All-Purpose Disclaimer
Kim Possible is a registered subsidiary of the Disney Corporation, and as such is far out of the reach of my grubby, filthy writer's hands. But maybe if I stretch reeeeeaaal hard...
Nope. Not quite.
Kim Possible
The Power of Trust
by Cyberwraith Nine
"The Idol of Simor is a most valuable and very interesting piece. It dates back thousands of years to an ancient sect in Japan that worshipped monkeys, and even sought to emulate them in physical appearance and combat technique."
Professor Umbaum led Kim and Ron through the hallowed and hollow halls of his museum with sharp clicks of his immaculately polished boots. The museum's patrons and staff were absent in light of the recent theft. There were, however, several of London's finest patrolling the building, hunting for clues and dusting for prints. Though respectful of their investigation, Kim barely registered the police's presence. Her mind raced in anticipation of her own analysis of the crime scene.
As they reached the exhibit, Kim asked, "Why would anyone want to steal the idol?" She didn't get the chance to elaborate as the expansive room drew her breath away. Dozens of glass cases littered the center of the space, surrounded on all sides by pedestals and shelves, all containing a rainbow of relics from countless cultures from around the world and throughout history. Each item featured a small paper plaque with its name and a brief history of its purpose. It was a great gathering of all faiths, laid out side by side in what was possibly the largest peaceful conglomeration of religions in any one spot.
"Because they're sick and twisted!" Rather than impressed, Ron was intimidated by the broad array of artifacts. He passed by a small shrunken and shivered, drawing away from the bronzed primate and closer to Kim. Of the thousands of statues, swords, mummified body parts and various knick-knacks that creeped him out, one case in particular stood out, and it was that very same case that Umbaum was leading them to.
"Ignore him," Kim told Umbaum with some chagrin. Now was not the time for Ron's phobia to interfere with their work. "He has a 'thing' about monkeys."
"Quite." As they drew closer, it became apparent that the case's glass was no longer intact; a perfect had been cut into the glass, barely large enough for someone even with hands as small as Kim's to maneuver through, almost too small to have extracted the statue from. "Here is the scene of the caper, Ms. Possible. The Idol was situated here." He pointed to an empty block toward the edge of the display; There was numerous other pieces surrounding it, some decorated garishly with jewels, others crafted from solid gold, yet they showed no signs of tampering.
Kim leaned in, studying the display closely. Her green eyes narrowed upon the spot where the wayward statuette had been. "You said the cameras were disabled?"
"Only for this room," Umbaum replied, "And only for the duration of the crime, apparently. Our other security systems remained active."
"Then the point of entry was in this room." Kim's gaze wandered about, searching high above them. Three of the walls were topped with a long line of windows that stretched from one end to the other. They let in quite a bit of natural light, and doubtless helped the museum lower its running costs. In this case, it had also provided plenty of choices for a door. "One of those. I'd bet my gold locket on it."
Ron frowned, mentally running through a list of Kim's expansive jewelry collection. "What gold locket?" he concluded. With the holidays so close, he had sneaked a peek at her inventory, looking for gift ideas. Buying a gift for the world's greatest cosmopolitan teenage heroine sometimes felt akin to pushing a boulder up a hill for all eternity, if only a little less sweaty.
With an obnoxious smile, Kim replied, "The gold locket you're getting me for Christmas." A simple confession would have been far preferable, and more dignified, than the pathetic spew of sputtering denial that followed from Ron's mouth. To spare him, she simply pointed upward. "Cool it," she said. "Why don't you check out the windows?"
Ron frowned. He had been so careful, sneaking around jewelry shops that he figured were far from his best friend's scope of influence. "Cheater."
"But before you go..." Kim reached out and dug into Ron's cargo pocket, retrieving Rufus before Ron began scaling atop the cases to hoist himself to the windowsill. As he climbed and Umbaum fretted (lest his feet slip and destroy a priceless artifact), Kim lifted Rufus to the hole in the case. What was small for her hand was more than wide enough for his undulating pink body. "Think you can scout around?" she asked him.
Rufus snapped to attention with a salute and a squeak. He dove from Kim's hand, through the thieves handiwork and into the case. He immediately bean shuffling and snuffling all the remaining pieces of the exhibit. Umbaum winced and hissed sympathetically as the mole rat tossed his priceless pieces about, but nothing was visibly damaged. Still, the curator's face contorted in such a manner that Kim honestly wondered if they would have to call for an ambulance.
Ron called down from one of the windows, "Gold star, Kim!"
He waved a tiny wisp of black cloth that had been caught in the windowsill. Kim snatched the scrap as he tossed it down. Then she forced a giggle back down into her throat as she watched him scramble down from his high perch. Once he was down, Kim examined the scrap carefully. It stretched slightly at a tug, and was smooth to the touch. Bringing it to her face, its subtle, musky odor became apparent.
She was about to comment when Rufus popped his head from the case. The mole rat chattered excitedly as he waved a tiny strand of brown fur clutched in his claw. "Jackpot!" Rufus squeaked.
"Nice work, boys." Kim said with a smile. She took the strand in one hand as her other retrieved the Kimmunicator. With a flick of her thumb, she called up an image of their online advisor. "Wade, I need a DNA analysis on a hair we found."
"Comin' right up, Kim." The top of the Kimmunicator opened up, revealing a pair of snapping tweezers that snatched Rufus' find up and drew it back into the device. "It'll be a while."
A snort of disbelief blasted from Ron's flaring nostrils. "What good's a DNA test? S'not like Wade has a DNA match for everyone on the planet."
"I have yours," Wade retorted smugly.
"What? How did you...?" Ron began patting his extremities, as if the gap of missing genetic code would reveal itself. "Where'd you get it?"
Kim moaned in irritation. "Cool it, guys. It's just a hunch."
Umbaum seemed intrigued and delighted. "Have you any idea as to the identity of the culprits, Ms. Possible?" he inquired politely.
"Maybe." Kim examined the scene carefully. The criminals had been savvy enough to temporarily scramble the museum's alarms and surveillance on a localized level, but rushed enough to cut through the glass case rather than pick its lock and risk detection from a night-duty guard. "Whoever they were, they're good. Really subtle, too."
"Yeah," Ron agreed. He glanced at the exhibit room's door and lifted his arm to point. "Not at all like those guys."
"Everybody FREEZE!" A slim, athletic blonde posed in the doorway, framed on either side with a trio of large, thick, and very surly thugs dressed in matching black togs and caps, making their numbers seven in all. And to the far left, away from the action, a skinny youth lugged a very large and expensive-looking camera on his shoulder, filming the bold, grandstanding entrance. "We're here for the valuables. No heroics, and no one gets hurt."
Kim blinked, and then blinked again, and then a third time for good measure. "Uh...Adrena Lynn?"
Adrienne 'Adrena' Lynn did her own double take as her eyes rested upon the teen heroes. Her reaction was immediate and violent. "Kim Possible! What are you doing here?"
"Me?" Kim shot back, "Shouldn't you be wherever C-list villains go when they're washed up?"
Umbaum approached the gaggle of thieves. His moustache bristled with ire and his wizen hands were curled into shaking fists. "Young lady, I demand to know what you are doing here. Where are the Inspectors?"
One of the thugs raised a long, nasty rifle. With a clap of thunder, a whirling bolo leapt from the end of his gun and wrapped Umbaum in an embrace of steel cord. The impact knocked the elderly man down and sent him sliding, until a marble pedestal kindly stopped him.
Leering, Adrena Lynn sniped, "They're tied up at the moment." She was about to continue when the chortling of one of her henchmen spoiled the moment. A nasty glare silenced him forthwith, earning her a muttered, apathetic apology before she returned to her standoff. She added, "Clever of you to try and outmaneuver me like this, Kimmie. You've always been my greatest foe."
Kim and Ron exchanged puzzled glances and helpless shrugs before they adopted twin fighting stances. Only their expressions differed; hers was a hardened scowl, while he wore features twisted in confusion. "Actually," Ron quipped, "I think we can write this one up in chapter twelve of our' Big Book of Coincidences.' Freaky." He seemed more amused than anything. Even Rufus chirped with confidence as he crawled back into his pal's pocket.
Kim, however, had reached the end of her rope. Between the lousy weather back home, the hysterically bad date she still stung from, Monique's good natured and ill-timed ribbing about her non-crush on Ron, all piled atop the mounting stress of the holidays...In short, she was ready to vent her frustrations on this writer's convenience. "Can we skip past the hero/villain banter and get straight to the fight?" she huffed with an air of impatience.
"Henchmen," Lynn crowed with outstretched arm, "ATTACK!"
A wall of beefy British muscle barreled their way, bearing down on the heroes in a heartbeat. Naturally, Kim's mind had no trouble keeping up with Lynn's amateurish tactics, to say nothing of her own lightning reflexes. "You take the henchmen," she called back as she took to the air, "Stunt Girl's mine."
"Oka-what?" Ron paled at the odds, but it was too late. Kim had already vaulted off a flunky's impossibly broad shoulders to escape the tidal wave of ass-whomping he now faced alone. For their part, the henchmen seemed content to pound the daylights out of Kim's pasty, unassuming sidekick first before taking her on directly. Gritting his teeth, Ron couldn't quite swallow his grimace. "Dandy."
Three quick handsprings carried Kim across the cool tile and straight into melee with Lynn. She knew the former extreme athlete was fast, but Kim wasn't expecting the blur of white tank top that sped around her. The heroine lashed out with boot and glove, but Lynn proved to be too fast for either.
"You like my new moves?" Lynn must have noticed Kim's surprise. A smug, self-satisfied smirk swam on her lips. "I've been taking Tai Chi."
"Um..."
"EXTREME Tai Chi!" she added, lashing out with her own attacks. "Like it?"
Kim rolled her eyes. "Tré chic. Now check into Kung Fu." Adrena Lynn's moves were slick, but store bought, and still had that packaged smell about them. The skills and conditioning were there, but it was experience she lacked, and Kim had that in spades. She feinted left as Lynn circled around, calling the athlete's arms up to block a kick that wasn't coming. Instead, Kim chopped and caught her on the shoulder blade. Dropping her feinting foot, she sent Lynn stumbling forward and on her knees.
"Not bad, Kimmie." A growl rumbled from Lynn's throat as she glared back. Her foot burrowed into Kim's stomach as the heroine grew too ambitious and knocked her back, allowing Lynn a chance to regain her footing. "Let's try another take."
Air rushed into Kim's aching chest, and then streamed out as she blew a lock of red hair back into place. "You okay, Ron?" she called out as she rejoined the battle.
"Just peachy!" Ron barely had enough breath for the two words. He moved as water dancing between rock and rapids, rolling off the massive fists sent his way. The wind of a particularly meaty hand tussled his blond locks as he sidled up the arm. Too close to be stopped, Ron planted his fist in the man's chest and sent him flying into a case filled with tiny statues and urns.
"Please, Mister Stoppable!" Umbaum wailed, "Those are priceless totems from Mesopotamia!"
"Sorry," Ron called unconvincingly as he ducked a second and third assault. The other thugs were already on top of him, seeking to pick up the slack. They moved to flank the poor sidekick even as their fallen friend picked himself from the ruined relics and dusted the remains of an early Neolithic shaman from his woolen sweater.
Sensing her best friend's rising panic, Kim tried to move her own fight closer to his. But Lynn would have none of it; Though she was no match for Kim in a straight fight, Adrena Lynn knew enough to weave in and out of the priceless pieces around the room. She herded Kim further and further from Ron, cutting either teen off from any chance of mutual support. With no other option, Kim swallowed her despair and waited for an opening, trying to create one with a little old-fashioned trash talk.
"So what's with the new you, Lynn?" taunted Kim. She bobbed and weaved past a line of tiki gods, taking a few experimental swipes at her foe along the way. "Got tired of being a loser?"
If Lynn felt anything at the dig, she kept it hidden well. Kim's mild attacks were brushed aside as she retorted, "I decided to shift my paradigm."
"But why a museum? I didn't think you could even spell the word."
Lynn scoffed. "But I can spell 'comeback,' and that takes cash. And there's plenty of musty old guys out there ready to take this stuff off my hands." Lynn's foot hooked over a large pottery vase, nearly taking Kim's pretty nose with it.
Kim threw a thumb back at the roving cameraman. Throughout the fight, he had yet to do anything other than catch all of Lynn's 'extreme' new moves. "And that? Can't say that filming your own crime spree ranks among the top ten smartest things to do."
"It's a new angle." Stars shone brightly in Lynn's eyes at the thought of returning to the hearts and minds of viewers everywhere. Lynn waved her hand in a panning motion that crossed the room as she said, "Bad girl goes good, turns to charity drives and big events to atone for a brief, yet tragic, stint with evil."
"Gag me with a fork." Kim choked on the nonsense as she stuffed her foot into Adrena Lynn's face.
Ron, in the meantime, had more on his plate than he would have cared for. He was keeping the six at bay, but a lot of property damage was resulting at the same time. Every time a telltale crash resonated, the still-bound Umbaum began shouting furiously at Kim's sidekick.
CRUNCH!
"Mister Stoppable, that was a priceless Mayan tablet! It was appraised at over thirteen million pounds!"
Ron caught a fist the size of his head and twisted it, breaking the thug's wrist. Then he cartwheeled back as two more took the whimpering man's place. "You said it was priceless!" Ron cried back.
Cheek pressed to the floor, Umbaum could only snort scornfully. "I spoke of its intellectual value."
Another urn stood between Ron and his attackers, and was shattered thusly. "Well, I'm trying to concentrate on my physical value right now!"
"That was a-"
The face of a fallen foe served as Ron's springboard as he leapt into the air and over a case. He landed on the opposite side, separated and safe from the four remaining henchmen for the moment. "Oh come on," he groused, "You couldn't even see that one!"
Umbaum called back, "I could hear it."
"Crud." Ron watched as the henchmen decided on a more direct solution to Ron's escape, and crashed through enough ancient baubles to amount to sums of cash Ron would likely never see in this or any other eon. He backed away as the tidal wave of testosterone resumed its chase, spreading out to box him in. Desperately searching, his hand came upon the hilt of a short blade recently freed from its former case. He waved it under the nose of the nearest thug. "Now the blade's sharpened on the other side!" he taunted.
There was a general glance of confusion between his enemies at the jibe. Even Rufus shrugged, helpless. Umbaum, on the other hand, was absolutely livid. "MISTER Stoppable, I simply must protest. That happens to be a ceremonial dagger used in circumcision rituals!"
A pause arose in the standoff as Ron gaped incredulously at his weapon. Even the thugs shrank back from the rusty blade. "Seriously? Ewww!" Ron dropped the dagger in a flash and shook his hand as if it were burnt. An expression of pure disgust exploded on his features, even as a pair of meaty arms encircled him from behind and lifted him bodily from the floor.
"Gotcha!" The forth (and craftiest) thug crowed.
Ron didn't hear him. "Eh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heewwwwwww!" he moaned.
Adrena Lynn lay at Kim's feet, muttering dizzily about promos and primetime. The villain vanquished, Kim sprinted across the field of strewn debris. "Hold on, Ron!"
Legs pumping, eyes narrowed and determined, Kim careened toward the remaining quartet now gathered around Ron. Thousands upon thousands of tactical scenarios cropped up on her mind, stemming from sixteen styles and over ten years of martial arts. A little luck and a few well-placed kicks were all she needed to free Ron and wrap this up. Kim cleared her mind and leapt into the air, ready to pummel some bad guy and save her friend.
Her war cry became a shortened yelp as the thug she aimed for reached up and snatched her from midair, encasing her foot in a grip like warm steel. She swung with momentum as he held her aloft, keeping her at such height so her inverted face leveled off with Ron's. "Huh." She said at last.
"Hey KP." There was no blame in Ron's voice, nor even any sarcasm. "Glad you could make it."
"These guys are a lot bigger up close."
He snorted a short laugh. "Yeah, tell me about it."
"Wanna try the Denver Mint shuffle?"
"You're on."
The pair moved in simultaneous actions; Ron's legs swung up and caught Kim's captor square under his chin before any of the thugs even had a chance to act, even while Kim flexed her flattened abs and brought her body up in an inverted uppercut to Ron's captor. Henchmen went flying and heroes went free in the space of a heartbeat. Once on the ground, Ron's foot rose in a devastating side kick that blasted the thug to his left. Kim dropped to the floor on her hands and twisted, delivering a windmill kick that drove the remaining thug back.
"Well," Ron chirped happily as Kim flipped back onto her feet. "That went pretty well."
"Better even than in Denver," Kim agreed.
But Kim and Ron weren't the only ones who could act as one. The thugs regrouped and all drew small, black sidearms from beneath their heavy pullovers. Where they had gotten such things in England, as well as the question of why they hadn't used them before, were all very good questions that sadly had no time to be answered. "Enough of this," one thug groused. "I didn't go through grad school t'deal wit this crap."
Hands in the air, Kim and Ron shared another incredulous look. "You went to grad school? And you're robbing museums?" Kim asked.
"Student loans don't pay for th'mselves, love." He barked. "Now jus' lie th' bloody hell down."
"Huh. Takes all kinds." Ron shook his head.
He would have said more, but was cut short by a dark shadow darting across his field of vision. The blur struck among the thugs, driving a wedge between them. Gunfire went wild, and Kim and Ron dove for cover behind one of the few remaining artifact pedestals.
Blind to the fighting, they listened for a few precious seconds as the thunderclap of bullets echoed in the small room. Kim seemed more agitated than usual, and very confused. "Not that I'm ungrateful," she grunted, "But what the hell just happened?"
"Looks like we've got a three-oh-eight, KP." Ron exchanged glanced with Rufus.
Oddly enough, this was one of Ron's bizarre, eclectic games she was familiar with. But her quizzical frown only deepened. "Runaway train about to plow into a bus full of nuns?"
"What? No...Wait." He scowled. "Rufus, what is...No, wait! A two-seven-four!"
"Gangrenous elephant in need of medical attention?"
"Damn it. Kim, which one is 'benevolent ninja lending mysterious aid'?"
Kim shook her head. "Could we figure this one out later?" She launched herself from their hiding space, vaulting over the fertility goddess that stood on their cover. With a sigh and a shake of his head, Ron followed.
Their friend, who was indeed some sort of ninja, had dispatched with two of the thugs, but at the expense of his position. The other two had him flanked, boxing him in and keeping him dancing with a set of wicked daggers. One of them tore into his charcoal robes, revealing pale, milky skin beneath. It would only be a matter of time before the blades drew blood. Wasting no time, Kim launched into another flying side kick. This time, there was no one to catch her, and her boot struck true on the back of the thug's head. The blow knocked him unconscious instantly, and sent him flying into his friend. They landed in a heap, and neither one stirred.
For a moment, the ninja and Kim stared each other down. Though the battle was technically over, their rescuer had yet to relax. His hooded features hidden, only his eyes were revealed, a pair of almond slits that glared at Kim with suspicion. Kim decided that she would have to be the one to extend her thanks first. "Um. Hi. Listen, I wanted to-"
Kim started as the ninja raised his hand and flicked a finger in the direction behind her. It took a half-second to realize that it was a warning, not an attack, and another half-second to spin in place. It turned out to be just enough time to see one of the henchmen they had supposedly dropped, sitting up and covered in ruined artifacts. His arm was fully extended, and a glint of silver traversed the room at blinding speed, streaking toward Kim's head.
A hand flashed before her widened jade eyes, stopping the tip of the dagger mere centimeters from her nose between closed fingers. Just as quickly, the hand flicked out and returned the knife to its owner. The blade's hilt quivered, buried in the resilient marble of a pedestal with the thug's hand sandwiched between. He roared in agony and tugged uselessly at the knife; he wouldn't be going anywhere soon.
Kim's heart pounded with adrenaline as she followed the hand's arm back up to its owner's face. Ron's freckled features darkened with intensity, never leaving the thug whose knife he had returned. "Ron?" she stuttered in a breath.
The moment passed, and Ron blinked as if awakening from a terrible nightmare. "I, uh...um...heh."
"How did...?" She felt like asking someone to pinch her. What just happened?
He rubbed the back of his neck, abashed and biting his lip. "Just lucky, I guess."
"You have always relied heavily on your luck, Ron-san."
The voice had come from the ninja, and it was surprisingly sultry. Still wrapped in thick swathes of black, the ninja approached the duo slowly. Each step sang a symphony of grace and perfect poise. Gingerly, the ninja lifted the heavy robe from his frame, letting it drop to the floor. Beneath was a thin shadow suit that clung to a decidedly feminine form. It was then that Kim realized that 'he' wasn't so 'he' after all. Last to vanish was the heavy hood; the ninja unwrapped her face, unveiling high cheekbones and full, pouting lips sculpted into beautiful bronzed skin beneath silky waves of midnight hair.
"But then," she smirked, "You always were the lucky one, were you not?" She sauntered over with swaying hips, and snared his shoulder in a tight embrace. Ron's already pasty features paled visibly as she ran a finger down his nose and traced his lips.
"Yori-"was all he could stutter before her lips crashed against his, stealing a kiss with ravenous abandon.
A series of tiny pops echoed in Kim's ears, and a distant part of her mind wondered if that was the sounds of her tight fists cracking at the knuckles, or simply the noise the bursting blood vessels in her head were making. "Nice to meet you," she growled.
To Be Continued
