DISCLAIMER: Nothing belongs to me if you've seen it on TV. There's a lot of Christmas stuff I don't own, either. Who knows how much of that will get dragged outta the attic. Soundtrack for this chapter: Glimmer by John Foxx; Romance 76 by Peter Baumann; Ages by Edgar Froese.

There was still a lot of snow from last week's blizzard; pristine no longer, it was heaped in ever-dirtier mounds all over Middleton. At least it had warmed up some. You could go outside without frostbite, if you were careful.

"Kim!"

Standing on the sidewalk outside Smarty Mart, she looked around, certain she'd heard her name. It sounded like Wade Load, but a man as big as he was could scarcely hide from her on this parking lot. Sometimes she wondered if the "growth spurt" that made him an Adonis had been completely natural. Over the years, Wade had proven capable of some strange things; genetic manipulation wouldn't be beyond him.

"Kim!"

She was going to have to call Wade, too, since she'd heard nothing from the computer genius about what she had come to think of simply as The Quest. If it was all going to fall through, she needed to know. Of course, The Six Tasks of Snowman Hank wasn't the only thing she was getting her husband for Christmas, but she was definitely depending on it being the Present of the Year. And they were down to two weeks.

"Kim! Listen. Don't look around. Just listen."

She looked down, almost cried out in surprise. "Wade!" By some miracle, she'd managed to keep it to a whispered hiss. "What are you doing?"

He was barely visible through the grate of the storm drain at her feet. "Gotta lie low. Knew you'd used this method on occasion. Chester Yapsby, right?"

"Don't remind me."

"Didn't know how I was gonna get in touch with you. Sheer chance."

"Why didn't you, you know, just call me? Or beep me? You've got the Kimmunicator."

"No, I don't. They confiscated everything I had. Including the Kimmunicator."

"They? Who are we talking about?" Some Smarty Mart shoppers looked at her oddly as they passed.

There was panic in Wade's eyes. "Stop talking to me. Look at something else."

She began to study the cases of anti-freeze and windshield washer stacked outside the store, feeling vaguely ridiculous.

"So far I've dodged 'em."

The single word popped out despite his request for her silence. "Who?"

"Kim, if you draw their attention, we're done."

She suddenly realized this was no joke. Something serious was happening. Deadly serious.

"I don't know who they are," Wade continued. "I barely got out of there in one piece." He paused. "Man, I'm glad I'd moved to that apartment. Mom's not involved in this. And don't you say a thing to her."

She nodded, slightly.

"I don't know what they're after. You know, I've hacked into a lot of things, top-secret things. Nothing like this has ever happened. I must have finally landed on something too important for them to look the other way. No idea what it might be, though – all I've been doing is looking for that crazy Christmas special."

A car drove up, disgorged a couple of kids and a harried-looking mother, drove on to find a parking spot somewhere on the crowded lot. "Hey," said the older girl, a teen, "are you Kim Possible?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued: "I met you, like, years ago. Outside a bank. You were fighting Shego, but you stopped long enough to give me an autograph."

Kim remembered that incident very well, paradoxically because her memory had been impaired at the time. She had been going through the slow process of regaining it when the little girl had approached her; too confused to realize how much danger Shego posed to Ron, she'd dropped out of the fight to sign the girl's notebook.

These days, of course, no supervillain posed a threat to Ron. World takeover schemes had dropped to zero once the enemies of the world realized the power of the master of Tai Sheng Pek Kwar. No one wanted to end up like the late, unlamented Warhok and Warmonga, who had controlled the planet for almost a day. And then been buried.

At least what was left of them.

"Katelyn, right?" The teen smiled. "Merry Christmas."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"I'm sorta busy at the moment –"

The teenager drew closer, spoke quietly, obviously hoping her mother wouldn't overhear her. "What's she like?"

"Who?"

"Shego. I watched her marry Drakken on The Paparazzi Network. OMG, she was so beautiful –"

"She's a villain, Katelyn! Hardly, ah, a role model for aspiring teens –"

"Was a villain. She was pardoned. I mean, her and Drakken, it was so romantic, like Bella and Edward –"

For some reason, Kim felt like she had to reassert herself. "You know, I married Ron, too."

"Who's he?"

"Come on, Katelyn," snarled her mother, "don't bother that woman. She must be busy." Her weary, angry eyes met Kim's. "I know I am."

As they entered the Smarty Mart, Kim heard the younger child ask, "Who was that?"

"She used to be a superhero," answered Katelyn, as the doors slid shut. "I used to be her biggest fan."

Vaguely troubled by the strange conversation, Kim glanced down at the storm grate. Wade was gone. There was a post-it note stuck to the grate; making sure she was unobserved, she reached down and retrieved it. A series of numbers. That was all.

Christmas shopping would have to wait.

As the Sloth pulled off the lot, a strange figure at the wheel of a completely nondescript late model sedan yanked out a communicator. "I've sighted Target One, BIL."

The reply was immediate. "Stop mit ze BIL already. I am not your brother-in-law. Divorced for years you haf been. I am no longer AMUSED BY THE APPELLATION!"

"Sorry, uh, Christoph."

"Ven you haf completed dis mission, Myron, ve vill consider ze first-name basis. Until den, you vill refer to me VITH ZE RESPECT I DEMAND! Be GRATEFUL I haf RE-EMPLOYED you after zat last DEBACLE."

"Yes, Professor Dementor." He said it in the tones of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"Vat vas she doing?"

"Talking to a storm drain. And some weird teenager. "

"Zat ist very inexplicable, and I do not like it."

"Yeah, kids these days, I don't get them at all."

"I had more ze STORM DRAIN in mind, Myron! Such conversations are portents of mysterious things afoot."

"How do we even know she still has the suit? She hasn't done the crimefighter stuff in forever."

"If she doesn't, then she knows who DOES. Und vith zat self-healing, spring-stepping suit finally in my vardrobe, I can again begin ze CONQUEST OF THE WORLD AND SURROUNDING REGIONS! Vith it, even her husband's lethal powers can be ADDRESSED… und NULLIFIED."

"And that's a good thing, right?"

"Oh, a very, very goot thing, Myron. An absolutely vunderbar thing. Vhere is she now?"

"Ah – in her car – driving away."

"You vill maintain ze surveillance of Target One. Secretly. All things zat are unvernünftig you vill DO NOT. Understand? I am not Drakken. I do not endure constantly ze asinine minions."

Myron smiled, a goofy grin. "Yeah, but the Strudelworks is out of business. Can't go back to that!"

"Then if I cannot return you to ze Strudelvorks, I vill simply haf to DISINTEGRATE YOU." The communicator fell silent; Dementor's flunky shifted uncomfortably in the car seat. "DO NOTHING STUPID. Are ve on ze same PAGE, Myron?"

"Yes, Professor Dementor."

"Keep me informed. I vant always to be in ze LOOP. Dementor out."

While talking to his employer, Myron had allowed Target One to escape his eagle eye; hastily he drove off, in the general direction Kim had taken, on his way to getting hopelessly lost on the side streets of Middleton.

Neither Kim nor Myron realized other, more sinister eyes were also watching.