Kim Possible and all related characters and indicia are owned by the Disney Corporation. Supergirl and all related characters and indicia are owned by DC Comics/Warner Bros. This work of fan fiction is written for pleasure, not profit.
Kim pushed aside her plate and unfolded the complimentary copy of the Daily Planet that had been delivered to their room that morning. Ron was just settling back into his seat at the table they were sharing in the Continental Room, having returned from a raid on the breakfast buffet with a plate piled high with scrambled eggs, hash browns and sausage. He'd already eaten one plateful, and if he held true to form, would go back at least once more. After pouring himself another cup of coffee, Ron attacked his food, and Kim began skimming the headlines.
"Anything interesting?" Ron asked around a mouthful of eggs.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Kim chided, not looking up from her reading. "The front page is all about Supergirl," she added.
"No surprise there," Ron observed, and Kim nodded.
"The main headline is 'Supergirl Battles Fire' and right under that is 'Girl of Steel returns to Metropolis'."
"Mmhm," Ron vocalized. He waved his fork in a circular gesture that said 'And?'. Kim quickly skimmed the page.
"The main story is basically a rehash of what was on the news last night," she told him. Last night, when they had been getting ready for bed, and even after they had turned in, Ron had the TV tuned in to the local news channel. He'd stayed up late, watching the coverage of the dock fire, even after Kim had drifted off to sleep. "There are some interesting side stories though," she said speculatively.
"Such as?" Ron prodded.
Kim cleared her throat. "Where is Superman?" she read aloud. "Supergirl's return to Metropolis has raised questions regarding the whereabouts of the Man of Steel. With the exception of her first and third appearances, Supergirl's presence in the city has indicated the absence of Superman." Kim paused and looked up at Ron. Ron met her gaze. "Sounds reasonable to me," he shrugged.
Kim's eyes returned to the paper. She read down a bit before she spoke again. "When asked about Superman's absence, Supergirl declined to comment, saying only that 'Metropolis will see plenty of her favorite son'." Kim read on in silence. Finally she put the paper down and looked at Ron. "I am SO glad we don't have to put up with this kind of scrutiny. I mean, having our every word and move analyzed and speculated about?" She shuddered. "I don't think I could handle that kind of attention." Ron didn't say anything, and his expression was slightly apprehensive. He was pointing with his fork at something behind her. Kim turned warily. Standing a short distance away was a slender, attractive blonde in her mid thirties. She wore a stylish suit, with a skirt instead of pants, and carried a designer purse along with a notebook computer. A plastic card that bore the Daily Planet logo hung from the left breast pocket of her jacket. With her, clearly in tow, was a teenaged boy perhaps a bit younger than Kim and Ron. He had a shock of unruly red hair and carried a camera and several film and equipment bags. Kim groaned inwardly, but managed a faint smile. The blonde returned it with a cloying sweet smile of her own.
"I didn't mean to interrupt your meal," the new arrival said apologetically.
"That's all right," Kim lied, "We were almost done." The blonde nodded. "I'm Catherine Grant, society reporter for the Daily Planet," she introduced herself, still smiling.
Kim snorted. "I've heard of you, Ms. Grant. Don't you mean 'gossip columnist'?" Kim added, more acidly than she'd intended. To her surprise, genuine warmth crept into Grant's sugary grin.
"I suppose that's a more honest way of putting it," Grant allowed. "Seriously, if this isn't a good time..."
Kim shook her head. "No, that's all right. We really were almost done." She glanced at Ron, who looked mournfully at his half full plate. Kim couldn't help smiling. "Well, I am, anyway," she corrected. "Why don't you join us?" She gestured at the small table's two other chairs. Grant and her companion complied. When they were seated Kim laced her fingers and got right to the point. "So, what can I do for you, Ms. Grant?"
"First, you can call me 'Cat' if you like," Grant said. She gestured across the table at her companion. "This, by the way, is Jimmy Olsen. He's a staff photographer with the Planet." Kim noticed that Olsen, who was kind of cute in an awkward, gangly sort of way, puffed up with obvious pride when Grant called him a staff photographer. Kim hid a smile. She suspected that a check would find Olsen listed as an intern, or perhaps by the older term 'cub reporter'.
"Second," Grant continued, "The reason I'm here is that we got a call on our news tip line that you were in town, staying at this hotel. You're something of a celebrity, and covering celebrities is my job, so here I am."
"Fair enough," Kim agreed. "So what would you like to know?"
"Let's start with the obvious," Grant began. "What brings you to Metropolis?"
"I'm on vacation," Kim replied. Grant gave her a dubious look. "Seriously," Kim confirmed. "My mom is attending a medical conference at the U of M, and she and my dad brought my brothers and I along." Grant nodded.
"And which brother is this?" she asked, indicating Ron.
"Oh no," Kim corrected, shaking her head. "My brothers Jim and Tim are twins, and only eleven years old. This is my friend Ron Stoppable."
"Boyfriend?" Grant asked coyly.
Ron choked on his food and had to struggle not to spit it out. Kim put a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles. "No," she said, chuckling. "Ron's not my boyfriend. He's...well," Kim looked at Grant, trying to explain. "Ron and I live across the street from each other, and we've know each other since, like, forever." She gave Ron a fond look. "Ron's like, well, like a..."
"We're like brothers," Ron supplied, his expression grave, his voice serious, but his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Or sisters," Kim rejoined, an impish smile on her face. "Or like brother and sister," Ron finished, and the two grinned at each other. "That, and Ron is the other half of Team Possible, of course," Kim added.
The interview ended up lasting a hour, and by the end of it, Kim was enjoying herself immensely. Cat was a much nicer person than Kim had expected, and smarter, too. She asked a lot of insightful questions, and knew how to draw answers out of people. She might be 'only' a gossip columnist, but she was a good reporter. Jimmy Olsen, though he was a bit shy at first, had joined in as well, and asked some good questions, as well as taking a couple of dozen pictures. Before the two left Cat sketched out the stories she had planned, one that would be in the regular paper the next day, and a more involved one for the Sunday edition.
"That was actually pleasant," Kim commented when the two had gone.
"I'll say," Ron agreed. "I wonder why she doesn't cover regular news?"
In the late afternoon of the next day, Kim and Ron returned to the hotel to find a message waiting for them. Or rather, for Kim.
"It's not a message, exactly," the clerk behind the front desk explained. "It's actually a package." Reaching beneath the counter he produced a small box wrapped in silver and white paper, tied up with a metallic blue ribbon. A label on the box read 'To Miss Kimberly Anne Possible, from an Admirer'. Kim and Ron shared a look.
"What did the person who delivered this look like?" she asked.
The clerk frowned thoughtfully. "A younger fellow, maybe in his twenties. Wiry, wearing bicycle shorts, shirt and helmet. A bike messenger," he finished with a shrug.
"Let's see what it is," Ron suggested. Kim removed the wrapping to reveal a felt covered jewelry box about two inches on a side. With a puzzled frown, Kim opened the lid. Nested inside the box, on a bed of black satin, was a golf ball. A golf ball that began to hiss as soon as the box was opened.
"Get down!" Kim cried. A fountain stood in the center of the hotel's lobby, and she threw the ball into it, box and all, even as she jumped over the counter and dragged the clerk to the floor. Ron dropped to the floor and covered his head with his arms.
BOOM! The lobby shook as the bomb went off, and water sprayed everywhere. When the immediate danger was past, Kim rolled off the clerk. "Call 911," she commanded fiercely, then stood up to survey the damage. Fortunately, it was light. The ball bomb had been relatively small, and the water in the fountain had absorbed much of the power of the blast. Still, there were a few people down. She vaulted the desk, pausing just long enough to see that Ron was unhurt. He was already up and heading for one of the casualties.
"I'm just grateful no one was hurt," Kim said, hanging her head. She was seated in one the lobby's chairs. "That was stupid of me," she castigated herself, "opening that box like that. I should have suspected a bomb."
"Don't be too hard on yourself." Kim looked up. Lieutenant Maggie Sawyer, of the Metropolis Police Department's Special Crimes Unit, was shaking her head. "I wouldn't have thought a package that small could hold a bomb that powerful." Sawyer was a tough looking woman, thin, with a pinched face. A smoldering cigar was clenched in her teeth. She and her team had arrived hard on the heels of the first uniformed officers to reach the hotel and gone right to work examining the crime scene. Kim regarded Sawyer thoughtfully. The other woman was in her forties, with a nearly unnoticeable bosom and hair almost as short as Ron's, The first adjective that came to Kim's mind when she saw her was 'mannish'. That probably wasn't a fair description though, and Kim wondered if the way Sawyer presented herself was an act. She shrugged. That wasn't important at the moment.
What was important was that Duff Killigan had tried to kill her. Her Kimmunicator beeped.
"What have you got, Wade?" she demanded.
"I've run down every rumor and scrap of information I could find on Killigan's recent whereabouts. Everything points to Metropolis, but I'm afraid I can't give you a positive location."
"What can you give us?" Kim asked.
"I have three locations where Killigan has been sighted recently, but none of them seems to be a proper lair."
"They're a start at least," Kim said grimly. "Ron and I will check them out." She signed off, and turned to Lt. Sawyer. "I hope you don't mind us taking a look around town?" she asked.
Sawyer shook her head slowly. "Not at all, Ms. Possible, but..." The lawwoman held up one hand. "There'll be no taking the law into your own hands, understood? You find Killigan, you call us, and we'll deal with him." It wasn't a request. Kim nodded. "I understand," she acknowledged. She turned to Ron. "After dinner, you and I are going out on the town, so get your stuff ready," she commanded. Ron responded with predatory smile. "Will do, K.P."
