Disclaimer: Characters from Reno 911 appear courtesy of Comedy Central. Slightly more adult language and situations, viewer discretion advised.

Outskirts of Reno, Nevada.

"Sorry, dispatch. See, I thought you actually said robots… What was that?" This was not gonna be a good one, not in the slightest damn degree, Officers Weigel and Garcia of the Sheriff's department thought between themselves during a rare moment of inactivity. People had been reporting robot sightings all over town, and Garcia bristled behind his mirrored sunglasses at the very thought of it. "Yeah, I heard you. Seventeen eyewitness accounts, all – What is it, Weigel?" She wasn't in the right frame of mind to deal with this either; apparently SOMEONE just had to take the last handful of cherry Twizzlers from her personal candy jar. And what's worse, Garcia had the sheer nerve to float them in his coffee! What kind of diseased mind thinks of stuff like that? He tried to apologize so many times, but Trudy just tuned him out. She was all about business now, waving her nightstick at the bizarre sight approaching their parked squad car; a bizarre sight indeed that appeared to be a naked girl, covered in silver paint and carrying two limp bodies

"Looks like this is our girl. You gonna get up and let me out? That dick Dangle keyed the driver's side when he claimed I ran over his friggin' bicycle last week." Ignoring Garcia's pleas, Weigel rolled her eyes lazily and reached over to push the door open for him, which could obviously still be done from the inside. Honestly, the man was like an overgrown child sometimes! The robot was caught in the headlights of the idling car, its sculpted lips curling into a feral snarl. As the red glow of its eyes intensified, seemingly concentrating on something, Garcia fumbled in the darkness for his gun just as Weigel fired off a shot of her own. The Mecha-Kim swung around, utterly indifferent to the bullet lodged in her chest, and sped off into the night again.

"Wow. You know what? Let's just not bother writing this one up", Garcia drawled before wiping powdered sugar from his moustache. "I feel like stopping by the 7-Eleven for some more of that coffee…" With a heavy sigh of resignation, Trudy Weigel suddenly took a swing at her partner's right hip with her nightstick, snapping at him. "You owe me for those Twizzlers, asshole."

The Bebe Hive situated beneath Alkali Lake.

The two human captives were made ready for processing; both Kim and Ron's superficial wounds tended to by the silent mannequin-like older model Bebe drones. Lying naked on cold steel frames, they were vaguely aware of the procedures, but only Ron managed to regain his consciousness on the operating table. Deep chocolate-brown eyes drifted open slowly, squinting under the glare of bright fluorescent lighting, and Ron found himself simply too weak to move anything larger than his head while the distant sounds of the hive reverberated all around the teenaged couple. Kim's prone body was being subjected to a routine physical examination by one of the newer model drones, another Mecha-Kim that pulled sections of its polished metal "skin" away to experimentally press them against Kim's bare flesh. The disjointed thoughts swirled in his head, pulling themselves together slowly as the paranoia began to set in. The Bebes weren't just making themselves like Kim because she was fully capable of kicking any amount of butt; they were trying to conform to his personal standards!

He feebly croaked "Sick and wrong…" as one of the Mecha-Kim drones lifted his lower body to turn him over onto one side. Letting out a totally involuntary chuckle as smooth, rounded fingers of clinically cold metal traced the shape of his buttocks, Ron suddenly froze as those fingers became sharp, biting into his flesh and exploring. Cold sweat poured down his face in rivulets, his fevered mind racing as the robot's fingers withdrew from the incision, a tiny microchip tracking device held between them. She wasn't putting it into him; Ron's brain informed him as he watched the whole horrible incident reflected in the mirrored walls. Somebody had put the chip in him, probably just to keep tabs on him, and now they wouldn't be able to… Wondering who it could have been, Ron began to close his eyes dreamily, a rhythmic pounding noise like the beating of artificial hearts starting to send him back off to sleep. Kim had vanished from her "bed" a short while ago, and he hadn't even noticed. Had she escaped and fled from the hive to get help? Did the Bebes succeed in transforming her into one of them? Or, did they…? No. He mustn't think like that, the "Rational Ron" voice in his head told him. Slipping into a subconscious conversation with his own brain's left hemisphere, Stoppable pushed away all the outside distractions while the Bebe robots did their thing. Not worried in the slightest about the risks to his own mental well-being, Ron let his rational, lateral-thinking side talk him into the most controversial decision of his life. He was going to take control of the Bebe hive mind, still too close to Bonnie Rockwaller for comfort, and try to steer it on the path to righteousness. It went without saying that he had the perfect role model in mind…

Kim Possible was safe, alive and well for the time being, her injuries patched up with some kind of weird mercurial substance. She had made no attempt to peel it away from her body despite the ever-present rational voice in her own mind, but as her gaze travelled down her own modestly-clothed form, Kim saw the crawling lines of blue light on her skin. Then, she was joined by two more of "herself", the drones extending those needle-tipped fingers toward the patches of liquid chrome stuck over the superficial flesh wounds. Almost sighing, the Mecha-Kim that held tightly to her arm looked down at the human on the operating table and appeared to smile in a gentle, apologetic manner as her eyes glowed a soft shade of green. Bebes never did that! But this, this wasn't a Bebe, it was her friend. It was her, and Kim dreamily smiled back at the "reflection" as it began to feed some kind of clear liquid into her veins… "Wake up, Possible. Don't you see what they're doing to you?" Oh great, now her own left hemisphere was starting to get lippy with her, and she began to tell it off right back.

"Look, I know what I'm doing. Cut it out, everything's under control…"

"No, the only thing that's under control is you. Under their control." How could that be? Kim was 100 sure she was keeping those monsters out of her head, they weren't going to corrupt her with their insidious emotionless logic. Kimberly Anne Possible was above all that, she shouted at the rational voice.

"Fine. Suit yourself, Kim," the voice replied. "Welcome to Stockholm. Population: you."

And with that, the voice of her rational side shut itself up, content to sit back and quietly analyze everything while dispensing occasional advice. Outside her head now, Kim saw the gleaming metal of her captor's left arm as she peered out from behind the oppressive haze of cold unfeeling machine logic that she could feel pressing against her, squeezing her mind and attempting to choke her soul. Should it really be bending that way, she thought to herself? It doesn't seem to be hurting her, but the rational voice taunted her, whispering "Stockholm…" So, Kim lifted her own left arm out of pure instinct, staring in shock as the silvery surface of that slender robotic arm moved under the power of her own muscles. It was… She was… It was her, and she was it. "Ron," she whimpered meekly in an attempt to distance herself from the cold analytical logic of the Bebe hive mind, desperate for even the briefest tiny little moment of comfortable absurdity as she stared in rapt horror at the asymmetrical patchwork of metal and flesh her body had become. Ron would understand, it was ingrained in his nature and Kim knew him all too well, her eyes drifting half-closed in that dreamy smile once more. He wouldn't disappoint her, and her own subconscious desire was soon fulfilled as the ceiling began to bulge downward rather ominously. Screaming as his escape plan went horribly awry, Ron Stoppable found himself dangling upside-down and struggling to cover his private areas as his thin hospital gown surrendered to gravity's embrace.

"We really gotta stop meetin' like this, huh?" Same old Ron, Kim chuckled to herself as she looked up at him with a coquettish smile. Joining her, the two drones responsible for the radical change in her appearance (and nothing else, she repeatedly kept telling her left hemisphere) also burst into peals of good-natured laughter as they pulled Ron free of the cable that tangled itself around his ankles. Interested, Kim turned her gaze onto the robots and squinted, trying to get rid of the fuzzy shapes and little squiggly lines that lined her field of vision. Shocked back into absolute lucidity by the realization of what they'd done to her, Kim opened her mouth to whimper again. She could actually read words in the stream of squiggly horizontal lines flashing under her eyes! She was seeing in Bebe-vision! The next shock hit her like an 18-wheeler as her voice began to intone every word.

"Ron Stoppable. Status: optimal", she droned in mechanical monotone before clapping both hands over her mouth like she was trying to not be sick. Inwardly, Kim Possible told her rational mind with an exasperated sigh, "The weather's nice in Stockholm. Wish you were here…" His brows knitted with the effort of concentration, Ron mouthed the word back at her even though she was totally sure she never said anything out loud.

"Stockholm? You mean they've brought us all the way to England?" Distressed, Ron reached out to take Kim's hands in his own, and she found it strange that he didn't call attention to the fact that she was clearly Bebe-fied, even as she corrected him.

"Ron, Stockholm is in Sweden. And we're still in America, okay?" He nodded slowly, an eerily calm smile on his face as Kim noticed the slight smell of anaesthetic drugs about his skin, which reminded her of the "hospital" smell that her mother disliked so much… Strangely, he just gave her a prize-winning smile and agreed with her, causing her to finally ask him, "Ron? Can you hear or see things that I'm thinking to myself?" As she caught a glimpse of her face in the mirrored walls, Kim bit her lip and gave the reflection a worried second glance while Ron considered her question. Most of the left side of her head was covered with a Bebe face-plate, sculpted to be a perfect likeness of her own true self, which she kind of expected at this point anyway… Concerned for their mutual physical and emotional state, Ron lightly patted the back of Kim's still-human hand and gave his response. "I thought we knew each other for so long that we could just do that anyway," he whispered to her.

Lipsky family residence, Lowerton IL.

Shego had been particularly evasive since the Possibles had mentioned Ron Stoppable, and she had actually stormed out to sit on the back porch shortly after the mention of his name. Taking this as a bad sign, Andrea thought it best to let the young-looking woman go. Drakken had often seen her get this way, particularly after Kim Possible and that forgettable sidekick of hers (what was that name again?) foiled one of his brilliant schemes to dominate the world, and he took it upon himself to spy on her very closely. She would always reach into that holster wrapped around her left leg and produce a cell-phone, but since Shego suspected she was being watched in her employer's lair, she would always send these mysterious communications in the form of text-messages that Drakken couldn't trace, let alone figure out how to send on his own. All too suddenly inside the small bungalow, Andrea's own phone rang. Casually flipping it open and checking the screen for caller ID, Mrs. Dr. Possible winked at her husband before asking, "What's the sitch?" just to see Dr. Drakken jump and look around uneasily with a bottle of chocolate syrup in his hand.

"Maureen, Tom, it's so good to hear from you! Well, we didn't want to worry you, but Kim and Ron have run into a little problem over in Las Vegas, yes…" She paused to take a sip from the cup of hot fresh coffee her husband had placed next to her on the end table, watching Shego return to her seat and put her feet up on the coffee table, completely ignoring Drakken's attempt at scolding her as she sniffled and blinked to clear her eyes.

"Shego, mother doesn't like it when she finds scuff marks on the furniture, remember?"

"Oh, go and scuff yourself", the girl spat back in her typical sarcastic tone, about ready to take Drakken into the supply closet for a beating herself. Meanwhile, Andrea continued relaying the news to Tom and Maureen, the Stoppables.

"Yes, that's right… Kim's friend Wade, who maintains her internet site, called us first to tell us. When did he call you?" Putting down the phone, Mrs. Dr. Possible's eyes grew wide with fear as Shego subtly perked up one pencil-thin brow, listening in.

"Well, honey, what is it? Did Wade get through to them?" As Drakken sat down to enjoy his favourite beverage, Shego rolled her eyes at him, warning him not to start any of that "Cocoa-Moo" garbage again, keeping one ear open…

"Jon, they don't know who Wade is. Maureen says they've seen something on the TV," Andrea stammered as she hung up.

The Stoppable house, 1307 Buena Vista Parkway, Middleton IL.

"Tom, that felt so awful," Maureen confessed to her husband as he took his glasses off to clean them, only half-listening. "The Possibles are our friends; we shouldn't have to lie to them like that." Every other mission Ronald went away on with his friend Kim, they would always be told he was coming home in one piece.

"She's such a good girl, Maureen. Always looking out for Ronald like she does…" Taking his wife's phone, Tom Stoppable sighed heavily as the stored voice message played back one more time, the girl on the other end close to tears even before she began…

"Mom, Dad, it's me. Sorry I haven't called in so long, but Ron's in big trouble with Kimmie. Something's taken them both from the hotel, and we don't know where it's gone with them. Don't tell anyone I'm calling you again, okay? Love you…"

Alkali Lake complex, Nevada.

The inhuman green glow of her left eye was unnerving to watch, but Ron always kept his head high and a smile on his face, even as Kim's own expression tried its best not to overtly become a worried frown in front of him. So, he explained to her precisely what he had allowed the Bebes to do, cooperating with them in exchange for Kim's own relative safety.

"I knew they wanted me, and I couldn't let anything happen to you, KP," he started to whisper to her as the soft light from her new eye bathed his features in emerald radiance. Softly singing a few notes experimentally to make sure her voice hadn't been altered by the Bebes, Kim replied with a weak half-smile.

"Ron, it's alright. The Bebes belong to you. We…" Her face frozen, Kim reached for Ron's jersey and unfolded it, passing it to him rather than continue speaking in case she made another mistake like that.

"Yes, Kim? You and me, that would be "we", wouldn't it?" Ron gestured simply, prompting Kim to spin it out after he saved the conversation from heading down a wrong alley, tugging his red hockey jersey over the thin black long-sleeve T-shirt.

"Sure, Ron, I was going to say that we can teach these girls the right way to do things. Y'know? You and me together…" She couldn't tell him how glad she was to just be sharing his company on this balmy Nevada night in the middle of the desert, and now they had their clothes brought back to them from the Luxor, she really felt like a human being again.


The best plot twists, I always find, are the ones where you, the audience, get to feel like you're in on it from the very beginning, with those characters that are part of the twist. But I'm not going to blow the twist straight away, I'm going to let this one sit in the background as part of the overall arc I intend to establish.
Author's notes: References to "Stockholm" are indeed referring to the psychological condition that sometimes causes kidnap victims to side with their abductors. Also, we're six chapters in and Ron's only just been upside-down and naked once. I'm pacing myself.