The limo gently stopped in front of the row of shops. The driver
quickly ran around the side of the limo, opening the door for the Princess
and giving her a courteous bow. Ron followed her out, putting his hand
over his eyes to shield them from the bright sunlight.
"You know Ron, underneath the ugly hair and the goofy smile, you're a pretty nice guy. I mean, all of this going on around you, and it is still important to you to make sure you remember your friend's birthday."
"Thank you, Madame Princess," Ron replied gently.
"I wanted to come and see some of these shops myself anyway, so I think this was a great idea."
"It was your idea," Ron corrected. "You were the one that thought the downtown shopping district would be the perfect place to go. I wanted to go to the mall. Or the Smarty Mart. Did you know there are two in Los Angeles itself and three more in suburbs under twenty-five miles from the city center?"
Unable to tell if Ron's words were a joke about the number of Smarty Marts or a serious statement, she decided it was best to ignore the rather strange comment. "But here," the Princess said, waving her hand towards the shops around her, "Is where we find the unique things."
"And expensive things."
"Let's look in here," the Princess said, pointing towards a jewelry store called "Image of Light". "Everyone loves jewelry. At least, all the ladies do."
"Oooo... shiny!" Ron said excitedly, looking at a case of exquisite diamonds, each cut as close to perfect as possible and all exceedingly large. The center of the case was dominated by a massive blue diamond hung on an impressive chain of twenty-four karat gold.
"There is no way I could afford this stuff," Ron mumbled, staring at the necklace. The massive stone gleaned unlike anything Ron had ever seen. "That's beautiful."
"You are right," the Princess said, walking up behind him. "That's the perfect gift for an eighteenth birthday."
"Yeah, but there is no way that I can afford that... just no way."
"It's only fifty dollars."
"Fity bucks?" Ron asked, his jaw dropping open. "You're kidding! I can see the price tag from here, and there are six numbers before the dot thing!"
"Well, the price just changed. You see, 'Image of Light' is 60% owned by the royal family of Parmea. If I want to, I can change the price."
Ron's eyes lit up. "I can't believe it, this is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me." He choked back tears.
"Ron, it's OK. It is my pleasure to help out a man as caring as yourself. And, from what I here, there are few people as deserving of the Auswix diamond than Kim Possible."
"The what?" Ron asked, his voice still quiet.
"The Auswix diamond, discovered in 1839 by Daniel E. Auswix in Africa. One of the smaller diamonds to have a name of this sort."
Ron was still in shock when they left the store, the diamond neatly packed in an impressive silver box.
******
"Thanks again for flying with Terminus Air, where the sky is the limit. We know that you have many choices when you travel, and are glad that you chose the best: Terminus. For those of you with connecting flights, please contact the gate agent if you have any questions. Again, thank you for flying Terminus Air, and enjoy your day in Los Angeles or wherever your final destination may be." As the stewardess finished her speech the seatbelt sign turned off and Kim bolted upwards, grabbing her bag out of the overhead compartment and rushing forward as fast as she could.
It was no use. The wait to get off the crowded flight was still nearly five minutes. A soon as she was in the terminal building, she pulled out her communicator. Wade gave her directions to the taxi rank where she hailed a cab.
"Ok," Wade said over the communicator, "The princess is staying at the Seward Dunes Resort Hotel, one of the fanciest places in the city. Ron couldn't be too far away."
"I need to get to the Seaward Dunes Resort," Kim announced as she slipped into the cab, "Quickly, if possible."
"A rich girl, eh? Nice place that Seaward Dunes," the driver began as he pulled away from the curb. "I've heard that they have four different indoor pools, each one with its own theme based on an exotic location."
The driver continued to rant, but Kim tuned him out, instead focusing on the text Wade was scrolling across the communicator. It was additional background on Parmea and its relation with Tai Shink Pek Kwar, and it sent a chill down Kim's spine.
******
"Mr. Brigsby," a reporter in the front row asked, "You are saying that you do not intend to replace Ron Stoppable with a real agent?"
"That is correct, at the request of the Permian government," Brigsby responded, his eyes burning from the constant light of cameramen's flashbulbs.
"But the kid has no formal training?" a short woman in the back asked.
"He may not have formal training, but he does have hands-on experience... more of it than any agent I know in fact. Quite impressive for 18."
"How do you counter the comments made by some of his acquaintances in his home town of Middleton? A teacher speaking on a condition of anonymity said, 'He's a follower, socially inept, and smells of overripe fruit.' A fellow student said, 'I overheard him mention he had nothing but air beneath the hair. I think that's a pretty apt description.' Another described him as 'freaky, irritating, and lacking in brainpower.' And you expect us to believe this is the right man for the job?"
"Well, I've never noticed any smell of overripe fruit. But that's not important. I understand that some of his critics back home may not think highly of him, but if you look at the record of things he has done, it is amazing."
"Mr. Brigsby, is it true that he normally ends up being saved by a girl?" a third reporter asked with a snicker.
"Umm, well, sometimes. But it is partnership and I'm told that he plays a very important role in it. I think that's all the questions we have time for. Any other concerns can be directed in writing to the Los Angeles branch press secretary." Brigsby wiped a bead of sweat off his brow. He stormed up the stairs towards Melbourne's temporary office.
"Why didn't you take that conference?" Brigsby demanded as we walked through the open door.
"I thought it was going to be a hot one," Melbourne responded with a smile.
"It was. You sent me up on a stage to defend the integrity of the CIA despite an egregious lie as well as the intelligence of the dumb kid."
"And I trust it went well?"
"As well as it could considering I didn't have answers for most of their questions... not to mention I agreed with most of their statements."
"Those press conferences are the toughest," Melbourne said with a laugh as he stood up behind his desk. "You did mention that we were going to keep him on, right?"
"Yes," he moaned. "Most had already figured it out from the noon press release, but it didn't stop them from attacking."
"This Ron character better not screw up," Melbourne said. "I still have faith in him, but he is on thin ice, and I'd need to be a moron not to see that."
"Respectfully, sir," Brigsby added, "I think we passed the 'thin ice' part a while ago. In order to make this work, he's going to need to walk on water."
Melbourne grimaced. "The last thing he needs is another nay-sayer. You need to be positive."
"Sir, you know I respect your judgment, but in this case I feel it is important for me to vocalize my opposition... forcefully."
"Consider it vocalized, considered, and rejected," Melbourne answered sharply.
Brigsby opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted when the phone on Melbourne's desk rang. The older man picked it up, and motioned for Brigsby to wait.
He conversed for a moment, and then replaced the receiver. "That was the security director for another visiting head of state. As you can see, Mr. Brigsby, I don't have him in my office. I fact, it's been over a week since I've had any of my team directors in my office... except for one, who seems to come in here every day, complaining about his petty problems and making more issues for me to deal with at the same time. I want to be very clear here: I appreciate others advice, I will not tolerate insubordination. You are dancing on that very fine line right now, my friend. Be careful."
"You know Ron, underneath the ugly hair and the goofy smile, you're a pretty nice guy. I mean, all of this going on around you, and it is still important to you to make sure you remember your friend's birthday."
"Thank you, Madame Princess," Ron replied gently.
"I wanted to come and see some of these shops myself anyway, so I think this was a great idea."
"It was your idea," Ron corrected. "You were the one that thought the downtown shopping district would be the perfect place to go. I wanted to go to the mall. Or the Smarty Mart. Did you know there are two in Los Angeles itself and three more in suburbs under twenty-five miles from the city center?"
Unable to tell if Ron's words were a joke about the number of Smarty Marts or a serious statement, she decided it was best to ignore the rather strange comment. "But here," the Princess said, waving her hand towards the shops around her, "Is where we find the unique things."
"And expensive things."
"Let's look in here," the Princess said, pointing towards a jewelry store called "Image of Light". "Everyone loves jewelry. At least, all the ladies do."
"Oooo... shiny!" Ron said excitedly, looking at a case of exquisite diamonds, each cut as close to perfect as possible and all exceedingly large. The center of the case was dominated by a massive blue diamond hung on an impressive chain of twenty-four karat gold.
"There is no way I could afford this stuff," Ron mumbled, staring at the necklace. The massive stone gleaned unlike anything Ron had ever seen. "That's beautiful."
"You are right," the Princess said, walking up behind him. "That's the perfect gift for an eighteenth birthday."
"Yeah, but there is no way that I can afford that... just no way."
"It's only fifty dollars."
"Fity bucks?" Ron asked, his jaw dropping open. "You're kidding! I can see the price tag from here, and there are six numbers before the dot thing!"
"Well, the price just changed. You see, 'Image of Light' is 60% owned by the royal family of Parmea. If I want to, I can change the price."
Ron's eyes lit up. "I can't believe it, this is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me." He choked back tears.
"Ron, it's OK. It is my pleasure to help out a man as caring as yourself. And, from what I here, there are few people as deserving of the Auswix diamond than Kim Possible."
"The what?" Ron asked, his voice still quiet.
"The Auswix diamond, discovered in 1839 by Daniel E. Auswix in Africa. One of the smaller diamonds to have a name of this sort."
Ron was still in shock when they left the store, the diamond neatly packed in an impressive silver box.
******
"Thanks again for flying with Terminus Air, where the sky is the limit. We know that you have many choices when you travel, and are glad that you chose the best: Terminus. For those of you with connecting flights, please contact the gate agent if you have any questions. Again, thank you for flying Terminus Air, and enjoy your day in Los Angeles or wherever your final destination may be." As the stewardess finished her speech the seatbelt sign turned off and Kim bolted upwards, grabbing her bag out of the overhead compartment and rushing forward as fast as she could.
It was no use. The wait to get off the crowded flight was still nearly five minutes. A soon as she was in the terminal building, she pulled out her communicator. Wade gave her directions to the taxi rank where she hailed a cab.
"Ok," Wade said over the communicator, "The princess is staying at the Seward Dunes Resort Hotel, one of the fanciest places in the city. Ron couldn't be too far away."
"I need to get to the Seaward Dunes Resort," Kim announced as she slipped into the cab, "Quickly, if possible."
"A rich girl, eh? Nice place that Seaward Dunes," the driver began as he pulled away from the curb. "I've heard that they have four different indoor pools, each one with its own theme based on an exotic location."
The driver continued to rant, but Kim tuned him out, instead focusing on the text Wade was scrolling across the communicator. It was additional background on Parmea and its relation with Tai Shink Pek Kwar, and it sent a chill down Kim's spine.
******
"Mr. Brigsby," a reporter in the front row asked, "You are saying that you do not intend to replace Ron Stoppable with a real agent?"
"That is correct, at the request of the Permian government," Brigsby responded, his eyes burning from the constant light of cameramen's flashbulbs.
"But the kid has no formal training?" a short woman in the back asked.
"He may not have formal training, but he does have hands-on experience... more of it than any agent I know in fact. Quite impressive for 18."
"How do you counter the comments made by some of his acquaintances in his home town of Middleton? A teacher speaking on a condition of anonymity said, 'He's a follower, socially inept, and smells of overripe fruit.' A fellow student said, 'I overheard him mention he had nothing but air beneath the hair. I think that's a pretty apt description.' Another described him as 'freaky, irritating, and lacking in brainpower.' And you expect us to believe this is the right man for the job?"
"Well, I've never noticed any smell of overripe fruit. But that's not important. I understand that some of his critics back home may not think highly of him, but if you look at the record of things he has done, it is amazing."
"Mr. Brigsby, is it true that he normally ends up being saved by a girl?" a third reporter asked with a snicker.
"Umm, well, sometimes. But it is partnership and I'm told that he plays a very important role in it. I think that's all the questions we have time for. Any other concerns can be directed in writing to the Los Angeles branch press secretary." Brigsby wiped a bead of sweat off his brow. He stormed up the stairs towards Melbourne's temporary office.
"Why didn't you take that conference?" Brigsby demanded as we walked through the open door.
"I thought it was going to be a hot one," Melbourne responded with a smile.
"It was. You sent me up on a stage to defend the integrity of the CIA despite an egregious lie as well as the intelligence of the dumb kid."
"And I trust it went well?"
"As well as it could considering I didn't have answers for most of their questions... not to mention I agreed with most of their statements."
"Those press conferences are the toughest," Melbourne said with a laugh as he stood up behind his desk. "You did mention that we were going to keep him on, right?"
"Yes," he moaned. "Most had already figured it out from the noon press release, but it didn't stop them from attacking."
"This Ron character better not screw up," Melbourne said. "I still have faith in him, but he is on thin ice, and I'd need to be a moron not to see that."
"Respectfully, sir," Brigsby added, "I think we passed the 'thin ice' part a while ago. In order to make this work, he's going to need to walk on water."
Melbourne grimaced. "The last thing he needs is another nay-sayer. You need to be positive."
"Sir, you know I respect your judgment, but in this case I feel it is important for me to vocalize my opposition... forcefully."
"Consider it vocalized, considered, and rejected," Melbourne answered sharply.
Brigsby opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted when the phone on Melbourne's desk rang. The older man picked it up, and motioned for Brigsby to wait.
He conversed for a moment, and then replaced the receiver. "That was the security director for another visiting head of state. As you can see, Mr. Brigsby, I don't have him in my office. I fact, it's been over a week since I've had any of my team directors in my office... except for one, who seems to come in here every day, complaining about his petty problems and making more issues for me to deal with at the same time. I want to be very clear here: I appreciate others advice, I will not tolerate insubordination. You are dancing on that very fine line right now, my friend. Be careful."