to speak louder.
"Yes, Elda?"
There was something odd in Karin's grandmother's posture. She hadn't taken a belligerent stance. In fact, she was looking at the ground. Her pink bangs were hanging so low in front of her face that Kim couldn't see the glare from her blood red eyes.
"It pleases me that you are my granddaughter's friend." Each word was spoken as if it had been wrenched out of the older woman.
Kim was taken aback. Before she could even begin to formulate a proper response to this compliment, Elda was gone.
From that night on, no bats ever scratched at Kim's window, and, if any did trail her in the night, they did not make their presence known.
V.
"Why do you think the fungus was sprayed all along these stairs, Doctor?" Jamie asked.
"Most likely to keep anyone from ascending them."
"You don't think it might be a trap," Jamie began but when he noticed a wide-eyed Ron standing a mere three feet away, he lowered his voice to an almost whisper, "to get us going the other way, do you?"
"No. I am more concerned with what the Great Intelligence might be planning."
"What could it be?"
"I don't know, Jamie," the Doctor said pensively. "It depends if there are any significant resources nearby." Suddenly, the Doctor threw up his hands and exclaimed, "Great jumping gobstoppers! I haven't even asked where we are."
"Doctor?" Zoe asked, more than a little concerned that his echoing voice might alert a potential enemy.
"Kim, Ron," he said turning to them, "I know we're in America, but where exactly?"
"Middleton," Ron said.
"Middleton, Colorado," Kim clarified.
"Wait a moment," Zoe said. "That sounds familiar for some reason."
"Are there any fusion reactors in the area? Particle accelerators?" the Doctor suggested.
"I don't think so," Kim replied.
"NORAD?" the Doctor prompted. "Isn't that in Colorado?"
"Yeah, but I think it's a couple hundred miles away," Kim said.
Ron shook his head. "Apart from Bueno Nacho, the only cool place in Middleton is where your dad works, KP."
"Middleton Space Center!" Kim cried. And then cringed at the echo she had inadvertently created.
"That's it, Doctor!" Zoe whispered urgently. "I knew 'Middleton' sounded familiar. Most of the components for the Wheel originated from there."
"Yes, yes," the Doctor nodded. "Kim, Ron, what's the date?"
"Uh, April 16th," Ron answered, a little surprised by the question.
"Oh, it's my birthday," Zoe smiled in surprise.
"Really?" Ron said, turning his head toward the teenager. "How old are you?"
"Depends on what year it is," she replied simply.
"Huh?"
"Yes, Ron, what year is it?" the Doctor urged.
"Are you serious?" Kim asked looking between the Doctor and Zoe.
"Yes, please," the Doctor insisted.
"1999," Kim and Ron said in unison.
"Then I'm negative sixty-four," Zoe said happily.
Once again, the thought of saying 'jinx' didn't occur to either Kim or Ron.
"Too early for space colonization," the Doctor frowned. "Kim, what does the Space Center primarily launch?"
Still trying to come to grips with the implications of these last few exchanges, Kim hesitated. "Satellites. They launch satellites."
"Ah, global communication," the Doctor said. "That must be what he's after." He took the torch from his coat pocket and led the party away from the staircase.
Before long, their beams revealed the outlines of a large wooden crate. As they walked around it, they discovered its fallen lid lying among drifts of shipping peanuts.
"Kim, what does Mr. Paisley do?" the Doctor asked.
"I don't know what his job is or even if he has one," Kim said. "But I do know he collects … stuff."
"What sorts of stuff?" the Doctor asked, taking in the immensity of the crate. When she didn't answer immediately, he prompted, "Art? Statues? Taxidermy?"
"He collects Cuddle Buddies," she said finally.
"Yes, of course, Cuddle Buddies," he replied knowingly. Without changing his expression, he asked, "What are Cuddle Buddies, Kim?"
"Well, they're … toys." She shrugged, "Plush animals."
"And how large are these toys?" he asked.
"Not very," she replied. "Just big enough to snuggle with … or, so I've heard."
"So, you'd say that a crate this size would be … unnecessary?" he asked thoughtfully.
"Most def," she nodded.
"How long ago was this delivered?" Zoe asked.
"Good question," the Doctor nodded. "Jamie, give me a hand with this lid."
As Jamie and the Doctor raised the lid, Kim trained her flashlight on it while Zoe read the label on the front.
"It was shipped from a London address two weeks ago."
"Yes, but when did it arrive here?" the Doctor asked in an agitated voice.
"What does that matter?" Jamie asked.
"Jamie," the Doctor replied as he let go of his share of the lid, leaving the highlander to grapple with its entire weight, "the Great Intelligence can replicate Yeti."
Ron ran to help Jamie with the lid. As he did, the Doctor realized his mistake and quickly resumed his former position. "Sorry, Jamie. This crate could only contain a single one, but if that one has been here for even a few days, there could be dozens roaming these halls!"
"Dozens?" Ron whimpered.
"At least," the Doctor nodded.
After Ron, Jamie, and the Doctor lowered the lid back to the floor, Jamie flicked his torch's light on and off restlessly. "Doctor, let's split up and look for clues."
The Doctor twisted his face and shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Yeah, Dude," Ron agreed. "This night is already a '9' on the Scooby-Doo scale, splitting up would be bad news."
"What does that mean?" Jamie asked, making a face.
"I don't know," the Doctor answered, "but he's right."
Detaching themselves from this bickering, Zoe and Kim had wandered a short distance from the crate. Kim's concern for Mr. Paisley was compelling her to point her flashlight into the far corners of the foyer. Zoe, on the other hand, thought she had heard something.
"Without knowing how long the Intelligence has been entrenched here, we have no idea how strong his forces are," the Doctor was explaining. "Scattering our forces is the last thing we …" and he stopped. "Do you hear that?" he asked nervously.
"Aye," Jamie nodded.
Ron could just make out a faint steady beeping. It sounded like the noise his kitchen phone made whenever he failed to dial Kim's number quickly enough. Initially, it seemed to be coming from everywhere; however, when he focused his attention and closed his eyes, Ron got a better idea of its source. It was coming from behind them and getting closer.
Someone screamed.
"KP?" Ron turned in the direction of the cry and encountered two crimson balls of light that seemed to be floating six feet in mid-air. As they grew brighter, they illuminated the monstrous figure that framed them. Before he could find his voice, the Doctor found his.
"SCATTER!"
VI.
The unmistakable scent of blueberry pancakes surrounded her. Kim smiled reflexively, but she was still ferociously tired. She turned on her side and tried to bury her nose into her pillow. The smell got closer; she kept her eyes shut.
Maybe if I stay perfectly still …
The smell orbited over her head for a couple of moments, but she refused to move. Eventually, it drifted away, but she knew better than to assume victory so early in the game. She then felt a warm sensation on her left hip-almost as if someone had balanced a plateful of pancakes on it.
Keep it together, Possible. You've got this.
A prickly sensation across her cheek jolted her upright.
"No fair!" she cried. "You know the rules, no scruff!"
Ron gave her a mischievous grin. He had managed to catch the plate before it could crash to the floor. And he had saved the pancakes, too. Although that was a pyrrhic victory as far as Kim was concerned. Rufus, perched on his human's right wrist, was making short work of them.
"Sorry, KP," he said, ducking out of the path of a flung pillow. "You just look so cute when you pretend to be asleep—" he caught her second pillow full in the face.
A few minutes later he returned with a new plate and a cup of coffee. She accepted them but continued to glare. She wasn't really upset. Breakfast in bed, especially one prepared by her culinary ninja of a boyfriend was nothing to resent. However, he knew the effect his stubble had on her. Using it against her in that sitch was ferociously unfair. Still, a couple of bites from his pancakes and a sip from his Turkish coffee and even the unsporting use of scruff could be forgiven.
"So, how'd your mom take the news?" He sat on the edge of her bed.
"She wasn't thrilled," Kim admitted. "But she thinks I'm in good hands." She placed her hand on his knee.
Here we go.
She ate a preparatory forkful of pancake and deep drink from her cup. She broached the subject. "Mom also gave me some good advice."
"Really? What about?"
"Well, that's something I need to discuss with you, Ron."
Bee-be-be-beep
"Shoot." She tapped her wrist Kimmunicator and a hologram of Tim appeared. "Oh, hey, Tim. How are things going?"
"Pretty good," he smiled. "Jim got cold feet, too. He admitted who he was before they even got to the lodge."
"And how did she take it?"
"Well, he spun it like he just wanted free skiing lessons. She's not happy, but it could have been much worse."
"Definitely. What have you decided to do to make it up to her?"
"Plan B. And Plan D."
"Good choices," she nodded.
"Should I be confused?" Ron asked.
"Oh, hey, Ron!" Tim's hologram waved.
Ron waved back.
"Yes, you should be, Ron," Kim said. "And, no, we're not going to explain it."
"That's cool," Ron smiled.
"Oh, and I found it, Kim." Tim's hologram held up the desired object.
"Whoa!" Ron exclaimed. "Is that what I think it is?"
"It is," Kim nodded. "Tim, I need you to get that to Wade as soon as you can. I want full diagnostics run."
"Really, Sis?"
"Yes." Her tone was no-nonsense.
"It's just some flute."
"Actually," Ron corrected him, "it's a recorder."
To be continued …
