"Y'know something Boss? You're alright. For a boy, I mean."
Now it was his turn to smirk.
"------------------------------------------------------"
The Girl Who Could Do Anything sat on her ass in a cushioned seat while her best friend since pre-K was going on a mission along with her green-skinned, plasma-wielding lesbian lover. This was just friggin' ducky. Even Monique had a job to do – Kim watched her making log entries and listened as she juggled three conversations at once. Everyone was in their element - Team Possible was at work. All except for Kim Possible herself. She sighed deeply and looked out the window at the Moana Loa volcano as the Gulfstream headed back toward Hilo, on the other side of the island.
Well, at least she had Shego back, there was a single bright side to the day. She'd thought for sure she'd lost her... and why? Because she couldn't stand the thought of losing her. Her decision to force Shego to save herself against her will should be in the dictionary under 'irony'. See 'stupid'. And 'selfish'. Well, that did it: no matter what happened, no matter what circumstances – no matter what the sitch – she would never, ever command Shego again. Even if Shego asked her to for the sake of kinky fun. Never again. That boat has sailed. Elvis has left the building.
Kim suddenly felt a hundred percent better about things. She could do this... she could do anything, right? She waited for a break in Monique's conversations.
"Monique – what's the sitch?" Monique – not 'Wade'... That felt kind of weird, actually.
"On line with the Hawaii Volcano Observatory, Kim. They have pretty much the whole island wired for underground sound, and we're trying to see if they can locate the digger, maybe track it. Know anything about seismic P-wave scattering?"
"Nada."
"Me neither – but they all say it's simple, if I can just get them to do it and stop trying to explain it to me! Scientists! Lord Almighty!" Monique rolled her eyes at the ceiling.
Kim could understand the other girl's exasperation – what with having a rocket-scientist for a father and a brain-surgeon for a Mom... they always wanted to tell you how everything worked. Once, when she'd been eight years old, she'd said to her father, "I don't care about 'pie', Dad! Just fix my bike's chain, okay?" and the hurt look on his face had nearly made her cry. So she learned how to tune it out, her way of reconciling to the situation.
"I feel your pain, Mon" Kim joked.
"Hold on GF," Monique said, turning back to her logbook. She flipped a switch and began talking again, "A 'void'? What's a 'void'... Wade, you know what they're talking about?" another switch, "Can you convert that to lat/long for me? I don't know what WGS-84 means" and another switch, "Yes, and scuba gear too – sounds like she might need it. Uh... maybe three hours? Roger." She glanced at Kim to let her know she was talking to her again, "They're saying the digger looks to be headed for a 'void' in the rock. Might be a secret base or something. You may be swimming to it. They're still trying to figure out what the bad-guys are up to, as well. The geeks are all being very quiet about it."
"Like they're hiding something?"
"Heh, I doubt it. One thing I've learned about science-types - if they know something, they'll stomp all over each other to tell ya. No, I think they just don't know. They get real quiet when they don't know something. Whoops – hold on again" and Monique went back to work.
Kim let her. Scuba? Swimming? Yeah, I can do that. Maybe I'll be in this thing after all she thought hopefully.
Burns voice boomed from the speakers, "Belts, tray tables – you know the drill. Landing in five minutes. Monique, Kim – get your stuff together, we'll be transferring to helo once we get to, ah... Hilo." Capt. Krache's laughter could be heard before Burns let go of the microphone.
"------------------------------------------------------"
"So, Bon. This what you had in mind?" Cin asked the girl who's wrists were zip-tied to her own, a leg of the workbench between them. Bonnie just gave her an evil glare – so not the time to be joking. Agent Due was similarly zip-tied to a table leg, about two feet away. His head hung down in dejection.
Cin, on the other hand, was in oddly high spirits; she knew that their captor was the most gentlemanly of villains - Senor Senior, Sr. She was actually being kidnapped by Senor Senior, Sr! She'd read about him, of course, in the police bulletins, tabloids, Newsweek... but never expected to actually meet the world's richest super-villain. It was all she could do to keep from gushing at him and asking for his autograph. In tattoo. On her breasts. The only male Cin had crushed on ever, and she was being kidnapped by him! Squeeee!
She didn't really "Squeeee!" of course, she was too mature for such fan-girlish behavior. But she felt like going "Squeeee!", all the same.
"Would you stop grinning like an idiot, Cin? Do you have any idea how much trouble we're in? These people have guns! They've captured an agent of Global Justice! Do you know what that means?"
"Yeah" Cin replied excitedly, "It means we'll probably end up being thrown into a moat full of piranhas, or tied to a table with a big honkin' laser slowly – ever so slowly – getting closer and closer, or maybe -"
"Trapped in a room with a slanting floor that is slowly filling with liquid nitrogen?" Senor Senior cut in.
"Or, how about helium?" Cin suggested, beaming at him.
"Hmmm. Yes, I like the way you think, Miss Cin. But how would you escape?"
While Cin thought about it, Bonnie said under her breath, "I do not BELIEVE this..."
"Chains, hanging from the ceiling. We could jump up – they're almost out of reach, of course -"
"Of course" Senor Senior said approvingly.
" - and then swing like Tarzan to the nearest window!"
"But what about me? Will I get off scot-free?"
"Oh. Well... how about this: I could swing over to the door of the room – that'd be on the down-hill side, right?"
"I'd imagine it would, yes..."
"And open it, flooding your lair and foiling your dastardly plan with the very thing you were trying to use to kill me!"
Senor Senior clapped his hands, "Bravo, young Cin! It is nice to meet someone who actually understands the spirit of these things. I commend your aptitude! I only wish there were more like you... like us. For instance, I'm afraid Agent Du here would never appreciate an elaborate near-death situation followed by a breath-taking and clever escape at the last minute. Would you, Mr. Du..."
"How did you get the GJ comm codes? How did you intercept my calls to Dr. Director's office? How -" Agent Du began a long list.
"You see? All business, no imagination. Tut tut, Agent Du. That would be telling" Senor Senior said archly, "Miss Cin, I must apologize for the crude method of restraint we've used... Zip-ties. Ugh. It really is most embarrassing..."
"Oh, no, Senor Senior, Senior, sir. They're great! Easy to use, impossible to escape, and you can carry a dozen of 'em in a pocket! They're the most practical way -"
Bonnie interrupted, "Have you totally lost your MIND, Cin?"
Senor Senior chuckled, "Well, yes, that's just it, you see. They are practical. Practical, utilitarian, and cheap. Again, I apologize... I wanted to bring thumb-cuffs, but I'm afraid I let Senor Senior, Junior choose. I do worry about that boy. He seems to have no appreciation of class whatsoever..."
"Oh, I know! I mean – uh, I meant... uhm..." Cin stammered, chagrined at the unintended insult.
Senor Senior laughed out loud at her embarrassment, "Mr. White, remove Miss Cin's restraints. But do keep an eye on her, won't you? She shall be our guest."
Cin felt so honored her cheeks burned, "Oh... Oh, it's just Cin. Not 'Miss Cin'..."
"Very well, 'Cin'. Mr. White?" he nodded to one of the rifle-toting henchmen, "Today?"
Cin – almost ready to explode – finally couldn't help herself: "Mr. Senor Senior Senior, sir? Can... can I have your autograph?"
"------------------------------------------------------"
"Alright Kim – I've transferred way points and navigation tips into your Communicator, so you should-"
Kim interrupted her, "Kimmunicator."
"- be able... pardon me?"
"We call them... uh..." Suddenly the thought of insisting that Monique refer to it as a "Kim" -municator seemed a little silly. And a lot conceited. "Never mind. So how long will my air last?"
"On your back – about half an hour, I'm told. In the scooter, about four hours more. I'm supposed to remind you to use the scooter's air first – what's on your back is just for emergencies. Oh, and you'll be unable to communicate the whole time, by the way. Wade says he might find a way to get information to you once you're in the lair – but text only, no voice, and strictly one-way. So check your Comm once in a while for messages. Okay, flashlights?"
"Check, both of 'em work."
"Cutting-torch?"
"Check."
"Utility pack?"
"Right here in it's waterproof box."
"Communicator?"
"Check."
"Two thousand pounds of air in your tank and the scooter?"
"Check."
Monique stood back and looked at Kim decked out in her equipment. The pressure on her shoulders from the backpack was obviously causing the girl pain, and she wasn't doing a very good job of hiding the fact, either. "Are you sure you can do this, Kim? I can tell you're already hurting..."
"It'll be okay once I'm in the water, Mon. Thanks, though. Okay, I'm ready." Kim laid on her stomach on the scooter, holding on tight at the foot-posts as well as the hand-grips. She sighed – another mode of transportation obviously designed by a man. She had to lift her chest slightly off the support to keep from painfully squashing her breasts. Monique tapped Burns on the shoulder, and he got up to run the crane that would lower Kim the thirty feet into the Pacific Ocean, half a mile from the Kona coast where the lava-tube opened to the sea under seventy feet of water.
Monique watched her go with more than a little nervousness. That was Kim Possible down there – alone. Not "Team Possible". It just didn't feel right. At least Ron had Shego with him. Note to self she thought, splitting up the Team is a Bad Idea. Well, there was nothing she could do for Kim now, not even talk to her. She sat back down next to her portable Comm console and went back to work if only to try and stop thinking about Kim down there, underwater and soon underground as well, alone and out-of-touch in the darkness. She shivered.
"Wade? What's the sitch?" she asked.
"------------------------------------------------------"
It was getting hot down there! Ron had already stripped off his sweater and shirt, and rolled up his pant-legs as well, in an effort to cool off. Shego, in her heavy cotton jumpsuit, couldn't really do much except unzip it a little. She had nothing on underneath. But the heat wasn't their only problem.
"Hey Shego?" He had a feeling she already knew what he was going to say.
"Boss?"
"You, uh, notice how the pile is getting closer and closer to us as we go on?" The end of the conveyor belt used to be in front of the filled-up portion of the tunnel behind them. Now a good two feet of it was buried underneath.
"Uh-huh. Well, if worse comes to worst, we can always try our luck busting in through the door there."
"Yeah. I figure we've got about four hours before it gets here."
"You worked it out? I'm impressed. Me, I never think that far ahead" Shego admitted, wiping the sweat from her eyes. The heat was just getting intolerable, and there was only one thing she could do about it. "Okay Ron, let's just get this over with – I can't stand another minute in these coveralls, so I'm going to at least take the top down."
"I won't look..." he said awkwardly. He could see she was burning up in that suit.
"You've already seen me in less. And we don't have time for polite embarrassment here" she said, unzipping the suit down to her waist and pulling herself out of the sleeves, "So go ahead. You get one minute to stare. After that, I'll have to slap you." She made a point of not looking his direction.
So... he stared. It was really kind of amazing that dark-green nipples could look so... natural, on somebody. It was also kind of amazing how long a single minute could last, under certain circumstances.
"Okay, that's enough, Ron. Hope you got your fill." She looked back at him, her signal for him to start looking somewhere else.
Ron resumed staring at the back of the tunnel.
Ron was faintly smiling, of course, and that made Shego a little mad. Damn teenage boy... what's his problem, anyway? Half the population of the world has breasts... more than half, actually. Why does he keep smiling like that? Does he think he has something 'on me' now? "Alright, Boss. You can wipe that smile off your face. Or do I need to do it for you?"
He dared to look back at her, "Sorry. It's just that... that birthmark, or scar, or whatever under you right... uh... looks just like a Nike swoosh. I didn't realize you were such a fan of athletic shoes." He chuckled and looked away again. "Other than that, you're a beautiful woman, Shego. Thanks for the... for letting me... Uhm, thanks."
She knew the birthmark he was talking about – she'd always thought it looked like a check-mark. Like she'd been stamped 'A-OK' when she'd left the factory. But a corporate logo? That was a new one, and yeah, it did kinda look like that. As for the compliment, well, doy, she already knew that, but it surprised her to hear him say it, all the same. In fact, all things considered, it surprised her rather a lot. How did he keep doing that?
"Boss... you keep hitting me out of left-field like that, and I may have to revise my opinion of you..." Her smirk had returned.
"Same here" as did his.
"------------------------------------------------------"
"Geez-us. Is she always like this?" Will asked Bonnie, still zip-tied to the workbench with him. Listening to Cin gush about Senor Senior's accomplishments was getting on his nerves.
"I wouldn't know. This is our first time getting kidnapped by a super-villain. How many is it for you?" she replied cynically. Truth was, it was a little embarrassing, the way Cin was acting – like Senor Senior, Senior was a rock-star or something. And Cin was his groupie.
But the cynicism rolled right off the GJ agent, "Oh, maybe three or four... depending on what you mean by 'kidnapped'. Usually they're not aware that I'm around. This is a first." He tried to change his position a little, and scratched his nose against the steel brace in front of him. Nothing makes you aware of itching like knowing you have no way to scratch it. "That was a pretty good kick you gave me back there. You've had training?" He was trying to make small-talk. Talking was better than having to listen to Cin and Senor Senior rattle on.
"Oh... well, a little. Yeah, sorry about that. I didn't know you were a good-guy..."
He sighed, "Yeah, and I didn't know I was a 'bad-guy', either. So I guess we're even."
"So he tricked you into stealing this thing?" she asked, putting the pieces together.
"Hook, line, and sinker. I can't imagine how he did it... he would have had to know things he shouldn't have been able to know. We're going to have to do a lot of bug-sweeping when I get back. Residences as well as offices. Even if he had a mole inside the GJ, the mole couldn't have known... he's good, I'll give 'im that." Agent Du didn't mention that he'd also been manipulated by his desire for recognition and fame, although it was clear to him now.
"You think you will get out of this, then?" He seemed awfully confident. Bonnie was still thinking about the pool full of piranhas.
"Oh, yeah. Senor Senior never actually kills anyone – doesn't even try. To him, this is all a big game, something to occupy his retirement years. Whatever his scheme is, it's unlikely that anyone will even get hurt, at least not directly."
Cin was still carrying on: "... and that time you stole a whole pyramid! That was so awesome – the way you set up the diversion by saying you were going to open a strip-club in Cairo, then while all the people were protesting and the press was watching them, you took a national treasure right out from under their noses!"
Senor Senior chuckled, "Yes, I am rather proud of that one. A strip club. It was quite naughty of me, wasn't it?"
Will Du sighed again, "You have a very unusual girlfriend there, Bonnie."
Bonnie's eyebrows rose at the word 'girlfriend'. What did he mean by that? How much did he know? HOW would he know? Or was he just assuming, because Cin looked so boyish and she... what a jerk!
"How do you know she's my girlfriend!" she asked a bit too loudly, incensed at what she assumed was his presumption.
By chance, Cin and Senor Senior had paused in their banter when she'd said that. An eerie silence followed, and once again – just as they had at Red Lobster – everyone looked at her.
"Oh, gaaawd... I did it again..." she said hanging her head.
"Ten feet to the lair, Senor Senior" said the henchman in what passed for "the driver's seat".
Senor Senior, Senior stood up from his chair, "Ah, excellent. Well, I daresay we've all had a long day. I'll have you shown to your rooms once we get there. You can clean up, change your clothes... we'll meet for dinner at seven."
"Dinner?" Cin and Bonnie said simultaneously. They hadn't eaten in twenty-four hours, excepting a handful of chocolate-dipped strawberries each.
"Yes" he said, and then seemed to think of something, "And those who are late will receive no fruit cup!"
Cin clapped her hands together, "Young Frankenstein! Am I right?"
"Indeed you are, my dear. I believe I will sit you next to me at the head of the table, Miss – I mean, 'Cin'. I'm becoming quite fond of you."
Cin actually bounced on her toes, but at least she didn't 'squeeee'.
"------------------------------------------------------"