Release Notes:
I find it humorous that I continue to write these little "behind the scenes" crap for my readers, when it is painfully obvious that NO ONE reads my stories. I can tell this because I have, like, no reviews. If you are one of those millions of quiet, secret readers that I like to pretend that I have, feel free to leave a comment or two. It makes me want to write even more if I feel like someone wants to read this crap.
Anywho, the saga continues. You may notice I am getting into almost pornographically descriptive shower scenes with our two favorite female characters. So sue me. I try to be pornographically descriptive of everything I write. It makes me feel like I'm actually writing and not just dictating wish-fulfillment. I did try and keep them tasteful and fairly tact. It's hard not to be sexy when describing these two women. But I wanted to write the scenes as windows into their private lives, when they are at their most vulnerable and introspective. I know that I am at my most introspective when I am alone in the shower, stripped of everything but myself. I simply wanted to see those two powerful characters in the same sort of position. I'm not a perv… I swear.
Oh, and just so you know how messed up my timeline is… I was halfway done writing this part when I saw "Oh No. Yono!" I was glad I did, so I could reference it along with Hana (you'll see where). I knew I wanted to play with Hana as a character and an influence in the saga, so I'm glad I got to see that story when I did. The way I figure it right now, this first arc in my little saga occurs during season 4, prior to graduation (the series finale). I really want to see how that turns out before I decide if I want to write my own version of graduation. I'd rather not, if I can make my story fit around it effectively. In that case, the next arc may take place not long after grad. Naturally, I'll have to watch it first before I decide. I'll keep you informed of my decision.
You know, in case you give a crap.
I know I don't.
The Author.
Part Four: Saturday Morning Blues
Morning descended upon the sleepy suburban town of Middleton, USA with a vengeance. Birds chirped. Flowers bloomed. Paperboys rode. It was Saturday.
Golden rays of sunlight managed to creep their way between the closed curtains of one particular window and play upon a sleeping female form draped in purple and pink sheets. Long red hair splayed out across her pillow, framing her young face. On the bed next to her, lay an open political science book. She was a senior student at the local Middleton high school, but this book was not required reading. In fact, it was an introductory textbook for university-level courses.
She stirred.
Bright green eyes appeared between feminine eyelashes, blinking and squinting at the intruding sun. The last fleeting memories of a lucid dream disappeared from the edge of her consciousness. She moaned and flipped herself over, burying her face in the pillow. She lay there, half awake, trying to force her way back into a dream she had already forgotten. Minutes passed, and the young woman drifted back into slumber.
Then, something chimed at her on the nightstand.
Kimberly Ann Possible growled into her pillow. For once, she'd like to have slept in on a Saturday. No work. No school. And no saving the world. It was not an uncommon thought for Kim Possible, teen crime fighter and freelance superhero; the desire for a normal life. Something she saw her other friends enjoy, like Monique. Or even, dare she think it, Bonnie Rockwaller. Normal worries and normal sitches.
The Kimmunicator, a high-tech communication device that was normally strapped to her wrist, chimed a second time from her nightstand. Kim sighed and smiled away her self-pity. She could never give up helping people like she did. Besides, her life had never been normal and she knew it never would be. So she would make the best of what she had.
She reached across to the bedside table and palmed the gadget. Bringing it up to her face, she pressed a button that brought the miniature computer screen to life with the freckled face of a younger, but long-time friend.
"Hey Wade," she yawned. "What's the sitch?"
"Morning, Kim," the child genius greeted, "sorry if I woke you. Guess I work on a different schedule then most people."
"No big," the blurry-eyed cheerleader smiled, "news on Drakken?"
Wade Load's dark face frowned. "Yes and no. I managed to skim a bit of info from the Global Justice network about WEE and Gemini. It's not a whole lot, though. Mostly just stuff they've documented from the many encounters between them."
Kim rolled her eyes. "You'd think the Worldwide Evil Empire would be a bigger deal for Dr. Director. Given that her twin brother is the head of it."
"It's not like that," Wade shook his head, "the Empire is on top priority for GJ. But they have as much trouble as I am tracking down information. Probably even more so, to tell you the truth, given how easily I can hack their systems. My theory is that the WEE has a cyber ghost on their payroll."
Kim raised an eyebrow. "A what?"
"Cyber ghost." He rotated his hand as he tried to find the words. "Like, a computer wiz who stays connected to the network 24-7, tracking and controlling any information related to WEE."
Kim smiled. "Kinda like an evil Wade?"
The young man blinked in surprise, and then smiled back at the redhead.
"Yeah, something like that."
"Ok, so what did you manage to get?" Kim adjusted her hair, suddenly realizing that it must have been a mess.
"Like I said, not much. From what GJ can gather, the Empire itself is divided into many smaller partitions, each one capable of individual operation. In fact, none of them directly communicate with each other and are excessively secretive towards anyone outside their cell, even other members of the WEE."
"Sounds like a right paranoid bunch." Kim smirked sarcastically.
"Problem is, it works! Even if Global Justice manages to crack one cell, the rest of WEE is unaffected. GJ suspects that only the only one who actually knows about all the cells is Gemini himself as well as maybe a handful of others in his inner circle. It's them who delegate tasks between the different sections and keep their eye on the bigger picture. They can't get much by interrogating captured henchmen, since they don't know anything outside their own cell. Hence, not much info in the GJ systems."
"Ok, that's all major not good." She leaned back into her pillow. "So we have no way of figuring out if Drakken is teamed up with Gemini and the Empire?"
Wade smiled. "That's the yes of the 'yes and no'. Global Justice has verified that the WEE never teams up with rouge villains for their plots. Its part of their whole 'can't trust anyone outside the group' thing they got going on. Plus, Drakken is not exactly respected by much of the villain community. Gemini probably sees him as a kindergarten bully."
"Ok, that's good," the young woman frowned. "But now that doesn't explain this Cutter guy. He keeps popping up at all of Shego's thefts and he definitely helped her escape from the last one. He's got to be working with her and Drakken. Maybe he's not a member of the Worldwide Evil Empire after all?"
Wade shrugged and threw his hands in the air. "Sorry, Kim. I couldn't tell ya one way or the other. I might have jumped to conclusions when I saw his info was deleted from the network. It just looked like the work of the Empire."
"It's ok, Wade." Kim waved the blame away. "So not the drama. We'll just have to figure out his connection to all of this. He must be a major player if he has the connections to stay under the radar like that."
Wade raised an eyebrow. "You think Drakken is trying to play hardball?"
"I don't know. Never figured he'd have it in him." She sighed. "Shego on the other hand… well, whatevs. We'll be ready as usual. Keep up the good work, Wade."
"Please," Wade beamed, "I don't do any other kind." The screen went blank.
She placed the Kimmunicator back on the bedside table and opened her mouth into a massive yawn. Her arms reached out and her back arched off the mattress as she stretched for all she was worth. With a fierce exhale she released and plopped back onto the bed, sheets floating down to settle along her athletic frame.
Her mind ran through possibilities. Drakken didn't usually hire help outside of Shego. He couldn't afford it. He could barely afford her, as far as she knew, which is why Shego often took on freelance projects on the side. The idea that some unknown player had entered the well-rehearsed drama between Team Possible and Drakken didn't sit well with Kim. At least Shego didn't seem to be getting along with her new partner, from what the cheerleader had seen yesterday. A weakness they could possibly exploit.
Kim frowned as she thought of the green-skinned woman that was the greatest adversary she had ever come across. And… had turned out to be one of the greatest friends.
The young woman sighed yet again. It seemed that Shego made her do that a lot. They were arch enemies. That was that. Shego would never change, not really. There was no point to keep wondering about the 'what ifs' between them.
Kim's eyes began to droop. Her thoughts became muddled. It was still Saturday morning, and she didn't need to get up quite yet. Her special "meeting" at Bueno Nacho wasn't until noonish.
Thoughts of a certain young blonde man made her smile warmly as she drifted back into unconsciousness.
"Booya, Saturday!" Came the warcry of a certain young blonde man. Normally, he was reluctant to wake up early on any day, but Saturday morning cartoons were a weekend staple for the freckled face.
With rarely-displayed agility, Ron Stoppable slid down the stairway banister of his childhood home on stocking feet. Reaching the end of the line, he leapt to land on the couch of the rec-room, facing the television. A twist of the foot sent the remote flying up off the floor to be snatched out of the air.
"Rufus, buddy!" He called to his constant companion. "You're gonna miss the start of Rock Bunnies! Get that tail in gear!"
A small, pink shape came screaming down the rail behind Ron. With a squeal and an impressive flip, the naked mole rat landed next to the seated teen with a miniature "Booya!"
Ron leaned back and clicked on the television with a flourish of the wrist. He smiled as the light washed over him and the opening credits to his show began.
"Time for some quality vegetation," he relaxed his posture and was mimicked uncannily by the pink-skinned Rufus. The two were inseparable. A tag-team evil-butt-kicking force to be reckoned with, invaluable members of the teen superhero Team Possible. They had saved each other so many times that Ron had lost count.
In fact, as Ron thought about it, he couldn't count the number of times he had saved Rufus during a mission at all. He couldn't count even one. The blond teen frowned as his thoughts quickly wandered from the escape of Saturday morning cartoons. There had to be one time. Sure, Rufus had proved his worth a hundred times over, a crafty little devil that was often overlooked, causing chaos and distraction when they needed it most. But Ron…
The teen sighed as he realized where his thoughts had brought him. Once again, he found himself trying to justify his worth as a sidekick to the incredible Kim Possible, and deep down, his worth as something more. He looked down at the chipper Rufus, gleefully watching the animated silliness in front of him. A miniscule creature that saved the day on a regular basis. Whereas Ron mostly just ran around and lost his pants. What kind of sidekick was he? How could he deserve to work with Kim? How could he deserve to hold her hand?
Ron knew he had potential. It was only two years ago that he attended a secret school in Japan as an exchange student; the Yamanouchi ninja school. There, he rediscovered a hidden power that lay dormant in him. A power that had been bestowed by accident a year prior. He half-jokingly referred to it as "Mystical Monkey Power", having no other words to describe it. It was as though the world around him slowed down, and everything became lighter. The sacred martial art of Tai Shing Pek Kwar came to him as easily as ordering a grande naco. It was ridiculously ironic, he thought, since he had always had a childhood fear of monkeys, that he would end up being some sort of prophesied "Supreme Monkey Master".
He had never truly mastered the power, however. And though it came and went over the years, he could never consistently access its might. Even recently, with the defeat of his longtime arch foe, Monkey Fist, at the hands of his baby sister no less, he had been practically useless. The gurgling Hana Stoppable, even now sleeping in her room, had dispatched him with almost comical ease. Of course, that was because she had been prophesized to be a powerful mystical force onto herself. She had been unwittingly adopted by his family from the Yamanouchi school itself and he had been charged by Sensei, their ancient and wizened leader, to protect and prepare Hana for her future role as a great ninja warrior. All Ron really did was change her diapers once and a while. He just didn't feel up to the task that the world had thrown on him.
He remembered training with his Yamanouchi classmates and the wizened Sensei those years ago, trying to access his "gift", only to fall on his face or lose his pants in the process. Yori, his closest Yamanouchi friend, would always help him up with a smile and a laugh, ever encouraging. And Sensei would take him aside and offer confusing wisdom, always confident in his students. But Ron felt like a fool, even when he did manage to use his mystical monkey power.
Sensei would just smile through his incredibly long beard and bow before the frowning Ron Stoppable. His voice seemed to resonate with the ages.
"Tai Shing Pek Kwar flows like a river through your blood, Stoppable-san. Its power is there always for you. You need only find the balance of the monkey, carefree and childlike."
Ron figured that kind of made sense, since he never seemed to find the power when he tried to, only when he didn't. Kind of like Hana, who used her own innate mystical power so easily, specifically because she was carefree and childlike. But it still felt wrong to him, trying to be like the monkey. Even after all this time he still held on to the irrational fear, like an invisible wall between him and the enlightenment Sensei described. Somehow, he doubted he would ever truly break the block.
Suddenly realizing that he had been ignoring the television, and the amused chortles of a laughing Rufus, Ron tried to brush the concerns away. It was Saturday morning, no time to fret over such things. Even though he was no martial arts master, he was still part of Team Possible, and he would always be there for Kim. There was never a doubt in his mind that they would be friends and partners forever.
And something more?
Ron thought of his beautiful Kimberly, the way her green eyes sparkled when she smiled. Her hair, like fire, flowing around her perfect face. Any boy alive would walk over hot coals to be her boyfriend, but for some insane reason she had chosen him, her childhood friend, to be that special someone. There wasn't a day that Ron didn't feel like he was the most undeserving guy on the planet.
He frowned at that thought, and turned to look out the nearby window. A beautiful morning for what promised to be a beautiful day. As usual, the teen couple was planning to meet at the fast food joint, Bueno Nacho, after Ron's cartoon shows. It was his favorite food place and Kim always let him drag her there, over and over.
The remote control came up and the television clicked off. Rufus moaned in annoyance and whirled on Ron with a buck-toothed frown.
"Sorry, buddy," the young man patted his head affectionately. "No cartoons for us this morning. We got some work to do before noon." Rufus was quick to smile in response. He understood that Ron had something important on his mind and would probably need his help.
And with that, the two hopped off the couch.
Hundreds of miles away, long black curtains managed to keep the unrelenting sunrise from penetrating a darkened bedroom.
Inside the room, a black-haired woman snored loudly, strewn across a queen-sized bed. Green and black sheets were twisted and flipped from a night of tossing and turning.
Shego rarely slept well.
She rolled over yet again onto her chest, exposing smooth lines of pale green skin running between a grey spaghetti-strapped tank top and matching boxer shorts. She lay there, motionless for a few minutes, breathing deep and regular. Then her eyes opened.
Who was she fooling? She wasn't going back to sleep.
With a groan she pushed herself into a sitting position on her bed. She frowned at her alarm clock.
9:06 AM.
Damn. She had wanted to sleep in. It was going to be another crappy day and she had been drained enough from yesterday. She considered calling in sick and almost laughed at the idea. After all, she lived where she worked. Plus, Drakken would throw a tantrum, particularly since they were in the middle of his latest world domination scheme.
And, sitting next to the alarm clock on the bedside table was a small, round and shiny lump of metal. Shego remembered that she had some unfinished business to take care of today.
The lithe woman extended her arms into the air and arched her back. Ever so slowly, she bent herself over backwards, stretching her body into an arch before rolling over off the bed and onto her feet. One of several yoga exercises she would employ in the mornings, followed by more rigorous physical workout.
Bending and stretching into seemingly uncomfortable positions, Shego went through a practiced routine that she had adopted, like a personal meditation. This was one of the most private events for the typically abrasive women, one that she never shared with anyone.
Rolling up into a standing position, she finished her slow and controlled movements. She then abruptly fell forward onto her hands. She did twenty explosive pushups before flipping herself over and doing twenty quick sit-ups. She stopped to stretch again before repeating the routine. She tried to do this every morning, in addition to her regular workout schedule in the gym.
Finishing her exercises, Shego took a quick shower and brushed her teeth. Wrapping herself in a black towel she sat in front of her vanity and began drying her long black hair. She watched herself in the mirror as she brushed with one hand and blew dry with the other. Her gaze drifted over to the shiny metal rock on her bedside table before coming back to her reflection. She locked onto her emerald eyes and frowned at herself.
Why was she feeling so odd? It was a feeling that had been growing in her gut the last few months. She felt off-balance, as if the iron will she had assumed and latched on to had begun to crack. She was questioning herself. She was questioning her enemies. She was even starting to question her purpose.
No. She had come to understand her purpose a long time ago. She was a tool. A weapon. The universe had chosen her to carry its destructive power. The raging green fire inside her had no other function, except destruction. And no one could tell her otherwise. Not that infuriating idiot Cutter, not her goody-toe-shoe brothers and certainly not the perfect little princess cheerleader, Kim.
Suddenly, Shego realized that she had melted the hairbrush in her hand without thinking. The rage that had welled up dissipated with a resigned sigh. She dropped the ruined brush into the waste basket next to her.
Yes, her purpose in life was clear.
She set about finishing her hair for the day.
Not too far away inside the same villainous lair, a blue-skinned man with a pony tail woke up in a puddle of his own drool.
"Zzurgh?" The scarred-faced man jerked his head up off his worktable and rubbed his eyes, hair twisted up from sleeping on it sideways. Dr. Drakken realized he had fallen asleep working on the Reverse Engineering Ray, his latest and most nefarious doomsday device. Naturally, he hadn't gotten very far, since he was missing four extremely important pieces. He had spent much of the evening searching the internet for second-hand suppliers to make up for the fact that Shego had failed to steal the pieces in question for him. Already he had a Nuclear Capacitor Switch on overnight delivery from a surplus military supplier. It had been advertised as "refurbished". There were brand new ones for sale, but they cost way too much. Drakken wasn't made of money, after all.
Which is why he was so thrilled when he managed to find a Quantum Matrix Amplifier up for grabs on Ebay. It never occurred to him how odd the coincidence was, since he had sent Shego to steal the only one in existence. But the seller, one "scissorkid33", had a really good feedback rating.
That left the Reversal Drive. He had scoured the internet, or at least as much as his limited web surfing knowledge allowed him to, and had found nothing. Except of course, on the Hench Co Industries website, the very place he had sent Shego to rob from, only to be met with failure.
Drakken grimaced with the thought of what he had to do.
Wandering over to the massive computer screen that dwarfed everything in the cavernous room. He typed a few commands on the large control panel at its base, one of the few commands he knew for certain how to use on the often confusing supercomputer, and brought up a window of static on the screen. After a few moments of ringing, a pleasantly smiling female face appeared.
"Thank you for calling Hench Co Industries, how may I direct your call?"
Drakken immediately drew himself up straight and fixed the secretary with a malevolent snarl. He raised his fist in the air. "I am the Dr Drakken! And I demand to speak with Jack Hench!" He brought his fist down onto the console with a vicious smash. He immediately retracted his hand, wincing in pain.
The secretary, completely unaffected by his tirade, turned and seemed to read something to her right, typing on a keyboard as she did so. "Drakken… Drakken… D… D…. I don't seem to see... ah, yes!" She turned her unchanging smile back on the fuming megalomaniac. "Mr Hench said he would be expecting your call Dr. Lypsky. Please hold while I put you through." The screen suddenly changed to a picture of the Hench Co logo. Alannah Myles' Black Velvet was playing in the background.
Drakken sputtered at the mention of his real name. He took the time to quickly adjust his blue overcoat and tangled head.
The screen changed again, revealing a slick-haired man in an expensive suit. Jack Hench gave Drakken the oily smile of a used car salesman.
"Drew! So good to hear from you. You're looking good. Love what you've done with the hair. The Christopher Lloyd style is a classic."
Caught off guard from the sudden assault, Drakken hardly had time to register his name before his hand went to his hair. He frowned and snapped back to his evil demeanor.
"That's Dr. Drakken!" He snarled. "And I have called you with my demands of your company!"
"Of course," Hench's smile never faltered. He pulled a receipt pad and pen out of his suit pocket. "Down to business then. Shall I have the Reversal Drive packaged up and sent priority?"
"Uhh… yes!" The evil scientist straightened and donned an arrogant smile. "Because I demand it!"
"Right…" Hench finished writing in the pad. "That'll come to 3,050.74, but I think I can offer you a discount on the shipping…"
"Th-three thousand dollars?" Drakken almost fell over. "That's outrageous!"
Jack Hench fixed the blue man with a frown. "Lets not forget that I am ignoring the fact you tried to steal from me, again. Do you want the discount or not?"
"Err… yes." Drakken winced. "Discount, please."
"Good." Hench smiled. "I'll have that on its way before lunch to your Caribbean lair. Will you be paying with credit card or…"
"Put it on my tab."
Hench narrowed his eyes. "Which brings me to other business; you're last month's bill payment…"
"Check's in the mail! Gotta go, busy busy busy!" Drakken quickly hung up on the open mouthed Hench with an exhale. World domination was easy, dealing with economics was hard. He quickly logged onto Ebay and checked on the status of his bid. Three hours to go and he still was highest. Things were looking up for Drakken. All he would need was the final and probably most important piece, and he had spent part of the night making preparations to get it.
Drakken looked at the clock. 9:52 AM. He tapped his fingers on the console nervously. He had been told to wait until after 10. He rubbed his face in frustration. He was the boss, the evil genius. He was not going to be bullied by his own sidekick. Drakken brought his finger forcefully down on the intercom switch.
"Shego!" He snapped into the microphone.
"Yes?"
"BAH!" Drakken jumped three feet into the air to land cowering behind the computer chair. Leaning against the wall near the doorway was a woman in a figure hugging green and black jumpsuit. Her arms were folded under her breasts and she stared at the blue skinned man with an unimpressed look.
"Ah, yes," Drakken quickly stood brushing himself off. "There you are. Good." He smiled and rubbed his hands together maniacally. "It is time to acquire the fourth and final ingredient for my Reverse Engineering Ray! With it in my grasp, I will be finally able to bring my weapon online!"
"Uh huh," Shego raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you missing the other three ingredients, too, last I checked?"
Drakken straightened and snarled at the green-skinned woman. "Yes, no thanks to your failure, I have been forced to actually purchase the parts from other sources." He spoke the work 'purchase' as if it were poisoned. "They will all be in my grasp within the day."
"Wait a minute," Shego narrowed her eyes at the ranting man. "You bought all the parts I couldn't steal? All of them? Including the Quantum Matrix thingy?"
"The Quantum Matrix Amplifier, yes!" He snapped. "I managed to find one for sale on Ebay. In a mere three hours the bidding will close and the Amplifier will be mine!"
"You mean to tell me, you are trying to buy a priceless piece of stolen technology from some computer nerd on an online auction site?"
The mad scientist frowned at her. "He had a very good rating."
Shego moaned and rubbed her face with a gloved hand.
"But enough about that!" Drakken crossed the massive room to stand before his worktable and the weapon he was constructing on it. "All those pieces are useless without the forth and final one. Today…" He closed his tiny hand into a fist. "We will take it from its guarded location. And no one, not even Kim Possible will be able to stop us!"
"Right," Shego rolled her eyes and stood from the wall. "I'll just go get that then. Be back in a few hours."
"Oh no, Shego." Drakken spun back to face his sidekick with a devious smile. "This time, you won't be going alone."
The green thief paused in the doorway. She looked at her employer with a confused frown.
"Say what?"
Somewhere in Middleton, USA, the young Wade Load surfed through terabytes of information with the grace of an Olympic figure skater. This was his domain, where his mastery was unquestioned. Wade had not come across a system he couldn't hack or a firewall he couldn't circumvent. He was an artist, information was his medium.
Which is why, sitting in his room, the artificial light of a dozen flickering monitors bathing his dark skin, the constant hum of several super-processing power plants filling the void in between the flurry of keyboard tapping, he felt a mounting frustration. He had been chasing a near-invisible electronic trail, trying to soak up any information he could about the so-called Chris Cutter who had been assisting Drakken and Shego the last couple days. But he met a dead end every time, as if something where shadowing his search and cutting the information off at its source before he could reach it. No easy feat, even for a master such as Wade.
The young teen was convinced there was a larger force at work, namely WEE. It was the only thing that made sense. Cutter had to be an operative of the Empire, or at least somehow affiliated with them. No one else had the resources to actively erase information about someone to this degree. No one, that is, except Wade himself.
But that still didn't explain how Drakken had gotten WEE backing. But Wade wasn't about to give up. He had begun to notice patterns in the trail, ones that suggested to him that some sort of complex algorithm was working through the network in an endless feedback loop. He suspected that this "AI", for lack of a better term, actively hunted key phrases and word combinations related to the Worldwide Evil Empire. While a simple enough idea in itself, the reality of programming such a complicated algorithm with enough intelligence and flexibility to monitor the entire world without slowing every internet connection on earth was daunting even to the young super genius. He was garnering respect for his WEE adversary.
Undoubtedly, if the cyber ghost, and programmer of the algorithm, was half as intelligent as Wade suspected, he would be invisible to all standard traces. If he was as intelligent as Wade suspected, he would be invisible to all nonstandard traces as well. Much like Wade himself.
But Wade had built his first supercomputer at the age of five. The government had confiscated it of course and last time he checked, it was being used to control missile defense across North America. That was fine by him. He had made several others since. Each one ten times more powerful then the last.
The child genius leaned back in his comfortable chair. He cracked his fingers and leaned forward again with a smile on his face.
Let the games begin.
With smooth, precise movements, Kim Possible completed her final Tai Chi form. She stood motionless, one foot in front of the other, arms extended before her. Then, after a moment, she flipped herself over backwards to land one-footed, balancing on her bed post. She didn't stay there very long, as the loose material of her purple pajama bottoms caused her to slip. She hopped down to the floor gracefully and pulled her pants back up around her hips, tightening the cord to keep them there. She was glad no one was around to see the famous Kim Possible loose her pants over a simple back flip. Immediately she thought of Ron and laughed out loud.
Grabbing a towel out of her closet, she left the confines of her room and headed for the bathroom. Unsurprisingly, she found the door locked.
"Tweebs!" She pounded on the door. "You had better get out of there in three seconds or less, or so help me…"
"Busy!" Came the unanimous reply. "Come back in twenty minutes!"
"Mom!" Kim called down the hallway. "It's my turn in the bathroom!"
"Boys, let your sister in to shower." The always friendly voice of Mrs. Possible carried up the stairs. "If you want to continue your sea monkey experiments, do it in the back yard."
A collective groan issued from behind the closed door. Kim crossed her arms and fixed her younger twin brothers, Jim and Tim, with a cold stare as they came moping out of the bathroom. Between them they carried a small fish bowl. Inside it was a shrimp-like creature the size of a fist.
"Eww..." The young woman's face twisted into a grimace and she recoiled from the passing twins. "What the heck is that?"
"Sea Monkey." Jim said.
"We accelerated his growth using household chemicals." Tim said. They both smiled at their revolted sister.
"Ugh," she retreated into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She spent a moment shaking off the willies before she could bring herself to even brush her teeth. Immediately following that, she stepped out of her purple bottoms, pulled the matching top over her head and hopped into the shower, trying not to think about what had just been in there.
Instead, as the steaming water cascaded over her body, she thought about Ron. Her best friend since…well, forever. And now, he was her boyfriend. Well, that wasn't news in itself. They had officially been dating for a number of months now. The shock had kind of worn off by this point, for them and for the entire school body. She still remembered the first few weeks; the girls whispering and gasping as they walked down the hallway together, the boys shaking there heads and outright gaping in disbelief. By Bonnie Rockwaller's reasoning, Kim had broken every social code in the book by going out with the bumbling Ron Stoppable.
But why did Kim decide to go out with him? She paused in the act of lathering her red hair. He was, by no means, the kind of guy she was typically attracted to. She thought of Josh Mankey, the popular and artistic dreamboat she had drooled over for the longest time. But then, suddenly, she didn't see him in that light anymore. While a nice guy, and painfully cute, she felt like he was too… aloof. Like he was afraid to just relax and have fun, in case it wasn't "cool". Not like Ron at all, who was almost excruciatingly uncool at times. But he was always himself. In that regard, he was the most fearless person she knew.
She let the hot stream rinse through her hair. She knew he adored her. And they had been best friends for so long, that it almost seemed strange that she hadn't thought about them as anything more then just pals before. Which is what worried her the most. Was she going out with Ron because it just seemed like the next step? Was she doing it because he was her best friend and she knew that he wanted to?
Did she love him?
Kim stood there, naked in the shower, and hated herself for thinking these things. Of course she loved him. She had known him since pre-k. She couldn't imagine life without Ron Stoppable. But… what kind of love was it? Was it romantic? Was she attracted to Ron?
Sure, he had his cute boyish charm and he was quick to smile, not to mention he had a great sense of humor. Plus he was a really good kisser.
Kim blushed at the thought. Her awareness of her nudity suddenly became apparent.
But Ron was also immature. There were times when she grew so very aggravated at his juvenile antics and just wished he would grow up. Of course, that made her feel like the worst person on earth. Ron was the way he was, and that is why she loved him as a friend. But did it keep her from loving him as something else?
She ran body wash over her toned, athletic frame. She was in peak physical condition, stronger then many men her age. It came from hard work and healthy living. Something Ron never really did. Eating at Bueno Nacho almost everyday didn't exactly give him the sexy body of a Josh Mankey.
"Jerk, you're such a jerk…" Kim cursed herself for being so shallow. Picking apart Ron like this made her feel awful. But she couldn't help it. She needed to find a reason why she was going out with him. Her feelings were so confused. Even after months of dating the young man, holding hands when they walked, cuddling when they watched movies and kissing each other goodnight… it still felt the same as when they were just friends. Where was the spark, the fire?
Kim turned off the valve with a sigh. She exited the shower and wrapped her body and hair in her towels and grabbed her discarded clothing. In the end, she just needed a sign that this was the right thing. That she wasn't lying to herself and to Ron. He deserved much more then that.
Back in her room, she went through the motions of drying and styling her hair, picking an outfit and dressing. She felt hollow as she did so, like she was going to a funeral. It didn't help that she was going to go meet Ron at Bueno Nacho, again (after he finished watching his precious cartoons). She knew that it was his favorite place, but she grew sick of it after a while.
Ending up in khaki shorts and a blue tank top, Kim exited her room and headed down the stairs. She entered the kitchen, planning on getting an apple to munch on the way.
"Hey mom, hey dad." She barely acknowledged her parents, seated at the table as she headed for the fridge. "I'm going to go meet Ron at Bueno, I'll probably…"
"Nah-uh," came a reply that cut her off. "You'll be doing nothing of the kind."
Kim paused and looked at the table in surprise, just then noticing the third person seated at it. Ron Stoppable beamed back at her. Her father, his newspaper folded over, smiled in tangent with her mother at the confused teen.
"Ron?" Kim's eyebrows cocked. "I thought we were going to meet at…"
"Change of plans, KP." He reached down beside him to grab a large wicker basket and stood from the table, while her parents shared a knowing smile. "We are going on a picnic. Just you and me."
Kim stood, staggered. He made a picnic.
"Oh, Kimmie," her mother piped up, "I hope you don't mind. Ronald brought you these, so I put them in water for you." She motioned to a bouquet of lilacs, sitting in a vase on the kitchen counter.
Ron shrugged sheepishly. "I just… you know, felt like giving you flowers. It seemed like the thing to do. No big, right?"
Kim knew that he must have given up his morning for this, cartoons and all. She looked at him, seeing the plain adoration in his soft brown eyes. At that moment, she felt like the most important thing in the world. He frowned, uncertainly.
"Hey… you ok, Kim?"
Kim smiled at his adorable face and bit her lip to keep from crying.
"I'm perfect, Ron. Just perfect."
Not too many miles south of Middleton was the town of Lowerton, USA. It lacked any truly great landmarks, famous residents or historical significance, particularly when compared to its northern brothers. It did not have the extensive cultural amenities of Middleton, such as the Middleton Museum, the Middleton Space Center, or the Middleton Institute of Technology. Likewise did it lack the predominately more wealthy inhabitants of Upperton and the widespread monuments, landmarks and gorgeous rolling parkland that came with them.
Lowerton was primarily home to working class folk, and sported a larger industrial backbone then both Middleton and Upperton combined. And despite an often fierce competition between the Lowerton Lemurs and the Middleton Mad Dogs, the people of Lowerton were generally considered to be some of the friendliest, most down-to-earth people in the state.
Because of their focus on industry, Lowerton did boast one of the biggest manufacturing bodies in the area, along with all the related commerce. Planet Tool, considered the largest and most extensive hardware and tool store on the planet, called Lowerton its home along with a few other super specialty stores that couldn't be found anywhere else in the country. Gearheads and enthusiasts often came for miles to take advantage of their wares.
Outside one such specialty store, hidden behind a small dumpster, sat a black motorcycle. It was an aggressive-looking sport bike, painted in unmarked black except for the exposed silver and chrome engine and exhaust pieces. It was a heavily modified Kawasaki Ninja, so much so that its lines were almost unrecognizable except to the more knowledgeable of bike enthusiasts. And even then, they would immediately recognize the large sums of money that had been sunk into the machine to transform it into something unique.
Leaning against the bike was a figure dressed in a black two-piece biker suit. His leather pants had a reflective silver line, running down the side of the leg to his black boots. His matching leather jacket had geometric patterns of the same reflective silver material sown in various strategic locations; his shoulders, forearms, chest and back, to increase rider visibility. He wore black riding gloves, which he even then was in the process of removing. On his head, sat a matte black, full faced helmet with a reflective mirror shield pulled down over his eyes.
The biker stared in the direction of the store as his gloves were pulled off, one at a time. He had just arrived at this spot for the fifth time this morning. He had been watching and waiting, leaving to circle the block a few times, finding a wireless hotspot to check his online auction, before coming back to sit. He had been driving most of the evening, stopping only once to shower and change at a cheap hotel room before coming straight here. The biker hadn't slept. He didn't sleep often.
It had been a long wait, and not for the first time the biker questioned if he was even in the right spot. He no longer had his piece of paper and thus was relying on memory of what it had said. He was almost 75 positive that this was where he was supposed to be.
Hidden behind the mirror, the biker chewed his lip. He still wasn't sure if this was a good idea or not. Truth be told, he was sort of winging it at this point. Not for the first time, he wished that he had more experience in this field. Hell, any experience would do. All he could do was observe how others handled it and try to emulate them. So far it had been an incredible failure, but he blamed that on his own cowardice and foolishness.
But was he foolish for even undertaking the challenge in the first place?
Another fifteen minutes passed and no answers presented themselves.
The biker growled at himself. He had waited all morning like an idiot for something that probably wouldn't happen, in more ways then one. He stood and straddled his bike intending to leave for the last time.
Then it happened.
The biker's helmeted head swung to look at the store as the one he had been waiting for finally arrived. He stared in mute surprise at what he saw.
This was most definitely not good.
They strolled through the beautiful parkland, hand in hand. There were others out and about; children, parents, walkers and joggers, but they could have been a hundred miles away for all Kim cared.
Ron carried the big basket in his other hand. He had insisted on it, even though Kim was the stronger of the two. In fact, he had tried to carry everything at first, trying to be the gentleman, even if it made him look goofy. In addition to the basket, there had also been a blanket, two chairs, a tiny fold-up card table, a pair of candle sticks and a battery-operated boombox with a burnt CD of romantic music. Kim had convinced him that all they needed was the blanket. She had even managed to get him to let her carry it.
As they casually wandered through the park, searching for an isolated spot for their picnic, Kim couldn't stop herself from looking at Ron. Whenever he caught her gaze she would blush furiously and smile like an idiot. What was with her? Not an hour ago she was deciding whether or not to break up with Ron, and now, the very sensation of her hand in his was giving her butterflies. What had changed?
"Oh look, Kim!" Ron released her hand to point, which left her surprisingly sad with the loss. "The perfect spot!"
Sure enough, it was the perfect spot. A tall oak tree stood over a small grassy hill. Its strong branches reached up and over to create a natural shaded shelter in which to sit, looking out over the whole park. Kim suddenly felt giddy at it all and grabbed Ron's hand, leading him running and laughing all the way up the hill. Both teens were panting slightly when they reached the top. Kim dropped the blanket she had in her hand and fell onto the grass with a sigh.
"Aw, Kim," Ron scolded her lightheartedly. "What's the point of bringing the blanket if you just roll around in the grass, and get all…. grassy."
She rolled over and watched him unfold the blanket, taking care to place it just right to take full advantage of the shade and the view. She giggled at him. He was trying so hard. He was so adorable.
"Alright, gigglepuss," he smiled at her as he sat down with the basket. "Get your butt on the blanket so we can eat."
Kim was more then happy to hop over to sit close to him. For some reason their nearness felt more exciting then ever before. She looked into his brown eyes and saw him swallow. He felt it too.
"Uh… sh-shall we get started, then?" Ron tried to turn his attention to the basket, which he opened with a flourish. "Allow me to blow you away with the finest cuisine Chief Ronald has to offer." With the comical grace of a snobbish French waiter, he pulled the various items from the wicker basket and presented them before Kim before placing them on the blanket. "First off, we have a bottle of sparkling white cranberry and peach juice, mixed with just a hint of gingered ale to give it the fake texture of fine champagne."
Kim laughed at that. She wondered if Ron even knew what real champagne tasted like. It wouldn't have surprised her if he did.
"Next, we have a finely diced fruit salad, a mixture of apples, strawberries, grapes, bananas, kiwi fruit and apricots. Perfect for desert or as a side dish."
Kim eyed the tupperware container with interest. She definitely wouldn't be waiting until desert to eat that.
"Ah, yes. And here we have a fine French loaf, cut into several slices for three or even four separate sandwiches, if one were so inclined."
Ron set the wrapped half-baguette next to the basket and reached in again.
"And, of course, one cannot make a sandwich without the proper ingredients. We have the gourmet cheeses, fine bologna, fresh tomatoes, lettuce, pickles, let's see…" he rifled through the basket. "I also brought some alfalfa sprouts, my dad likes to put them on sandwiches, they're pretty good, actually. Oh, and some turkey breast. Hm… ah, right. I got some standard condiments, mustard, relish, mayonnaise. Uh, I wasn't sure if you preferred the regular or low fat type, so I brought both. Oh, I snagged some Diablo sauce, you know… in case you want to spice things up. And check this out… wetnaps! Booyah!"
Kim sat mute. A simple enough spread, but she could tell he had put a lot of thought and spent a lot of time on it, and that made it the greatest meal she could have ever had asked for.
"This is really wonderful, Ron." She snuggled in closer to him. "I can't tell you how great this all is."
"Yeah well," Ron shrugged, "Rufus helped a lot. The little guy knows how to cut him some fruit."
"Where is Rufus? You didn't bring him?"
Ron smiled. "Nah, the little guy is babysitting Hana. I told you, KP, it's just you and me. So… should we dig in or…?"
Kim kissed him, cutting him off mid speech. The breeze rustled through the trees and the birds sung. Far off, the laughter of children could be heard. But all Kim noticed was the feel of Ron's lips against hers.
They pulled apart with a mutual gasp. Kim felt Ron shudder. She knew that her face had to be as red as his was.
"Kim, I…" They stared into each other's eyes. This is what had been missing. The spark. The heat. They had always hung out together as best buds and had gone on official "dates" many times in the past months. But never before had it been so romantic, so perfect. Ron never did things like this with Kim, at least not without her prodding him before hand. It seemed so out of character and yet, so perfectly "Ron". It was like he had taken that small step towards her, the one that had kept them plutonic, even as boyfriend and girlfriend. With one amazing sign of sincere courtship, he had broken the stalemate of friendship and brought them into new territory.
The silence stretched and awkwardness set in. They both felt the change and now, suddenly, everything was weird.
"Um… sandwich?" Kim suggested.
"Sandwich." Ron agreed, with a bashful smile. Kim couldn't believe how adorable he was. Why did she suddenly notice it now?
They both reached for the bread at the same time. Their hands touched.
They retracted them immediately, avoiding each others eyes. Kim started to wonder if they were really better off now. Would they ever feel comfortable together ever again?
"Ron…" She finally met his gaze. "If this is too…"
The chime of the Kimmunicator was the last thing she had wanted to hear at that moment. She brought her wrist to her face angrily.
"What, Wade?"
The young man leaned back slightly, his eyes wide. "Is this a bad time?"
Kim rubbed her face and silently chastised herself for snapping at the well-meaning friend. "No, sorry Wade. What's up?"
"Just thought you should know, while I was doing more WEE research, I got a hit about a robbery taking place in Lowerton, right now."
"Alright." Kim frowned at the wonderful picnic Ron had made for her. She looked at Ron, who smiled sadly. He knew what was coming. "Can't the police handle it?"
The young freckled face on the tiny screen winced.
"No… they can't."
She calmly walked through the front doors without pretense. A place like this simply wasn't prepared for anyone like her. She got a couple odd looks, more then one of them lingering on her behind. A vicious stare sent their heads spinning away, trying to pretend they hadn't been ogling her.
The building was quite large. The largest of its kind, in fact. She couldn't tell if that was impressive or just plain pathetic. Rows upon rows of shelves stretched out in either direction. On them, sat every type of fastener known to man.
She continued straight until she came upon the first pimple-faced teenager in a green vest. He was climbing down a ladder, leaned up against one of the many tall shelves. Upon noticing her, he practically fell off. A yellow nametag on his vest read "Charlie".
"Hey, Chuck." She smiled icily at the hormone-driven fool. "I was wondering if you could help me find something?"
Charlie looked her up and down with his jaw agape. She let it slide on account that he was at that age where he could probably get aroused just by watching the powerpuff girls.
"Wha-ma-wa-welcome to the Bolt Bin, the worlds largest fastener specialty store, h-how can I help?" The teen licked his dry lips as he stuttered through his standard greeting.
"Yeah, I'm looking for a silver-plated, three-quarter inch, metric machine bolt." She sighed in embarrassment at having been forced to waste her substantial talents on such a pathetic item as a bolt. She silently cursed her employer. "Have any?"
"Um… three-quarter? Silver-plated?" The teen rubbed his sparsely populated chin as though it were a lumberjack beard, his flirtations were laughable. "We may have a couple in the back. I'll have to get my manager to…"
"No, don't bother." Shego snapped her fingers.
An army of red-suited henchmen swarmed the building, coming in through every entrance. As well, twenty odd robotic figures, known as Syntho Drones, came crashing in the windows and jumping down from newly-blasted holes in the ceiling. Shego smiled despite herself at the ridiculous overkill.
"We'll just get it ourselves."
To Be Continued… as usual. The next one is going to be NUTS, if all goes according to plan. Lines will be drawn! Secrets will be revealed! Emotions will be laid bare! Obvious plot twists will be made even more obvious! It will be the end of the first arc in the Secret Shame Saga! And I promise action.
Glorious, glorious action.