=All-Purpose Disclaimer=
Kim Possible contains seven essential nutrients and vitamins, and is part of this complete breakfast. When served with Ron Stoppable, she produces the daily recommended value of no profit, and may reduce the risk of heart disease and vehicular meteoroid assault.
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Kim Possible
The Power of Love
by Cyberwraith9
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Kim moaned softly, clutching her aching ribcage as she walked down the lowered ramp of their hoverjet. Her uniform was torn in several places, and she had a minor burn running across the top of her thigh that stung like the dickens. Her hair was tussled and scorched in a few places, and she felt like crap. Actually, she felt more like something that aspired to be crap.
Will limped behind her, putting on a brave front that hid the minor fracture that lanced with agony every time he took a step. "Well," he groaned, "That could have gone better, yes?"
She glanced back at him, wondering if she looked as bad as he did. 'Definitely looking 'up' to crap at this point,' she thought to herself. Out loud, she simply grunted, feeling the aftereffects of their latest mission, both internally and externally.
It had seemed simple enough: Shego, along with a bunch of Drakken's new goons/allies, had been spotted rampaging around Nebraska's famous House of Corn. There had been no rhyme or reason to the attack, and so GJ had sent in their two specialists when it came to that bunch. Kim had expected a fairly quick victory. What she had gotten was a butt-whooping like none other. It wasn't just that they were outnumbered…something had seemed off in Kim's tempo. Her rhythm was all screwed up, and she couldn't figure out why.
"Well," Will continued, oblivious to her obliviousness, "We can always hope for next time, eh?"
"Sure," Kim muttered, clutching at her ribs. "Next time." Her stomach, which had suffered only a moderate beating, suddenly gurgled with the desire for an age old tradition. Glancing back at her partner, she asked, "Bueno Nacho?"
He stopped for a moment, considering her words. "Good…nacho…" he mulled her odd choice of Spanish over for a moment until the meaning finally struck him. "Oh, the restaurant! Um…" he grimaced at the thought of the greasy menu, then tried to cover his disdain as best he could. He wasn't very good at it. "Perhaps…another time." he said lamely.
"Right…" she sighed, disappointed. It was probably for the best, anyway. She entered the lift as Will started the hoverjet's shutdown procedure. As the doors closed, her hand slipped into her pocket, and she felt a small, thin edge of cardboard press against her skin. The elevator accelerated upwards, leaving her alone in quiet thought as she withdrew the cheerful, colorful postcard.
On the front was a sunny picture of the House of Corn; the owner had been grateful that she and Will had chased the trouble off, and eagerly granted her request for the ten-cent card. At the time, she wasn't really sure why she had picked it up. She suspected, however, and now she was sure…she had gotten the card for Ron. She could just imagine herself giving him the card now. It was a small token, but at least it was a starting point.
'Hey KP,' Ron's voice echoed in her weary mind as she leaned against the cold metal of the elevator, playing out the scene with her imagination. 'Wha'cha got there?'
"Nothing much." She replied aloud with a wan smile. "Just something I picked up on my last mission. It made me think of you."
'Wow. Pictures of corn. I'm flattered.' Ron would say as he took the card, grinning like he always did. He'd brush the cute stray locks of yellow hair the color of Nebraska from his eyes, which would sparkle with his trademark humor. 'More escapades with Will Doofus?'
Her smile became a real one as the elevator doors opened, allowing her to walk slowly out of the tiny enclosure. Her eyes were half-lidded, still in the haze of her daydream. "'Fraid so," she heard herself reply as she walked down the hall. "Um, Ron…There's something I kinda wanted to say…"
"If it's about the crappy gift, don't worry," Ron would laugh as he fanned himself with the postcard. By then, Rufus would already be on his shoulder, snatching the card from his grasp to examine it himself. "I forgive you."
As Kim reached her door, she felt a hot, wet sensation sting against her eyes. "I hope so…" she murmured, entering the hollow flat with a new sense of purpose.
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Shego walked proudly with a light limp into Drakken's dark lab, savoring the sharp twinge she felt every time her left foot struck the metallic floor plating. She had hurt herself back at the fight in Nebraska, but it had been worth it to catch Kimmie square in the breadbasket. "Mission complete, Doc." she announced loudly, lacing her fingers together and cracking her knuckles.
Drakken, seated at the main console, swiveled in his chair with a look of glee on his twisted features. "And Global Justice doesn't suspect anything?"
"As far as they know," she reported, "We were there to raid the gift shop."
"Excellent!" he crowed, turning back to the central monitor, a gigantic screen that nearly reached from floor to ceiling. Currently displayed was a barebones map of the Midwest, with a soft, steady pulsing light smack dab in the center of Nebraska. "With the remote transceiver to guide it, my Drak Force Five will be all the faster and incapable of being redirected! And best of all, Kim Possible and her dopey sidekick are completely unaware!"
"Actually," Shego mused softly as she rubbed her chin, "I didn't see the dopey sidekick at the fight this time…she just brought that glorified milksop from Global Justice, Will-something."
Drakken waved off the inconsequential information. "No matter," he assured his henchwoman. His tiny black gloves curled into fists as an ominous smile spread across his scarred, hideous features. "Very soon, the world will be mine. And there isn't a single thing that Kim Possible or any of her sidekicks can do to stop me." He threw back his head, cackling with glee at the mere thought of the utter devastation he was about to unleash.
"Uh huh…So now what?" Shego said, bored already with Drakken's inexplicable exposition.
Turning quickly, Drakken was on his feet and pacing in a flash. "Tell Long and his goons to prepare a small task force of those Doom-Bots I had Lucre place an order for. Then load them onto the Drakkenator, and set coordinates for London."
"We're going to London?" Shego asked, choosing not to comment on his pathetic choice of vehicular nomenclature. "Ugh. It's so boring! And the food there…who makes a pie out of-"
"Not us, dear Shego," Drakken corrected her, rubbing his palms together with a sinister look. "Just our…distraction. Oh, and prep the communications' array. We need to send a signal out…"
"Signal? To who?" Shego asked, confused.
His smile threatened to split his face. "To Global Justice…"
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Kim faced down mutant warriors without batting an eye. She battled with giant robots a hundred stories tall and kept her cool. She had survived a hundred missions that would make trained professionals sweat, and all without even smudging her lip gloss. But walking down a simple lane with homey family stores on either side of her, she felt more butterflies twisting her stomach into knots than all of her other adventures combined had ever given her.
The semi-familiar streets of Dreidleton were easy enough to navigate, but she took her time anyway. A simple gray sweatshirt kept her warm against the late September chill along with her old, comfortable olive cargos. It was appropriate that half of her attire was her old mission outfit…the tension swimming in her head made it feel halfway like a mission anyway.
'What do I say?' Kim agonized, tucking her hands into the hoodie's front pocket. Part of her was still mad at Ron for all of the things he had said, and the other part felt like the world's biggest heel for all of the things 'she' had said. And despite their differences, both of her halves missed Ron. But did he miss her?
"Kimberly?"
The vaguely familiar voice beckoned her from outside of a kosher deli. She snapped out of her inner dialogue, looking over at a portly man seated on a barrel behind a pristine chessboard. A battered old hat covered his thinning blonde hair, and his bushy mustache wiggled with a smile as she approached. "Mr. Stoppable?" she asked.
"Oh come on," Don Stoppable scoffed, standing to greet the redhead as she took the barrel opposite his. "I've known you since you were six years old, you little munchkin. If you're too old to call me 'Uncle Don', then I guess I'll have to start calling you 'Ms. Possible'."
It was true; Kim could remember summers when Uncle Don would be visiting up at the Stoppable residence. He'd always have some interesting toy, or a dollar on hand for both her and Ron, and had always treated her as a niece, regardless of genetics. "Uncle Don," she smiled, sitting down on the uncomfortable seat. She felt some of the uneasiness vanish from her. It was soothing to know that there was at least one Stoppable that didn't hate her. "How've you been?"
"I can't complain," he said, chucking his thumb back at the eatery behind him. "Business has been good…But not so good that I can't whup you in a game of chess like I used to at those awful family parties Ron used to drag you along to." Kim watched him make the first move and then stare at her expectantly. "What? Too good to play a friendly game with an old man?"
She felt a stab of guilt rise up as she moved her queen-side pawn out to meet his. The corner of the postcard poked at her belly, reminding her of just why she came to Dreidleton. Then again, gathering intel wasn't a bad idea. "Never," she replied evenly. "It's just that I have some place I kinda have to be…"
"I wouldn't worry," Don assured her, countering with a move of his own. "I've never needed more than ten minutes to beat you before."
"That was different." Kim insisted as the game progressed. She made her moves quickly, never taking her eyes from the board. It was Don that had taught her how to play the game when she was little.
"Oh?"
She smiled again, trapping his bishop on the left side of the board. "I always had Ron as a partner." she replied.
Don couldn't help but chuckle at this. "The boy never was any good at chess, was he? Never had the patience for it. Sometimes I think he's pure impulse." He cast a sly glance at her as he took a pawn, removing it with his trademark Stoppable flourish. "Anyway, I hear you run with a 'new' partner nowadays."
Kim stopped, looking up at him. He pretended to study the board, keeping his face carefully neutral. "That's right. I work for Global Justice now." she said, moving a piece thoughtlessly.
"Fine people," Don agreed readily, capitalizing on Kim's distraction. "And anyway, the family's much happier to have him out of danger."
"What about Ron?" Kim asked with feigned innocence, trying to recover from Don's new offense on the board. Her features were carefully guarded as she said, "He hasn't been all that happy, has he?"
"I suppose you would know better than I would, Kimmie." Don replied. "You're his best friend. He must have said something."
"He might have mentioned it." Kim muttered. Suddenly, she looked up, and the game was over; Don's forces had her king pinned down from every side, with nowhere to go and no hope of rescue.
Sighing, the elder Stoppable leaned back, rubbing his sweaty forehead. "Listen, Kim…let's stop playing games."
"You won."
"That's not what I mean, and you know it." he snapped. "Ron's a wreck right now."
"Don't you think I know that?" she replied. She stood up, crossing her arms defensively. "Ron's the one that told me to take this stupid job, and the only reason I wanted it was so I could get out of the dorm. I didn't know that our missions meant that much to him!"
Don sighed again, rubbing his face in an exhausted manner. "Kimberly…You've always been a bright girl," he told her proudly. Her expression softened slightly as he continued, "But you have this annoying habit of being completely oblivious to other people's feelings."
"What do you mean?"
"Ron doesn't need missions." Don told her straight out. "He doesn't need a job. He needs his best friend."
Kim had nothing to say to this. She simply stood there, watching Don reset the board calmly, moving the pieces back to where they belonged. "I…" She searched for words, an explanation for what she had done, any at all. But a reason wasn't forthcoming, and she wasn't surprised.
A sudden beeping at her hip alerted her. She took one look at Don, who shrugged helplessly, before pulling out her Communicator. "Go Wa…I mean, what's the sitch, Will?"
Will's face rezzed onto the screen, looking even more serious than usual. "Kim, we need you to report to HQ immediately. Take the pneumatic tubeulator on third, it's only a few blocks from your position."
Headquarters? She hadn't been to headquarters yet, at least not since being inducted. A small sliver of excitement pierced her gloomy veil, but she quickly stamped it out; if they were bringing her to HQ, then something was definitely amiss. "What's going on?"
"It's Drakken. At least," he added, "It could be. I'll explain when you get here. Hurry." With that, he cut communications.
Kim replaced the device at her hip, looking apologetically at her pseudo-relative. "Sorry Uncle Don," she said, "But-"
He raised his hands. "Say no more. It's your job." His voice was neutral, yet it still filled Kim with an even greater sense of guilt. Could all adults do that, or just the ones she knew? "Go get 'em, Kimmie."
With one last goodbye, she took off in a sprint for the hidden tube that would whoosh her away to Global Justice Network's local center. 'Sorry, Ron,' she thought to herself with a pang of sadness. 'It'll have to wait until I get back.'
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Ron sneezed violently into his hands, thankfully missing the glasses he was preparing. "Someone must be talking about me," he muttered, pouring out lemonades for each of his guests. He walked around his counter and into the living room, where a small riot was tearing his meager furniture apart.
"Hoo sha!" Jim crowed as he tugged at his controller, sending his electronic avatar flying across the screen and into another. "I'm totally whomping you!"
"Of course you are," Monique groused, pecking at her own controller with confusion as she had the electronic tar pounded out of her. "I have no idea what I'm doing here."
"That's for sure," Tim snickered, joining in with his brother's cruel video antics. "It's like you've never even played X-Cubestation before."
"Look," she groused, biting her lower lip as the twins pounded the holy snot out of her character, "Unless there's a video game that involves coordinating outfits, you're pretty much guaranteed to beat me."
"And how!" Jim laughed, until the fourth character in the game grabbed hold of a power bomb and torched his player. "Hey!"
"Mwa-ha-ha-ha!" Rufus sniggered, dancing on his controller and using his tiny claws to send massive amounts of electronic death to the twins. "Flawless!"
Monique gratefully accepted the lemonade from Ron, setting her now-useless controller aside as she watched her character get torn to shreds. "Thanks."
"No big," Ron shrugged with a smile. "I'm just glad to have the company. Rufus and I've been pretty lonely since…" He trailed off, looking down and away. Rufus, having won the match, looked up with big sad eyes as Ron finished lamely, "Since, y'know."
"Yeesh," Mon patted him on the cheek, "Cheer up already." She spied a familiar blue object sitting on his table, and snatched it up eagerly. "Ooh, check me out." She crossed her arms, holding the Kimmunicator in a rakish fashion. "Remind you of anyone?" she asked with sultry lips and half-lidded eyes.
He raised a brow at her antics, walking away as the twins started a new match against the reigning rodent champion. "I'd never think that low of you, Monique."
"Ouch," she winced, dropping her arms. "Harsh much?" She watched him prepare a small snack tray with uncanny diligence. His hands chopped angrily against some fresh veggies, blurring with such speed that she wondered if they'd have to take him to the emergency room with his fingers in a plastic bag with ice. "I take it you haven't gotten any calls to save the world anymore."
"Haven't you heard?" he remarked snidely as he diced a carrot into inedible particles. "I'm out of the sidekick business. Now I'm just an unemployed waiter."
She eyed him suspiciously. Moving closer, she wrapped her arms around his waist in a casual manner, resting her chin on his shoulder. "So why keep this?" she asked, waving the Kimmunicator in front of his face as he continued to ruin perfectly good food.
"Fine." he snapped brusquely, not even flinching as she pressed up against him. "Take it. It's yours. Happy Sucky-September Day, or whatever holiday you want today to be."
She pulled away, looking sadly at him. "You really miss her, don't you?" she asked quietly.
Ron's chopping stopped abruptly. He tossed the knife down, turning around and jabbing at her with an undamaged carrot in hand. "No," he said between his teeth, "As a matter of fact, I don't. I've been a social leech on the Kim Possible hiney long enough. It's time for me to set out on my own, and become my own man." He took a big bite out of the carrot, chewing noisily with grinding teeth. "I don't need some self-important, pushy, loudmouth uppity redhead telling me what to do day in and day out. Who needs her?"
She snickered. "Whatever you say, Cleopatra." She turned back to the living room, calling out to the boys. "Hey Tweebs, boot up my character again. I wanna give Ultra Squish Siblings another try!"
Ron watched her move back to the game, taking another bite of his carrot. Where did Monique get off judging him anyway? Who did she think she was, Kim? Well, he didn't need any more pushy women in his life. And what did she mean by…
He suddenly got it. "Oh. Cleopatra. Queen of de-Nile. Ha ha, very funny," he sneered, moving back to food preparation. "Just watch that joke," he muttered quietly, taking the knife up again, "It's an antique."
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A strange, green wave pattern wobbled on Global Justice Headquarters' main screen, the GJHQMS (so dubbed by the Global Justice Redundant Categorization Department, or GJRCD), baffling GJ's analysts and scientists in its origins or purpose. Kim, clad in her confining mission clothes, stood in the central alcove, leaning against a large circular table with GJ's seal embossed on it as she studied the signal.
"We've been receiving this for almost half an hour now," Will explained, leaning next to her and similarly clad. His brow was heavy with concentration and foreboding. "It's some kind of carrier wave, we think, originating," he reached forward with a small remote in hand, switching the wave analysis to a global map, "From a specific point in the Pacific Ocean." A small, flashing indicator marked the theoretical location of their mysterious signal.
"What was the wave carrying?" Kim asked, scowling at the isolated spot.
"This."
Pressing his remote once more, the large map vanished, replaced with an infuriating picture of Doctor Drakken. The scientist stood on some kind of gantry, surrounded by his fiendish allies; Monkey Fist, Killigan, Long and his cronies, the Seniors, and Shego. Half of Lucre's posterior was in the picture, as if he had set the timer on the camera, but was too slow to make it into the frame. Behind all of them stood the stolen nuclear missile, now painted a dastardly blue with black trim. Something was written along the side of the rocket, but she couldn't quite make it out.
"Doctor Drakken…" Kim's teeth gnashed involuntarily. She felt her fists clenching down by her hips. "He's refitted the missile…"
"No doubt, using the technology your 'friend' let him acquire back in Hong Kong." Will added needlessly. "We've cross-referenced with our global satellites; there's no land mass at those coordinates, which would suggest possibly a sub-oceanic or even mobile base."
"Are we sending in a full team?" she asked, pointedly ignoring the jab at Ron. She ached to bring Drakken down and end the crisis, if for no other reason then to put her life back in order.
"Negative." He shook his head, returning the monitor to its wave analysis and setting the control aside. "You and I will go in for reconnaissance and assess the situation. Doctor Director will then act accordingly, based on the data we give her. We don't want to send agents into a full-blown trap…"
"Not when two will be an acceptable loss," Kim grimaced.
Will raised his brow at the comment, but let it pass. "We launch in ten. I'll have our hoverjet loaded with the aquatic equipment we'll need." He cast one last, unreadable glance back at her before he exited, leaving Kim to study the mysterious wave alone.
Every instinct she possessed told her this was a trap. The only question was, how clever of a trap was it? For, if Drakken really 'was' transmitting from his own lair, that would give GJ the coordinates they needed to level the place from orbit, eliminating the threat. If not… "Just have to think on our feet, huh Ro…" She stopped herself, rubbing the bridge of her nose in irritation at the slip. Luckily, no one was around to notice…or so she thought.
A gentle hand grasped her shoulder as a familiar, feminine voice murmured, "Well, we meet at last, Agent Possible."
Kim turned, gasped, and snapped into an attentive salute at the sight of Doctor Director herself. The older woman chuckled a bit, returning the salute and motioning for Kim to drop the kay-det act. "Doctor Director," Kim managed to say, "I'm sorry, I'm just a little surprised to see you."
"And I'm surprised I haven't seen you," she smiled, prompting Kim to do the same. "We've been busy with this Drakken mess…But you know all about that." As Kim nodded, a sudden thought occurred to the elder agent. "Oh, congratulations, by the way. So far, you're on your way to becoming one of our top agents." She smirked, and said, "Not bad for two weeks worth of work, eh?"
"Thank you," Kim blushed lightly, nodding with humility. "It's no big, really."
"I have to say, though," Doctor Director added, "I was surprised Stoppable didn't take our offer."
Time seemed to freeze as Kim blinked, taking the words into her system. They settled at the bottom of her stomach, spreading a bitter feeling through her body. "E-Excuse me?" she muttered hoarsely. Perhaps she had heard wrong, or misunderstood, or-
"Our offer," Doctor Director reiterated, crossing her arms as she leaned casually against the grand table. "You know, to join Global Justice along with you. Had to read Agent Du's report twice just to convince myself that he turned us down. I was sure you two would be a package deal."
The world spun around Kim's head as she steadied herself against the table. "You mean you guys 'wanted' Ron?" she asked slowly, finding a bit more of her voice amidst the confusion. It couldn't be what she thought it was…it just couldn't be!
"Oh, sure," Doctor Director said, staring up at the wave pattern screen in idle thought. "Stoppable's a little rough around the edges, but the boy has great instincts." She smiled at Kim as she unknowingly shattered the last of Kim's self-denial. "Besides, it was a shame to break up such an effective team."
"Yeah," the teen agent croaked.
The Director shrugged. "Still," she said, "You and Will seem to be hitting it off pretty well." Her good eye shifted with confusion as she frowned. "Didn't Will approach you both at the same time?"
"Oh," Kim said quickly, still sorting everything out, "No, he, uh…He must have caught Ron at a different time."
"Well," Doctor Director shrugged again, "After this Drakken situation is handled, I want you to take a week off. You've been putting in a lot of voluntary training time in. Go spend some time with Stoppable, or something." Kim was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she missed the Director's sly, knowing smile. "Our logs haven't registered a visit from the boy since you moved in."
"He couldn't get an access pass," Kim muttered distractedly. "Too much paperwork."
The Director snorted at this. "Well sure," she said, "If you're a civilian. An agent can request a pass for any civvy and have it in under twenty-four hours tops." She frowned once more, looking skeptical. "Du was supposed to brief you on things like this."
Kim's voice was barely audible. "Must've slipped his mind."
"I'll have security run a pass for him ASAP." Doctor Director smiled warmly, clapping her on the shoulder. "It'll be ready by the time you get back."
"I…I'd…better get going." Kim said quickly, feeling a mass of bile pushing against her throat.
Doctor Director tossed her a salute, which Kim returned hurriedly. "Good luck, Agent Possible." she smiled with confidence in her prodigy. "And good hunting." With that, she turned back to the signal analysis, completely missing the look of despair that crossed the features of her newest agent.
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Will shifted uncomfortably against his flight harness, gripping the control yoke of their hoverjet with white knuckles. They zipped over the ocean at several times the speed of sound, which still didn't explain the complete stillness in the tiny cockpit. They were twenty minutes into the flight, and Kim hadn't said a word; she just stared out the view port with a glazed-over expression.
Any attempt he made at conversation was met with total silence. Any question was answered monosyllabically. He was trained in field psychology, reading expressions, but her poker face was absolute. Nothing slipped through her rocky exterior.
"We are about five minutes from the target," Will said as he unlatched his harness and lifted it over his head. "We should…" Kim hadn't moved or looked in his direction at the sound of his voice. She just stared off into space, watching the blue-green water roll beneath them at Mach speed. Steeling himself, Will employed the same tactic he applied to everything else in his life; the direct approach. "Kim," he said with soft concern, "Is something wrong?"
Without moving, Kim asked in a hauntingly calm tone, "When were you going to tell me?"
He blinked in confusion. "I'm sorry," he said slowly, "I'll keep you better appraised of our ETAs from now on-"
"When were you going to tell me Ron was supposed to be an agent too?"
Kim watched from the corner of her eye as the color drained from Will's face, and felt a small slice of satisfaction adrift in the churning ocean of her anger. For several seconds, all he could do was stutter helplessly and babble incoherently. she turned to face him, struggling to keep her face expressionless.
"I…I didn't…You weren't…"
"You must have known I'd find out eventually." she said with an air of rationality she didn't feel. "Why did you tell Ron GJ wasn't interested in him?" Her voice rose slowly as she straightened her slouch, facing him tall and proud.
Will struggled for a moment more before he calmed down, mirroring her placid front. "I did it for you." he told her evenly. Ignoring her look of total incredulity, he continued, "I saw an intelligent, talented young woman in her prime being held back by a bumbling, useless nobody. I saw what you could become, and it tore me up inside to know that, as long as he was around, you'd never achieve what you could on your own."
The senior agent watched his partner digest his painful, heartfelt admission. Her blank face did not change as she said, "Don't lie to me. Don't you dare sit there and lie to my face." A crack appeared in her façade, betraying a powerful burst of anger as she snapped, "Do you think I'm stupid?"
"I needed a partner!" The reply exploded from Will as he lost the contest of bottled emotions. "I needed a partner, and I wanted the best. I've watched you for years, and I wanted you, but I knew I would never have you as long as that buffoon-"
Now Kim didn't even try to hide her rage. "Don't call him that!" she raised her voice, leaning in dangerously. Her emerald eyes blazed with cold fire, boring into Will with the intensity of a gunshot. "What gave you the right to decide-"
"I had to!" Will insisted again. "Kim, for quite some time now, I've been in love with-"
"Love?" she burst, throwing her hands up. "How can you love me? she demanded, "You don't even know me!"
"I don't understand why you're even mad," he shot back with genuine confusion. "I mean, I didn't 'make' Stoppable yell at you at the restaurant, did I? I didn't make him say any of those awful things to you, but he did! Do you remember all that?"
"You lied to me!" she shouted.
"You aren't even speaking to him anymore!" Will shouted back.
"That doesn't mean I don't still care about him!" Kim ripped her flight harness off, standing up and looming over Will as she continued to shout. "Ron and I have fought hundreds of times! He's always ticking me off, or saying something dumb, or embarrassing me! That doesn't mean I don't still love him!"
The words hung in the air between the two teens with all the weight of an anvil. Kim's lower lip trembled as she brought her hand to her mouth. Her eyes widened, even as Will's narrowed.
"So that's how it is." he said softly. His jaw tightened. He looked back out of the view port, then back at the instrumentation. Their little spat had carried them the rest of the way; the autopilot was now slowing their extreme velocity, and would soon bring them to hover just a few meters over the ocean's churning surface. "We're nearly there. We should gear up. We still have a job to do."
And with that, he left Kim standing in the cockpit, alone with her chaotic thoughts.
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Even through her foggy face mask, Kim couldn't help but marvel at Drakken's latest lair. It was an enormous undersea dome, with windows and portholes spaced evenly about its turtle-like shell. The metallic dome sat atop a broad, circular platform, which in turn sat atop what appeared to be a pneumatic shaft.
"Impressive." Will breathed through his radio/air feed. "It appears to rise and submerge upon command."
"No wonder we haven't been able to find him," Kim breathed in sharply.
Will ignored her, even more businesslike than usual. "We need to get closer. I want a look inside that thing." He kicked his webbed fins, pressing ahead. Like Kim, he was weighed down with dark deep-diving gear designed to be inconspicuous, but they were both strong swimmers, and didn't have much trouble navigating beneath the waves.
"Shouldn't we call for back-"
"No. We can handle this." Will replied snappishly.
The surface of the dome loomed closer, betraying the actual size of the complex. Kim was loathe to admit it, but she was truly impressed with Drakken's set-up this time. Coming at the lair from above, she could even see a large, circular door set in the exact center of the dome. That, she surmised, must be the launch door for his missile.
Swimming in further, they soon grew close enough to actually skim the surface of the expansive dome. The metal was cold beneath Kim's gloved fingertips, but not as cold as she expected for this depth. "So how do we get in?"
Will was about to reply when the seamless surface of the dome split suddenly beneath them, pulling at them with an irresistible current. The change in the waters was too sudden to fight; Kim helplessly watched the bubbles from her mask swirl about her as she and Will were sucked into the dome and down into its inky depths.
The world spun about her as she and Will were forced into a narrow channel, bumping and slamming against the inside of a twisting, turning metal cylinder. Kim tried desperately to get her bearings, to fight against the current…anything! But she was helpless, and she hated that feeling more than anything.
After an eternity of bumping and flowing, the pair were dumped unceremoniously into clean, dry air, slamming hard against the metal grating that caught them and allowed the thousands of gallons they had been captured with to pour out around them.
As soon as the last of the water had let up, Kim stood and tore her mask away, slamming her fist against the release catch of her scuba gear. Will was just a moment behind her as they kicked their fins off, looking around the darkened, featureless room.
"Where are we?" Will grunted, spitting up a fair amount of seawater.
A sudden spotlight was their answer, providing them with painful illumination. Kim squinted against the bright light, shielding her eyes with her hand as she looked about the room. She almost wished she was as clueless as Will, who could only blink and moan against the sudden photonic assault.
"Welcome, Kim Possible," Drakken greeted her from the edge of the room, standing with his arms folded arrogantly.
Continuing her circle, Kim spotted nine other figures in the room, each of them familiar, and each of them armed. Shego, Lucre, Monkey Fist, Killigan, Long, Claymore, Falchion, and the Senior family, all grinning at her with the same sinister smile.
Drakken tilted his head, continuing with a gracious expression of victory. "You're just in time for the end of the world."
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Kim Possible contains seven essential nutrients and vitamins, and is part of this complete breakfast. When served with Ron Stoppable, she produces the daily recommended value of no profit, and may reduce the risk of heart disease and vehicular meteoroid assault.
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Kim Possible
The Power of Love
by Cyberwraith9
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Kim moaned softly, clutching her aching ribcage as she walked down the lowered ramp of their hoverjet. Her uniform was torn in several places, and she had a minor burn running across the top of her thigh that stung like the dickens. Her hair was tussled and scorched in a few places, and she felt like crap. Actually, she felt more like something that aspired to be crap.
Will limped behind her, putting on a brave front that hid the minor fracture that lanced with agony every time he took a step. "Well," he groaned, "That could have gone better, yes?"
She glanced back at him, wondering if she looked as bad as he did. 'Definitely looking 'up' to crap at this point,' she thought to herself. Out loud, she simply grunted, feeling the aftereffects of their latest mission, both internally and externally.
It had seemed simple enough: Shego, along with a bunch of Drakken's new goons/allies, had been spotted rampaging around Nebraska's famous House of Corn. There had been no rhyme or reason to the attack, and so GJ had sent in their two specialists when it came to that bunch. Kim had expected a fairly quick victory. What she had gotten was a butt-whooping like none other. It wasn't just that they were outnumbered…something had seemed off in Kim's tempo. Her rhythm was all screwed up, and she couldn't figure out why.
"Well," Will continued, oblivious to her obliviousness, "We can always hope for next time, eh?"
"Sure," Kim muttered, clutching at her ribs. "Next time." Her stomach, which had suffered only a moderate beating, suddenly gurgled with the desire for an age old tradition. Glancing back at her partner, she asked, "Bueno Nacho?"
He stopped for a moment, considering her words. "Good…nacho…" he mulled her odd choice of Spanish over for a moment until the meaning finally struck him. "Oh, the restaurant! Um…" he grimaced at the thought of the greasy menu, then tried to cover his disdain as best he could. He wasn't very good at it. "Perhaps…another time." he said lamely.
"Right…" she sighed, disappointed. It was probably for the best, anyway. She entered the lift as Will started the hoverjet's shutdown procedure. As the doors closed, her hand slipped into her pocket, and she felt a small, thin edge of cardboard press against her skin. The elevator accelerated upwards, leaving her alone in quiet thought as she withdrew the cheerful, colorful postcard.
On the front was a sunny picture of the House of Corn; the owner had been grateful that she and Will had chased the trouble off, and eagerly granted her request for the ten-cent card. At the time, she wasn't really sure why she had picked it up. She suspected, however, and now she was sure…she had gotten the card for Ron. She could just imagine herself giving him the card now. It was a small token, but at least it was a starting point.
'Hey KP,' Ron's voice echoed in her weary mind as she leaned against the cold metal of the elevator, playing out the scene with her imagination. 'Wha'cha got there?'
"Nothing much." She replied aloud with a wan smile. "Just something I picked up on my last mission. It made me think of you."
'Wow. Pictures of corn. I'm flattered.' Ron would say as he took the card, grinning like he always did. He'd brush the cute stray locks of yellow hair the color of Nebraska from his eyes, which would sparkle with his trademark humor. 'More escapades with Will Doofus?'
Her smile became a real one as the elevator doors opened, allowing her to walk slowly out of the tiny enclosure. Her eyes were half-lidded, still in the haze of her daydream. "'Fraid so," she heard herself reply as she walked down the hall. "Um, Ron…There's something I kinda wanted to say…"
"If it's about the crappy gift, don't worry," Ron would laugh as he fanned himself with the postcard. By then, Rufus would already be on his shoulder, snatching the card from his grasp to examine it himself. "I forgive you."
As Kim reached her door, she felt a hot, wet sensation sting against her eyes. "I hope so…" she murmured, entering the hollow flat with a new sense of purpose.
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Shego walked proudly with a light limp into Drakken's dark lab, savoring the sharp twinge she felt every time her left foot struck the metallic floor plating. She had hurt herself back at the fight in Nebraska, but it had been worth it to catch Kimmie square in the breadbasket. "Mission complete, Doc." she announced loudly, lacing her fingers together and cracking her knuckles.
Drakken, seated at the main console, swiveled in his chair with a look of glee on his twisted features. "And Global Justice doesn't suspect anything?"
"As far as they know," she reported, "We were there to raid the gift shop."
"Excellent!" he crowed, turning back to the central monitor, a gigantic screen that nearly reached from floor to ceiling. Currently displayed was a barebones map of the Midwest, with a soft, steady pulsing light smack dab in the center of Nebraska. "With the remote transceiver to guide it, my Drak Force Five will be all the faster and incapable of being redirected! And best of all, Kim Possible and her dopey sidekick are completely unaware!"
"Actually," Shego mused softly as she rubbed her chin, "I didn't see the dopey sidekick at the fight this time…she just brought that glorified milksop from Global Justice, Will-something."
Drakken waved off the inconsequential information. "No matter," he assured his henchwoman. His tiny black gloves curled into fists as an ominous smile spread across his scarred, hideous features. "Very soon, the world will be mine. And there isn't a single thing that Kim Possible or any of her sidekicks can do to stop me." He threw back his head, cackling with glee at the mere thought of the utter devastation he was about to unleash.
"Uh huh…So now what?" Shego said, bored already with Drakken's inexplicable exposition.
Turning quickly, Drakken was on his feet and pacing in a flash. "Tell Long and his goons to prepare a small task force of those Doom-Bots I had Lucre place an order for. Then load them onto the Drakkenator, and set coordinates for London."
"We're going to London?" Shego asked, choosing not to comment on his pathetic choice of vehicular nomenclature. "Ugh. It's so boring! And the food there…who makes a pie out of-"
"Not us, dear Shego," Drakken corrected her, rubbing his palms together with a sinister look. "Just our…distraction. Oh, and prep the communications' array. We need to send a signal out…"
"Signal? To who?" Shego asked, confused.
His smile threatened to split his face. "To Global Justice…"
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Kim faced down mutant warriors without batting an eye. She battled with giant robots a hundred stories tall and kept her cool. She had survived a hundred missions that would make trained professionals sweat, and all without even smudging her lip gloss. But walking down a simple lane with homey family stores on either side of her, she felt more butterflies twisting her stomach into knots than all of her other adventures combined had ever given her.
The semi-familiar streets of Dreidleton were easy enough to navigate, but she took her time anyway. A simple gray sweatshirt kept her warm against the late September chill along with her old, comfortable olive cargos. It was appropriate that half of her attire was her old mission outfit…the tension swimming in her head made it feel halfway like a mission anyway.
'What do I say?' Kim agonized, tucking her hands into the hoodie's front pocket. Part of her was still mad at Ron for all of the things he had said, and the other part felt like the world's biggest heel for all of the things 'she' had said. And despite their differences, both of her halves missed Ron. But did he miss her?
"Kimberly?"
The vaguely familiar voice beckoned her from outside of a kosher deli. She snapped out of her inner dialogue, looking over at a portly man seated on a barrel behind a pristine chessboard. A battered old hat covered his thinning blonde hair, and his bushy mustache wiggled with a smile as she approached. "Mr. Stoppable?" she asked.
"Oh come on," Don Stoppable scoffed, standing to greet the redhead as she took the barrel opposite his. "I've known you since you were six years old, you little munchkin. If you're too old to call me 'Uncle Don', then I guess I'll have to start calling you 'Ms. Possible'."
It was true; Kim could remember summers when Uncle Don would be visiting up at the Stoppable residence. He'd always have some interesting toy, or a dollar on hand for both her and Ron, and had always treated her as a niece, regardless of genetics. "Uncle Don," she smiled, sitting down on the uncomfortable seat. She felt some of the uneasiness vanish from her. It was soothing to know that there was at least one Stoppable that didn't hate her. "How've you been?"
"I can't complain," he said, chucking his thumb back at the eatery behind him. "Business has been good…But not so good that I can't whup you in a game of chess like I used to at those awful family parties Ron used to drag you along to." Kim watched him make the first move and then stare at her expectantly. "What? Too good to play a friendly game with an old man?"
She felt a stab of guilt rise up as she moved her queen-side pawn out to meet his. The corner of the postcard poked at her belly, reminding her of just why she came to Dreidleton. Then again, gathering intel wasn't a bad idea. "Never," she replied evenly. "It's just that I have some place I kinda have to be…"
"I wouldn't worry," Don assured her, countering with a move of his own. "I've never needed more than ten minutes to beat you before."
"That was different." Kim insisted as the game progressed. She made her moves quickly, never taking her eyes from the board. It was Don that had taught her how to play the game when she was little.
"Oh?"
She smiled again, trapping his bishop on the left side of the board. "I always had Ron as a partner." she replied.
Don couldn't help but chuckle at this. "The boy never was any good at chess, was he? Never had the patience for it. Sometimes I think he's pure impulse." He cast a sly glance at her as he took a pawn, removing it with his trademark Stoppable flourish. "Anyway, I hear you run with a 'new' partner nowadays."
Kim stopped, looking up at him. He pretended to study the board, keeping his face carefully neutral. "That's right. I work for Global Justice now." she said, moving a piece thoughtlessly.
"Fine people," Don agreed readily, capitalizing on Kim's distraction. "And anyway, the family's much happier to have him out of danger."
"What about Ron?" Kim asked with feigned innocence, trying to recover from Don's new offense on the board. Her features were carefully guarded as she said, "He hasn't been all that happy, has he?"
"I suppose you would know better than I would, Kimmie." Don replied. "You're his best friend. He must have said something."
"He might have mentioned it." Kim muttered. Suddenly, she looked up, and the game was over; Don's forces had her king pinned down from every side, with nowhere to go and no hope of rescue.
Sighing, the elder Stoppable leaned back, rubbing his sweaty forehead. "Listen, Kim…let's stop playing games."
"You won."
"That's not what I mean, and you know it." he snapped. "Ron's a wreck right now."
"Don't you think I know that?" she replied. She stood up, crossing her arms defensively. "Ron's the one that told me to take this stupid job, and the only reason I wanted it was so I could get out of the dorm. I didn't know that our missions meant that much to him!"
Don sighed again, rubbing his face in an exhausted manner. "Kimberly…You've always been a bright girl," he told her proudly. Her expression softened slightly as he continued, "But you have this annoying habit of being completely oblivious to other people's feelings."
"What do you mean?"
"Ron doesn't need missions." Don told her straight out. "He doesn't need a job. He needs his best friend."
Kim had nothing to say to this. She simply stood there, watching Don reset the board calmly, moving the pieces back to where they belonged. "I…" She searched for words, an explanation for what she had done, any at all. But a reason wasn't forthcoming, and she wasn't surprised.
A sudden beeping at her hip alerted her. She took one look at Don, who shrugged helplessly, before pulling out her Communicator. "Go Wa…I mean, what's the sitch, Will?"
Will's face rezzed onto the screen, looking even more serious than usual. "Kim, we need you to report to HQ immediately. Take the pneumatic tubeulator on third, it's only a few blocks from your position."
Headquarters? She hadn't been to headquarters yet, at least not since being inducted. A small sliver of excitement pierced her gloomy veil, but she quickly stamped it out; if they were bringing her to HQ, then something was definitely amiss. "What's going on?"
"It's Drakken. At least," he added, "It could be. I'll explain when you get here. Hurry." With that, he cut communications.
Kim replaced the device at her hip, looking apologetically at her pseudo-relative. "Sorry Uncle Don," she said, "But-"
He raised his hands. "Say no more. It's your job." His voice was neutral, yet it still filled Kim with an even greater sense of guilt. Could all adults do that, or just the ones she knew? "Go get 'em, Kimmie."
With one last goodbye, she took off in a sprint for the hidden tube that would whoosh her away to Global Justice Network's local center. 'Sorry, Ron,' she thought to herself with a pang of sadness. 'It'll have to wait until I get back.'
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Ron sneezed violently into his hands, thankfully missing the glasses he was preparing. "Someone must be talking about me," he muttered, pouring out lemonades for each of his guests. He walked around his counter and into the living room, where a small riot was tearing his meager furniture apart.
"Hoo sha!" Jim crowed as he tugged at his controller, sending his electronic avatar flying across the screen and into another. "I'm totally whomping you!"
"Of course you are," Monique groused, pecking at her own controller with confusion as she had the electronic tar pounded out of her. "I have no idea what I'm doing here."
"That's for sure," Tim snickered, joining in with his brother's cruel video antics. "It's like you've never even played X-Cubestation before."
"Look," she groused, biting her lower lip as the twins pounded the holy snot out of her character, "Unless there's a video game that involves coordinating outfits, you're pretty much guaranteed to beat me."
"And how!" Jim laughed, until the fourth character in the game grabbed hold of a power bomb and torched his player. "Hey!"
"Mwa-ha-ha-ha!" Rufus sniggered, dancing on his controller and using his tiny claws to send massive amounts of electronic death to the twins. "Flawless!"
Monique gratefully accepted the lemonade from Ron, setting her now-useless controller aside as she watched her character get torn to shreds. "Thanks."
"No big," Ron shrugged with a smile. "I'm just glad to have the company. Rufus and I've been pretty lonely since…" He trailed off, looking down and away. Rufus, having won the match, looked up with big sad eyes as Ron finished lamely, "Since, y'know."
"Yeesh," Mon patted him on the cheek, "Cheer up already." She spied a familiar blue object sitting on his table, and snatched it up eagerly. "Ooh, check me out." She crossed her arms, holding the Kimmunicator in a rakish fashion. "Remind you of anyone?" she asked with sultry lips and half-lidded eyes.
He raised a brow at her antics, walking away as the twins started a new match against the reigning rodent champion. "I'd never think that low of you, Monique."
"Ouch," she winced, dropping her arms. "Harsh much?" She watched him prepare a small snack tray with uncanny diligence. His hands chopped angrily against some fresh veggies, blurring with such speed that she wondered if they'd have to take him to the emergency room with his fingers in a plastic bag with ice. "I take it you haven't gotten any calls to save the world anymore."
"Haven't you heard?" he remarked snidely as he diced a carrot into inedible particles. "I'm out of the sidekick business. Now I'm just an unemployed waiter."
She eyed him suspiciously. Moving closer, she wrapped her arms around his waist in a casual manner, resting her chin on his shoulder. "So why keep this?" she asked, waving the Kimmunicator in front of his face as he continued to ruin perfectly good food.
"Fine." he snapped brusquely, not even flinching as she pressed up against him. "Take it. It's yours. Happy Sucky-September Day, or whatever holiday you want today to be."
She pulled away, looking sadly at him. "You really miss her, don't you?" she asked quietly.
Ron's chopping stopped abruptly. He tossed the knife down, turning around and jabbing at her with an undamaged carrot in hand. "No," he said between his teeth, "As a matter of fact, I don't. I've been a social leech on the Kim Possible hiney long enough. It's time for me to set out on my own, and become my own man." He took a big bite out of the carrot, chewing noisily with grinding teeth. "I don't need some self-important, pushy, loudmouth uppity redhead telling me what to do day in and day out. Who needs her?"
She snickered. "Whatever you say, Cleopatra." She turned back to the living room, calling out to the boys. "Hey Tweebs, boot up my character again. I wanna give Ultra Squish Siblings another try!"
Ron watched her move back to the game, taking another bite of his carrot. Where did Monique get off judging him anyway? Who did she think she was, Kim? Well, he didn't need any more pushy women in his life. And what did she mean by…
He suddenly got it. "Oh. Cleopatra. Queen of de-Nile. Ha ha, very funny," he sneered, moving back to food preparation. "Just watch that joke," he muttered quietly, taking the knife up again, "It's an antique."
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A strange, green wave pattern wobbled on Global Justice Headquarters' main screen, the GJHQMS (so dubbed by the Global Justice Redundant Categorization Department, or GJRCD), baffling GJ's analysts and scientists in its origins or purpose. Kim, clad in her confining mission clothes, stood in the central alcove, leaning against a large circular table with GJ's seal embossed on it as she studied the signal.
"We've been receiving this for almost half an hour now," Will explained, leaning next to her and similarly clad. His brow was heavy with concentration and foreboding. "It's some kind of carrier wave, we think, originating," he reached forward with a small remote in hand, switching the wave analysis to a global map, "From a specific point in the Pacific Ocean." A small, flashing indicator marked the theoretical location of their mysterious signal.
"What was the wave carrying?" Kim asked, scowling at the isolated spot.
"This."
Pressing his remote once more, the large map vanished, replaced with an infuriating picture of Doctor Drakken. The scientist stood on some kind of gantry, surrounded by his fiendish allies; Monkey Fist, Killigan, Long and his cronies, the Seniors, and Shego. Half of Lucre's posterior was in the picture, as if he had set the timer on the camera, but was too slow to make it into the frame. Behind all of them stood the stolen nuclear missile, now painted a dastardly blue with black trim. Something was written along the side of the rocket, but she couldn't quite make it out.
"Doctor Drakken…" Kim's teeth gnashed involuntarily. She felt her fists clenching down by her hips. "He's refitted the missile…"
"No doubt, using the technology your 'friend' let him acquire back in Hong Kong." Will added needlessly. "We've cross-referenced with our global satellites; there's no land mass at those coordinates, which would suggest possibly a sub-oceanic or even mobile base."
"Are we sending in a full team?" she asked, pointedly ignoring the jab at Ron. She ached to bring Drakken down and end the crisis, if for no other reason then to put her life back in order.
"Negative." He shook his head, returning the monitor to its wave analysis and setting the control aside. "You and I will go in for reconnaissance and assess the situation. Doctor Director will then act accordingly, based on the data we give her. We don't want to send agents into a full-blown trap…"
"Not when two will be an acceptable loss," Kim grimaced.
Will raised his brow at the comment, but let it pass. "We launch in ten. I'll have our hoverjet loaded with the aquatic equipment we'll need." He cast one last, unreadable glance back at her before he exited, leaving Kim to study the mysterious wave alone.
Every instinct she possessed told her this was a trap. The only question was, how clever of a trap was it? For, if Drakken really 'was' transmitting from his own lair, that would give GJ the coordinates they needed to level the place from orbit, eliminating the threat. If not… "Just have to think on our feet, huh Ro…" She stopped herself, rubbing the bridge of her nose in irritation at the slip. Luckily, no one was around to notice…or so she thought.
A gentle hand grasped her shoulder as a familiar, feminine voice murmured, "Well, we meet at last, Agent Possible."
Kim turned, gasped, and snapped into an attentive salute at the sight of Doctor Director herself. The older woman chuckled a bit, returning the salute and motioning for Kim to drop the kay-det act. "Doctor Director," Kim managed to say, "I'm sorry, I'm just a little surprised to see you."
"And I'm surprised I haven't seen you," she smiled, prompting Kim to do the same. "We've been busy with this Drakken mess…But you know all about that." As Kim nodded, a sudden thought occurred to the elder agent. "Oh, congratulations, by the way. So far, you're on your way to becoming one of our top agents." She smirked, and said, "Not bad for two weeks worth of work, eh?"
"Thank you," Kim blushed lightly, nodding with humility. "It's no big, really."
"I have to say, though," Doctor Director added, "I was surprised Stoppable didn't take our offer."
Time seemed to freeze as Kim blinked, taking the words into her system. They settled at the bottom of her stomach, spreading a bitter feeling through her body. "E-Excuse me?" she muttered hoarsely. Perhaps she had heard wrong, or misunderstood, or-
"Our offer," Doctor Director reiterated, crossing her arms as she leaned casually against the grand table. "You know, to join Global Justice along with you. Had to read Agent Du's report twice just to convince myself that he turned us down. I was sure you two would be a package deal."
The world spun around Kim's head as she steadied herself against the table. "You mean you guys 'wanted' Ron?" she asked slowly, finding a bit more of her voice amidst the confusion. It couldn't be what she thought it was…it just couldn't be!
"Oh, sure," Doctor Director said, staring up at the wave pattern screen in idle thought. "Stoppable's a little rough around the edges, but the boy has great instincts." She smiled at Kim as she unknowingly shattered the last of Kim's self-denial. "Besides, it was a shame to break up such an effective team."
"Yeah," the teen agent croaked.
The Director shrugged. "Still," she said, "You and Will seem to be hitting it off pretty well." Her good eye shifted with confusion as she frowned. "Didn't Will approach you both at the same time?"
"Oh," Kim said quickly, still sorting everything out, "No, he, uh…He must have caught Ron at a different time."
"Well," Doctor Director shrugged again, "After this Drakken situation is handled, I want you to take a week off. You've been putting in a lot of voluntary training time in. Go spend some time with Stoppable, or something." Kim was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she missed the Director's sly, knowing smile. "Our logs haven't registered a visit from the boy since you moved in."
"He couldn't get an access pass," Kim muttered distractedly. "Too much paperwork."
The Director snorted at this. "Well sure," she said, "If you're a civilian. An agent can request a pass for any civvy and have it in under twenty-four hours tops." She frowned once more, looking skeptical. "Du was supposed to brief you on things like this."
Kim's voice was barely audible. "Must've slipped his mind."
"I'll have security run a pass for him ASAP." Doctor Director smiled warmly, clapping her on the shoulder. "It'll be ready by the time you get back."
"I…I'd…better get going." Kim said quickly, feeling a mass of bile pushing against her throat.
Doctor Director tossed her a salute, which Kim returned hurriedly. "Good luck, Agent Possible." she smiled with confidence in her prodigy. "And good hunting." With that, she turned back to the signal analysis, completely missing the look of despair that crossed the features of her newest agent.
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Will shifted uncomfortably against his flight harness, gripping the control yoke of their hoverjet with white knuckles. They zipped over the ocean at several times the speed of sound, which still didn't explain the complete stillness in the tiny cockpit. They were twenty minutes into the flight, and Kim hadn't said a word; she just stared out the view port with a glazed-over expression.
Any attempt he made at conversation was met with total silence. Any question was answered monosyllabically. He was trained in field psychology, reading expressions, but her poker face was absolute. Nothing slipped through her rocky exterior.
"We are about five minutes from the target," Will said as he unlatched his harness and lifted it over his head. "We should…" Kim hadn't moved or looked in his direction at the sound of his voice. She just stared off into space, watching the blue-green water roll beneath them at Mach speed. Steeling himself, Will employed the same tactic he applied to everything else in his life; the direct approach. "Kim," he said with soft concern, "Is something wrong?"
Without moving, Kim asked in a hauntingly calm tone, "When were you going to tell me?"
He blinked in confusion. "I'm sorry," he said slowly, "I'll keep you better appraised of our ETAs from now on-"
"When were you going to tell me Ron was supposed to be an agent too?"
Kim watched from the corner of her eye as the color drained from Will's face, and felt a small slice of satisfaction adrift in the churning ocean of her anger. For several seconds, all he could do was stutter helplessly and babble incoherently. she turned to face him, struggling to keep her face expressionless.
"I…I didn't…You weren't…"
"You must have known I'd find out eventually." she said with an air of rationality she didn't feel. "Why did you tell Ron GJ wasn't interested in him?" Her voice rose slowly as she straightened her slouch, facing him tall and proud.
Will struggled for a moment more before he calmed down, mirroring her placid front. "I did it for you." he told her evenly. Ignoring her look of total incredulity, he continued, "I saw an intelligent, talented young woman in her prime being held back by a bumbling, useless nobody. I saw what you could become, and it tore me up inside to know that, as long as he was around, you'd never achieve what you could on your own."
The senior agent watched his partner digest his painful, heartfelt admission. Her blank face did not change as she said, "Don't lie to me. Don't you dare sit there and lie to my face." A crack appeared in her façade, betraying a powerful burst of anger as she snapped, "Do you think I'm stupid?"
"I needed a partner!" The reply exploded from Will as he lost the contest of bottled emotions. "I needed a partner, and I wanted the best. I've watched you for years, and I wanted you, but I knew I would never have you as long as that buffoon-"
Now Kim didn't even try to hide her rage. "Don't call him that!" she raised her voice, leaning in dangerously. Her emerald eyes blazed with cold fire, boring into Will with the intensity of a gunshot. "What gave you the right to decide-"
"I had to!" Will insisted again. "Kim, for quite some time now, I've been in love with-"
"Love?" she burst, throwing her hands up. "How can you love me? she demanded, "You don't even know me!"
"I don't understand why you're even mad," he shot back with genuine confusion. "I mean, I didn't 'make' Stoppable yell at you at the restaurant, did I? I didn't make him say any of those awful things to you, but he did! Do you remember all that?"
"You lied to me!" she shouted.
"You aren't even speaking to him anymore!" Will shouted back.
"That doesn't mean I don't still care about him!" Kim ripped her flight harness off, standing up and looming over Will as she continued to shout. "Ron and I have fought hundreds of times! He's always ticking me off, or saying something dumb, or embarrassing me! That doesn't mean I don't still love him!"
The words hung in the air between the two teens with all the weight of an anvil. Kim's lower lip trembled as she brought her hand to her mouth. Her eyes widened, even as Will's narrowed.
"So that's how it is." he said softly. His jaw tightened. He looked back out of the view port, then back at the instrumentation. Their little spat had carried them the rest of the way; the autopilot was now slowing their extreme velocity, and would soon bring them to hover just a few meters over the ocean's churning surface. "We're nearly there. We should gear up. We still have a job to do."
And with that, he left Kim standing in the cockpit, alone with her chaotic thoughts.
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Even through her foggy face mask, Kim couldn't help but marvel at Drakken's latest lair. It was an enormous undersea dome, with windows and portholes spaced evenly about its turtle-like shell. The metallic dome sat atop a broad, circular platform, which in turn sat atop what appeared to be a pneumatic shaft.
"Impressive." Will breathed through his radio/air feed. "It appears to rise and submerge upon command."
"No wonder we haven't been able to find him," Kim breathed in sharply.
Will ignored her, even more businesslike than usual. "We need to get closer. I want a look inside that thing." He kicked his webbed fins, pressing ahead. Like Kim, he was weighed down with dark deep-diving gear designed to be inconspicuous, but they were both strong swimmers, and didn't have much trouble navigating beneath the waves.
"Shouldn't we call for back-"
"No. We can handle this." Will replied snappishly.
The surface of the dome loomed closer, betraying the actual size of the complex. Kim was loathe to admit it, but she was truly impressed with Drakken's set-up this time. Coming at the lair from above, she could even see a large, circular door set in the exact center of the dome. That, she surmised, must be the launch door for his missile.
Swimming in further, they soon grew close enough to actually skim the surface of the expansive dome. The metal was cold beneath Kim's gloved fingertips, but not as cold as she expected for this depth. "So how do we get in?"
Will was about to reply when the seamless surface of the dome split suddenly beneath them, pulling at them with an irresistible current. The change in the waters was too sudden to fight; Kim helplessly watched the bubbles from her mask swirl about her as she and Will were sucked into the dome and down into its inky depths.
The world spun about her as she and Will were forced into a narrow channel, bumping and slamming against the inside of a twisting, turning metal cylinder. Kim tried desperately to get her bearings, to fight against the current…anything! But she was helpless, and she hated that feeling more than anything.
After an eternity of bumping and flowing, the pair were dumped unceremoniously into clean, dry air, slamming hard against the metal grating that caught them and allowed the thousands of gallons they had been captured with to pour out around them.
As soon as the last of the water had let up, Kim stood and tore her mask away, slamming her fist against the release catch of her scuba gear. Will was just a moment behind her as they kicked their fins off, looking around the darkened, featureless room.
"Where are we?" Will grunted, spitting up a fair amount of seawater.
A sudden spotlight was their answer, providing them with painful illumination. Kim squinted against the bright light, shielding her eyes with her hand as she looked about the room. She almost wished she was as clueless as Will, who could only blink and moan against the sudden photonic assault.
"Welcome, Kim Possible," Drakken greeted her from the edge of the room, standing with his arms folded arrogantly.
Continuing her circle, Kim spotted nine other figures in the room, each of them familiar, and each of them armed. Shego, Lucre, Monkey Fist, Killigan, Long, Claymore, Falchion, and the Senior family, all grinning at her with the same sinister smile.
Drakken tilted his head, continuing with a gracious expression of victory. "You're just in time for the end of the world."
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