A/N Anyone out there?

*crickets*

XD Thanks to those of you still hanging in here. The first three chapters were basically an introduction. The pace will pick up from here on. Kim and Ron show up for the first time. Trust me they're going to play major roles in the story.

The Mintz-Estleman is wildly regarded as the top hotel in Go City. Conveniently located in the heart of the city, it features such front side attractions like doormen in shiny black overcoats bowing at the waist calling everyone by "sir" or "ma'am." Right off the bat the hotel staff attempted to make the guests feel superior to everyone outside their walls. I smoothed out my suit with my hands as I walked across the red carpet that led past the front doors and into the vast lobby of the hotel. I may not have really wanted to be here but that didn't mean I wasn't going to look my best.

I drifted away from the lobby into the Grand Ballroom. It was a gala event, so an orchestra was set on the second level overlooking the festivities in order to maximize space. There was a podium at one end of the room and the other end led to large French doors that opened into an outdoor patio overlooking the lights of the city. It was a really beautiful room that benefited greatly from a Georgian architectural style. I accepted a glass of champagne from a roving waiter and I took a moment to appreciate the gentle tune coming from the orchestra. Realizing they weren't playing anything I recognized I lost interest and decided to look around. A woman possibly in her early forties seated across the room crossed her legs and caught my eye. I was weighing the pros and cons when someone who presented much less potentiality for future fun sidled into my field of vision.

We noticed each other at the same time, and he immediately started towards me. This person was a middle-aged Southern gentleman wearing a panama hat and a cape over a cream-colored linen suit. The man's name was Deacon Turner, once known as "The Southern Dandy" a former staple of my father's infamous rogue's gallery

"William Du, I can scarcely contain my glee. It's been much too long since I've seen you in person!"

"It has been awhile Uncle Deacon."

It would be a tremendous understatement for me to describe my relationship with this former criminal as strange. It was a peculiar attachment that went back a long way. In the height of his power the criminal mastermind SlantTop had gathered a few of my fathers' nemesis to form a criminal super group. It wasn't the first time villains banded together against my father or the D.O.I and it wouldn't be the last. But this particular instance was one of SlantTop's better schemes. He had ordered that I be kidnapped. It was and still is to this day a social taboo on both sides of the law for arch villains to involve the very young children of his foes in their diabolical plots. Ever the non conformist SlantTop had me successfully plucked from the cafeteria of my private school. A few of his cohorts had misgivings about the kidnapping but going against SlantTop's wishes had its obvious health risks. Still as long as the child was unharmed physically and my father was annihilated the ends would presumably justify the means. Those parameters did not last long. Cain Du and the D.O.I overcame slowly collapsing ceilings, hypnotized assassins, and cryptic riddles. As they seemingly snatched victory from the jaws of defeat once again, SlantTop in a fit of madness ordered that I be killed. The Southern Dandy being directly descended from Robert E. Lee could not stand to have his honor besmirched by being known as a child killer. Deacon double crossed his partners and returned me to my father. Cain Du was grateful; he befriended the villain and convinced him to give up his life of crime. Deacon turned his back on villainy and assisted my father in various exploits, in turn my father worked to have his rap sheet expunged. In hindsight this was excellent foreshadowing for some of my father's future actions, and one could easily say it paved some of the road for the Reformation Act down the line.

Deacon continues to work by my father's side as a supervisor in the security firm he founded after his retirement from the D.O.I. Though we were not related by blood my father insisted his children call all close friends of his uncle. It wasn't that I was ungrateful to the man who saved my life but it was a practice that I yearned to be free from.

"I must confess that I was at a lost when I heard of your separation with the D.O.I, an egregious error on their part in every manner possible."

I offered him my best smile. "If you're looking for a dissenting opinion Uncle Deacon you won't get it from me."

"In addition I was also stunned to hear that you've become a private investigator, a most irregular line of occupation for someone of your intellectual caliber. And plainly speaking son, you don't fulfill the common expectations of the traditional American P.I."

"Well uncle as they say 'most things genuine aren't what you expect.'"

He grinned. "Oh, indeed, indeed. I am happy to see that fire still burning in your eyes William. I can safely say I am sufficiently relieved of my former concern. Though of course with the passage of time if your father were to offer a kind word in your behalf, I'm sure your reinstatement could be achieved."

His very suggestion rankled. But I was able to remain polite.

"It's a fair suggestion uncle, but I believe I mustn't rely on my father to correct my mistakes. I am a man who wishes to bring about his own success."

He patted me on the shoulder and laughed. "A very commendable attitude, however do not discount the aid of your father. He wasn't known as a miracle worker for naught. I do recall in years yonder him speaking proudly of your knowledge of law; I do believe he envisioned you as a big city lawyer. That is still a possibility. Our firm is growing every day and a business can never have enough lawyers."

I wanted to change the subject but I realized that were I to continue this conversation I would never be able to get rid of him. Any and all conversation with the man would invariably return to the topic of my father. And with each uttering of praise my levy of civility would come close to breaking.

Beyond Deacon, Diana materialized before my very eyes. I caught her eye and she started over.

"Diana is heading over" I said.

Deacon craned his neck around for a look and then he returned his attention to me. I stared attempting to "will" him away from my personal space. He must have picked up on something because he cracked a broad smile.

"Ah the fair lady Hobble….such is the springtime of youth, another adventure to begin I suppose. But then the very essence of youth cultivates adventures. A fact often remarked upon by the poets of the Romantic era."

He tipped his hat to me. "Well William perhaps we shall speak more at another time. For now I shall bid you adieu and luck in all matters of occupation and courtship."

Deacon slipped away and was engulfed by a gaggle of society types who wanted a moment of his time. Diana approached in a purple & lilac strapless dress.

"Mr. Turner sure rushed off."

"Long story." I said as I looked her over. "I suppose I should say you've gotten beautiful over the years but you've probably already heard it."

"Not from you." She drew an arm through mine and she pulled across the ballroom floor "So what do you think of the party?"

"What am I supposed to think?"

"That interacting with the major movers of the city can be enjoyable...That it is fun mingling with your peers?"

Peers?

I glanced around and saw Agent Bouy standing beside a punch bowl glowering at me. Down the table I saw the James and Anne Possible conversing with Mr. and Mrs. Stoppable. My eyes continued to roam and I noticed that along with some of the city's legislatures most of the police force had been invited as well which explained why Diana and Bouy were here.

Peers indeed……

"Inhaling paint fumes can be enjoyable as well but that usually leaves me with a bout of nausea." I said to her.

Diana likely replied with something laced with snark but unfortunately my attention had gone elsewhere. I was watching Elizabeth Director stroll along the far side of the room with an immaculate, elegant flow you couldn't even learn. It had to come natural. If Diana looked very good, and she did, the widow Director looked exquisite. She was wearing a dress, an off white colored silk that accentuated the hourglass shape while making her body look alive and restless underneath. Like a British poet once said "in life, as in art, the beautiful moves in curves."

"The captain is gorgeous isn't she?"

I looked away. "If you say so."

"You can say so too William, it's not a sin."

I wasn't going to explain something to Diana she couldn't possibly understand. She had no idea how it felt to revert to a little boy again in that woman's presence. A little boy coming of age with a primate named desire continuously scratching at your back. Reverting back to a time where every attractive passing girl was a kick to the unmentionables. Diana and I suppose many women can't understand the way it could hurt. The longing cannot be described, yet it was quite palpable.

"Are you ok?"

"Yes I am… why wouldn't I be?"

"Remember when I asked you about regret the other day. Well to be more specific I meant don't you ever doubt yourself, with decisions you've made about life….love and the like?"

"Diana when I make a decision about something, I try to make it based on facts, and how things are supposed to fit together. Things only fit in one way, you find the way and you can't be wrong."

She stared back at me with pure skepticism. "You of all people William should now that facts can change, things don't always fit the way they should."

"Diana if a fact changes it was never a fact in the first place; it was at best a theory. There are no errors in facts, only in the fact finder."

She sighed loudly. "Sometimes I wonder…"

"Wonder about what?"

Diana stopped walking, placed her hand on my lower back and pushed. "I wonder why you continue to avoid your little sister."

I stumbled into a hug from my little sister. The polite thing to do was hug back.

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My little sister Welta was fourteen. She was the spitting image of my mother and she was quite mature for her age. As I pulled away from the embrace, she brushed her bangs away to showcase her lit up face. It was an amusing sight because I fondly recalled her fussing over her hair through the years. Her bangs grew at least three times as fast as the rest of her hair, and it must have taken her a lifetime to force them into lying flat for this party.

"You look quite impeccable this evening Welta."

She smiled brightly."Thank your brother. You look quite handsome tonight….Though Will, you know it's normal for men to be married at your age. How long are you planning on this bachelor lifestyle?"

Needless to say I was significantly taken aback.

Welta shook her head slowly. "Your issues with commitment will only become a detriment to you down the road."

"I have a theory that it's his taste in women that is the problem." Diana snickered as she eyed me.

"Oh really?" my sister commented. "Then again I've noticed he does have a bit of a wandering eye."

I was significantly appalled.

I peered over at Diana for a moment and she was grinning from ear to ear. I found myself stammering. "This is an inappropriate topic for a party. And I do not mean to cast vulgar opinions upon my own sister, but I find your frankness to be very unladylike"

They laughed, moaning happily with their hands on waist. It was humiliating. I was ready to walk away when my sister let out a high pitched squeal.

"There they are."

I followed her eyes and watched Team Possible floating into the room hand in hand accompanied by a deafening applause. Possible appeared happy and poised while greeting those around them. Stoppable greeted and smiled, but he looked more than slightly uncomfortable. Our ambitious young DA Walter Nelson strolled up to them with his own flock behind him and shook both their hands. I recalled hearing they were former classmates in elementary school. I turned my attention back to my sister and saw that her eyes were as wide as saucers. Welta could have been chosen to represent the average Go City citizen with her holding both Kim and my father close to her heart.

I turned back to the stars of the hour. I had run into enough alpha females in my lifetime to recognize an archetype when I saw one. This was Kim Possible, she was smart, athletic gifted and had a mental toughness in dangerous situations that far and away exceeded most of her female peers. I speak from experience as I've cooperated with her once or twice when my former career and her hobby happened to intersect. She was more than competent in the field of crime fighting but strangely she held no high opinion of herself, her looks, and her skills. That is she didn't beyond the contrived "I can do anything" motto that she spouted every now and then, something that was obviously a defense mechanism of some kind. When we first met I perceived her to be a stark amateur. That assessment had to change over the years. She deserved the temporary label of number one; she deserved to be a benchmark to be surpassed.

"She's beautiful" my sister crowed.

Kim Possible's beauty was what I would describe as elegantly awkward. Something that one would notice if you had experienced her alternating between a dignified hero and a deftly concealed childlike demeanor. Now Kimberly Possible, with the lack of significant curves notwithstanding, was very attractive, but I wasn't all that attracted to her. This had nothing to do with her looks, which leaned towards the traditional beauty, I just found her a tad too chaste. The material was there of course but she didn't project much sensuality…physically.

But all that of course, was irrelevant to my case.

I watched her wave to her following and they loved her for it. Ron Stoppable stood besides her simply "existing" in the moment. For years during their rise to "hero-dom" people wondered why she spent most of her spare time with her socially less impressive sidekick, it came across as puzzling. For a long time it was widely assumed the relationship with Ron was just a relic of childhood, that changed when they became a couple. When that happened there came a collective "oh…I see…really?" from the masses and the gossip columns. Because obviously there wasn't anything better to discuss. The coupling soon became the stuff of fairy tales and added more to the legend, the "social outcast" sidekick and the head "strong princess" hero coming together. The press ate it up. However unlikely, a coupling it may seem. I could see the appeal from an outside perspective.

Though, it was much too saccharine for my liking.

Mercifully before I could muse upon the "intricacies" of their relationship, I saw my father walking across the room to a chorus of applause equal to the one given to Team Possible. He took his place at the podium and snatched up the microphone that was waiting for him there. The crowd grew quiet and he began to speak.

"We're here to honor, heroism and courage in its purest form. There comes the time when the world needs a hero…Kim Possible is a model for us all…."

My pain threshold already significantly breached I began to give serious consideration to the possibility of drowning myself in the closest bowl of punch.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What do you think?"

My father had just wrapped up his talk when Diana moved close with a glass of champagne in hand.

My focus still on Team Possible I told her what I thought. "I think Kim Possible is used to the praise so she's in her element, there are no signs of stress or any peculiar mannerisms. Stoppable appears uncomfortable but in some circumstances you can consider him socially stunted. A high class party like this would likely unnerve him a bit. He's known to be an odd character so any unusual activity coming from him might be a natural affair"

A looked at Diana. "I'll have to get closer…."

"What?!"

My memories of working with Team Possible were a grand asset at the moment. I'd seen Possible jump out of a blimp without a parachute. And I'd seen Stoppable reveal intimate personal secrets about his life to villains attempting to kill him. If anyone was going to give me something it would be him,

Diana waved her palm before my face. "What are you looking for?"

"I don't know yet."

Suddenly it seemed like my father was rearing up for another speech. I couldn't imagine there was any more kind descriptions of Possible left.

"Now we're here to honor Kim Possible, but behind every great hero is a great sidekick…."

I chuckled. I knew where this was headed. Even though Possible has to purposely mention his name for reporters to put it in print, a bone is thrown to Stoppable every now and then. Such is the life of the world's greatest sidekick. Ironically I've never heard Possible call him a sidekick herself. For their own personal reasons they viewed themselves as a partnership. A partnership where one person got much more recognition than the other.

My father called Ron Stoppable up. It was obviously a pre-rehearsed act that was meant to appear spontaneous. Kim playfully dragged her beau towards the stage while he held a look of faux shock on his face. The crowd cheered, it felt to me like the cheers the audience of a circus gives a clown, but I've been known to have a cynical look on some things. Stoppable stepped up my father handed him his own microphone.

"Sorry Ron we don't have an award for you, the treasury ran out of gold." My father said.

The raucous laughter from the audience made my aware of the obviously rampant disingenuous that had to have been going around the room.

He continued. "So how can we make it up to you?"

Stoppable ran his hand across the back of his neck. "Hey how about we sing Ron's song?"

This entire sequence was as spontaneous as an arranged marriage.

"Alright let's do Ron's song!" My father shouted.

The crowd cheered. My father signaled for the orchestra. The audience hushed as the music began to play

"Here's a happy tune…." My father "sang talked."

"----A happy tune----" Ron belted into the microphone.

"You'll love to croon…."

"---You'll love to croon---"

"They call it Cain's song….."

Mock confusion on Stoppable's face. Chuckles from the audience. Stoppable continued "sing talking."

"----Hey, you don't seem to understand---"

"Catchy as can be….."

"---I must agree---"

"The melody….."

"----The melody---"

"They call it Cain's song….."

Stoppable glanced at the chortling audience and then back at my father. "---Looks like I'm gonna have to explain this thing. You don't dig this scene, I'm saying Cain. The song is Ron's song---"

My father shook his head. "Ron, you're just a ham…."

"-----But Cain, here's the scam: the song was named after Ron---"

The horror, the horror.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"-----It's-a-sweet-melody-and-I'm-happy-to-say-it-was-named-after-me-but-he's-calling-it---" Ron sang quickly.

"Clyde's song!" My father sang-interrupted. "Catchy as can be…."

"---Now-I-don't-like-to-beef-and-I'm-sorry-to-say-this-man-is-a-thief-cause-he's-calling-it---"

"Clyde's song…Nothing on your mind....?"

Heaven only knew how much I feared for my mental state at that moment.

"----There's-a lot-on-my-mind-and-I'm-standing-here-saying-you're-being-unkind-because-you're-calling it--"

"Clyde's song….."

Ron then pretended to be walking away. "---My Italian friend we have reached the end. We simply don't seem to blend---"

My father reached out for him as he attempted to keep himself from laughing at his own antics. "Ron, let's compromise….da da da da ah….We'll call it Ron's song!"

Ron turned around gleefully. "Did he say Ron's song?!"

The moronic crowd cheered out loud. I was surrounded.

Together they sang and danced with their feet kicked up high. "Let's give the ending a rise!"

"---But, don't nobody tell Clyde---"

"That the name of this song!"

"----Is Ron's song---"

Chest out Stoppable paced about. "---It's not Kim Possible's song----"

Immense laughter echoed from the audience.

"Ron's song……" my father sang softly.

"---It's not even Wade's song---"

"It's Ron's song…..""

Stoppable turned to my father. "The only thing I know is if we put out a record, it better have Ron's song on it. Or else you gonna get a nasty letter from Calhoun...and a telephone call too!"

Applause.

Mercifully the song ended. It got a large ovation from mostly everyone in the room. My sister tugged on my sleeve and asked if I enjoyed it. There was no real way to casually mention that it was an abysmal travesty without her taking offense, so I just distanced myself from her.

"Maybe you liked it better when it was called Will's song?" Diana whispered to me as I tried to slink off. She said it as if she were reminding me of an embarrassing but essentially sweet era of our giggly past.

I shot her a look. Welta was probably too young to remember that my father and I had performed a variation of that routine during one of his Sunday picnics. Diana remembered the routine because it's part of her precious memories. I remembered the routine simply because I had an excellent memory. I deflected anymore inquiries into those Halcyon days from both Diana and my sister. I wasn't here for a trip down memory lane. I was here for one reason, it was a definite shot in the dark but I had to make sure I didn't miss the opportunity.

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The award had been given out, the spectacle was over, and the guests were finally allowed to mingle once again. I set my sights on the blond target and navigated through the crowd. The thing about Stoppable was that contrary to popular belief he was a person of true substance. Yes he was an unabashed idiot and given to wild self dramatization, but I've seen him directly or indirectly pull victory from defeat. In his own way, if you had the patience to put up with his antics, he was very reliable. Team Possible had momentarily separated while Stoppable remained at his table to finish off his meal. I sidled next to him as he shoveled food into his mouth.

"Packing it in, aren't you?"

"Huh?" He glanced up at me and then down at his plate. "Oh."

He grinned suddenly, it was goofy yet somehow it really did light up this section of the room. Whenever someone describes Ron Stoppable in a positive light you'll hear abstract phrases such as childlike wonder. Which in most contexts means nothing, however when you attempt to stare into the goof's hazel eyes. And I had the opportunity to on our very first meeting. When you stare into them you notice they have a tendency to twinkle, like a child at a carnival.

Recognition took longer than I appreciated to come to his face. Though it seemed when he did recognize me, he didn't know what to do about it. Depending on the angle one looked at, Possible did have a significant hand in me losing my job. So it's likely that would put him in an awkward position. Though why he would even dwell on that for any length of time was beyond me and reason.

"Will…Will Du, geeze it's been like…..like…how long has it been like?"

"Awhile." I said.

"That long?" He smiled.

I gestured to a free chair. "May I sit down?"

He looked over his shoulders, then back at me.

"Yeah sure, Kim's still doing her thing. So knock yourself out. Grab a roll of bread while you're at it… they're so soft."

I sat down. His rodent friend was lapping some soup up across the table, I greeted it with a nod and it happily squeaked some sort of greeting at me.

"You look a little pale Stoppable are you alright?"

"I don't do well at these things" he said.

"But you've been too dozens of these events."

"I know but they still make me anxious."

"Anxious? Don't you dodge laser fire as a hobby?"

He laughed. "I know it sounds weird but this is a completely different animal…Believe it or not things are a lot more predictable and easier to manage during missions."

He leaned forward and began to whisper. "And don't tell Kim cuz she doesn't like it when I talk like this but…I don't want to embarrass her you know. So I've always got to be on guard in these kinds of parties."

"Right" I said as he pulled back. Stoppable was still the same, he'd confer irrelevant personal with someone who had a weapon to his head. I'd seen it happen. "That was a nice bit you did. I thought it was real funny."

"Yeah it turned out better than I thought. I mean I can sing, but I'm not a great singer, maybe a just above average singer…."

"I'd agree."

He smiled. "Mr. Du said it turned out great and so I…" He stopped and stared at my face for much longer than I was comfortable with. "Mr. Du….are you related?"

"That was my father."

His jaw plopped open in an unsightly manner.

I nodded. Obviously he was still slow in putting pieces together.

"Wow, that wow…You never mentioned…but why would you… I wonder if Kim knows ….anyway its cool… It must be something having such a famous dad."

"I thank my lucky stars every morning."

"Hey" he muttered after swallowing a mouthful. "Hey y'know we…..Kim and I we felt bad about what happened. You know we tried to get in touch."

"Well I cut off all contact for a few weeks after everything came down, so that wasn't in the cards….."

He snapped his fingers. "Speaking of which I think Kim did send you a Christmas Card that year."

"I remember it."

He smiled brightly once again. "So you got it?"

"Yeah I use it as a coaster."

"Oh."

"Nothing personal, I just needed a coaster."

He fiddled with his fork, knocking it against a glass containing a strange blue liquid concoction. I could tell easily he was wondering if he should resent that remark.

"Hey I hear you; I'm always losing my coasters at home. But hey I'm glad to see you're still your usual self."

I leaned back in my chair. "My usual self?

He bit his bottom lips. "Well no offense but you're a jerk."

It was said so innocently my natural instinct was not to be offended but to chuckle. You couldn't really be mad at his honesty.

"But I get it though."

"Do you?"

"I can't really say I get it completely, because I can't really get it…but everybody has their thing. It's part of your thing just like your super self confidence. It's all part of it. You know Kim's got the same kind of confidence. It's like steel, almost unbreakable in most situations. It always amazes me, since mine is uh more like porcelain. Now that is nowhere near as hard as steel but it's better than glass. And darn it, it'll do its job, if handled with care a porcelain cup can last for years, it'll hold a cup of tea better than your hands I know that, and now that I think about it, does anyone really want to sit on a steel toilet? That would probably be cold no matter what time of year it is, really how can anyone like that steely feeling on your backside?"

He was rambling.

"You're rambling" I said.

"I am" he nodded. "I am very rambly right now….Anyway my point was since you're still your usual self that probably means you didn't let what happened get you down….I think?"

I tapped the end of my nose with my finger.

"Great it's all good…..hey I heard a rumor you're a private eye."

I reached into my pocket pulled out my P.I license and handed it to him. He studied the card on both sides enthusiastically. You're really a P.I …that's really cool."

"It's all straight," I said.

He handed the license back. "You get any weird cases?"

"Yeah I'm on one right now. This is just between us ok…a big secret."

He nodded excitedly. "Of course."

I tossed him a curve ball. "I'm actually working for Ms. Amy Hall right now."

There was a loud clatter and we both turned our heads. The pink rat had knocked a champagne glass onto the ground. It groaned out loud before scrambling off the table towards the mess on the floor. I turned back to Stoppable. Because of the interruption I had missed his initial reaction to the news. Now he appeared puzzled.

"DNAmy?"

"Yeah, that Amy Hall, she wants me to clear a few things up about Fiske's death."

"Things need to be cleared up?"

"She doesn't like that his name is being dragged through mud. And then there's the bit about you know finding out who killed him and why?"

"Oh right" he laughed softly. Then he quickly threw his hands up. "Wait I didn't mean to laugh…that was…um that was um…"

"Insolent?"

"I was going to say impolite or rude, but that word would probably work….I think….Anyway it's a real tragedy; my heart goes out to DN…miss Hall."

"Why don't you send her a card?"

He half smiled. "I'm thinking flowers. I don't know what kind though, roses are probably inappropriate….."

I allowed him to ramble on in this manner, without interruption. It felt like the right way to go. I did miss out on an important reaction but the atmosphere of the table had changed noticeably. But what really caught my attention was Stopapble's demeanor. The air of aloofness' was gone. Even his rambling about the flowers felt guarded. He was sitting straighter and his brief movement was much more graceful. For the first time, tonight I couldn't read him. The shift was subtle but his expression had cooled. This might have been more telling than anything else. What it was telling me I had no idea of.

"…..Tulips…they might work."

I interrupted. "The news must have been a shock to you huh?"

He nodded. "He was my arch foe you know….obviously Fiske and I have history, mostly bad history…but I wouldn't wish anything like what happened to him on anybody. Plus he was a reformed villain, he was a good guy. "

"He might not have been such a good guy after all. Well not according to the hints the papers are dropping."

Stoppable shrugged. "Fiske was a famous villain; people don't forget easily I wouldn't be surprised if he was getting a bad rap because of it."

"So you think he was on the straight and narrow?"

"Sounds like a question for DNAmy she knew him best."

A leaned over to him. "That sounds reasonable. But between you and me, I don't think it's impossible for someone to keep secrets from their partner, even if it's someone they love. I mean you've probably got some secrets you keep from Possible right?"

It was brief and anyone else might have missed it. His eyes flashed—with something I couldn't label directly. Gun to my head he almost seemed to panic for a moment, but he squashed it before it completely broke through the surface. However it was replaced with something much harder, a little colder. I knew then that Stoppable had changed a bit since we last met.

I went on. "Miss Hall knew him yes, but you knew him too, in a different way. Amy loved him and he could do no wrong for her. But you traded blows with the man for years. He was your main arch foe…I would trust your judgment on this more than anyone else out there. Do you think it's possible that he could have slipped back into villainy."

"I don't want to judge."

"No one is asking you to judge" I pressed. "I'm just asking for some insight. Is it possible he could have slipped?"

."I mean it might be possible…."

"Why?" I said quickly.

"Well…I….just….Monty he…he… for the longest time I thought...The thing is Fiske he had dark forces in him."

"Like Ghosts?"

"No not Ghosts…It's hard for me to explain." He took sip of the blue drink. "He just had it in him to be bad, but that doesn't mean he couldn't have changed."

I leaned back into my chair, easing the tension in the air. I pointed to the drink. "What is that, it looks delicious?"

He grinned for the first time in a few minutes. "Japanese tea, made from a rare flower called a Tan Hwa, it doesn't taste as good as it looks."

"Interesting, well I guess I better get going." I stood up and made as if I were walking away, but after a few steps I quickly turned back to Stoppable. "Ah just one more thing Stoppable."

"Shoot."

"While doing research from the case I ran along an article in the Times where a spokesman for you was quoted in saying you wish Fiske had "reached out" to you. Is that true?"

He stared blankly at me before nodding. "Yeah I would have helped if he was in some kind of trouble."

"That's very kind of you. Very Noble. When was the last time you talked to Fiske?"

"I haven't really had anything close to real conversation with him in years."

I leaned forward and looked at his twinkling eyes and said. "See Miss Hall says something different; she says you and Fiske, had a conversation just weeks before his death. She says you were helping him adjust to the life of a civilian. How do you explain that?"

He tore his eyes away from mine. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Do you know anything about what he was doing, did he threaten you, and did he reveal his plans?"

"DNAmy is wrong."

"Is she? Are you sure about that?"

"I'm sure."

"Well one of you is lying." I said. "But why would she lie? Why would you lie?"

A wide grin now, but alarm on a face that that had been preoccupied with being hard to read. "I wouldn't, I'm not. Maybe it's all just a misunderstanding."

A misunderstanding was a valid possibility. The alternative was that someone was lying to me. If I had to believe someone it wouldn't be the seemingly out of character blond fellow sitting before me. Now I was really interested. I wanted to find out if I was being lied to or if it was a misunderstanding. I wanted to know what happened to Monkey Fiske and how Stoppable might or might not fit in the picture.

"So you've had no contact with Fiske whatsoever in the weeks leading up to his death?"

Hesitation, then he gave me the smile again. He was set to answer when we were interrupted.

"Hello Mister Du."

I straightened up and turned to meet Kim Possible.

"Good to see you again." I said and offered a hand.

"Feeling's mutual." The handshake was dry, the look sincere. Face to face Kim Possible did not make it easy to dislike her. But there were enough reasons to muster that emotion.

"Thanks for coming" she said.

"You probably say that to all the guests."

She smiled and looked at Stoppable. "So you guys having fun? What were you talking about?"

"He's really a P.I. KP and he's working on a case for…." Stoppable stopped and looked at me.

I nodded to him casually. "Oh I was just wondering if Stoppable he any insights on Monkey Fist."

"Fiske?"She asked.

"He's working on a case for DNAmy." Stoppable whispered.

Possible didn't blink. "Really?"

"That's right…..I feel I should ask, since you have a cavalcade of your own villains what can you tell me about the thievery ring rumors?"

"Not much more than the papers can--"

The thing about Kim Possible was. Depending on the circumstances she might be a worse liar than Stoppable. But only in social situations, when the most that was on the line was inconsequential things like feelings. Not that I've had many opportunities to witness her in the act of lying, but I have been around when things got personal. I'd been fortunate to witness her and Stoppable having a lovers spat. One of those one sided spats when the woman was mad and the man was trying to find out why. She'd give him the tired line of "nothing is wrong" and I was able to read her like a billboard. When in "mission mode" well her focus on duty was only second to my own.

"---I don't know why you think I would know anything."

Chances are she was telling the truth, but if she happened to be lying it was big. It was a "mission serious" lie. I wasn't going to get anything out of her at the moment and the same goes for Stoppable with her beside him.

I pretended to notice the time. "Well, I won't keep you any longer. You've been very helpful."

"My pleasure" she said.

"If you think of anything I ought to know…." I handed Stoppable my business card. "Give me a call."

Stoppable slipped the card into his pocket. Then he stood up and took Possible's hand in his.

"KP let's dance."

"Sure."

I watched the lovebirds step towards the dance floor hand in hand. It would be sweet if it wasn't just a tad sickening.

Diana suddenly popped up beside me. "They seemed to be doing well…As a couple I mean."

"Why wouldn't they?"

"Don't you read the papers? Society pages? Adrena Lynn's column?"

I shrugged. "Don't have much time for gossip. Besides didn't they put Lynn in jail some time ago?"

I watched Kim Possible move lightly through the shuffle of massed dancers. Her eyes closed, her lips parted, her face turned to Stoppable. Concentrating on the couple I took in everything I could see. He wrapped his arms around her protectively, holding her closely. Yet his face would be ready for any poker game that might break out. It was barely there but I reasoned his guard was still up. Going back to Possible, her red hair swung free against the back of her dark dress and against Stoppable's face. Her right hand clutched tightly at the back of his suit.

"I always find myself wishing the best for this couple. I read their unauthorized biography and I found it to be very sweet."

"Why?" I asked.

"I've always been fond of the childhood friends to "more" scenario, it reminds me of a fairy tale. Don't you think so?"

"I highly doubt it's anything like that." I said.

"Why?"

"Because fairy tale romances are just that, fairy tales. It implies you can be in a perfect relationship with a perfect person. Which is impossible."

She let out a loud breath. "I should have known I'd get such a literal response from you. Granted I know I don't see their relationship behind closed doors, but you can see/feel the love between them.

"Someone once said adolescence is the time in life when girls quit believing in fairy tales and start to believe in love."

"You know you don't have to interpret that line so cynically" Diana proceeded to punch me in the shoulder. And it did more than sting. "Someday you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again."

My attention to this conversation wavered so I went back to Team Possible. Stoppable sweated, and Possible danced with her eyes closed. Still their bodies moved as one.

"What's on your mind?" Diana inquired.

"I don't know."

The reality of the situation was I didn't even know exactly what I was looking at. Maybe it was nothing, maybe it was something.

Judging by the look on her face I must have been too cryptic. But I didn't have time to explain I needed to think.

I started to walk away.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"Little boy's room."

Funny thing happened on my way to the bathroom. I took a left somewhere and found myself heading towards the exit. I was on my way out when someone called out my name. It jarred me a little. I wasn't on any friendly terms with anyone else here.

"Oh." I said when I turned towards the voice.

Elizabeth Director sauntered towards me. Her skin flawless, her cheekbones high, her mouth a seductive curve. The face of a mature woman but her body belonged to a younger woman

She was dynamite. But I wasn't going to mention that.

With my foot tapping lightly against the floor I chuckled softly. "Well if it isn't Judas or should I see Jud-"I."

I was being stared at in a coolly impersonal way, and it burned. "You quit Will, I didn't fire you."

"If that rationalization helps you sleep at night. What I know is you went down like a welcome mat when brass set their sights on me."

"I wonder can anger survive without his irrationality." She didn't move. Her eyes went on watching me. She wet her lips and said. "So you've made your name as a private investigator?"

"You tell me?"

"The G.P.D keeps close tabs on the licensed private investigators. Your name has been coming up a lot lately."

I couldn't help but smile.

"I see you are leaving." She said abruptly. "This party is a good opportunity for you to make powerful friends. Friends who can help you get back on the force."

"Friends like who?"

"Like Mister Nelson, our D.A for one. Even Team Possible could convince---"

I shook my head. "I'm not here for that."

Confusion masked her face. "I know for sure you don't like anyone here. Including your father and excluding your sister….So if you're not here for politics, and I know you are not here for Kim Possible, why are you here?"

"A simple hunch…..about a case"

She grinned. "Working on a hunch? You've changed Will."

"Hunches work sometimes." I countered. "Don't seem so shocked."

""If you find facts follow them. If you have theories, substantiate them." That's a written on the first page of the D.O.I handbook. You held that book closer to your heart than your family Will. I have reason to be shocked."

"Well, I suppose I don't need to follow the handbook anymore."

To me the words sounded unnatural and a bit childish coming out of my mouth. So I could only imagine how it came across to her.

"I suppose" she replied.

I nodded to her. "Some other time then."

"Do you understand?" She asked when I turned away.

"What?"

"You were always troubled by any visible weakness you imagined would hold you back. And you would never give yourself to something unless it helped you prove a point or strengthened your abilities somehow. You've been a private investigator for a few years now, has it helped you understand?"

Understand what? Is what I wanted to ask. But knowing Betty it would have led to more cryptic questions. I didn't have time for that. I nodded once again before walking away.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When I awoke it was to the sound of the phone ringing.

Fingers of gray light had crept through my office window and across the notes on my desk. It was morning, and I had apparently fallen asleep at my desk. I massaged my jaw back into feeling before picking up the phone. I said "hello" and I was immediately assaulted by a string of obscenities.

"Is this Sister Margret my sixth grade teacher?" I inquired.

"You know who it is!" Diana shouted to the relief of my throbbing head.

In between the sailor talk I picked up pieces about how upset my sister was and my father's severe disappointment in not seeing me. She was going on about how inconsiderate I was when I placed the phone down, slid my trench coat on, and headed out the door. I grabbed a newspaper and a bag of peanuts from a newsstand at the end of the block and then started back toward the office. Once back inside I opened the peanuts, sprawled the paper before me, and placed the phone back in my ear.

"….And you never think about anyone but yourself. If you don't fix your attitude you're going to end up lonely and…."

"I get it" I interjected. "I'm sorry for leaving early, I'll apologize to Welta, and I'll even get her a gift."

"What about your father?"

"He's too old for dolls." I said as I skimmed the headlines of the newspaper.

"So is your sister" she told me.

"Touche,"

"Well I hope whatever you had to run to was worth it. Not only did you upset your family but you missed the big announcement."

"You mean Walter Nelson declaring he would run for governor? Or Kim Possible's endorsement of him?"

"Both…but how did you know?"

I knew because it was being screamed at me from the front pages of the Go City Times. This must have all happened right after I had left.

Diana continued to badmouth me, so I sat back and reflected on everything that occurred in the past two days. The life I wanted for myself is a cursed one. You go through life wanting to set things in their place. Sometimes you find yourself following detailed rules that may have no bearing on the real world, or that may in the long run be meaningless. But they work for you and help you put things in order.

It was during these moments that I realized I was meant to walk this path and no other. A major unsolved crime, an unsolved murder; to me it was a story without an ending, a puzzle missing a piece. Disorder in an orderly world.

"Diana what is the unofficial number one rule of being a D.O.I Agent?"

"What? Um rule number one "A detective must never be personally involved in a case."

I closed my eyes. "The second rule?"

"Always observe rule number one. What is this all about?"

I opened my eyes. I was no longer an agent.

"Well Diana it's been great talking to you but I've got to work on my story."

I hung up on her before she could say another word. Starring at my desk I wondered what my next move was. Thinking critically it was worse than stupid to get involved in this case.

The phone rang. I picked up.

"Hello?"

"Will Du?"

I didn't recognize the voice it sounded robotic and tinny. But one thing was for sure the voice seemed to recognize me.

"What can I do for you?"

"You can lay off, Du. Lay off the Fiske case."

"Who is this?"

"A friend, but I won't stay friendly if you keep on this case."

"Is that right?" I sighed.

He hung up.

I held the phone in my hand before laying it back on its cradle. For the longest time I didn't consider myself as a man blessed with true friends, but apparently I was wrong. I had a real friend who cared so much about my well being he was willing to hurt me rather than see me get involved in a troublesome case. It almost brought a tear to my eye.

I picked up the phone again to call Miss Hall and tell her I was going all in on this case. I wasn't exactly sure how I could help her but Lord knows I would try.

A/N Thanks for reading. This is the summer of new. So I'm going to be dumping out my cluttered brain to you guys. Hopefully you'll like it.