A/N: Standard Disclaimers Apply

A/N: Slythergrl2004, thanks for the warning.

Kim, Act One, Scene Three

Dr. Drakken walked quietly through the doors to a non-descript building in the heart of a small Arizona town. No one paid him notice as he shuffled his way to a bar and pull up a barstool.

"Evening Doctor D," the barkeeper said. "Your usual?"

"Not tonight, Charlie," Drakken said sullenly. "I… I think I'd like something a little stronger."

"You're the doctor, Doctor."

Charlie glanced at Drakken as he poured out a drink. Drakken took it and gulped it down as fast as he could. The blue faced villain felt as if his face imploded. He scrunched his features and shook terribly. His throat was on fire, and he gasped for air. His mind went fuzzy. But soon everything came back into focus.

"I'll take another one, Charlie," Drakken said shakily.

"Just a sec, Doc. The band's warming up."

Drakken frowned and looked over to the large, brute of a man. His arms were covered in large tattoos and he flung his hair triumphantly back.

"HELLO HIDEOUT, ARIZOOOOOOONA!" he bellowed. "JOHNNY RANCID, IN THE HOUSE!"

Drakken turned back to the bar as Rancid began his set.

"Darn that Shego!" the doctor bellowed as he slammed down a second drink.

"Women trouble, eh?" the patron next to him asked. Drakken looked at the man, dressed in a black bodysuit with a large light bulb on his chest.

"What is it to you?" Drakken spat.

"Nothing."

"Good."

"You can always tell."

"Tell what?"

"Woman trouble."

Drakken glanced at the strangely clad man next to him. "Well," he said with an uncharacteristic sarcasm, "the conversation has been very illuminating. At least I now know where I can find a bright idea."

The man stroked his goatee after putting down his drink. His eyes went cold.

"Now look Docs," Charlie said, "you both know the Law around here."

Drakken arched an eyebrow, "Dockssss as in plural, Charlie?"

"Yeah, Doctor Drakken, meet Doctor Light."

Kim Possible stepped gingerly out of bed and pulled up the pants leg of her pajamas. Her shin looked like someone took a baseball bat to it. She limped across her room when her mother knocked on the door.

"Kim?"

"Hi, Mom."

"Let me see that leg of yours."

Kim's mother may have been a brain surgeon, but she still knew what a deep bruise and a possible hairline fracture looked like. She didn't ask her adventuresome daughter how the injury occurred; it was broadcast on the local news and internet. Kim sat as far back on the bed as she could, propping her hurt leg on the mattress. The young red head frowned deeply as her mother lifted her pants leg and gave her the "Why did you do this to yourself?" eyebrow lift that only doctors seem to be able to do.

Dr. Possible gently applied pressure to the bruised shin.

Kim gasped and clamped her eyes shut.

"Okay, it hurts now," the young red head groaned.

"You should get this X-rayed, Kimmie," Dr. Possible said in a way that made the word "should" mandatory.

"Mom," Kim started. She was going to claim one of the thirty things she had planned today, mostly involving cheerleading practice, but the cool, analytical look her mother gave her really gave her no alternative. Kim relented, "Okay, Mom."

"Today, Kimberly."

"All right."

Kim sighed as she climbed into the passenger seat of her mother's car. Her twin brothers, both named for their father, teased her about incessantly before being dropped off at their elementary school.

"Bye Mom!" Jim called.

"Later, Gimp!" Tim teased.

"Boys!" Dr. Possible chided.

Jim and Tim laughed and spoke in their Twin-speak as they ran from the car.

"Tweebs," Kim sighed.

Kim didn't pay attention to the rest of the car ride. She leaned against the window and didn't watch anything as it sped past her, and idly recognized her mother's hospital as they pulled into it. Dr. Possible notified the radiology lab to be ready on the drive, and an orderly was waiting for them as they pulled under the awning. He was a large man with a shaven head with broad, overly developed muscles. His large hands engulfed the handles of the wheelchair before him. As large as he was, his pink scrubs nearly made Kim laugh.

"Good morning, Dr. Possible," he said.

"Good morning, Hugo. This is Kim."

"Ah, your mother has told us all about you, Miss Possible," he said as he helped Kim out of the car and into the wheelchair with surprising tenderness. "And about all the good work you do."

"Thanks," Kim said merrily, "but it's no big."

Hugo smiled as he pushed Kim into the X-ray room. The technicians were already there and propped Kim on the cold table. The covered her chest with a heavy lead-lined blanket and took three shots of her injury.

"Well?" Dr. Possible asked her colleague after the shots were developed.

"Well, Anne, your daughter's quite lucky. No broken bones."

"Where's the 'But?'" Kim asked herself, "There's always a 'But.'"

"But," the other doctor said, "there is a very deep bruise and some minor internal bleeding. She'll be fine, but she won't be doing any of her high flying antics for a while."

"Pardon me?" Kim asked

"You need to treat this bruise as you would a sprain, Miss Possible. But it will heal much more quickly, thank goodness. You need to refrain from any extremely strenuous activity for about a week."

"Oh. Wonderful."

"Hey KP!" Ron yelled as Kim got out of the car. He sat alone on the steps of Middleton High School waving. He jumped to his feet and rushed over to his best friend, nearly snatching her schoolbooks from her hands. "Lemme get those for ya."

"Thanks, Ron," Kim started, "But I…"

"Tut, tut, Kimberly Anne, I said I would get them, and I mean it," Ron said standing up and striking as chivalrous a pose as he could imagine. He tucked her books under his arm and walked slowly along side the red head. Ron smiled to himself, not taking his eyes off Kim, as he held the front door wide for her.

"Thanks, Ron."

"Ah, Possible. Stoppable."

"Hello Mister Barkin," Ron and Kim said together. Barkin was the professional substitute, detention monitor, coach, and rules enforcer for the high school.

"Late, again Stoppable?"

"Well, you see.. umm.. I was… uh…" Ron stumbled.

"And I see you have a doctor's note, Possible. All right then. I need you two to come with me."

Ron sighed and slumped his shoulders. He shuffled behind Kim and Barkin into one of the classrooms.

"Listen up people!" Barkin cried as he took his place at the head of the class. Kim and Ron slipped into the first available seats and looked around.

"All right," Barkin continued. "Here's the deal, people. The principle is tired of freshmen and new students not knowing anything about our great school. So, the 'Welcome to Middleton High' committee was finally made official. You. Are. They. You are to 'adopt' an incoming student, or a group of them, and teach them the ins and outs of Middleton. Understand?

"Good. Now let's get a roll call."

Ron and Kim looked around.

"Flagg."

Brick Flagg, the varsity quarterback leaned back in his chair smugly smiling.

"Monique," Barkin drawled still disbelieving that she only had one name.

Kim craned her neck to catch her smiling friend waving at her.

"Possible."

"Rockwaller."

"Oh no," Kim said under her breath. "Bonnie?"

"And, for a reason that still alludes me, Stoppable."

"Okay people. Now get to work."