This is a revised release : I've been away from this story for quite a while, and now that I'm back, I've gone back through a tweaked a few things to better match what I've got planned. Sorry for the delays in continuing this story.
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KIM POSSIBLE: FUTURE IMPERFECT
Chapter Two
"Reaction"
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Kim thrashed about on her bed, groaning softly, sweat plastering her auburn hair to her forehead. She twisted, turned, fists clenched, teeth grinding in her sleep as the nightmare gripped her. Another soft moan escaped her lips. "Hello, Junior," she breathed softly, face twisting into a feral
scowl. "Long time no see."
Beside her bed, sprawled on the floor, Ron Stoppable slept on, oblivious to the commotion occurring beside him.
She twitched, shook, jerked violently on the bed. Rolled face-first onto a pillow as a soft keening wail rose in her throat. "Oh, God..." she cried, voice muffled in the down-filled pillow.
----
Señor Senior, Sr. walked quickly down the long hallway, his aged body moving with a speed and grace that few others his age could muster. His face an emotionless mask, although inside his thoughts were boiling. What had Junior done this time? He had noticed when the boy had snuck
out of the banquet hall, thinking himself unseen. Saw the young lady that had accompanied him. At the time, he had muffled his irritation at Junior's affront, leaving the party so early, but he could not fault the lad for wanting to indulge himself. Had he himself been younger, the senior
Senior may have made a play for the woman himself.
The fact that the boy had been gone all night was cause for both concern and, he supposed, congratulations. Fortunately, the party had passed its zenith by the time Junior had decided to make his escape, and few took any notice that the boy was gone. Which was for the best, Senior
thought.
But then an attendant had awakened him and told him that there was a problem in Junior's room, and that he needed to come quickly. A hundred scenarios had played through the elder Senior's mind, none of them very pleasing. Junior's penchant for dancing was only matched by his ability
to cause problems that his father had to sort out. From the look on the attendant's face, whatever Junior had done this time, it had outdone his previous exploits. So he had donned his robes and hurried after the flustered staff member.
Rounding a corner, Senior immediately sensed that something was terribly amiss. A large crowd of hotel staffers was congregating around the open doorway to Junior's suite, none of them speaking a word, instead staring into the room itself. Senior's heart skipped a beat and he
quickened his pace, moving towards the door as a growing sense of alarm filled him.
The hotel's maitre d' emerged from the room, face ashen. Behind him, two men carried a woman out of the room. Senior blinked in confusion, then recognition set in - it was the woman Junior had left with during the party. She was apparently unconscious, her head tipped back, throat
pulsing gently as she spoke in her sleep. As they passed him, Senior saw several drops of what appeared to be blood on the woman's face. "Oh, God. Junior, what have you done?" he breathed, turning towards the door.
The maitre d' turned, saw Senior approaching, and moved to intercept him. "I'm sorry, sir, but you cannot-"
"What's happened?" Senior interrupted. He gestured towards the growing crowd. "What's the meaning of this? Where's my son?"
The maitre d' swallowed and pulled Senior to one side. "Sir, something terrible has happened. I don't know how to tell you this, but-"
"What? What's happened?" Senior demanded, a sudden leaden feeling filling his gut.
"It's your son, sir. Someone broke into the private wing last night and..." he trailed off, his face losing even more of it's color.
Senior pushed his way past the man and stepped into the room. He saw one of his private bodyguards lying crumpled by the fireplace, obviously dead. Blood turning to icewater, he turned, slowly surveying the room. "Junior?" His gaze fell on the bed, on the horrid sight that lay there, unmoving.
"JUNIOR!"
----
Kim slowly munched a piece of toast, blinking to try and clear the sleep from her eyes. Beside her, Ron was humming tunelessly as he made short work of some scrambled eggs and bacon.
"You getting enough to eat, Ron?" Kim's mother asked.
"Oh yes, Mrs. P," he replied, nodding enthusiastically, "It's excellent, as always. Couldn't do better myself."
Kim cocked an eyebrow. "Laying it on a bit thick, don't you think?"
"Well, no," he said as he spread some jam on a piece of toast. "It's a fine balance between too little and too much. Can't have too little, or the toast is too dry. Too much, and-"
"That's not what I meant, Ron."
Ron paused, scratching his head. "Huh? Oh, well, whatever you say, KP."
"Right," Kim said slowly.
Kim's mother smiled. "Thanks for the compliment, Ron." Turning towards Kim, her expression shifted somewhat, concern dancing at the corners of her eyes. "Is that all you're eating, Kimmie?"
"Not hungry, mom," Kim said as she took another small bite.
"Is anything the matter, honey?"
Kim swallowed her toast and shrugged. "I'm fine. Didn't sleep well, that's all."
Her mother walked over and placed the back of her hand on Kim's forehead. "You're not coming down with something, are you?"
Kim sighed, not quite masking her annoyance. "I'm fine, mom. I just had a really bad nightmare, that's all."
Ron, for his part, simply watched the exchange as he poured himself another glass of juice.
"A nightmare? What about?" her mother asked, sitting down across from Kim and Ron.
Kim shrugged. "I don't know. Can't remember a thing about it."
Her mother frowned. "If you say so, hon."
"I'm fine, mom." Kim said, rising to her feet. "It's no big. Honest. Just a nightmare."
Ron quickly chugged his orange juice before following Kim out of the kitchen. "I hear that a heaping helping of nacos is a great cure for nightmares, KP."
Kim grimace as she reached down and grabbed her book bag, which was on the floor by the front door. "More like a great cause of them, Ron."
"Well, think about it. Last night you didn't have any nacos. Then, you have a nightmare." He grinned at her. "The evidence speaks for itself."
"I'm sure it does," she replied, shaking her head. "But I don't think you're hearing it very clearly."
Her mother's voice rang out from the kitchen, a note of concern clearly noticeable. "Kim! I think you should see this!"
Kim and Ron shared a look, then ran into the kitchen. "What?"
Without saying a word her mother pointed towards the television.
A male reporter was standing outside a set of wrought-iron gates, speaking into a microphone. "Reports are coming in that Señor Senior, Jr., son of multi-billionaire Señor Senior, Sr., was murdered last night in his suite at the five-star Lux Royale hotel, located just outside of Toulon,
in southern France." The view panned to show the hotel itself as the reporter continued. "Details are sketchy at this time, but it appears that an intruder managed to circumvent hotel security and enter the wing rented out to the Seniors."
Kim turned away from the television, a queasy feeling spasming her stomach. A vague, half-forgotten memory flashed in front of her eyes.
Junior crawled across the thickly carpeted floor, one leg dragging limply. He was muttering incoherently, scrambling to escape her.
A sound made him stop and turn his face back to her. A sickly green light highlighted his features, intensifying the look of terror and shock that filled his eyes. The sight made her laugh. A mocking, evil laugh.
Fist lashing out, she punched him in the face. He fell, blood spraying from his shattered nose.
"Kim? You okay?" Ron asked, suddenly at her side. "You got my 'Barkin' look, again. Doesn't really look as good on you as it does on me."
"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine." she replied, the memory and queasiness fading as quickly as they had come. "Just a shock, you know? Learning that Junior's been killed."
"I suppose," Ron agreed slowly, unsure what else to say. "I mean, it's too bad that he's dead, and all. But it's not like he hasn't tried to take over the world or anything. And I don't recall getting a Christmas card from them this year."
Kim glanced at the television again, which was now showing a slow panning shot of the hotel. Why does that place seem so damned familiar? she asked herself silently. I've know that I've never even been there before, but I feel like I have. What in the world is happening to me?
"Hate to interrupt," her mother said, "but you should really get going."
"C'mon, Ron," she said quickly, filing away her questions for future consideration as she hurried out of the kitchen. "We're going to be late!"
----
Will's cursing echoed loudly inside the hotel room as he watched the morning news. Kim had struck, and struck hard judging by the number of policiers that the camera crews had caught on video. He stalked around the bed, thoughts racing. He should have realized that she would go for
Junior first, all things considered. After what he had done to her, it was only logical.
Of course, he mused, logic and Kim 'The Reaper' Possible didn't always travel the same path.
Somehow, she had gotten herself to France and killed Junior. Who would she be most likely to hit next? He was well aware of the names of each and every person that she would be after. The ill-fated individuals who had become the members of F.O.E. It was just a matter of finding them
before she did. Frowning, he realized that he lacked the resources to locate any of the individuals she would be targeting. It wasn't like he could waltz into Global Justice Headquarters and ask for access to the mainframe. Although it might be worth it to try, if only to see the look on Dr.
Director's face.
No, there had to be another way. What could it be?
Suddenly, inspiration dawned. He pulled out a phone book and quickly flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. He spun and raced out of the room, grabbing his coat as he did so.
----
"So, somebody whacked Junior, eh?" Monique said as she walked beside Kim between classes. "I never would've seen that one coming. How about you?"
Kim shook her head. "Never. Junior may have been an aspiring villain, but he doesn't seem.... er, didn't seem to be the kind to make that sort of enemy."
"Wonder who it was?" Monique asked. "Somebody new that you're going to have to fight?"
"I have no idea," Kim admitted. "Wade's working on figuring out who was responsible. Just have to wait and see what comes up." Something caught her eye, and she sighed. "Pardon me, Monique, but I've got a little errand to run."
"Sure thing. See you at lunch!"
Kim walked over to Ron's locker, a smirk on her face. Knocking lightly on the locker door she said, "Anybody home?"
"Oh, hi KP." Ron's voice echoed from the inside of the locker. "How's things?"
"Oh, you know, the usual." she replied, frowning. "So, what are you doing?"
"Same old same old," came the reply. "Decided that I really needed to do a thorough cleaning of my locker. The trash was beginning to organize a revolution."
"I can imagine," Kim sighed, twisting the lock and opening the door. "How long have you been in there?"
"Not long," he replied. "Only since last period. Didn't miss anything except study hall. Um, how'd you know I was in here?"
"Rufus," Kim answered, pointing down to where the naked mole rat was sitting on the floor, holding a small sign that read "Ron In Locker Again."
"Ah, yep, that would explain it." Ron said, smiling. "Thanks, buddy."
"No problemo," Rufus chirped.
She crossed her arms and looked at him. "You coming out? It's almost time for class."
"Maybe. Might stay in here a bit more. Got Barkin's class next. I'm sure he won't miss me." Ron shrugged. "Besides, the trash wants to elect me president! How can I possibly leave?" He yelped as Kim reached in and yanked him out of the locker. "Just great. I finally get some ambition, and
you have to go and ruin it for me. KP? Kim? Hey, wait up!"
----
She stalked through the halls of the deserted building, fists clenched at her sides, eyes alight. "Why didn't it work?" she demanded. "Why hasn't it changed?" She stopped in the middle of the hall and trembled as a growl rumbled in her throat. "WHY CAN I STILL REMEMBER IT!?" she
screamed, spinning and planting her fist into the wall. The force of the plasma-assisted punch blew a ragged hole through the block wall, scattering shattered brick and plaster in every direction.
"WHY DO I STILL REMEMBER?!" A door was reduced to splinters.
"WHY DO I STILL REMEMBER THEM DYING!?" An abandoned desk burst into flaming debris.
"WHY CAN I STILL REMEMBER WHAT THAT BASTARD DID TO ME?!" A crumbling section of wall gave way, sending a billowing cloud of dust in all directions.
Panting softly, gazing around the ruined interior of the building, her emotions began to modulate. "Damn, I hate it when that happens," she said with a sigh.
She scuffed a foot on the floor, kicking piles of dirt around. "It should've worked. I took the bastard out of the equation. It should've changed things. It should've worked." She kept repeating the phrase over and over, her own personal mantra. "It should have worked. Unless... unless he
wasn't the key." She stared up at the ceiling, frowning. "Maybe it wasn't enough to take him out of the picture. Maybe I need to do more."
"Well," she said, a smile slowly spreading across her lips. "If at first you don't succeed..."
----
Kim tried to stifle a yawn as she stared at the computer screen, preparing to dissect her virtual frog. Not that she would have preferred operating on a real one, but her lack of any semblance of peaceful slumber the night before was beginning to take it's toll. That, and the idea of taking a
simulated scalpel to a simulated amphibian just seemed a bit odd.
Sitting beside her, Ron was busy explaining to Rufus that naked mole rats were not generally used in high school biology classes. Rufus didn't seem quite convinced, crossing his arms and sitting down with a grunt.
Kim shook her head and returned her attention to her computerized frog. Using the mouse, she selected the pins and used them to stake her frog down. Then, following a prompt by the computer, she selected a scalpel. As she brought the virtual blade around to the indicated location, her vision blurred.
She flexed her right hand and the fingernails elongated, slicing through the glove that she was wearing, each nail becoming a five-inch long, razor-sharp blade.
Junior, lying on the floor in front of her, saw this and gave a wordless shriek as he scrambled backwards, trying to get away from her.
"Where do you think you're going, lover boy?" a voice - her voice, yet not - said softly, the tone playful and menacing at the same time. "I thought you liked to play rough."
Kim jerked, breaking away from the vision that had entranced her. Glancing around quickly, she breathed a sigh of relief that no one had noticed her little spell, whatever it was. Frowning, she glanced down at her trembling hands. What was that? she asked silently. No way it could be a memory. But if it's not a memory, then what was it?
She cast a look at Ron, who was leaning forward, studying his computer screen intently as Rufus operated the mouse. "Knife." Ron said. Rufus, who had somehow gotten himself dressed up in a tiny nurse's uniform, gave him a look. "What? That pointy thing there. A knife, right?" Rufus muttered something that Kim couldn't quite hear. "Oh, okay. Scalpel, then."
She turned back to her digital frog. With a quick flick of the mouse, she cut open the frog's stomach. Two more slices, and she was done with the scalpel tool. She was preparing to peel back the resultant flaps of skin when a small window opened on her screen. Wade's face appeared within the window. She blinked. "Uh, hey there, Wade. Fancy seeing you here. So what's the sitch?"
"Kim, I think we've got a problem," Wade said quickly. "Someone hacked the web site last night. They accessed the database that holds all the information about the people who have volunteered transportation for your missions."
Kim blinked. "Any idea what they were looking for?"
"Maybe," Wade replied. "Looks like they were searching for high-speed, long-range transport. They focused on jet aircraft, for the most part. Spent the most time looking at the entry for the 'Avion Rapide' air charter service."
"'Avion Rapide'?" Kim said softly, trying not to attract too much attention. "I helped them out with a runaway Lear last month, right?"
"Right. I contacted Rapide's CEO about it. He told me..." Wade paused, a frown crossing his features.
"Told you... what?" Kim said.
Wade looked up. "Kim, he told me that someone claiming to be you borrowed one of their fastest aircraft."
"WHAT?!" Kim shouted. Her face flushed crimson as everyone turned to look at her.
"Problem, Miss Possible?" the teacher's voice rang out from the front of the classroom.
"No, no problem, Mister Hanson. I was just, well, just..."
Ron peeked over the top of him computer. "She was answering a question for me." he said. "I was trying to figure out what to do with the scissors." Kim shot him an appreciative look, and he smiled back at her.
"Well, if that's all it was. Try to keep it down back there. Oh, and Mister Stoppable, keep your eyes on your own frog."
"Will do, Mr. Hanson." Ron hesitated. "Uh, do you think I can get a new one? I think I broke mine."
Kim turned back to Wade's image. "Let me get this straight - somebody, somebody pretending to be me, stole an airplane?"
Wade shook his head. "Didn't steal it, only borrowed. Dropped it off right where they were supposed to. Mr. Anderton said that she was very polite, even apologized for having to borrow one of his airplanes."
"Oh, well, that makes it all better." Kim thought for a moment. "Any idea where this person went with it?"
Wade nodded. "France. Near Toulon."
"France..." Kim breathed softly. "Toulon. Why does that sound...." She felt a chill run down her spine as she remembered the morning news. "Oh, no. That's where the Seniors are. That's where Junior..."
"Yep." Wade answered. "Probably just a coincidence, but I thought you'd want to check it out, so I've arranged transportation for you. Should be a car arriving in a few minutes to take you to Avion Rapide."
"You rock, Wade. Thanks." Rising to her feet, Kim motioned for Ron to follow her. "Come on, Ron. We've got a mission."
"What about Eugene?" Ron protested as he rose to his feet.
"Who?"
"Eugene," Ron said again, pointing towards his computer. "My frog. I can't just leave him all...
exposed. The humanity of it. And the ASPCA, I'm sure they'd have something to say abo..." He
gulped, catching Kim's glare. "Then again, I'm sure he'll be fine. Mission, right. Let's go."
With an apologetic wave to the teacher, Kim and Ron raced out of the room.
----
End Chapter Two
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