Kim Possible and all related characters are the property of Disney. The concept for this story is my own though. If anyone wants to use this story or my characterisations in their own work, please feel free, but message me about it first please.
Chapter Two
New Job
Next day Betty was woken by the clattering of cats outside her window. She knew all three of them, and while it was technically part of her job to report strays she knew about to the animal collection services, she didn't quite have the heart. She almost felt like they were her cats, for all that they only showed up twice a week at most.
Rolling out of bed she staggered to the window, avoiding the debris which littered her room, and slid the window open. Down below the three of them were circling, looking up and mewling. The dustbin lid they had knocked over continued to rattle a little, but the sound wasn't exactly uncommon.
Reaching over to her desk Betty found the loaf of bread she kept forgetting to put in her kitchen, and broke up a slice before dropping the bits to the floor. She watched them for a while as they ate the bread, then went to get ready. That was when she realised she was still wearing her uniform from yesterday.
Urgh. She pulled off her jacket as she headed to the shower, snagging a towel from the back of a chair and digging out some shampoo from under a pile of cleaner clothes. Guess I should have tried to stay awake a little longer.
Under the shower she let the hot water pound on her head for as long as she felt she could, leaning back slightly against the wall of the cramped cubicle. New job today. New life.
She dried and dressed quickly, collected the datapad and put all the items she would need into various pockets. She put the datapad into the rucksack she had been told to bring, and hurried out of the door, locking it behind her.
Not that a lock would do a damn bit of good against any of the thieves around here, but it makes me feel better.
She took the stairs three at a time, exchanging her apartment keys for her motorcycle keys. It was a pretty old bike, but that actually went some way to assuring quality. They keep churning out these damn electric razors instead of real motorbikes and soon there won't be any decent rides out there.
She swung her leg over the bike and started it with a satisfying roar. Home tune ups, nothing like 'em. She kept it as far over the limit as she felt she could get away with, which was pretty high. Speed limits were low on a cop's list of things to keep an eye on.
What happened to this city? She shook her head and concentrated on the road, it didn't bear thinking about some things.
***
The docks were just as they always were, populated by the homeless, dilapidated warehouses and broken jetties. She kept the engine running as she walked the bike through, checking the datapad every so often to make sure she was heading for the right location. When she finally got there she found it was just another warehouse, with nothing special to set it apart.
Surely not. She checked the datapad, which was now beeping faintly, a dot on the map pulsing at her. Definitely the place.
She pushed the bike inside the doors, and turned on the headlight, which cast a circular beam over a good portion of the floor. It looked far too clean, and a few feet in it actually became tiled, instead of the wooden boards she would have expected.
This is... different.
She stopped and looked around, trying to make out any details of the interior of the warehouse.
"Ms Director, please make your way to the centre of the floor."
A light flickered on a few metres ahead of her, and she walked into it, wondering just what was going to happen next. She kept both hands on the handlebars of her bike, still trying to peer through the gloom. There was a mechanical click somewhere close by, and she was suddenly plummeting down, keeping a tight grip on her bike.
She came to a stop in a brightly lit room, completely empty, lined in white tiles and bathed in soft light. She was directly in the centre of the space, and she couldn't make out a door anywhere.
"Hello?"
"Ms Director, how nice of you to join us." A section of the wall slid open next to her, and a middle aged man walked out, smartly dressed in a blue uniform. "Though you are a little late."
"I overslept."
"We value punctuality in our agents Ms Director, this will be noted. Follow me to the next testing area, your motorbike will not be necessary, you can leave it here."
She nearly protested, but apparently she was skating on thin ice as it was, no need to antagonise them further. She took her rucksack, which had her items stuffed into it, and followed the uniformed man back through the door and along a corridor that seemed to be entirely steel. She guessed the first room was only in the pristine state to impress people; everything else would be functional and practical.
"The procedure for entrance into Global Justice is to undergo several examinations. First a written test, then a physical examination and a shooting competition. The final tests are field exams, but you only undergo those if you make it through the first few stages."
His tone told her everything. Just you watch, I'll be part of this organisation by the end of these tests, whatever you think.
"So what's your name chief?" She asked.
He frowned at her, "You may address me as Agent Tor, and please be formal."
"Absolutely Agent Tor."
He smiled smugly at her submission, but underneath she was making notes. Thinking of the best way to show this guy up when she had the chance. I don't think it'll take much to knock him down a peg or two.
They had apparently reached their destination, as he pulled open a door to reveal a large square room, which had ten desks already set out, of which nine were taken. The only spare one was right at the front, on the far side of the room; she would have to walk the long way round. A man in a blue uniform stood at the front as well, and as she strolled in he glanced at her.
"Ms Director I assume?"
"That's me."
"Please take your seat." He gestured, and she headed for it. She had intended to bustle over quickly, but when she saw the other candidates she decided to take her time, strutting across the room like she owned it. They were all army stiff-necks, and that she was late was enough to have them all grimacing at her like she had just kicked each of their puppies.
I wish I still had some chewing gum. She slid into her seat carefully, settled herself comfortably, and looked innocently to the agent at the front, who was looking right back at her.
"As I was saying before Ms Director joined us, I am Doctor Seur, and I am the man nominally in charge of Global Justice, though really I am more of a figurehead. I am here to begin your entrance examination, which as you have been told consists of a written test to begin with. Basic languages, mathematics, sciences. Don't worry, this is the easy part. Anyone selected for this course should already have the knowledge necessary."
Betty looked down at the paper on her desk, then shrugged and pulled out one of her pens; she might as well go along with it, no matter how unnecessary and basic.
"You may begin."
She turned over and read the first question:
Let p(x) be a polynomial of degree n. Determine the maximal number of solutions of the equation p(x) = ln x.
Oh dear.
She skimmed further down:
Name the precise sites of production in the human female of the following hormones
This is going to be somewhat harder than I thought.
She picked up her pen, aware of the other candidates already furiously scribbling away, and returned to the first question.
***
An hour later she was none the wiser. She thought she might have done okay on some of the English based questions, and she had enough facility with languages to know she had done well on that part of the exam, but the rest of it, the hard maths and science, had utterly baffled her.
There was no time to reflect though, because the candidates were all being led to the next testing area, the physical examination. She used the walk to get a proper look at her peers. There were two other women, one a buzz-cut marine, a tattoo visible above her collar line. The other was a waif like figure with long blonde hair back in a ponytail. All the rest were muscled men, most of whom were taller than her.
Not to mention, I'm the only one here not in a uniform. She was beginning to regret wearing her usual leathers, but then again, it was better than being part of the cut and dried brigade. She deliberately hung back from them, sauntering along like she didn't have any reason to hurry.
It really was hard not to laugh at the way they all automatically marched in sync with each other.
AN:- Betty continues her maverick behaviour, sort of.
Doctor Seur: I enjoyed this name, his full name is Reginald Seur, or Regi Seur, and as anyone with a basic knowledge of German knows, Regisseur is the German for Director. (I wasjust going to leave this, but I figured it was a bit too obscure not to have some reference to)
There's a lot of foreshadowing in this chapter, most of which I won't touch on, but I will say that the cats are probably going to return.
Betty's room being a desolute wasteland is a deliberate subversion of character here. I wanted to use this story to show how Betty became the highly driven, very focused woman we meet, and it was more fun to start it from a perspective as far from it as I could get (and remember, she goes out to fight Gemini personally, which must be against regulations, she's still a maverick dammit!) Also, I liked the idea of having her dressed in form fitting leather biker's gear, but that's more for fanservice than for any good reason.
The 'damn electric razors' is a reference to Sin City; Most of the testing scene is lifted from Men in Black, obviously. I liked that movie. Those questions are real university level mathematics and biology questions from Cambridge university papers (which I copied from the internet) and no I don't know the answers. The buzz-cut marine girl and waif like blonde are a dual reference to Aliens (I love shout outs.) And as a final note, I imagine Betty Director to be dressed a lot like Angelina Jolie in the first Tomb Raider movie (the auction scene, where she's in bike leathers).
I'm not a hundred percent sure why I'm showing the whole test sequence (*cough*exposition*cough*) when we all know what the inevitable outcome is (*cough*foreshadowing*cough*). But I like doing things the hard way, besides, it lets me set up Betty's character a little more.