Authors Note: A big thank you again to everyone who cares about this story. And thanks to Brandon for beta reading. Your commentary is hilarious as always.
Disclaimer: I don't own Kim Possible.
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"A family without a black sheep is not a typical family."
~Heinrich Böll
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Grandfather.
How he hated being called that word.
It was so cold and indifferent. It was impersonal; something that he felt a family member shouldn't call him. Grandpa, gramps, anything would be better than grandfather. Grandparents were supposed to spoil their grandkids. At least that was the way Senior understood it. The parents were there to raise and discipline their children, while they were there to sneak them candy and all kinds of treats. But things had not turned out that way for their family.
He figured she had used the word on purpose. She did after all say that she hated him. Since she had first told him that the day he and his son had been kidnapped by Dr. Drakken, he had wondered why she would say such a thing. How could she hate a man she had never even met? Sure, he was a super villain. He may have done tremendous damage to the Billionaire's Club. But did even that warrant hatred from his own granddaughter?
Camille's mother, Gale Leon, had not always carried that surname. She had been born Gale Senior several decades ago. In time she had grown up and found what at the time she believed to be true love. She had married into the wealthy Leon family. After all, a man had to be worthy of marrying someone as rich as the daughter of Senor Senior Sr. While not nearly as well off as Senior, Mr. Leon was found to be a suitable husband for her. Those were much happier times.
Eventually Senor Senior Sr. was divorced. For many years he lived alone until one day he grew tired of it. He was rich after all, he deserved to enjoy the benefits that came with it. He had found a very attractive, young woman. She wasn't the brightest woman around, and he was fairly certain that large areas of her were "fake", but he didn't care. She made him happy. He had been in his late forties at the time, while she was in her mid twenties. She bore him a son, whom he named after himself. It didn't take long after his birth for her to run off with a large sum of money awarded to her by the courts. The gold digger had struck the jackpot.
A few years later he learned that his daughter had given birth. But he was a busy man at the time and could not be bothered to leave his island to visit them. He was charged with raising Junior himself. It was an arduous task. Living alone on his private island with a baby to take care of, he never had time to see his much older daughter as Camille grew older. He had never even seen his granddaughter in person until a few days ago. He knew of her existence when she had been born and had sent a large sum of money to her in a trust fund. By the time he had reached the age to retire and had time to visit his family, he had grown ashamed of his neglect. He knew his daughter resented him because of it. He could not bring himself to face them. He was content to ignore the issue, as to not bring pain to not only himself, but to them as well.
More recently he had seen many of Camille's exploits on TV. He felt a different shame to know that one of his own family members had grown up to be like that. But was that really her? Part of him doubted that how she acted on TV was genuine. Her insidious plots to frame him and then capture him only supported his theory. It was… pure evil.
"Camille, why are you in that cell?" Senior asked. "I thought you were working with Dr. Drakken and Shego."
She turned away from him before she spoke. She didn't want to bring herself to look into those eyes as she explained her defeat.
"Yeah? Well things are different now. I had my own plan in mind. And thanks to Ron it failed."
Senior looked past her at the unconscious body of Ron in the third jail cell. His attention was soon returned to his granddaughter.
"I see. What did you plan on doing?"
"Like it matters now. It's all ruined. Just like everything else in my life."
"What? Why would you say such a thing?"
She shot a venomous look at him.
"You know how messed up my family is. Oh right, you don't. You never bothered to care about anything else once your son was born," she said spitefully.
"You must understand-"
"Understand what? How he was more important than the rest of your family?"
"Of course not. If you would just let me explain myself I think you could understand."
She let out a sarcastic laugh.
"Sure, go ahead. Explain, grandfather."
There was that word again. Her tone changed when she said it. He was sure she was using it to try to hurt him.
"As Junior was growing up, I realized that he… how can I put this… needed a bit of extra assistance. His mother was not there to care for him. I was alone in that endeavor."
"Yeah, and my dad was never around either. I was stuck with my mom who decided that every day was a good day to get wasted and screw the newest pool boy. Your daughter. How does that make you feel?"
Those words stung. Hearing about his own daughter sinking to that level sent pain shooting through his heart like few other things could. He knew that he hadn't been a perfect father once she had gotten married. And he knew that he had not been a perfect grandparent. But he had done his best to raise his son.
"You misunderstand me, Camille. I did not tell you that to take blame off of myself. I said it because Junior… well, Junior was not always the most capable of children. He lacked certain things, and was therefore in need of my assistance much more than most children."
"What? Are you saying that he's stupid or something?"
Senior's expression turned dark. It was a rare sight for anyone to see.
"Dot not ever speak of family like that again," he snapped. "You have no reason to harbor a grudge against him. He has done nothing to harm you."
"Whatever," she said nonchalantly.
"As I was saying," he continued. "Junior needed my help as he grew older. And he still does. The boy is lazy, he is unfocused. I have done everything in my power to try to help him, I even hired Shego to tutor him not too long ago. But he is content to simply lie around all day under a tanning lamp reading the latest teen gossip magazines."
Camille didn't know much about her uncle. It seemed hard to believe that Junior, a man in his early twenties, could be her uncle. But like she had said, her family was messed up.
"So that means you could just forget about us?"
"Forget about you? Of course not. When you were born I gave you a very large sum of money in a trust fund. In fact I stored it at the…"
Senior stopped speaking before he could say the words "Billionaire's Club". He knew that it was another sensitive subject with her. It was what she had yelled at him about the day he was captured.
"And now it's gone," she smiled at the irony. "How does it feel to ruin your daughter's life?"
He chose not to answer the question. It was another reason she hated him. His attack had caused great damage to the Leon family fortune.
They didn't know where to go from there. The intensity of their argument cooled down a bit once everything was out in the open, once the Billionaire's Club was brought up. For a few seconds there was an uncomfortable silence. Senior decided to break it.
"When was the last time you dyed your hair?" he wondered.
Camille unconsciously brought her finger tips to the top of her head.
"I don't know. Why?"
"I can see the black roots beginning to show. It is obvious to me that blonde is not your natural color."
It was the truth. Her bleached blonde hair was another part of her act. The stereotype was that blondes were stupid. So while she acted like a fool on national television and in the tabloids she made sure to make it even more believable.
Senor Senior Sr.'s ethnicity was Spanish. It was obvious in not only his name, but his accent and darker skin as well. The Leon family had also come from Spain long ago. Though they had lived in America for many generations they could still trace their roots back to the province of Leon, Spain. Black hair was a part of Camille's family as was her darker skin.
Most girls were envious of her perfect tan. What they didn't know was that it didn't take much to achieve her beauty. Her heritage ensured that her skin was naturally a bit darker than most people suspected it would be. The blonde hair only made it seem more like she had worked hard to obtain her tan. Of course she would never tell people this. She enjoyed making the other girls jealous of her.
"I've been busy lately," she said as an excuse.
"I hate to see you dye your hair like this. You cannot hide who you are, neither with your hair nor your… faces," he said uncomfortably.
Who was she? It was a question that had been plaguing her for years now. She figured it wouldn't hurt to ask him.
"You think you have me figured out? Then who am I?"
He offered her a genuine smile.
"Though I may not have witnessed you grow up, I have seen more in you these past few days than I ever could have imagined. What you did to me, to Junior, to everyone in this scheme of yours, was simply evil."
Evil? It was not the answer she had been expecting. Nor was it one that she liked to hear.
"I'm not evil. I'm not doing any of this out of enjoyment. Well, except for letting you rot in this cell ever since we blew up your mansion."
That was still a sore subject for him. But it only served to underline his point.
"Indeed. Revenge is a very sinister act to commit. Would you not agree?"
Camille didn't know why he kept insisting that she was evil. But she decided that he at least had a point. Her quest for vengeance probably could be seen as malevolent.
"What's your point?"
"My point is that I need an heir for my evil empire."
Again, a response she never would have imagined him saying. And again it perked her interest.
"What are you talking about?"
"I love my son dearly, but I know in my heart that he is not true super villain material. It is not the path he wishes to take, and as a loving father I cannot force it upon him any longer."
He sighed before he continued speaking.
"Camille, I am old. I will be turning seventy next year. And though the past few years of playing this villainous game have been fun, I know that I will not get to enjoy it for long. I have tried to teach Junior about what it takes to be evil, how to create and execute a villainous plan, even how to do a villainous laugh. But my boy simply does not learn. You have already proven to be a better villain than he will ever be. I want you, my granddaughter, to be the heir to my evil legacy. The idea first came to me when I was attempting to blackmail you when I learned of your villainous secret. Joining me was the goal of that blackmail."
She was stunned. But more than that, she was confused. She hated the man. She had shown it both in words and actions. And yet all he did in return was show her love and understanding. But this, this was the biggest shock of all. He wanted to make her the successor to his "evil empire" as he had put it. She didn't know what to think.
"No."
This time it was Senior who reeled from an unexpected reply.
"What do you mean, 'no'?"
"I'm not evil. I don't want to conquer the world. I just want-"
She stopped herself before she revealed something about herself. She had learned that being open with others only invited pain.
"What do you want?"
"Nothing."
"You obviously want something. You yourself said that you had a plan with Ron Stoppable. There must be some reason you are here today, some reason you have been working with Dr. Drakken. What do you want?"
She glared at him briefly before turning away again.
"What I want you can't provide for me. No one can."
"You are family, Camille. It hurts me to see you this way. It hurts more than when I see you acting like a fool on television. I know that cannot be the real you. This conversation has only proven my beliefs. When we get out of here you should come with me. I know that I cannot make up for not being with you and your mother these past twenty years, but I can try to start now. If you would only give me a chance."
Camille stared down at the floor as she sat on her bed. Part of her wanted to accept his offer. With it would come money. Money was one reason she joined the world of super villains. And maybe, just maybe, he could provide other things, things she lacked when she had grown up. Family was obviously a very important thing to him. But at the same time opening yourself up made you vulnerable. And when you were vulnerable you got hurt.
Before she could reach a decision she heard movement from the other cell next to her.
Ron's eyes had opened and his body began to stir. It took a few moments but eventually he sat up. His eyes blinked hard as he tried to focus on the shapes in front of him.
"Where am I?" he asked to no one in particular.
Camille didn't answer. She hadn't forgotten what he had said to her before they had been captured. Senior did so instead.
"You are currently a prisoner in Dr. Drakken's lair," he said calmly.
Ron stood up and grasped the bars that confined him to his small prison. He tried in vain to pry them apart.
"Yes, yes we are," he said happily.
Senior didn't understand how he could sound so happy about being stuck in a prison cell. But Camille could take a guess as to why. Insanity did weird things to a person.
"Then we'll just have to escape," he continued.
How he planned on pulling that off, neither of the other two villains knew.
"Do not bother, there is no escape from this place without the assistance of Kim Possible," Senior told him.
The mention of Kim's name prompted an outburst of laughter from Ron. It was the same laugh from before when they were talking to Drakken and Shego. It was a wild, psychotic cackle.
"What is so funny?"
"Kim… Possible…" Ron said the best he could through his laughter.
Camille didn't comment. There was no use trying to understand the logic of a madman.
"I am afraid I do not understand the humor in Kim Possible. But it is good that you are awake. They will be serving dinner soon."
The mention of food made Ron's laughing cease. It was the only aspect of him that remained unchanged in his new condition. He still loved to eat.
"Food?" he asked. "What do they serve?"
"Today is Sunday, so they will be serving steak and a baked potato."
Ron's eye twitched as he looked at Senior, searching for any truth in his words.
"Steak?" he asked hopefully.
"No, of course not," Senior said. "We are prisoners. They do not serve such fine cuisine to the likes of us. No, the best we can hope for is a mysterious meat-like substance and mashed potatoes. That is what it was last Sunday."
Camille wanted to laugh, had the current situation not been so dire. Even in Drakken's lair Ron couldn't escape mystery meat.
As if on cue a pair of henchmen entered the room carrying plates of food. The set the three plates on the floor and pushed them underneath the bars of the cells.
"Eat up," one of them said. "We wouldn't want to have our honored guests starve."
The two henchmen chuckled as they exited the room.
"Way to go Bob," the second said.
Camille looked down at her mystery meat and mashed potatoes. It was perhaps the most unappealing meal she had ever seen in her life. But looking off to her left she saw Senior enjoying it.
A few minutes later Dr. Drakken and Shego returned to the room. They headed straight for Ron's cell. Drakken wasted no time with his questions.
"Now you will tell me, buffoon. Where is the Tempus Simia idol's head?"
Ron laughed. It was becoming old.
He staggered backwards into the wall before slumping down to the floor, his laughter continuing all the while. And it continued as he sat on the floor, uncaring about the four people staring at him.
"What's wrong with him?" Drakken asked Camille.
"Everything," she said cryptically.
Drakken was beginning to get frustrated now. He stomped up next to the bars and grabbed hold of them.
"Listen to me, sidekick!" he yelled. "You will tell me what I want to know! Or you will suffer the consequences."
Those words brought Ron out of his insane stupor. But not for the reason Drakken thought.
"I won't be here for long," he said.
Drakken squinted his eyes in confusion.
"Have you gone completely insane? You are trapped inside of this lair. You are at my mercy."
"Kim Possible will be here soon," Ron said knowingly.
Drakken's eyes widened at the mention of his arch nemesis.
"And just how do you know that?"
"Because she has a tracking chip inside me. She knows exactly where I am."
Drakken turned to Shego for some kind of explanation.
"Don't look at me. How would I know?" she said.
He next turned to Camille.
"Does she?"
More confusion crossed Camille's mind. Shego claimed she didn't know. But Shego was the one who had given her the letter that said that Kim had put a tracking chip inside Ron. This didn't make sense. Why would she lie to Drakken about it?
"Yeah. She does," she admitted.
Fear gripped Drakken's heart when he realized what it meant. It meant that Kim would be coming to rescue her best friend and sidekick.
"Then we're going to get it out of you. And then flush it down the toilet!"
Three sets of eyes looked at him weirdly. Ron on the other hand resumed his laughter.
"Because… that's what they do in the movies!" Drakken said in his defense. "They flush it down the toilet and it goes through the sewers so it looks like the person is somewhere else."
It made sense. But it didn't take away from the weirdness of what he had said.
"Okay Dr. D. And how do you plan on removing it?" Shego asked.
"With a very sharp knife of course," he smiled.
Camille's eyes widened as she looked over at Ron. If he was afraid he didn't show it. There was a stupid grin plastered to his face as he continued shaking his head and laughing.
"Of course we can't operate on him if he's like this. Shego, bring me my own tranquilizer. I'll show this fool what kind of drug a genius of my caliber uses."
Shego rolled her eyes and left the room to retrieve the item that Drakken sought. While she was gone no one attempted to start a conversation. Senior finished his dinner while Camille poked around at her food. She took a few bites of the mashed potatoes, but found them to be as disgusting as they looked. Ron ate nothing.
When Shego returned she handed a sleek looking gun to her employer. It was by far better looking than the converted paintball gun that Ron had used. He pointed it through the bars at the young man.
"Leave my food. I'll be hungry when I get back," he said in a rare moment of clarity.
"Fine. It makes little difference to me if you want your slop warm or cold," Drakken said. "This won't take long, not that you'll be awake for any of it."
He fired a dart into Ron's chest. Just seconds later he slumped over to his side, the tranquilizer having taken its effect very efficiently. Shego opened the door and checked to see if he was truly unconscious. When she was sure that he was, she lifted him up and tossed him over her shoulder.
No one said a word as the trio left the room.
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No one had entered the room for the past hour. She was agonizingly alone the entire time with Senior. At times he attempted to start a conversation, but she did little to participate in it. Most of what caught her interest, the stuff she did pay attention to, was about her inheriting the role of villain. His fortune of course would be left to his son, but clearly Junior had little interest in carrying on his newly found family legacy. If Senior wanted a competent heir, it would not be his son. His granddaughter was his best bet.
She found herself trying not to care about his words. She didn't like him. And opening up to him was the first step to forgiving him. And that was something she did not want to do. She hated forgiving people. It was much better, not to mention a lot more fun, to prolong their torment and suffering by exacting vengeance upon them. It was why she had had his island manor destroyed. It was why he had been sitting in Drakken's lair for so many days. It was one of the reasons she had come back with Ron, to acquire him so she could personally make him suffer. The fact that he was so gentlemanly and calm was not helping matters. How could you be angry at a person when they didn't fight back?
So was thankful when she heard the door whoosh open and saw Ron being dragged back into the room. At this point she never would have thought that she would be thankful to see her psychotic boyfriend. She caught herself thinking that word. Boyfriend. It was the second time they had been a couple. And neither of the times was real. The first time he had been tricked and seduced into her clutches. He had been real, but she had not been. And the second time she had been real, but had not been. It was just like the voice in her head had told her, the one that had taken Bonnie's visage. What they had was not anything close to real affection for each other. It was what she claimed she wanted. Emotions only ruined things. Without emotions you couldn't get hurt. She hated it when the voices were right.
Shego tossed him into his cell. He was awake, but still woozy. He simply laid there with his eyes struggling to focus on anything. There was a bloody piece of gauze taped to the back of his neck. Shego slammed the door shut and turned to Camille.
"What do you know, he really did have a chip," she shrugged. "I have no idea why he bothered to tell us. He really overplayed his hand. Now Kimmie can't come rescue him."
It just occurred to Camille that she was right. She shouldn't have backed up Ron's story. She felt incredibly stupid at the moment. Their best chance to escape was gone now. But she couldn't beat herself up over it. What was done was done. She could do nothing to change that.
"By the way, what's your problem? Why did you change the plan?"
The blonde glared up at her captor.
"Because I've been following my own plan for a long time now. One that didn't involve idiots like you and Drakken."
The insult earned a smile from the villainess.
"Idiots, huh? You seem to be the one sitting in a cell forced to eat whatever crap we decide to feed you. Seems like Senior here already finished his."
"Whatever."
" 'Whatever'," Shego said mockingly. "Honestly sometimes I do think you're as stupid as you look on TV.
"Yeah, well I'd say you're pretty stupid for unleashing the only thing in this world that you're afraid of," she said as she glanced down at Ron.
Shego scowled when she heard Camille say she was afraid of Ron.
"I didn't do anything. I have no idea what you're even talking about. And apparently you don't either."
Camille didn't take her eyes off of Ron when she replied.
"I'm afraid I do."
Shego knew what she meant by that. Even though she would never admit to being frightened when Ron was previously evil, she knew that Camille knew the truth. They had experienced the same thing.
"I'll be back when Stoppable regains his senses. We still need to get the location of the… monkey head from him," she said with noticeable hesitation.
Shego sighed and left the room, leaving the three prisoners there with a single red-clad henchman to guard them. He sat in a chair next to the door with a magazine in his hands. The man didn't particularly care for about any of the villains who were imprisoned. They had no powers that could harm him, nor could they do anything to break through the bars. As far as he was concerned this was an easy assignment.
Ron leaned his head against the wall as he continued to recover his senses. After a few moments a demented grin spread across his face. A moment later he collapsed to the ground in a heap.
Camille and Senior watched in horror as he convulsed on the ground, flopping like a fish out of water. White foam was seeping through his lips. She jumped from her bed and ran next to the bars that separated them.
"Ron?" Camille gasped. "Ron what's going on?"
He didn't answer. He simply continued shaking, oblivious to anything going on around him.
"Say something Ron!"
There was no response. There were only the painful, erratic movements of his body and limbs on the cold floor.
She moved over to the side of her cell closest to the guard. He had lowered the magazine from his face and was watching the events that were unfolding.
"Hey what's going on over there?" he called out.
"Get help! We need a doctor!"
He stood and walked over to the cells. He looked down at Ron.
"We have Dr. Drakken," he said confidently.
"No you idiot!" she yelled. "A real doctor! A medical one!"
"Oh. One of our guys was a trained paramedic before he found his evil calling. I still remember the day he-"
"Does it look like I care about his life story? Just go get him!"
The henchman gave one last look at Ron. His movements were getting worse. A puddle of white liquid was growing under his face. He rushed out of the room to get the man in question.
Camille moved back next to Ron and knelt down beside him. It had to be an effect of the attitudinator. Or the tranquilizer. She didn't know which, but something was causing a terrible reaction in his body. One didn't begin convulsing and foaming at the mouth for no reason.
Tense minutes passed by as Ron's body began to still. She didn't know if that was good or bad. It would be good if whatever was occurring had passed. It would be bad if it had gotten to a far worse stage than what had just been happening. She looked up when she heard the door open again.
Ron's convulsions started up again as the guard brought in a couple of new henchmen. One carried a small white bag marked with the Red Cross symbol on it. The other carried a small, lightweight stretcher. They set their equipment down on the floor before they approached the prison cells.
"What seems to be the problem here?" one of them asked.
"Are you stupid? Look at him!" Camille shouted.
They looked down as they saw white liquid continue to slowly bubble and seep from his mouth. His shaking was as violent as when it had started.
"That doesn't look right," a man said.
Camille was getting upset now. Did he feel smart for making such an obvious statement?
"Which one of you is the paramedic?"
"That would be me," the same man said.
"You have to do something! I think he's having some kind of reaction to either the tranquilizer or attitudinator."
"Oh. That certainly isn't good."
"Duh! Open the damn door and help him!"
The paramedic henchman turned to the two others and nodded. The guard produced a key and opened Ron's cell. The three entered it, bringing their equipment with them.
The guard emitted a cry of pain as Ron sank his teeth into his meaty hamstring. The blood blended into his red uniform, but the full extent of the damage was seen in Ron's teeth and lips. Blood dribbled down his chin as he stood up.
Now that the biggest man was for the moment incapacitated the remaining two were easy prey. Ron rammed his fist into the stomach of the smaller of the remaining two, the paramedic. The man doubled over in pain and struggled to take a breath as Ron pushed him out of his way. He then wrapped his hands around the throat of the third man, the one who had carried in the small stretcher.
The two grappled and struggled with each other, a look of fear evident on the henchman's face as he stared into Ron's deranged eyes. Ron soon gained the upper hand and sent them both crashing to the floor, his hands still gripping tightly around his opponent's throat.
Ron let out a grunt as the first wounded henchman slammed his fist into the side of his head. He tumbled off of the other henchman landing hard on his side. His head still slightly dazed, he began crawling out of the cell on his hands and knees. The henchman's wounded leg made it slow to pursue the escaping young man, but eventually caught up with him outside of the cell.
He grabbed hold of Ron's leg, who was still down on all fours. He pulled the leg in an attempt to have Ron fall onto his stomach. He was successful, but didn't anticipate Ron rolling onto his back. Ron brought his captive leg close to his chest, pulling the henchman down with him. With his free leg Ron kicked the man in his chest as hard as he could, knocking the henchman back several feet into the steel bars of the prison cells.
The former sidekick stood up as quickly as he could; ready to face off again with his foe. He looked down at the floor underneath the man and saw a small pool of blood forming where he stood. It was his weakness.
Ron danced around to the side of his weakened leg and lunged at the wound. A swift kick brought the henchman down to a knee as he cried out from the blow. A fist plowed into his head that sent him falling on his side. Ron looked up at the other two men who were still struggling to catch their breath in his former cell. He smiled a triumphant grin as he began laughing hysterically.
He grabbed and dragged the wounded man inside the confined area, and grabbed hold of the third man who had brought in the stretcher. After forcing him outside he shut the door.
"You're going to get me out of here," he told the uninjured henchman.
"W-w-what?" he stammered.
"You know how to fly one of Drakken's hover jets? I sincerely hope for your sake that you say 'yes'."
"Yes! Yes I can fly it!"
"Good…"
Ron turned and looked at the wide-eyed Camille. She was speechless by the events that had just taken place. The keys to the prison doors were lying on the ground. He snatched them up in his palm.
"Tell me sidekick, what does your freedom mean to you?"
She gave him a puzzled look.
"What are you talking about?"
"I can let you join in my escape. Or I can let you rot in here until Kim Possible comes here sometime in the future to stop Drakken's next evil plot. Which do you want?"
"I want to get out. Why wouldn't I?"
He sneered at her. He didn't like her tone.
"Beg for it."
"What?" she asked in disbelief.
"Beg for your freedom, and I'll let you out."
"Screw you, Ron. I'm not begging for anything."
"Been there, done that," he smiled.
She knew what he meant by that. It made her blood boil.
"Listen to me you psychotic freak, I'm your partner. Get me out of this cell right now!"
He walked over to her and pressed his face in between the bars as far as it would go.
"You've got spunk," he said with a wide-eyed grin. As quickly as the grin had appeared it vanished and turned into a hateful frown. "I hate spunk."
"We have to get out of here fast. Drakken and Shego could come back any minute. Please Ron, let me out," she pleaded.
It may not have been begging, but it was good enough.
"Fine," he pouted. "You're no fun at all."
He used the keys to unlock her door. After he had stepped away the door swung open and she strode out. She glared hatefully into his eyes.
"How dare you think that you can make someone like me beg," she growled.
He ignored her and turned to look at Senior.
"What do you think we should do with him?"
Camille was torn. On one hand she wanted to personally torture him. On the other they simply had no way, no time to make their escape with an old man slowing them down. Unless…
No. He would sit in here and languish in Drakken's prison. But…
"Leave him," she said at last. "He means nothing to me."
Ron nodded.
"You two can never escape," the captured henchman protested. "They'll know something's up with you two walking around freely."
Camille looked at him. He was right.
"So true," she said as she used her powers to morph into a new body. The henchman watched in terror as the beautiful teenage girl became someone completely unlike her. Her thin, attractive form was replaced by a slightly overweight, red jumpsuit wearing henchman. "But I think that two of Drakken's men escorting Ron to their employer to confess the location of the Tempus Simia's head will be just fine."
The henchman swallowed hard. He realized that she was probably correct. He opened his mouth to object but was cut off before he got a word out.
"If you try to warn anyone about what's really going on, I will make sure you experience agony before we are recaptured," Ron warned him. "Are we clear?" he grinned.
The henchman nodded quickly.
"Good. Let's go."
Ron tossed the keys to the floor and exited the room. The henchman followed after him, leaving Camille alone in the detention area. She looked down forlornly at the set of keys, and then back up at Senior. She knew that if she left him here there would be little chance of him ever getting out. She saw the food he ate. She knew the cold, cramped conditions he endured. She reached down to pick up the keys and tossed them next to the bars of his cell.
"I still hate you," she told him. "I'd just rather get my revenge personally instead of letting you sit in here for the rest of your life. That would be going too easy on you."
Without waiting for a reply she stormed out of the room to catch up with Ron and the henchman. Senior smiled after she left.
XXXXXXXXXX
The lair was eerily quiet. Most of the staff of henchmen was still under the effects of Ron's homemade tranquilizer elixir. The very few who had not been present when he had attacked were now imprisoned in their own lair. Except this one. While he appeared to be in control of the situation, he, along with Ron and Camille, knew that the exact opposite was true. He was at their mercy. He would either obey their commands, or as Ron had said, would suffer greatly. After seeing Kim Possible's sidekick tear through the flesh of one of his comrades, the henchman believed him.
As they strode through the halls they passed by a bathroom. A toolbox was next to the door. Apparently something in there was in need of repairs. He knelt down beside the box and because searching through it. Eventually he produced a rather large, heavy wrench. He stood and handed it to Camille.
"For Shego," he said, his intent obvious.
Camille didn't voice a reply. She merely nodded.
They resumed their positions, with Ron in front being flanked on either side by the two "henchmen". Eventually they reached the main room that Dr. Drakken and Shego sat alone in. Seeing the three of them enter caused them both to stand.
"What's going on here?" Drakken asked.
Camille elbowed the captive henchman in the ribs. He stood up straighter as he spoke.
"Dr. Drakken, sir. The prisoner said he would like to confess the information you want."
The mad scientist's face brightened as his sneering grin lit up the room.
"Wonderful!" he exclaimed as he stepped toward his prisoner. "It's good to see that the buffoon has a brain in his head after all."
Camille stepped away from him, her arm clenched around the other henchman's arm. Dr. Drakken nodded in approval. He was happy to have henchmen that knew their place. By the look of the blood that covered his mouth, the henchmen had roughed him up a bit before bringing him. And right now was his time to shine, his time to extract the valuable information from Ron. And he would do so by any means necessary.
"So tell me, where is the head of the Tempus Simia idol?"
Ron's eyes went wide as he grinned, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Drool built up on the tip until it slowly began dribbling to the floor, a cocktail of his own saliva and someone else's blood.
"What… the…?" Drakken said.
Ron giggled softly before erupting in full-blown laughter. His tongue writhed and wiggled as if it were a snake slithering after its prey. That along with his blood-stained teeth and mouth made him more intimidating as he should have been.
He pounced upon Drakken like a ravenous mad dog, the very animal he portrayed as a mascot. He had certainly displayed enough of its characteristics over the past few minutes. He pinned Drakken to the ground and rained blow after blow upon him. The blue-skinned man shielded his face with his arms the best he could, so Ron moved to focus on his midsection instead. He only had a few seconds to enjoy his position of dominance before Shego grabbed hold of him.
The two of them rolling on the ground, each of them struggling to gain the upper hand on the other. Ron had Shego by her wrists doing everything he could do to keep her fists away from him. He gritted his bloody teeth as he saw her hands ignite with emerald energy. The fight had just gotten much more serious.
He was about to scream out an order when he heard a sickening thud from above him. Shego's flames were extinguished as her body collapsed on top of him. Looking up he saw a henchman standing over them with a wrench in his hands. He knew that it was Camille.
He pushed the unconscious woman off of him and stood up. The same stupid grin as before was plastered on his face. He said nothing to thank her as he moved to Drakken.
"Now, doctor," he whispered. "Tell me where the Tempus Simia is."
Drakken still couldn't believe what he had just seen. His henchmen had betrayed him. And then one had knocked Shego out with a heavy, steel wrench. The other just stood there doing nothing.
"But-"
"Do you want to share the same fate as her?" he said pointing to the fallen villainess.
"No… I'll show you."
He walked over to a large safe on the other side of the room. Ron followed him as he turned to Camille and the henchman.
"You two, come," he ordered.
The four of them approached the safe. Drakken turned the knob several times to gain access to the solid steel case. He opened it to reveal the stone monkey statue inside.
"Here," Drakken grunted angrily. "Here's the stupid statue. Are you happy?"
"For now…"
Ron snatched it from his hands and turned to the henchman.
"Now you will fly us out of here. Got it?"
The man nodded silently. As they walked away, Camille morphed back into her natural form.
Terror seized Drakken's heart as the person who he thought to be a henchman began to change before his very eyes. They widened as the man revealed his true identity. The out of shape man's body was replaced with a slender, attractive female form. Drakken had never seen Camille transform right in front of him. It was frightening to witness when you weren't expecting it.
"What… what are you…?" he asked with fear-laced words.
"What am I?" she repeated aloud, considering the question for a moment. A grin spread across her face as she looked to the floor and shook her head slightly. She then looked up and gazed at Drakken with her icy blue eyes. "I'm a total bitch."
She struck him across the face with the back of her fist. He yelped in pain as he fell to his knees. She didn't have the strength to render someone unconscious like Ron did, but it had served its purpose. He had been standing in the way of the safe. She reached into it and grabbed the Tiffany Yellow Diamond. She had wanted to wear the diamond around her neck from the moment she first saw it at the museum, the night she had posed as Kim Possible in order to steal it for Dr. Drakken in the first place.
She held it delicately in her fingers as she inspected the marvelous gem. She knew that only a young woman of her elegance and beauty could ever do the diamond justice. It deserved to be hers. She was righting a terrible wrong by taking it.
A smirk graced her lips as she put it in her pocket and followed Ron and the other henchman out of the room to the hanger.
As she left she didn't see a pair of blue eyes peer from around a corner, a proud smile on display watching every step she took.
XXXXXXXXXX
They had been en route back to Middleton for several minutes before Camille gathered the resolve to speak to her partner. This mission had revealed the true extent of not only his madness, but his evil potential as well. It appeared that they went hand in hand. And if that was the case she did not want either of them. She wanted…
"Do you mind telling me what the heck happened in there?" she asked him.
Ron stared down at the idol as he spoke. His voice was unusually monotone.
"Mashed potatoes," was all he said.
"What?"
"I used the mashed potatoes to make them think something was wrong with me."
"Oh. That's why you told them to leave your food?"
"Yes."
"I see."
"Consider this partnership over," he said without provocation.
Camille should have felt relief hearing those words. But instead some part of her felt enraged and humiliated. This was the second time he was dumping her.
"Excuse me?" she asked in disbelief.
"I have what I want. And you have been nothing but an annoyance today. You reached the high point of your usefulness to me that one special night we shared. We're done now."
She was furious that he had brought that night up. She felt cheap, used. It was just another instance of someone hurting her because she had let herself be vulnerable in front of them. She didn't care how twisted and insane he was. She struck him as hard as she could.
He made no sound indicating he felt pain. Instead he just laughed. He had laughed so much this day, it was beginning to take its toll on her nerves. Camille hated his evil laugh. She hated that depraved, psychotic cackle. Shego had been right. It was incredibly annoying.
"Don't feel so bad. One day when I'm ruling the world maybe I'll remember you. I'll remember you as the pathetic, worthless person I've learned that you are," he said as he stood up. He strapped a parachute pack to himself before moving next to the side door of the hover jet. "Now if you'll excuse me, this is my stop."
Ron slammed his fist on a button that opened the door. Wind whipped into the passenger's section of the craft as he jumped out with his prize.
Camille struggled against the wind as she tried to close the door. Eventually though she did and breathed a sigh of relief as she sat back down.
By now the henchman realized what had happened. Without Ron there to threaten him he quickly turned the hover jet around to return to Drakken's lair. Camille had one choice if she didn't want to return to the madman's clutches.
Any doubt she had about Kim's words had long since been cast out of her mind. Her ex-partner, her ex-boyfriend of two occasions, the only friend who had ever liked her for her, was going to die. There was only one thing left that she could do for him.
She had never jumped out of a plane before. Her heart was pounding as she slipped a parachute pack onto her back. She wanted so badly not to jump. But there was no alternative.
Camille took a deep breath as she opened the door and cast herself into the setting sun.