She smiled rather weakly and looked up into the face of the semi-familiar officer of the law. Short-n-pudgy was still holding her arm, and she was beginning to feel like a toddler after a tantrum. She didn't recognize that moron, but this other guy staring at her in amazement… it took her a few moments and a blink to recall the memories. A familiar face. Finally, a familiar face. Then she pulled her arm free—apparently Short-n-pudgy had given up on her—and threw her arms around the cop's neck.
"Brick!" Strange how relieved she sounded. Desperate, even. A sob burst from her throat, and the cop's shoulder was suddenly rather wet. "Omigosh. Brick Flagg! I can't believe it's you!"
"Kim Possible?" he repeated. His voice was dazed, but Kim didn't care. Someone was saying her name, and it wasn't Shego or one of those moronic guards. His hand patted her awkwardly on the back.
She cried all the harder and hugged Brick even more than that. So maybe he wasn't the first Middleton citizen with whom she had wanted a reunion, but darn it, at least he was someone she knew and that had to count for something. And he remembered her! He remembered her! How good it felt to be remembered!
"Kim Possible?" The other cob, the one who had tried to arrest her. The voice was disbelief, and she fought a sudden urge to laugh. "Kimberly Ann Possible? That little girl who was killed all those years back? That's impossible."
The pun was too obvious. "One and the same!" she shouted—mostly into Brick's shoulder, so it did come off as rather muffled.
"I cannot believe this." Brick. "Kim Possible? Hale's right, you're dead!"
Good grief, did she look dead? Was Brick now blind? No, he had been the only one to recognize her! She sniffed, choked back the next sob, and pushed herself away from Brick. Yes, it was Brick Flagg, all right. The hero of the Middleton Mad Dogs. Same face, more or less, after the addition of six years. His hair was shorter. If anything else, the guy had grown another inch or so. And more muscle, it seemed. Still a muscle-head. At least he hadn't gone the infamous post-football physical south. "Brick, I'm not dead. I never was dead." Duh. Had she said that?
He continued to stare at her, slack-jawed, eyes focused in horrified fascination. "How? You… I mean, the funeral was closed-casket, but still!"
She stared back, hands still pressing into his forearms, silently willing him to keep believing, keep him from thinking something stupid.
"You're not a clone, are you?"
She felt sick all over again, but at least the energy stayed this time. "Brick, no, I'm not a clone! It's me! Kim! We went to high school together! Everyone spread rumors I had a crush on you! Would a clone know that?"
"A clone can be taught."
"That's right," Hale said. He did not sound convinced of anything. "Brick, whoever this young lady is, we really gotta take her down to the station."
Brick sighed deeply and ran his hand over his face. This was clearly all too much for him to handle. Too bad. "This is insane. The force has enough on its hands… this cannot be happening."
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to keep calm. "Brick, please! Your first impression was right, please stay with it!"
"Kim Possible." He shook his head and took a deep breath. "You do look like Kim Possible. A lot like Kim Possible."
"That's because I am!" Her voice was beginning to hurt, and it suddenly struck her how crazy she must look.
"You were shot. Fifty-eight times, to be exact."
Either Brick Flagg was making crap up or he had gotten a lot smarter in college. Counting. Almost a laugh. Boy, she needed help. "That was the clone. Look, I don't know everything. But that was not me they buried. I swear."
"Kim Possible was a town hero," Officer Hale said in the irritating voice of the small-town loser cop. "I can't believe anyone would stoop to making this up. It's a sin."
"Shut up, Hale," Brick snapped. Another sigh. "Look, we'll take her down to the station. Do a DNA test. Settle this." Then he swore under his breath before continuing. "Kim?"
Finally. She nodded.
"Kim," he repeated with remaining disbelief. "We're going to take you down to the station. You're not under arrest. We'll just get a blood sample and run it through the machine."
"You don't know my DNA," she muttered.
"We have yours—Kim Possible's—stuff, tons of it. Those brothers of yours insisted we keep it on record. They're such conspiracy theorists."
Tim and Jim. She wanted to cry all over again. Oh, but how they ruled!
And Brick had said "those brothers of yours".
All the energy slid from her as Brick led her to the car.
Kim Possible still thought of herself as princess of the world, didn't she? Running off like that at the butt-crack of dawn—what normal person did something like that? Oh, no! Kim Possible had to prove herself to be the best! Shego squeezed the steering wheel tighter. Freeway was empty, and the machine could really get up on the speed. That girl could still irk her. That was never going to go away, apparently.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror. Damn it all, she was smiling. Well, why not? If Kim Possible still had the audacity to escape, then this horribly risky and probably stupid move had become a little less horribly risky and stupid. This good. This was very good.
Hire someone else, that annoyingly pragmatic voice in her head had kept saying. If you're going to steal that much money, hire anyone else! Hire all the people you want! Don't get the obnoxious girl who has been dead to the world for years! There are plenty who are just as good.
And yet it was so hard to respect someone you didn't know. Besides, if Garrison Wiles could even suspect the kind of backlash he was going to get for releasing Possible, he probably would have doubled her price. Tripled, maybe. Fortunate that people like Wiles always had a price of some sort. Made things that much easier. And one could always get money. What was the adage? Beg, borrow, or steal.
Little Kimmie had all the good connections, anyway.
She told that little voice to knock it off. Kim was the one she needed. No one else had Kim's potential, was in Kim's perfect position.
And her literal position was no doubt Middleton. Not that far. Shego had tossed out all of Wiles' little gadgets, but it wasn't too hard to predict the reactions of an inmate. Kim Possible was in Middleton. Call it feminine intuition. Honestly, the girl could stand to be a little more creative in that department.
Thinking of Middleton… hadn't they been the town with that nasty murder the week back? Too bad, they didn't need Kim's help.
Shego did. As much as she hated to admit it, she had thought long and hard, and she needed Kim's help.
She glanced down at her keychain, the little mini photo frame dangling down. A four year-old boy with bright green eyes.
"Just hang in there, Brexton," she whispered. "It's gonna be okay, baby."
The chairs in the police station were surprisingly comfortable. Maybe Kim should have rebelled once or twice in high school, been the bad guy for once. At least she would have been able to sit in those nice chairs. With random people staring at her. That was really nice. It wasn't exactly all of Middleton, but so far the receptionist, two other cops, and a guy caught stealing a car had paused long enough to stare at her. She didn't have the ability at the moment to stare back, but she could still hear their whispers. Some of them. Maybe they thought she was familiar, maybe they were just trying to figure out what she was in for. But at least they were watching.
Brick and that Hale guy were in the other room, this big ugly glass thing. They were talking—she couldn't hear, but as she didn't care that was all right.
She still wanted to know when it had become standard for most police stations to have instant DNA identification systems. What else had she missed?
She was so tired, but her heart was pounding. And she was angry. Since when did she have to give a blood sample to prove her identity? She pulled the blanket Brick had given her tighter and took another sip of the chocolate. That was the usual treatment for trauma victims, but Brick apparently was under the impression everyone brought in needed that. Well, he hadn't said that, but she didn't see any other reason for it. But the chocolate was good. She couldn't complain about chocolate.
Though she would have preferred a phone call to her parents or Ron infinitely more.
What were they doing right now? Distressing themselves over her? The tweebs apparently doubted her death on some level, thank goodness. She couldn't call them the tweebs anymore. Jim and Tim. James and Timothy. Her brothers. Her wonderful, wonderful brothers. Surely Ron wouldn't have been any different.
She had to see Ron. She had to see him now. She had to see Ron and her family and Monique and… she put her hand to her head. I am so not prepared for this.
What exactly was she supposed to do? Saunter into her house? Just randomly call them up? Hey folks, I'm alive.
She was going to need a plan.
The door opened, and Brick stepped out. He was doing his best not to look at her as he ran his fingers through his blonde hair.
Kim set her cup of chocolate down on the seat next to her. "Well?"
His gaze dropped immediately to the floor. "We still can't rule out the evil clone possibility. DNA is only DNA."
Oh, he was so going to get it!
But then he forced the most pathetic of smiles, and she realized he was attempting a joke. "Kim, this is unbelievable. This is like a miracle."
"So you believe me?"
He shrugged. "I guess I have to. But, I mean… Kim, what the hell happened?"
That was the same question she had been asking herself. She quickly took another sip of chocolate. It almost spilled. "I don't really know. There was this man, Garrison Wiles. Rich scum kind of guy. I don't know much about him. Mob connections, money laundering, stuff like that, maybe. I put him in jail once upon a time, but I guess he skipped on bail and… well, he locked me up, apparently managed to clone me—and I swear I'm the real thing—and I guess that's the body everyone found." It was horrible to hear the words straight from her own mouth.
"But you're out. You're here. Did you escape? Well, of course you escaped, you're Kim Possible."
She choked on a laugh. "I wish. Listen, Brick… I just want to see my family and friends. Please."
Brick bit his lip. "Uh, you do realize they think you're dead."
"Like that hasn't crossed my mind. That's precisely why I need to see them."
"Hmm. And how exactly do you plan on revealing yourself?"
She moaned and let her head fall into her hands. "I don't know. But I guess there is no easy way of doing it."
"Damn right. I practically had a heart attack when I saw you." He moved the mug and sat down next to her. "Listen… how about I call your parents and tell them I need them to come down to the station. I won't tell them about you, but…"
Sounded as good as any other plan. She nodded.
Brick stood up and walked to the desk. Kim didn't watch, but she could hear the click of his fingers against the phone keys. A pause for a few rings and…
"Hey! Mrs. Dr. Possible? It's Officer Brick Flagg down at the station…. Yeah, the football player, that's me…"
Her mom. Brick was talking to her mom at this very moment. Her mother was on the other end of that phone.
"Yeah, well, I'm actually calling to see if you could do us a favor… we have some more photos with a heck more of clarity, and we would appreciate it if you would have a look at them…. Oh, yeah. Totally. I mean, if you're doing errands, bring him along. I was actually going to ask you to bring him as well. Why? Well, I really can't say over the phone… all right, thank-you, Mrs. Possible. I'll see you in a few."
The phone call was over.
Kim watched Brick as he made his way back to the chairs. She expected him to look pleased with himself, but he still looked as stunned as ever.
"I talked to your mom," he said slowly. "She and your dad are on their way."
She realized suddenly that she had been holding her breath. She gasped, and her chest erupted in pain. "Brick, thank-you so much. I just… what am I supposed to say?"
"Well, I like to think they'll be happy to see you alive."
She smiled. That was true. This was going to be a very happy moment. "So you just made up a story about some photos?"
Brick shook his head. "Nah, I'm not creative enough to do that. We really do have photos. There was this murder about a week ago… they didn't put me on it, I'm too new."
A murder. That was supposed to be horrible, wasn't it? And yet she wasn't feeling a thing in that regard. "Brick… do you think you could call Ron Stoppable?"
A slow smile spread over his face. It was nice to see someone smiling. "Well, he's in Upperton right now, I think. I almost forgot about you two. The junior prom and all that. Well, it was your junior prom and I just took Bonnie Rockweller… dude, I can't believe I'm going all back to discussing high school! Anyway, maybe you and your folks should decide how to contact Ron."
"I want to see Ron." He was probably right, though.
"And I'm sure you will. I mean, I don't even know where your brothers are right now. Some dig, I think."
"Thanks for getting my parents." All she could feel was an anticipation that would have thrown her from her chair if she were not so fatigued. She had to say something else. She couldn't just sit here. If she talked, it would be almost normal. And if she thought about her parents showing up, she would scream. "So… you're doing the cop thing now." Hooray for small talk.
He nodded, apparently thinking the same thing. "Yeah. It's pretty good. Really didn't know what else to do. I spent like three more years at the high school than I was supposed to, but LCC still gave me the football scholarship. I took a few crime prevention classes."
Interesting. When were her parents going to come? "Criminal justice major?"
"Not really. Minor. I actually got my bachelor's degree in recreation. Still don't know how I pulled that off. Then I sort of wound up at the police academy. But it's fun. I like it." He paused, staring into the glass room. Hale was furiously scribbling over some paperwork. "Sorry. I talk too much."
"It's okay." She needed someone to talk. If no one talked, she would scream. "So… there was a murder?" She knew she should be at least intrigued by that, but she just wasn't.
"Yeah." He scratched the back of his neck. "Pretty gruesome and all that. She was in your year. A cheerleader. I think she became a nurse at the hospital. Tara Archer. They just found her in her living room." He gave a dry laugh. "And they say nothing interesting happens in Middleton."
