STANDARD DISCLAIMER:The characters of Kim Possible, Dr. James Timothy Possible, Dr. Anne Possible, Jim and Tim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Wade Load, Steve Barkin, Bonnie Rockwaller, Monique, Tara, Felix Renton, Rufus the Naked Mole Rat, Drew "Dr. Drakken" Lipsky, Shego, Dr. Dementor, Lord Montgomery "Monkey Fist" Fiske, Señor Senior Senior, Señor Senior Junior, Dr. Betty Director, Special Agent Will Du, Global Justice and any and all other minor characters/locations from the television series Kim Possible are the sole property of the Walt Disney Corporation, and are used herein without permission or contest to their ownership for the sole purpose of personal, non-profit entertainment. Any and all minor characters that have not appeared in the television series, and this storyline, are the sole creation and property of the author and may not be reproduced without prior consent (if you want to post it, just ask).
A/N: *waving hands at clouds of dust, coughing* So look what I found in the darkest recesses of a hard drive; a story I haven't updated in... HOW LONG has it been? Seven YEARS since an update was published to this story? I'm not sure if that's a record on this site by any stretch of the imagination, but it's certainly much longer than I ever anticipated leaving it. In that time frame a lot has changed: new career, new home (moved almost clear across the continent)... pretty much a whole new life at this point. One good thing is this new life does give me a bit of a chance to get back into the writing game (hoping I haven't lost my touch), so I figured what better place to start than to pick up where I left off? For those who have either been waiting for those seven years or have given up and presumed me dead, I do apologize for the long absence; hopefully another seven years won't go by before the next chapter makes its appearance.
As always, thanks to all readers new and old that have taken the time to stop by and follow/review either me or one of my stories. I appreciate each and every one. Without further ado, on with the story!
CHAPTER FIVE
"So that's the long and short of it, Miss Gogh; all the paperwork's in order and I have your signatures where I need them," a balding, middle-aged man in a slate-gray suit said as he shuffled a sheaf of papers together on his desk. "Barring any major catastrophes—which I honestly can't see happening at this point—the closing date on your new home should be as early as next Wednesday."
Kate couldn't smother the excited grin that crossed her face. "When the real estate agent said that place was set up for a quick sale, she wasn't kidding, was she?"
"Not a bit," the lawyer replied with a shake of his head. "I think this is the first property case I've ever done where the seller had everything already looked after; all I had to do was call their attorney and get the paperwork faxed over. All that was missing was your signature and mine in the appropriate blanks." Rising from his seat, he extended his hand to the former villainess. "I'll give you a call when the deal is closed and the keys are here for pickup."
Kate took the hint and rose as well, shaking the attorney's hand. "Thanks," she said with a beaming smile, "I'll look forward to it."
She was still smiling as she crossed the law office's small parking lot to her car when her cell phone started ringing in her jacket pocket. Digging it out, she glanced at the caller ID; a quizzical expression crossing her face as she saw the number on the screen. "Hello?"
"Hey Kate," Ron said on the other end of the line.
Immediately the malachite woman could hear the melancholy tone in the young man's voice, causing what was left of her smile to instantly disappear from her lips. "Ron? What's going on?" she asked with genuine concern as she leaned against the quarter panel of her car.
Ron heaved a sigh as he answered. "Listen, Kate, I have a huge favor I need to ask of you," he said, sounding unsure of whether to proceed or not.
"Of course," she replied, hoping to ease his mind, "you know I'm here if you guys ever need me."
"That's good to know," the towheaded young man said, sounding slightly relieved.
"So out with it, already; what's this big favor you need from me?" she joked, hoping to lighten the mood a little.
Another deep breath sounded in her ear before Ron spoke again. "I have to go out of town for awhile and I wanted to know if you would be able to stand in for me if Kim gets a mission while I'm gone," he said.
Kate was momentarily taken aback by the statement. "Well, that's awful sudden," she finally said. "Where are you off to so quick that you can't back Kim up?"
"I'm going to Israel on a solo pilgrimage," he replied in a near-monotone. "I want to learn more about my heritage and I don't want any distractions while I'm gone, so I'm not taking the Kimmunicator with me."
As she listened to Ron speak, her expression darkened to the point that anyone that knew her from her time in Drakken's employ would swear on a stack of any sacred document placed before them that she had once again turned to the dark side. Breathing deeply through her nose—as much to control her temper as to ensure her plasma didn't flare up and melt the flimsy plastic of her phone to the side of her head—she spoke in a dangerously low voice. "Alright, Ron; I think I had something stupid in my ear, so I'm going to ask you again… why are you going off the grid?"
"You heard me the first time, Kate," he said in the same monotonic voice. "I'm going to Israel and I'm not taking the Kimmunicator with me."
Kate's hand tightened around her phone as she struggled to not track her best friend's boyfriend down and remind him of just how much hurt she was capable of dishing out in an extremely short period of time. "Have you at least sprung this lovely revelation on Kim yet?" she seethed.
"Yeah, I just came from there," he said. "She took it about as I expected… not well."
At least he had balls enough to tell her face-to-face, she thought; her temper simmering somewhat. "So at what point do you need me to cover? Are you taking off right now, or is this advance warning?"
"I'm not leaving till noon tomorrow, but if you could go on call now, it would be greatly appreciated."
"Done," she said, her tone expressing her displeasure in the young man, "but don't think you're off the hook for this one, Sidekick; you're gonna have some major answering to do when you get back… to both me and Kim."
"Don't think I'm not already aware of that, Kate… and thanks," he said, disconnecting before she could say anything else.
With a sigh of frustration, Kate returned her phone to her jacket pocket and slid into the driver's seat of her car. While she regularly taunted Ron during her tenure with Dr. Drakken by addressing him as "Buffoon," she never really believed he was as stupid or as inept as he let on. Given the latest turn of events, however, she was tempted to re-evaluate her opinion of the young man. "I sure hope that whatever you're up to is worth the heartache and bullshit you're pulling on your girlfriend, Ron," she muttered as she started her car, "'cause God help you if it's not."
Across town at La Belle Vie—Middleton's premier beauty salon and spa—Kim and Anne Possible were just sitting down on a cedar bench in the facility's sauna following their head-to-toe treatments. As was the elder redhead's intention, her daughter's mood had lightened considerably following the pampering they'd been subjected to by the spa staff; a contented smile on her face as she sat on the towel she'd draped over the bench. "Thanks, Mom; I really needed this," she said softly, resting the back of her head against the wall behind her and closing her eyes.
"Mom?" a middle-aged Japanese woman seated on a similar bench along the opposite wall interrupted, startling both of the Possible women. "I thought you two were sisters when you came in."
"I'm sorry; I didn't see you when we came in," Anne said as she quickly grabbed her towel and started to wrap it around herself again, despite the fact the other woman was equally uncovered and sitting on her own towel.
"Oh, never mind that," she said with a wave of her hand, "we're all women here; you don't have anything I haven't seen before."
"If you're sure…" Anne stammered, slowly replacing the towel on the bench and sitting back down; immediately crossing her legs and folding her arms over her breasts, obviously more than a little self-conscious.
Kim couldn't help but laugh at her mother's apparent discomfort. Having been cheerleading throughout high school, she was used to showering and changing with the rest of the team and had no qualms about showing her body to other members of the same sex. Her mother, on the other hand, had never been a cheerleader and could be quite shy about her body if she was in unfamiliar company. "She's right, Mom," she said, hoping to ease her mother's mind, "it's no big."
"Listen to your daughter," the woman said, chuckling softly to herself. "I still can't believe you two are mother and daughter—oh! Where are my manners? My name's Himiko Takahashi," she added with a warm smile and a slight bow to the two redheads.
"I'm Kim, and this is my mother, Anne," Kim replied, returning the smile, "nice to meet you, Ms. Takahashi."
"Oh, call me Himiko, please; no need for formalities here," she said with a dismissive wave. Even though she was obviously of Japanese heritage, her voice—while still sounding exotic—carried no discernible accent, suggesting she had spent most of her life in the US.
"Do you come here often, Himiko?" the neurosurgeon asked.
"Once a month I come by for a mani-pedi and a steam," Himiko replied as she gathered up her towel and ventured across the sauna to sit on the same bench as the Possibles, sitting down roughly arm's-length from the elder redhead. "How about you two; is this a regular mother-daughter outing or a special occasion?"
"Special occasion," Anne said, glancing briefly at her daughter before returning her gaze to their unexpected company. "Kimmie was feeling a little down, so I figured an afternoon at the spa might cheer her up a bit."
Now that she was closer and could see better through the steam that dominated the air, Himiko took a closer look at the teen. "You wouldn't happen to be Kim Possible by any chance, would you?"
"Guilty," Kim affirmed with a nod and a grin.
"I thought you looked familiar," she said as she leaned back against the wall and rested her hands in her lap but said no more on the subject. After a moment of silence, however, she spoke again. "If you don't mind me asking, what's got you feeling down, Kim? It's a little early to be worried about college, isn't it?"
"It's not college that's bothering me," Kim replied, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs before she continued. "I had a pretty big fight with my boyfriend this morning; he's taking off on a last-minute trip and I won't have any way to contact him while he's gone."
"Ah, the perils of teenage love," Himiko murmured knowingly. "It can be especially hard the first time you have to spend any amount of time away from someone you care deeply about… I always hate it when my husband travels for business."
"I wouldn't have minded if it wasn't for the fact I'll have no way to keep in touch with him or talk to him while he's gone," Kim said, a little surprised at herself for being so forthcoming with someone she'd just met, but she chalked it up to the intimate surroundings.
"How long have you two been together?"
"We've been dating for just over a year, but we've been friends ever since we were in pre-K."
A wistful smile crossed Himiko's face. "Childhood friends that grow up and fall in love… you just don't hear those stories anymore," she said fondly. "Is he the young man that's with you when I see you on the news?"
"That's my guy," Kim replied with a slightly melancholy sigh. "I just wish I understood why he all of a sudden decided to take off on me like this, though."
Himiko turned slightly on the bench so she could face Anne and Kim as she spoke. "I honestly don't mean to pry, and I won't get upset if you tell me to mind my own business, but did he tell you where he was going or why?"
Kim nodded. "Ron's family is Reform Jewish, and he said he wanted to learn more about his heritage, so he's taking a three-week pilgrimage to Israel and cutting himself off from all communication while he's over there."
"That actually sounds fairly reasonable," Himiko said with an accepting nod. "I have several friends of the Jewish faith that felt compelled to take similar trips. It's not as urgent for them as a trip to Mecca would be for a Muslim, but it's far from unheard of."
"Oh, I have no problem understanding the trip itself; what I don't understand is why he has to cut himself off from everybody and everything over here while he's gone," the teen retorted bitterly.
"Did he give you any reason why he would?"
"He said he didn't want any distractions," Kim replied with an unladylike snort.
Himiko nodded slowly as she considered Kim's response. "I can understand why you're upset, Kim, but at the same time I can understand why he would want to minimize any distractions he might have while he's over there. If you think about it, there's really no point in him being over there if he's constantly talking to you and not getting any closer to his goal, is there?"
"Himiko does have a point," Anne said when Kim didn't respond right away. "If he took the Kimmunicator and talked to you all the time while he was over there, wouldn't that defeat the purpose of him going in the first place?"
"I hate it when other people dissect my problems and make so much sense," Kim pouted good-naturedly, smiling at both her mother and their unexpected—yet welcome—company. "It really makes it hard for me to stay mad when that happens."
All three women shared a laugh at Kim's statement. Once the laughter had subsided, the Japanese woman rose and gathered her towel, draping it over her arm as she turned to face the two redheads. "It's been a pleasure meeting both of you, but I think I've been in here long enough," she said, extending her right hand to shake each of theirs.
"The pleasure was all ours, Himiko," Anne said as they shook hands. "I do hope our paths cross again someday."
"Middleton's not a big city like Denver or Chicago; I wouldn't be surprised if we do meet again," Himiko replied as she shook Kim's hand. Turning to leave, she stopped at the doorway and turned back long enough to wave at the Possible women before exiting the steam room, leaving mother and daughter alone.
She couldn't be sure, but the teen heroine almost thought she caught a hint of a knowing gleam in the woman's eye—almost as if she knew something and wasn't letting on—but she didn't maintain eye contact long enough to be sure. Dismissing the thought as just her detective's brain working overtime again, she shook her head and pushed the thought from her mind.
Once the door closed and the two redheads were alone, Kim couldn't resist teasing her mother a little. "You were awful quick grabbing that towel when Himiko first spoke up, weren't you?" she asked, playfully jabbing her elbow into the elder redhead's biceps.
"I got over it," Anne replied defensively. Not long after Himiko had first crossed to sit on the same bench as the Possible women, the neurosurgeon had relaxed; while she kept her legs crossed, she had let her arms drop to a more natural position.
"Yeah, but I told you it was no big," Kim countered. Like her mother, she sat with her legs crossed the entire time, but her hands were usually in her lap; much the same posture she used when she wore a skirt. "This is a women-only spa, so it's not like we're in a communal area where a man could walk in or anything."
"I know that, Kimmie; I guess in some ways I'm still a little old-fashioned," Anne said with a shrug. "It's one thing with family or some of the nurses I've worked with since I was a resident, but it's different around people I don't know."
"Maybe we should make this a monthly thing and get you over your bashful streak," Kim suggested as she stood and picked up her towel.
"I don't know, Kimmie," Anne hedged as she rose to follow Kim, "I mean, sure, Himiko was a wonderful woman and I did feel comfortable with her, but we were just lucky that nobody else came in; what if next time it doesn't go quite so smoothly?"
Kim just chuckled and shook her head as she held the door open for her mother. "I can guarantee if we do this again and there's somebody else here, one of two things is going to happen: one, whoever else is in there is going to be like Himiko, we're going to talk and have a good time and completely forget what we are or aren't wearing; two, they're going to ignore us and we'll ignore them and it won't matter."
Anne considered what Kim said as they retrieved their bags from a locker and got dressed. "Maybe you're right," she finally conceded as she pulled a baby-blue tank top over her head. "Maybe I am just being silly."
"You're not being silly, Mom," Kim replied as she fastened the button fly of her jeans. "You said it yourself, you're used to some slightly more conservative views on these things; if we do make this a monthly thing, I can guarantee after about the fourth trip you won't even think twice… kinda like the way you relaxed after we started talking to Himiko."
"How is it that someone so young can be so wise at times?" the neurosurgeon quipped as the two redheads brushed their hair.
"Years of world-saving experience and good genes," Kim suggested with a shrug, eliciting a laugh—and a swat on the shoulder with her towel—from her mother.
"Smartass," Anne groused as she tossed the spa-supplied towel in a hamper and picked her bag up. Verifying they were alone in the changing room, she turned back to Kim with a serious expression. "Are you feeling any better now, Kimmie?" she asked as the younger redhead zipped her bag shut.
"A little bit, yeah," she admitted with a grateful smile. "I think this was what I needed to get my mind back on track."
"That was the idea," Anne said as she put an arm around Kim's shoulders and squeezed. "I'm glad it worked."
"Me too," Kim said, putting her arm around her mother's waist and returning the one-armed hug. "Thanks, Mom."
"Anytime," she replied as they disengaged.
Kim glanced at the time display on her Kimmunicator as she pulled back from her mother and bit back a curse. "I really hate to sound pushy or anything, but can we get going? I'm supposed to meet Kate at GJ at two o'clock to help her get ready for her 'not-a-date' with Jake."
"If it's not a date, how come she needs your help getting ready?" the neurosurgeon asked as they put their bags in the back seat of the family minivan.
"Kate told Jake about landing the teaching job at Middleton High and he invited her over to have a celebration dinner at his place," Kim replied as they climbed into the Grand Caravan's front seats. "She's still a little rusty on the whole social scene, so she asked me to help her tread that fine line between 'date' and 'friends celebrating'. Besides," she added with an impish grin, "you're a girl; you know how fun it is to play dress-up with your friends."
"Any excuse is a good excuse," Anne agreed with a laugh. "Okay, let's get you home so you can get over to Global Justice in time."
While the two redheads were leaving their afternoon of pampering, Ron was busy in his room packing the few things he would need to take with him on his journey into a small suitcase. Normally he would have been excited about returning to Yamanouchi, but his earlier argument with Kim weighed on him… not that he blamed her one bit for her reaction. Even he had to admit the cock-and-bull excuse he fed her was weak, but it was the only one he could come up with on such short notice that held any credibility.
"No, Rufus," he sighed as he removed the naked mole rat from his suitcase for the fourth time, "you can't come this time. I know you want to see Sensei and Yori again, but I have to go alone. You'll be okay here for a couple of weeks; Mom already said she'd make sure to look after you while I'm gone."
Ron could tell his little buddy was disappointed that he wouldn't be able to accompany him to Japan—he was disappointed that he couldn't bring either Rufus or Kim—but Sensei's instructions were explicit; he was to make the journey alone. "I wanted to bring you and Kim both, buddy; you know that," he said, "but you know what Sensei said. Because this is the final step to me becoming the Monkey Master, I have to go by myself; I can't even have you there to help me."
Rufus whimpered at his human's last statement and nuzzled the thumb of the hand that held him. "I know, buddy; I'm gonna miss you, too," Ron said as he stroked his pet's head gently. "Don't worry, though; if everything goes good over the next two weeks and I get to call Kim to come over, I'll make sure she brings you with her, okay?"
Rufus appeared to perk up a little at the prospect of getting to see Ron again a week earlier than originally expected. Nodding at the young man, he bounded out of his hands and scampered out of the room; likely either on the hunt for a hunk of cheese or to go play with Ron's adopted sister, Hana… or both.
Ron watched his best non-human friend bolt out the door before returning to his packing. It only took him another moment to verify his shaving kit was fully stocked and placed in the case before he was ready for his trip to the airport in the morning. As he started to close the suitcase, however, a framed photograph on his dresser caught his eye and made him pause. Leaving the suitcase lying open on his bed, he slowly retrieved the photograph and stared at it with a faraway look in his eyes.
Like Kim, Ron had a copy of the junior prom photograph that miraculously captured their first kiss; it was a slightly smaller version of the one Kim had on her nightstand, simply framed and stood on the top shelf of his headboard. It was originally placed on his nightstand beside his alarm clock, but after knocking it over a couple of times while trying to hit the snooze button; he decided to move it before he broke the frame.
As special as that photo was, however, it wasn't the one that the towheaded young man currently held; instead, he was gazing at a picture that had been taken on the night of their senior prom. Taken by his father on their arrival at the school, the picture featured Kim and Ron standing in front of the limousine they'd just disembarked from; Ron's right arm around Kim's waist and Hana cradled in his left arm, her smile every bit as bright as either Kim's or Ron's.
"You may bring that with you, if you wish; it may prove inspirational to your journey."
Ron almost dropped the photograph at the sound of the unexpected voice. Spinning to face the direction of the sound, he was about to drop into a defensive stance when he saw who had spoken; a heavy sigh of relief passing his lips as he relaxed. "Pardon my Greek, Sensei, but you scared the crap outta me!"
"I apologize for startling you, Stoppable-sama," the spectral image of the young man's sensei stated with a hint of a laugh in his voice. "I just wanted to ensure you were not having any difficulty in preparing for your voyage to Yamanouchi."
A sad smile crossed Ron's lips as he remembered his conversation with Kim. "I had difficulty, alright," he said, "I just hope it doesn't mean the end of mine and Kim's relationship."
"She did not accept the explanation you gave her?"
"I wouldn't exactly say she accepted it, but she did seem to believe it," Ron replied as he lovingly placed the framed picture between his two training gi. "The best I can hope for now is a six-month stay in the doghouse when I get home."
"You will be permitted to explain the real reason for your sudden departure in two weeks' time; perhaps then Possible-chan will not be quite so incensed towards you?"
"Maybe not, but I'll probably still be in a pile of trouble for awhile," the towheaded young man sighed as he sat down on the foot of the bed and faced the specter. "I can't really say that the cover story I fed her was the greatest known to man," he added and proceeded to outline the cover story he'd given Kim and Kate.
"It may not have been the ideal explanation for your sudden departure, however it will serve its purpose," Sensei stated once Ron finished speaking. "While it was not a condition, you also ensured nobody would be looking for you by giving a later departure time and a false destination far from the true one; that will also help you to go undetected. Well done, Stoppable-sama."
"If it's so well done, why do I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet?" Ron spat disgustedly.
From his body language, it was obvious that Sensei wished he could lay a comforting hand on the young Monkey Master's shoulder. Instead, he spoke in the most sympathetic tone he could muster without sounding phony. "Stoppable-sama, I would be more concerned if you did not feel regret for having to be dishonest with Possible-chan. I know it is not something that you are fond of doing, and if it weren't absolutely necessary for the needs of your trial, I would not ask nor expect you to do so."
Ron nodded sullenly and heaved a deep sigh. "Yeah, I know," he said, staring at his feet, "but that sure doesn't make me feel any better about the situation."
"I do understand, Stoppable-sama," the old man's image said in the same sympathetic tone. "I'm sure this will be cold comfort, but you have passed the first test."
The young man's head snapped up to look at the ghostly image before him. "What do you mean I 'passed the first test'?"
"The first test of the Tai Xing Pe'Kwar master is his or her ability to leave his loved ones behind to embark on a quest, regardless of consequences. You have done so admirably."
"Yeah, real admirable," Ron snorted derisively; his patience for his Sensei's mysterious teachings quickly wearing thin. "First you tell me I have to take off to Japan for three weeks and I can't tell a soul why; now you're telling me the first test of my trial was to pull that off and damn the consequences? What the hell kind of trial is this?"
"One to determine whether or not the candidate for master of Tai Xing Pe'Kwar is worthy of the mantle," Sensei replied evenly. "Only one who is completely devoted to the ways of the Monkey may truly be called the Monkey Master."
"Is this one of the Simian Ten Commandments?" the teen snapped, finally losing his temper. "'Thou shalt have no false monkeys before me' or some shit? If this is gonna turn into one of those deals where I have to choose between my life here and being the Monkey Master… I know which choice I'm going to make."
"It will not," Sensei reassured the young man. "While being the master of Tai Xing Pe'Kwar does carry some inherent responsibility, it does not require alienating yourself from your family and friends. If it did, you would not be permitted to summon Possible-chan when the time comes."
Ron considered Sensei's last statement for a moment before heaving another resigned sigh. "Yeah, I know," he finally said. "Sorry I blew up, but this whole thing with Kim has really got me on edge right now."
Sensei nodded briefly at his student's apology. "I understand and accept your apology, Stoppable-sama," he said. "I will leave you now to finish your preparations for your journey; perhaps some time meditating will help you calm your agitation."
"Probably not a bad idea," Ron agreed with a nod and a wan smile. "See you soon, Sensei."
"We anticipate your arrival," the aged master stated as his image faded, leaving Ron alone with his thoughts.
He sat unmoving for several minutes after Sensei's apparition had faded from sight, his unfocused gaze still fixed on the spot where the ancient teacher had been. Finally he heaved a heavy sigh and ran his hands through his unruly blonde locks and down the back of his neck, his right hand coming to a sudden stop just above the upper edge of his deltoid muscle.
"Crap," he muttered, his fingertips gently rubbing the slight bump in his skin where his RFID tracking chip had been embedded. If I leave that in there, Kim might get Wade to track me and she'd know exactly where I'm going.
Knowing what he had to do didn't make the upcoming task any easier, but he also realized the sooner he did it, the sooner it would be over with. Steeling his resolve, Ron made his way to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him before taking his shirt off and laying it on top of the lowered toilet seat lid. From his pants pocket he retrieved his jackknife and opened the main blade, gently rubbing his thumb over the edge to ensure its sharpness.
Staring into the mirror, Ron reached with his left hand to the back of his neck and felt around until he found where his tracking chip was located again, placing his index and middle fingers on either side of it to stretch the skin taut. With the knife in his right hand, he gently placed the pointed tip of the blade alongside the less-than-pronounced bump in his skin. Taking two deep breaths, he held a third before forcing the tip of the blade through the skin and under the chip, prying it out of the hole pierced into his flesh and letting it drop to the tiled floor with a slightly metallic clatter.
To his credit, he didn't make a sound as he—for all intents and purposes—stabbed himself. Gritting his teeth to keep the cry of pain from escaping, he leaned heavily on the counter as he slowly released the breath he'd held through his nose. After a moment, the sharp pain started to ease to a dull throb, at which point Ron opened his eyes again and looked at the knife still in his hand. As he expected, the first half-inch of the blade was almost completely coated in his blood; the same blood he could feel starting to ooze down his back. Moving swiftly, he grabbed some toilet paper and wiped the tip of his blade clean and returned it to his pocket. Using the same piece of paper, he gathered the blood-coated chip—roughly double the size of a grain of rice—and wiped the few drops of blood from the otherwise-pristine white tile, wadding the paper into a tight ball in his hand once he'd finished. For a moment he considered tossing the ball into the toilet and flushing it and the chip within down the drain, but he thought better of it. Instead, he shoved the wad into his pocket; keeping it on his person for the time being would keep it moving and not raise Wade's suspicions… provided ripping it out of his body didn't already set off some sort of alarm.
Taking another strip of toilet paper, he turned his back to the mirror and looked over his shoulder to inspect the damage he'd inflicted. For the amount of pain he'd felt when he drove the knife through the skin, he was mildly surprised to see just how small the actual wound was and how little blood there was trickling down his back. Folding the strip of tissue in his hand, he reached awkwardly over his shoulder and wiped up as much of the blood as he could, holding the makeshift bandage over the wound with pressure until he could put an actual bandage on it.
Ten minutes later Ron was sitting on his bed with a patch of gauze taped over the self-inflicted wound on his neck. To ensure the wound stayed concealed, he'd traded out the T-shirt he'd been wearing for one of the black mock-turtlenecks he normally wore on missions. It didn't totally cover the entire bandage—part of one strip of tape was visible just above the edge of the collar—but it would serve its purpose until he left for Yamanouchi. In his hands he held the wad of toilet paper that contained the removed RFID tag. He idly fiddled with the tight ball, staring at it with a gaze that was maybe a field goal away from two thousand yards. I think I'm doing the right thing, he thought as he breathed a heavy sigh.
If I am doing the right thing… why do I feel so guilty about it?
This must be the place, Kate mused as she steered her Charger into the parking lot of a row of townhouse apartments. Almost immediately she spied the late-model Ford F-150 that Jake had been driving the night they rekindled their friendship, confirming her thought. One good thing about cops; they're great at giving directions, she thought as she parked in one of the visitors parking spaces near his unit.
As she shut the car off, the former villainess noticed for the first time that her hands were shaking. Taking a deep breath, she blew the air slowly through her lips as she tried to calm her nerves. "Get a grip, Kathryn," she chided herself. "This is Jake we're talking about; you've known him almost your whole life. It's not like you're going on a first date or anything."
So why am I so fucking nervous?
Glancing at her watch again, the mint-skinned woman's heart skipped a beat when she realized it was already seven o'clock. Taking another deep breath, she slipped out of her car and swung the door shut, dropping her keys into the simple clutch purse she carried after locking the doors. Praying to whatever deity saw fit to grant her wish that her usual grace in heels didn't desert her, she deliberately made her way up the walk to the unit Jake had specified in the directions he'd given her; the aforementioned heels clacking loudly on the cement.
After what seemed like an eternity, she finally stood on the mat in front of the door. Smoothing the skirt of her dress, she quickly checked her hair and makeup in a compact mirror before taking another deep breath and finally ringing the doorbell. She could dimly hear the classic, two-toned bell ring inside the apartment and almost swore that her heart was beating loud enough that he would hear it when he opened the door.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind when the door swung open to reveal a smiling Jake. "Katie! You're right on time," he said, stepping aside to admit her. "Come on in."
"Hey Jake," she replied as she crossed the threshold into the entryway of his home. As he swung the door shut behind her, she turned to face him again; this time taking in his appearance. Gone was the black Stetson and blue jeans; in their place he wore a pair of khakis and a crimson golf shirt. "So the hat's not part of your everyday attire, I see?" she quipped, hoping a bit of humor would help alleviate her nerves a bit.
"Hardly," he laughed, "that's only a prop for when I play a gig. I'm normally a jeans and T-shirt kinda guy, but I figured since we're celebrating tonight, I'd dress it up a bit. Speaking of which," he added, "you look fantastic."
"Thanks," she said with a hint of relief. With Kim's help earlier in the afternoon, she'd settled on a simple approach to her attire. Along with the dress she'd bought at Club Banana the day before, she wore a pair of strappy three-inch heel sandals and her hair tied up in a messy, yet stylish chignon that served to both show off her slender, graceful neck and the dangling gold earrings that hung from her lobes. "I wasn't sure how formal or informal this was supposed to be, so I went for somewhere in between."
"I'd say you got it just about perfect," he said as he led her to the open-concept kitchen/dining room; the round table set for two, complete with two candles burning in the center. "Have a seat," he continued as he pulled out a chair for her, "and I'll be right back with the salad."
Kate blushed lightly as she sat down. "Since when were you Mr. Chivalry, Jake?" she teased, quickly relaxing as familiarity set in. "You were never much of a ladies' man before."
Jake laughed as he rounded the waist-high half-wall that separated the kitchen and dining areas. "I'm still not," he replied, "but that doesn't mean I don't know how to treat a lady."
"Oh, so I'm a lady now, am I?"
"Not that I ever got right down to testing your DNA or inspecting your anatomy, but the last time I checked I'm pretty sure you qualify," he quipped as he returned and placed a garden salad before her. Placing a similar dish at his place, he then picked up the wine bottle that stood in the middle of the table and poured each of them a glass.
"In those terms, maybe," Kate conceded as she sipped her wine, "but in the technical term I'm not so sure."
"Don't be so hard on yourself," he countered as he sat down. Raising his glass, he met her gaze across the table. "To old friends," he said, extending the glass towards her in a toast.
"And new beginnings," she added, lightly tapping her glass against his.
"Now, unless something's changed, there's ranch dressing for the salad; I've also got a raspberry vinaigrette if you prefer."
"All this time and you still remember my favorite salad dressing," she chuckled as she drizzled the creamy condiment over her salad.
"I also remembered you hate tomatoes," he replied as he added the vinaigrette to his salad, "so I made sure to only put them in mine."
Kate couldn't help but laugh again as she speared some lettuce onto her fork. "You're something else, y'know that, Jake?"
"Nah, I just have a really good memory," he quipped, earning another laugh.
Conversation remained light between them as they ate; both of them making short work of the light appetizer. When they'd both finished, Jake quickly rose and gathered their dishes. "Hope you're ready for the main course," he said as he returned to the kitchen.
"If it tastes half as good as it smells, I am," she replied.
"I make no guarantees," he said with a hint of trepidation as he dished two servings onto plates. "This is my first time trying to make it, so I might not have got it quite right."
"I'll be lenient in my critique," she assured him with a chuckle, "but like I said, if it tastes half as good as it smells, I'd say you did alright."
"I hope you're right; my really good memory also told me this was one of your favorites whenever you came over to our place for dinner," he said as he returned and placed a plate in front of her.
"Oh, my God; is this your mom's three-cheese lasagna?" she gushed when she saw what was on her plate.
"It's supposed to be, anyway," he replied as he sat down. "I got the recipe from her yesterday just before I called you; I hope I did it justice. She says hi and sends her regards, by the way."
"Make sure you tell her I said hello next time you're talking to her," she said before taking her first bite of the lasagna. Almost immediately a sensuous moan emanated from her throat as she slowly savored the flavors of the dish; Jake visibly relaxing when he saw her reaction.
"I take it I got it right?"
Another shorter moan of delight was the first response as the former villainess swallowed the mouthful she had. "Oh my God, Jake; that tastes exactly like I remember it," she said emphatically. "Your certainly did it justice."
"Good," he nodded as he took his first bite. Chewing slowly, he considered the dish for a moment before he finally swallowed and nodded in satisfaction. "Not bad for a first attempt, I must admit," he conceded, "but I don't quite think I got it exactly the way Mom makes it."
"It's great, Jake," she assured him, taking another big bite for emphasis. Swallowing, she took a sip of her wine and looked across the table at him again. "So how is it that a guy that can cook, sing, play a wicked 'Free Bird' solo and not that bad looking to boot is still single after all these years?" she asked sincerely. "From what I've seen tonight, they should be busting down your door trying to snatch you up."
A wry chuckle escaped Jake's lips, followed by a deep sigh as he put his fork and knife down and met Kate's gaze. "Right off the bat, being a cop and the weird shifts that go along with it doesn't exactly leave much time for socializing; especially when I've got band practice thrown into the mix. Besides that… I've only been officially single for about two months."
Kate felt like she'd been kicked in the guts at that revelation. "Oh… sorry I brought it up," she mumbled, her mind in a frenzy as she tried to think up a different subject and hopefully salvage the evening. "I didn't realize you were so fresh out of a relationship."
"I'm not," he replied. "The divorce was only finalized two months ago; I've been alone for the last year."
Just when you thought you couldn't dig yourself any deeper… "I'm just not gonna talk anymore," she sighed.
"It's okay, Katie; the heartache was over long before we even separated," he said, hoping to lift her flagging spirits. "We were too young when we got married and familiarity was the only thing that made us hang on as long as we did until, finally, we decided it was in everybody's best interests to part ways."
She still felt a bit like a heel for opening the unexpected can of worms, but Jake's apparent ease with the subject did make her feel better. Taking a slightly longer sip of her wine, she smirked wryly as she swallowed. "I thought for sure I stuck my foot in it that time," she finally said. "Here you are doing all this for me, and I have to go and dredge up a bunch of unwanted memories for you."
"Really, Katie, it's okay," he laughed, "it's not like you knew. Anyway, like I said, with being a cop and all, I really don't get much chance to meet anybody, so it's been just me for the last year. I don't even dare get a dog; I'd never be able to look after it."
"I can definitely relate there," she sighed. "When I worked for Dr. D it was the same thing; no chance to really have a personal life. I mean sure, I got to take vacations to all the prime destinations around the world and taste the high life, but as far as actually getting to know somebody and have meaningful relationships, there was just no way for it to happen. Now that I'm getting my life back on track, hopefully I'll actually get to have those kinds of relationships again."
"Between the friendship you've drummed up with Kim Possible and us running into each other again, I would say you're well on your way towards that goal," Jake said as he took the last bite from his plate.
"I sure hope so," she replied, also cleaning her plate.
Jake watched the woman across the table as she chewed and swallowed the last morsel before rising and holding his hand out. "Seconds or dessert?" he asked as she passed him her empty plate.
"That depends on what's for dessert."
"Another one of your favorites: chocolate cheesecake."
A teasing gleam appeared in Kate's eyes. "Are you trying to get me in bed or something?" she asked. Even though their relationship had never gone to that level—aside from semi-frequent hugs and the odd occasion holding hands, they hardly ever had any truly intimate physical contact—it didn't mean innuendo-laden humor was ever forbidden between them. If anything, sexual humor was commonplace with them; almost to the point that anyone not fully aware of their relationship just might think they were a couple.
Jake laughed heartily as he put the dirty dishes in the sink. "My intentions have never been anything but honorable where you're concerned, Katie," he said. "Do you want a cup of coffee to go with dessert?"
"Absolutely," she replied enthusiastically. While her enhanced metabolism enabled her to consume more alcohol than an ordinary human without becoming intoxicated, they had still made short work of the bottle of wine with their dinner. Dessert and coffee would give her the time she needed for what little effect the alcohol did have on her to wear off before she returned to the Global Justice barracks.
"Cream and half a sugar, right?"
Kate looked at him in mild awe. "How in the hell do you remember this stuff?" she asked. "I mean, it's been ten years, Jake; surely there's something you don't remember about me."
"For the life of me I can't remember your bra size," he said as he brought two coffee cups to the table.
"I never told you my bra size."
"Then that would be why I don't remember."
Kate chuckled to herself and shook her head, but made no further comment as he returned again with two wedges of New York-style cheesecake drizzled with chocolate sauce. Another awestruck expression crossed her face as she took her first bite of the rich dessert. "Don't tell me you made this, too," she said in disbelief. "If you did, I might try and get you into bed."
"Sorry, I can't take the credit for this one," he laughed, "I picked it up at a bakery across town."
"Can't win 'em all, I guess," Kate mused flippantly, but with laughter gleaming in her eyes as she took another bite.
In short order dessert was finished. Jake cleared the dishes from the table and suggested they move to the living room to finish their coffee and continue their conversation, to which Kate had no objection. As she followed him into the living room, a couple of framed photographs standing on a bookshelf caught her eye and she stopped to look at them; one in particular grabbing her attention. "Oh my God… Jake, is this Hayley?"
"Hard to believe, isn't it?" he chuckled as he peered over her shoulder at the 5"x7" photograph. It was of a high-school graduation at Upperton High and featured Jake, his parents and a young woman wearing a black graduation gown and mortarboard, complete with gold honors collar. She was tall—in modest heels, she easily matched Jake's 6'2" height—with chestnut-brown, shoulder length hair and cobalt-blue eyes that sparkled behind stylish glasses. While the loosely-hanging robe hid most of her features, Kate could tell the young woman was athletically built; in short, she could have been a model if she wanted to be.
"You got that right it's hard to believe," the former villainess murmured in awe. "Last time I saw her, she was still in pigtails and playing with Barbie dolls."
"Try being the big brother to a girl like that," he deadpanned. "I try not to be overprotective of her, but I can't help myself; every time she brings a guy over to meet me, the first thing I do is show him my badge and my gun."
Kate burst out laughing at his proclamation. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me," she said between chuckles. "So has she picked a college yet?"
"Picked a college?" he scoffed. "More like the colleges are fighting over her; she definitely got the brains of the family. About a month before graduation she finally accepted a full ride to UC Berkeley for Computer Science."
"Computer Science? You mean that smoking hot babe of a sister of yours is a nerd?"
"Hard to believe someone that could be a runway model like her has an IQ of 159 and was captain of the girls' basketball and softball teams, isn't it?"
"I just can't believe that's the same little girl that used to ask me to help her tie her shoes before we went to the park," Kate sighed with a slightly downcast expression. "Reminds me what all I missed out on when I went to the dark side."
"Hey," Jake said, playfully elbowing her in the arm, "we're supposed to be celebrating tonight; no Eeyore moments allowed."
Kate giggled and elbowed Jake back. "How is it you always know how to make me laugh?" she asked.
"Page two of the best friend's handbook: 'always know how to lighten your best friend's mood; you never know when they'll be relying on you to pull them out of a funk'."
"Smartass," she groused good-naturedly as she turned her attention to the other photograph. Also a graduation shot, this one featured Jake in the center wearing his police academy uniform and proudly holding his diploma, flanked by his parents and a slightly younger Hayley. Other than the uniform, the only difference Kate could see between the past and present Jakes was the absence of his goatee. "At least you clean up half decent," she jibed.
"Hey; the girls love a guy in uniform."
"Depends on the uniform; somehow I don't think they'd be chasing after you if you stepped out in a Reichsführer's uniform," she countered.
"I'd be a hit with the white-supremacy movement… until I told them my favorite comedian's Eddie Murphy, anyway."
Kate just shook her head and laughed as she followed him to the couch, where they sat at opposite ends; each turned slightly towards the middle so they could face each other. "Always gotta have an answer to everything, don't you?"
"I have to be so serious when I'm working that when I get a chance to make a wisecrack or smartass remark and make somebody laugh, I'm gonna do it," he replied with a shrug. "It took me a long time to keep that to myself when I'm on duty dealing with a suspect; even now it slips through once in awhile."
"I'm just glad you kept your sense of humor; I've seen more than one cop go sour after they put the badge on."
"If that ever starts happening, I'll turn in the badge and find some other way to make a living." Taking a sip of his coffee, he shifted slightly in his seat before speaking again. "So now that you've got a day job, what's next on your agenda?"
Kate finished the sip of coffee she'd just taken before responding. "Well, pending a little paperwork that's left, I've more or less bought a house in Middleton; the main thing now is gonna be getting used to the change of pace."
Jake chuckled and shook his head. "I still can't believe you've gone from superhero to supervillain to school teacher," he said. "Like I said before, I never would've thought you as the teacher type; especially not a teacher of advanced math classes."
"It's gonna be a bit of a culture shock for awhile, but I think I'll get used to it easy enough," she shrugged. "I mean, come on; I'm starting to close in on thirty and this is the first legit job I've ever had in my life. Of course there's gonna be an adjustment curve."
"Are you sure you won't go shack-whacky?" he countered. "I know you, Katie; as much as you might not want to admit it, you're an adrenaline junkie. Not to say you won't enjoy teaching—I actually think, based on your enthusiasm about it, that you're gonna love it—but somewhere along the line you're gonna get the itch to get out and do something dangerous or crazy." He wanted to say "stupid," but knew better than to use that particular adjective to describe Kate, lest he get a quick reminder on just how talented she was in the hurt department.
"Considering the crowd I'm running with now, I don't think there'll be much danger in that," the mint-skinned woman replied wryly. "Along with having a day job at the high school, I'm gonna be working part time with Kim on some of her more dangerous missions or when they're shorthanded… like now."
"Ah-ah-ah, naughty Katie, drinking on call," Jake mock-admonished, waggling a finger at her.
"Oh, bite me," she groused with a grin as she took another sip of her coffee. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment; finally broken by Kate heaving a contented sigh. "I didn't realize how much I missed this until now," she said with a nostalgic tone.
"Missed what?" Jake asked, not quite understanding what she was getting at.
"This," she replied, gesturing at the two of them, "sitting with a friend and taking it easy; no need to worry about whether or not some cheerleader and her boyfriend are gonna come busting in to foil your latest plan… my God, my life really did sound like a Saturday morning cartoon," she trailed off.
Jake threw his head back and laughed heartily. "Now that you mention it, it does kinda sound like that, doesn't it?" he said, his laughter subsiding as he continued. "I've missed this, too, Katie… I thought about you a lot when we fell out of touch."
"I can't say the same thing," she admitted as she absently fondled the chain around her neck, a slight flush tinting her cheeks. "I did at first—before I got into the world domination game—but when Drakken hired me, I couldn't help but think how you'd feel if you knew what I'd gotten myself into. It… it hurt so much that I blocked you out of my mind as much as I could. Every once in awhile, though, something would remind me of you and all those memories would hit me like a ton of bricks."
"If it bothered you that bad, why did you stay with Drakken for as long as you did?" he asked; his tone suggesting curiosity rather than accusation.
A mirthless chuckle escaped Kate's lips. "Kim asked me the same question," she said, "and I'll give you the same answer: I got off on the challenge and rationalized what I was doing in every way imaginable."
"How could you possibly rationalize a list of felonies as long as a freight train?"
"I wasn't hurting anybody that didn't get in my way, and I never killed or permanently crippled anybody," she said with a hint of shame. "Coupled with getting off on the challenge of breaking into some of the most secure buildings on the planet—you said it yourself, I'm a bit of an adrenaline junkie—and the fact that I was working for the most incompetent dolt I'd ever met, it ended up turning into a game between me and Kim… in my mind, at least."
Jake considered what Kate told him for a long moment before finally nodding. "I can understand that," he finally said with a grin. "I won't say I agree with your thought process, but I can understand it. At least you finally took the chance to get out before it was too late."
"Yeah," Kate sighed, staring into her coffee cup wistfully. "My only regret is I didn't do it sooner."
"No regrets," Jake retorted firmly. "Everything happens for a reason and it all worked out in the end; now's the time to look forward."
Kate's gaze shifted back to her one-time constant companion; her emerald eyes sparkling to match the slow smile that spread across her face. "I think that's probably the deepest thing you've ever said," she teased lightly, sipping her coffee as he shot her a dirty look.
"Just for that, I'm not going to give you the present I bought you," he replied haughtily, turning away from her before the grin gave him away.
"Jake, you didn't have to get me anything," she said with an exasperated sigh. "Just having me over for dinner was more than enough."
Dropping the charade, Jake chuckled and put his cup on the end table as he got to his feet. "All the more reason for me to do it," he said with a shrug. "You wait right there and I'll go get it."
Kate watched him exit the room with a bemused smirk on her face. He always used to do stuff like this, she thought fondly as she remembered their teen years, giving me some sort of trinket or present for whatever… I guess I really shouldn't be surprised.
Her musings were cut short by Jake's return. In his hand was a small box wrapped in generically festive paper. "Something for you to keep on your desk," he said as he handed it to her.
Chuckling lightly, Kate took the box and gingerly tore the paper from it. Opening the cardboard cube, she withdrew a black stoneware coffee mug with "World's Greatest Teacher" emblazoned on it in bold, green lettering; her chuckle quickly morphing into a full-body laugh. "Where in the hell did you ever find this?" she gasped.
"I was just gonna get you a congratulations card and a gift certificate for the mall, but when I walked in the card shop and saw that mug sitting on a shelf, I knew that's what I had to get you instead," he replied with a mischievous grin. "Between the colors and the caption, I knew it was perfect."
Still giggling under her breath, Kate returned the mug to its box and turned her eyes back to Jake. "It was perfect, Jake; thank you," she said with full sincerity as she glanced at her watch; her eyes widening in surprise as she took in the time. "Is it really ten o'clock?"
"I guess it is," he replied as he confirmed the time on his own watch. "Time flies when you're having fun, huh?"
"Some things never change," she commented with a grin as she stood up, "but I really should get going; big day tomorrow with the lawyer and real estate agent… not to mention I have to start shopping for some furniture."
Jake chuckled as he escorted her to the door. "At least if you're buying new I don't have to worry about getting suckered into lugging it into the house; let the guys that deliver it worry about it."
An evil glint appeared in Kate's emerald eyes as she smirked at him. "Just for that, I'm gonna make sure I rearrange my living room at least once a month; maybe more often."
"Me and my big mouth," he sighed melodramatically.
Kate laughed and put her hand on his shoulder, her evil smirk replaced by a warmer, more sincere smile. "Listen, I really had a great time tonight," she said, "and I appreciate you doing this for me… thank you."
"Anytime, Katie," he replied as they slipped into a hug, "and congratulations again on your new job."
Kate was still smiling as she slipped into the driver's seat of her car and started the engine. Spending an evening with Jake only served to re-affirm how much she'd come to miss his company over the years; even if she hadn't realized it at the time. Thanking her lucky stars again that their paths had crossed and reunited them, the former villainess withdrew a cigarette from her purse and lit it before putting the car in gear and leaving her old friend's apartment complex, her elbow sticking out the open window.
About halfway between Jake's townhouse and Global Justice—just as she crossed the bridge over the creek that formed the border between Upperton and Middleton—Kate noticed a person waving frantically at her from the side of the road at the Middleton end of the bridge. Recognizing the expression of sheer terror on the young woman's face as she drew closer, the former villainess pulled over about twenty yards off the bridge and climbed out of the car. "What's wrong? Do you need an ambulance or the police?"
"No cops!" the younger woman shrieked as she ran towards her apparent rescuer. "Just get me the fuck out of here!"
"Whoa! Not so fast there, chicky," Kate retorted as she caught her by the shoulders and held her still. "Not until you tell me what's going on." On closer inspection, she could see the distressed woman—she looked familiar, but Kate couldn't place where from—was certainly in need of somebody's help. Not only was her T-shirt torn, but the portion of her legs visible below the cutoff jeans she wore had several scrapes—some fairly nasty looking—and her face was battered and bruised, including a bloody nose and two black eyes. "Did your date not know how to take 'no' for an answer or something?"
"Can we get out of here first and then I'll explain?" she shot back, near panic. "I promise, as soon as we get in the car, I'll explain everything, but we have to go, now!"
"Okay, okay, fine," Kate relented, leading her to the passenger side of the car and helping her into the front seat. "But just in case you get any funny ideas about an ambush…" she trailed off and held up her right hand, encased in roiling green plasma. "Clear?"
The young woman's eyes widened briefly as she eyed the glowing plasma inches from her nose; first in shock, then recognition as she realized who had just picked her up. "You're the woman that's been helping Kim and Ron, aren't you?"
Kate extinguished her hand and relaxed. "Yeah… you know them, I'm guessing?"
"I went to school with them; my name's Bonnie," she replied, also relaxing.
"I thought you looked familiar," Kate said with a nod, remembering the times their paths had crossed in the past. Closing the passenger door, she rounded the car and climbed into the driver's seat, casting another quick glance at Bonnie's injuries as she fastened her seatbelt. "So what happened to leave you way the hell out here looking like something the cat dragged in, anyway?"
Bonnie heaved a sigh as she gingerly rubbed her bruised jaw. "I made a rather disturbing discovery about my boyfriend—or should I say, ex-boyfriend—today, and when I confronted him about it, this is what happened."
"What sort of discovery, if you don't mind me asking?"
A derisive snort—followed by a painful moan—came from the leggy brunette as she responded. "Well, ever since Daddy cut off his exorbitant allowance, Junior's—"
"Whoa, back that trolley up for a sec," Kate interrupted. "Did you say 'Junior,' as in Señor Senior, Junior?"
"Yeah… do you know him?"
"You could say that," the malachite woman deadpanned as she abruptly took a side street. "I kind of understand why you don't want to get the cops involved, but would you talk to me and Kim? We might be able to help."
Bonnie nodded rapidly. "I would much rather talk to Kim than the police right now; I think she would have a better chance at him than they would, anyway."
"I hope she's still awake," Kate murmured as she glanced at the clock on the dash, digging her phone from her purse at the same time.
As it turned out, Kim was indeed still awake with her Heckler & Koch MK23 lying field-stripped on a cotton rag spread over her desk. Part of the training she and Ron had done with the Global Justice firearms instructor included how to properly care for and maintain their weapons, and as with anything else she was instructed on, she followed directions to the letter. Twice a week she would go to the firing range to hone her marksmanship (which was already competition-caliber), and weekly she would field strip, clean and oil her weapon, keeping it in tiptop condition and ready at a moment's notice should she need it.
She was just about to start reassembling the pistol when her cell phone started ringing. Putting the chassis and barrel back on the cloth, she glanced at the caller ID and grinned when she saw the name; grabbing the device and putting it to her ear before the second ring finished. "So how'd it go?" she gushed.
"Later," Kate replied tersely on the other end of the line. "I just picked up a friend of yours that seems to have had a bit of a run-in with her ex-boyfriend; she wants to know if we can come over so she can tell us what's going on."
"What kind of a run-in are we talking about?" Kim asked, her smile quickly fading from her lips.
"The kind that you're probably gonna be a little more interested in than usual. We'll be there in two."
With that, the call abruptly ended, leaving a nonplussed Kim sitting at her desk and staring at her phone with a raised eyebrow. Shaking her head, she quickly descended to the main level of the house just as headlights appeared in their driveway.
"Is somebody here, Kimmie-cub?" James asked from his recliner, muting the late news.
"Yeah, Kate just called and told me she picked up one of my friends and was bringing her over; she was kinda sketchy on the details, but hopefully it'll make sense now that she's here," the redhead replied as she opened the front door.
"Hey Kim," Kate waved as she rounded her car and helped her passenger out.
"Hey Kate," she said as she descended the front steps. Her eyes widened in shock as Bonnie emerged and revealed her condition to her former rival. "Oh, my God, Bonnie; what happened?"
"Junior," the tawny brunette snarled as Kate shut the car door.
"Well, come inside and tell us the story; I'll get Mom to take a look at you and make sure there's no damage we can't see," Kim said, beckoning the other two women to follow her into the house. Barely taking enough time to close the front door, she led them past the family room—and a slightly bewildered James—and into the kitchen, where they found Anne nursing a mug of herbal tea.
Looking up from her soothing nightcap, she smiled at her daughter's friends, the smile quickly fading as she saw Bonnie's injuries. "What happened?" she asked in a no-nonsense doctor's tone.
"Domestic dispute," Kate deadpanned as Kim guided Bonnie to sit in a chair across from the neurosurgeon.
"Has anybody called the police yet?" she asked as she immediately started examining her daughter's former cheer teammate.
"I don't want the cops involved," Bonnie replied. "Chances are they'd make a mess out of everything and Junior would get away before they got their hands on him. Kim, on the other hand, I think can nail his ass to the wall faster than you can say 'Le Goop'."
"Bonnie's right, Mom," Kim chimed in as she sat down in the chair her mother had vacated. "If Junior even remotely suspects the cops are looking for them, he'll go running back to Daddy… if he hasn't already," she finished with a scowl, keying her Kimmunicator at the same time.
As usual, Wade's face appeared almost instantly on the screen. "Hey Kim; what up?" he asked in his usual, laid-back manner.
"I need a location and direction of travel on Junior ten minutes ago," she retorted, glancing briefly at Bonnie, who winced and inhaled sharply as Anne gently probed at her nose.
"On it," he said, his fingers flying over multiple keyboards. Moments later, he turned back to the camera. "If he's got his cell phone on him, it looks like he's at a dance club in Upperton; Sweetwater's."
"He's probably there," Bonnie offered, "he goes to that club almost every night; I'm pretty sure that's where he was going when he dumped me off."
Kim nodded as she absorbed the information. "Okay, Wade; keep an eye on him," she said. "If he leaves, track him and keep me posted, especially if you see he's headed for the airport."
"You got it, Kim," the young tech guru said as he signed off.
Dropping her arm back to her side, Kim turned her attention to Bonnie, who was holding a brave face as Anne dabbed antiseptic cream on her multitude of wounds. "Okay Bonnie, Wade's gonna keep an eye on Junior for us; now, what made him decide to lay the smackdown on you and dump you on the side of the road like an empty beer can?"
"It started at about dinnertime today when I got home from the grocery store," she replied. "I wasn't gone as long as I expected to be, and I don't think Junior was expecting me back quite so soon; when I got back to the apartment, he was at the kitchen table with a couple of his scumbag friends he's been hanging around with and they were closing a deal."
"What kind of deal?"
"Drugs; cocaine to be precise," Bonnie replied with a disgusted scowl.
Both Kim and Kate gasped in shock at the revelation. Sure, they knew that Señor Senior, Junior wasn't exactly the most scrupulous person on the planet, but at the same time they figured his biggest downfall was his ego; never once did they suspect the self-centered young man as the type to start getting into hard drugs. "How much coke are we talking?" the former villainess asked once she recovered. "Was it single-serve or are we talking trafficking and distribution amounts?"
"I'm not sure of the quantity of the smack itself, but I heard one of the greasers say something about two hundred large."
"So he's not necessarily using, but maybe he's moving shit to supplement his income?" Kim suggested.
"Sounds plausible," Kate mused, turning back to Bonnie. "So you catch him in the process of moving some pretty large quantities of a major narcotic; what happened next?"
"In my infinite wisdom, I decided to confront him on it," she said, her scowl and overall expression darkening. "Nobody's gonna be dealing illegal drugs in my kitchen!"
"And things got ugly," Kim supplied.
"Things got real ugly real quick," Bonnie confirmed. "Once they got over the surprise that I was there, the three of them stood up from the table and surrounded me. Of course old habits die hard, and Queen Bitch woke up, but as you can see it didn't do me any good. As soon as I told them to take their shit and get out, Junior not so politely reminded me that his daddy was paying for the apartment, so it was more his than mine; not to mention I'm only a woman and have no real say in what happens."
"I have to say, Bonnie, for having been beaten by three grown men, you're really in not that bad of shape," Anne commented as she dabbed more antiseptic cream on a cut. "Aside from your nose—for which I would strongly recommend going to the emergency room to have it checked properly—all I can find are some minor cuts and bruises. I don't even see anything that would require stitches; do you have any pain in your abdomen or anything that might suggest internal injuries?"
"No," she replied with a slight shake of her head, "just sore where the cuts and bruises are."
"Good," the physician nodded as she stood up. "I'm going to go get some gauze and tape to wrap up the worst cuts; most of them should heal on their own in a couple of days, the worst ones might take a week."
"Thanks, Dr. Possible," Bonnie said with a grateful smile to her, "I really appreciate you doing this for me."
"Think nothing of it," Anne dismissed with a wave. "After being Kim and Ron's unofficial team physician for the last few years, a couple of bumps and bruises is a walk in the park."
"Mom brings up a good point, though," Kim said once her mother had left the room, "for taking on Junior and a couple of 'greasers', as you called them, you're not really banged up all that bad. I've seen domestic violence cases that leave a woman in a lot worse shape than this."
"In a way it's kind of embarrassing," Bonnie confessed with a hint of shame, "but it only took the one punch to my nose to knock me out. I woke up lying in the ditch along 42, about three miles from the bridge on the Upperton side. I didn't have my phone or any money on me—my pockets were empty, actually—so I started walking back to Middleton. Kate was the first one to actually stop when I tried to flag a car down."
"I don't know if you realize just how lucky you actually are to be sitting here telling us your story," Kate said. "Usually when somebody's collateral damage in a drug deal, they end up in the ditch with a nine-millimeter lobotomy."
"And as good a neurosurgeon as Mom is, I don't think even she'd be able to fix that," Kim added.
"No, that's a little beyond my scope," Anne confirmed as she returned with a large first-aid kit in her hands. "But Kate's right, Bonnie; you are extremely fortunate that they didn't just kill you outright."
"Junior might have talked them out of it," she guessed. "For as much of a pig as he is, I do know he's not capable of cold-blooded murder."
"Which supports the theory that he's only dealing and not doing smack," Kate said. "One of the side-effects of cocaine can be pretty violent mood swings; the type that would make 'roid rage look like a toddler's temper tantrum. I've seen it before," she added with a slight shudder, her left hand absently resting on her lower abdomen, "it can get nasty in a hurry."
"So you're obviously not gonna be going back to your apartment tonight; are you going back to your parents' house?" Kim asked.
"Probably," Bonnie confirmed with a sigh. "As much as I don't want to listen to Connie and Lonnie, at least I know I don't have to worry about whether or not they're gonna do something to me in my sleep."
Kim glanced briefly at her mother, who obviously knew what she was thinking and nodded her assent. "Would you rather crash here until we do something about Junior?"
A wave of relief visibly washed over the injured teen as she regarded her former classmate. "Are you sure it won't be a problem?" she asked, her eyes moving back and forth between the two redheads.
"Not at all," Anne answered as she bandaged one of Bonnie's wounds. "You're more than welcome to stay here as long as you need; I'm sure Kim and Kate will have this straightened out shortly."
"Bet on it," Kim confirmed, her expression returning to full mission-mode. "What do you say, Kate; is a trip to Upperton in order?"
A smirk crossed the malachite woman's black-painted lips. "Let's roll," she said, rising from her seat.