Kim Possible: The Darkness Without: redux Chapter 9, a kim possible fanfic

Kim Possible: The Darkness Without

Redux

Pt 9

By Eoraptor

Now, on with the Story...

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Ron Stoppable stared into the mirror. Blue eyes stared back at him. They were worried eyes. Eyes worried about something as simple as coffee.

He splashed the water from the basin on his face, and then began working the lather across his cheeks and jaw. As he drew the razor along his cheek, so close to the mirror, he couldn't help but notice the faint pock-marks. Every rectangular streak of shaving foam removed revealed a few.

The small marks were faint, but they were there. Reminders of an October night in Chicago. That night he'd been forty-five feet from an exploding Trans-particle Vortex Recombinator; not that he knew that was what it was called. All Ron new was that shrapnel from it had scarred his face and hands, and had also cut out a part of his heart.

As he shaved away a few more whiskers, Ron studied his face, wondering if anyone would ever want to hold it the way the woman he lost that night once had. Kim had enjoyed caressing his cheeks and kissing his forehead, he thought as he sighed to himself and rinsed his blade again.

'well, maybe someone?' the thought came unbidden to Ron's mind as he placed the blade along one side of his chin, carefully cutting around one area. He shook his head, he was feeling very… …conflicted lately.

"diabolical" came a chipper little voice from his left shoulder. It broke his revelry for a moment, and he frowned at the mole-rat playing conscious.

"Hey, we've talked about this buddy… it does not make me look diabolical. It makes me look mature." He smirked and leaned forward to rinse his face. Rufus scrambled clumsily around to keep from falling in to the basin of swirling warm water and shave-scum.

"Now knock of the diabolical stuff or I'll shave your whiskers." Ron grinned and eyed Rufus's reflection, stroking his own renewed goatee.

"hu-uh hu-uh!" the molerat chirped rapidly, burying his face under his arm and shivering. The move made Ron notice the molerat's left arm, the mostly-limp one, and he sighed faintly. Rufus seemed to be able to move it a bit better now, but Ron doubted he'd ever scurry quite as quickly as he once did.

"Okay buddy… I think you better sit this one out… Besides, the JavaLux doesn't allow pets." Rufus made a sour face, considering himself anything and everything but a pet.

"Yeah, sorry buddy, I know it's not bueno, but them's the breaks." He carefully set his little companion down on the back of the chair as he walked into the living room of his small apartment. Rufus continued to grumble and chatter, and stepped on the remote, turning on the Animal Planet.

"most extreme!" he chirred when he saw what was on, feeling a little less irritated if he could at least watch his favorite show.

A few minutes later Ron was in downtown Middleton, eyeing the JavaLux reluctantly. He stared at the glass door, not entering yet. He'd gone over what had happened three weeks ago in Chicago over and over again. He'd been to Kim's memorial ceremony. He and Monique had gone out to a music club to commiserate.

He'd had a beer. He'd danced a bit with Monique. He had another beer. He danced with Monique again. He'd seen someone he thought he recognized while going to get a third beer for he and Monique. They drank, danced again…

Then he'd woken up, half dressed, next to a similarly garbed Monique. What in the name of all that's Diablo had happened in between?! Ron rubbed the bridge of his nose and grumbled a bit to himself.

The lesser questions about what he had heard while hiding in the bathroom were there too, but they kind of paled compared to whether or not he had slept with Kim's other best friend on the night of her memorial service and dedication of a plaque in her honor.

"Oh well, standing around out here isn't going to answer anything, is it?" He walked up to the JavaLux doors and they slid aside for him. He looked around, and spied Monique finally. She was wearing a stylish pink cashmere sweater against the late-autumn chill of northern California.

Ron waved, a little meekly. Monique did the same, cuffing one hand inside the wrist of her sweater. He made his way to the little booth she was in, sliding in across from her. He didn't meet her eyes, instead choosing to focus on the specials of the day, including Thanksgiving Pumpkin-pie Spiced Chai. Sounded good he thought, trying to distract himself.

"Hey Ron."

"Hey"

"Your ready to order? My treat, remember?"

"Sure... this chai stuff looks good."

They were silent for a few minutes. Their drinks arrived, and each stared into their own for a few minutes.

"You know…" Monique began after another few minutes, caramel eyes looking up from her coffee, "I don't really remember what happened in Chicago."

Ron rubbed the back of his neck, looking up from his own cooling drink and chuckling nervously. "Hehehe, neither do I actually."

"Oh thank god... I was starting to feel like a total O.N.S.B. if it was just me." She sighed as if someone had just lifted a lead weight from her shoulders. She saw the confused look in Ron's eyes and smirked.

"Oh come on Stoppable… One Night Stand Bitch. You've hung with me long enough to know that one." She smirked more and swatted him lightly across the shoulder.

"Hehe hehe, yeah, I guess so Monique." He sighed as well, but she could tell his blue eyes still held some guilt. She was sure her own eyes probably did as well, despite the confession.

"Okay Monique… So we don't remember… doesn't mean something didn't happen." He finally spoke up, voicing what they were both thinking and trying to overcome shy reluctance.

"Yeah… sure doesn't." She sighed again, looking glumly at her coffee, finally taking a sip after a moment. It wasn't as though she didn't trust Ron and want to believe he would have been a total gentleman, but there was still a voice at the back of her head saying gentlemen didn't wake up in bed next to you with their pants across the room.

"Okay… So what do you remember? Maybe if we both…" He wasn't sure what to say on the subject, and it sounded like a stupid idea as soon as it started to come out of his mouth.

"I remember drinking a few beers, and dancing with you. Boy, you got about the worst case of whiteboy-rythmitis I ever saw." She chuckled a bit, chiding him, remembering him trying to keep up with the beat of the throbbing pulse of Chicago blues and light rock that had been playing. "What happened to all that world saving monkey mojo?"

"Yeah I know… KP used to tell me I needed lessons all the time." He smiled a bit as well, sipping his drink also.

"Knew I liked that girl for some reason." Monique laughed a bit, sipping her drink again. She pursed her lips, and let the speaking of Kim's name pass, as so often happened when she and Ron or she and the boys talked these days.

"Okay," Ron picked up the thread of conversation after a moment, "I remember getting up to get us some more drinks. When I came back there was a woman sitting next to you… she looked familiar…"

Monique frowned a bit, concentrating at the last of the night that either of them seemed to remember clearly. "Yeah, I remember too… She was… She was taking the drinks from you, and put them on the bar in front of us. She was one slick operator, boots, leather coat, bedroom eyes. I was sure she was trying to pick you up. Then I thought it was way harsh the way she called you… doofus?"

Ron's frown of consternation matched Monique's as he worked to remember. The woman had called him a doofus, yeah. And she spilled part of his drink. Or had she…? "Yeah… she made a mess all over the bar when she swung the beer at me. And she had on this…"

"Stylin' green coat…" Monique continued, filling in more, "And long black boots… Ron, did she put something in our beer?"

"Maybe… Wait… she called me 'doofus'." Ron was still stuck on something.

"Shit!" Came the cry from someone standing at the register who'd just managed to spill hot coffee right on his leather pants.

"Sheesh! The language of some people!" Ron scoffed. Then he stopped, because Monique's chocolate eyes went wide as she sounded out the words across the table from him.

"Shit… Sheesh… Shi… She…"

"Shego!" They both nearly screamed the name in unison as recognition and memory struck home. Everyone in the coffee house turned to face them, except for the tall man rapidly fanning hot coffee from his crotch.

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-One Month Later; Seniors' Island, The Mediterranean-

She eyed the package before her wearily. It was moving; she was certain of it. She could swear she heard it mewl at her.

"Shego, my dear… Please don't stare at the tree… I'm afraid you plasma might ignite it. It was quite dry by the time the men delivered it to the dock yesterday you know…" The elderly Latin man chuckled softly, white brows rising warmly beneath his luxuriously trimmed Santa hat.

She sat back petulantly, still eyeing the intricately wrapped package with her name on it. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed, turning to look at her host.

"Oh dear… Such a pout I have not seen since the days our little redheaded friend hosted Christmas parties in California…" He chuckled again, his eyes seeming to drift from the moment slightly. "She would pout in almost that exact manner when Mrs. Possible made her wait to eat the still-cooling gingerbread men the year that she invited Junior and I and your Drakken to a truce…"

Shego tried to look fiercely irritated at the comparison, but it wasn't in her. Her pout faded into a grin and she chuckled a bit too. She stood up and went over to Senor Senior Senior, patting him on a stooped shoulder, and looked back at the tree. "Oh please… No one cold pout like Kimmie."

"Thanks for having me Gramps… I hate this laying low shi-," She paused, catching herself in the curse. "This laying low stuff…"

He eyed her with watery blue eyes for a moment, and smiled, to let her know the slip was forgiven. "Of course my dear… With Junior off in Aspen with that singing woman of his, it's wonderful to have some company on the island."

"That boy…" She growled just a bit, clenching her fist, "Leaving his father all alone on Christmas! I thought I taught him better than that!"

"I'm afraid Junior has forgotten most of the lessons you taught him my dear. He has all but given up on our quest to rule the world." The old man's rich accent did not hide his sorrow at the widening of the gulf between the two of them. "This Honey person, however, seems to believe he will be the next great thing."

"Yeah… Probably better for him that way. World-domination just ain't what it used to be with..." She had to bite back some bile to even get the name out, "Global Justice Enforcement."

"Ah yes… ever since that young Mister Du took over, things have just not been the same… At least Betty Director played by the old rules, no?" The aging Mediterranean lamented, "Shego, I am more than happy to help you reek whatever personal vengeance it is you have in store for them since you came to me... even if you have not told me why. It is an excellent stance of evil tradition after all. But come… it is Christmas morning, let us open gifts."

Shego's scowl became a child-like grin again. There were only two presents under the tree, one from each to the other. On the Senior's Island, gifts were few, but pricey. She handed her gift for him to Senior Senior and grinned eagerly.

Steady, time-worn hands carefully undid the red and green paper and intricate bow, lifting a small wooden box free after a moment.

"Oh my goodness… It is truly lovely! How did you know I had wanted one of these?" The old man held up the gold pocket watch and pressed the bezel, causing a laser to shoot out and scorch a near-by tile.

"A girl has her ways of knowing, Gramps." He chuckled at the nickname that playfully was applied to him.

"Please, open yours… I'm worried it- he will make a mess…" Shego's raven brow arched at that hint, and she whirled, gleefully picking up the package.

She thought better of shaking it, since it really did move in her hands. She carefully unwrapped the green shimmering paper, and squealed when a pair of slitted blue eyes blinked out at her.

"mew."

A warm smile spread across the old man's face, removing years from the leathery wrinkles and uplifting his eyes. "His name is Othello… He's a black leopard cub. But you probably knew that already."

Shego reached in and tugged out the little kitten. He was only slightly larger than a housecat kitten, and so incredibly soft. She clutched him carefully to her chest with one arm, and tightly hugged Senior Senior with the other.

"Oh, he's perfect! How did you?"

"…an old man has his ways too you know, my dear." He smiled warmly, patting her shoulder as he went to sit down. "You've seemed so lonely these past few weeks. I though a companion closer to your own age might cheer you up."

She smirked and stuck her pink tongue out at him. He knew damned well she was turning thirty-two in a few weeks, even if she acted half that or less some times. If anything, the three of them were about equidistant in age. Still, she appreciated it; she had been lonely. She would never admit it to anyone, least of all herself, though.

She and Senior spent the next few hours discussing Christmas, villainy, and various other things, and watching Othello fumble around in the wrapping paper in his kittenish way.

"So my dear, shall we adjourn to dinner? I'm afraid I could not get a goose this far south… but I think you'll find the sea bass…"

The discussion was rudely interrupted by alarms screaming for attention and steel shutters dropping in to place over the windows.

'What the hell?" Shego growled and ran to the monitor to find out who had interrupted their holiday.

She blinked at what she saw in a rather stupid manner. Señor Senior Senior hobbled over to her and looked at the screen. He didn't blink, but he may as well have. "My dear… How can you be robbing me, and standing next to me at the same time?"

They watched as someone clad in green and black threw a bolt of roiling green plasma against the lock to the lower hangar bay. The figure, moving fully on to the tarmac and into the view of the camera then, shocked them both. If it was Shego, it was a Shego straight out of the Book of Revelation.

"Damned if I know… but I intend to find out."

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Author's notes additional: Didn't see that coming did you? Or maybe you did… if you've seen the art "Darkness Within" is based on… So, for this redux chapter, no new scenes, but I think I seriously managed to smooth out the awkwardness of the first section, and flesh out the second with info that will be important in the sequel "God Save the Tweebs".

Bonus Points and a cookie to anyone who got the "JavaLux" and "spilled coffee" reference.