So Ron decided to repeat the message. Clearly something had been lost in the translation because he could not think of a single lousy reason why anyone would balk at the concept that Kimberly Anne Possible was in fact and miraculously alive. Aside from his own person issue, of course, but that was indeed personal and he was sadly the only person on the face of the planet who had to deal with it. But Wade… true, they hadn't kept in touch, but he had always liked Kim. He had practically been traumatized by her supposed death. This was supposed to be good news! Happy news! "Wade, hello? She's alive. Kim. Kim Possible. You remember her, I hope." Hopefully he had not been so traumatized he had blocked out every memory of Kim. That would just be eerie. Especially since he had just mentioned her.
Wade slowly nodded, though the terror did not leave his face. It was a strange expression, made more so by the fact that Ron hadn't seem him in six years. It was horror, surprise, and something else that Ron could not quite place. "Yes," Wade finally said in a voice barely audible. "I heard you the first time."
An awkward silence ensued. Ron hated awkward silences. Hadn't he all but jumped for joy? What was the kid's problem? It was Kim. Kim Possible. She was alive and the entire world was supposed to be celebrating. Why wasn't Wade?
"Okay, so you heard me," Ron continued slowly. A child genius now a teenager. He was not quite sure with who he was dealing. He was in engineering, not psychology. "But did you comprehend?"
Wade nodded again. Now he just looked sick, but at least he was managing a smile. But it was directed at the blow torch, which he fingered before setting down. "Yes. Kim is alive. She's not dead. That's… wonderful."
Oddly enough, he sounded sincere, if sincerity could incorporate both words defined as cheerful and the chords of misery. Ron was not sure whether to smile and accept the words as words or bash Wade over the head. "You don't sound like it's wonderful."
"I'm happy." The smile was not sticking. "Trust me, Ron, I couldn't be happier. Really. I promise."
"You still don't look it."
"Sorry. I don't know if I can smile right now. But it's wonderful. I'm so happy she's alive. In fact, if I found out this was some kind of sick prank, I would probably kill you right now. I still make weapons in my spare time."
Well, it sort of sounded like the old Wade.
Wade forced a rather sheepish smile. "I guess it's still kind of a shock for me. You just told me. Could you… could you just give me a minute to let it sink in? I promise. I'm thrilled. This is the best news I've had all day."
Ron was not so sure. He could not see a single glimmer of joy whatsoever in Wade's expression. "Wade, is something wrong?"
Wade shook his head.
"Are you sure?" Or maybe Ron was just paranoid. It was a little uncomfortable to stand there in the doorway.
"Everything's fine." He did not sound fine. He bit his lip. His eyes refused to meet Ron's.
No, Ron was not a psychology major, but he had developed some abilities of people-reading. "Wade, are you sure you're okay?"
Wade once more shook his head—in conjunction with an unwilling "Maybe you should come in."
Ron followed him into the apartment. Despite his uncharacteristic intuition that something was wrong, he could not help but feel comfortable in the apartment. It looked like it belonged to college kids… or college-aged, or whatever. Posters, fast food garbage, odd scientific tools that Ron would never recognize if his life depended on it. A video game console was hooked up to the television. No, four different consoles were. The couch was tragically ratty, but cozy in appearance. Along with that was a rag-tag assortment of beanbags and kitchen stools. Sweet.
"It's kind of a mess in here," Wade said apologetically, gesturing broadly at the furniture. "We really don't…"
"Wade, it's fine." Ron plopped into a yellow beanbag chair and sighed. "So. I guess you want to talk? About this? Just plain catch up?"
"Um…"
"Ah, yeah. You probably want to hear the details on Kim. It's kind of a…" He took a deep breath. Wow, he was so not prepared for this after all. He had not yet really repeated it to anyone. "It's kind of a interesting story. Really interesting."
"Yeah." It was an agreement. Not a hint of a question.
Ron raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
Wade had not yet taken a seat. He stood by the television, clutching one dangling arm to his side. He still was not making eye contact. "Yeah. I mean… just tell me what happened."
Something was horribly wrong here. Ron was not dense enough to ignore that fact. But he could not figure out anything beyond general foreboding. "We all thought… we all thought Kim was murdered back then."
Wade gave a faint nod.
"Well, it wasn't her."
Wade's head jerked up.
"It was a clone. Yeah, really weird. But… but I know this is her now. She had been captured while they shot up the clone. So we all thought she was dead. I guess so no one go looking after her." He felt a momentary twinge of guilt over why he could not have figured out the difference and come after her. "His name was Garrison Wiles. He was a money launderer we caught before. I don't know if you remember."
Wade shook his head. "Not that name."
"Anyway, Shego freed her. And she's out. She's back. I figured you might want to know. That's why I came by." Part of the reason. It had to be paranoia, after all that Kim had told him.
"That's good." Wade was still making no effort to speak loudly.
Ron closed his eyes. This could be so many things, this awful feeling he had. Indigestion. Physical results of all these crazy emotions. Kim's worry about Wade… He opened his eyes and stared so hard at Wade that the kid was forced to make eye contact. "Wade, do you already know something about this?"
It was deer-in-the-headlights, plain and simple. Wade stumbled back into a kitchen stool. "Ron, what are you saying? Are you accusing me of something?"
"I don't know. Am I?" Ron stood up from the beanbag chair. He was not sure what he was about to do; he was speaking one word at a time, thinking one thought at a time, and most of those thoughts were copies of the same one, that this was pure insanity. "Did you do anything that requires an accusation?"
Wade looked like he was going to be very, very sick.
"What's the matter?" Ron heard his voice demand via near-scream. That Alex kid was probably going to hear everything and run in to save his roommate. Well, if need be, Ron would kill him to if that's what it came down to. "What happened?"
"It was an accident!" Wade shouted back.
Immediately Ron's mind went blank. For a long time he could not speak. "What?"
Wade was breathing hard now, practically hyperventilating. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest. "It was an accident." His voice was not much more than a whisper, but at least he was finally audible. "It was not supposed to happen the way it did. I was going to warn her, and then everything went wrong."
"What did you do? She told me that she's worried you set her up."
He did not deny it. He was once more staring at the floor. "I didn't mean to."
A chill ran down Ron's spine. "So you did it? You set her up?" He almost fell back into the beanbag chair. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation." His hands clenched themselves into fists. Keep listening, he told himself. Keep listening. This is for Kim.
If it was indeed for Kim he should kill Wade right then and there.
"I'm so sorry," Wade whispered. "I am so, so sorry, and I know you probably don't believe me, but I am. I've had to live with it every freaking day."
Ron's body was torn between revenge and the urge to collapse. "What did you do?"
"I lied. I knew who Garrison Wiles was. I remember him just fine. I saw this ad on the web—"
"Garrison Wiles put out the want ad for Kim?"
"No. It was someone else. Darren Sharp. He was looking for Kim. He's the one that was offering a money reward for her."
"You sold her out for money?"
"No!" No more whisper. "I gave nothing to Darren Sharp. Darren Sharp thinks she's dead, just like everyone else It was Wiles. And Drakken. I just…" Wade took a deep breath. "I just gave her position."
Ron's body made a decision. In a flash he was at Wade, fist crushing against his nose. Warm blood sprayed everywhere.
"Ron!"
But Ron could not listen. He threw his fist again. He had never really wanted to kill anyone before. Except for Kim's killer. This was close enough. Wade. Who had just been a little kid the last time Ron had seen him. It was impossible, but it was real and it was the worst kind of betrayal Ron had ever experienced.
Before he could throw a third punch, something buzzing flooded through his body. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was Wade's furious, blood-soaked glaring down at him.
"You weren't supposed to be involved with the Archer case," the chief said. Sternly. Oh, yes. Brick knew the meaning of the word stern. "You don't have the experience or the ranking for this kind of murder profile."
"Yes sir," Brick said demurely. "I understand." Hell, he understood. He was probably going to be put on probation, at the very least, for this mess.
"I'm not sure why you haven't been punished already."
"I'm the one who caught the bastard breaking in," Brick muttered under his breath.
The chief froze in his slow pacing circle around Brick. "What was that, Flagg?"
Better judgment told him to deny everything, but then again Brick had never been one for better judgment. "I just said that the bastard, who was clearly involved in this case, broke in and I'm the one that caught him."
The chief remained frozen.
Bad move, Brick thought. He really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut at crucial moments like these.
"True," the chief finally said. "I'll grant you that. It was damn lucky you were there, and excuse me for being the old fashioned sort that lets the ends justify the means."
Was this going to be good or bad? It was impossible to tell with upper division.
The chief turned face-on to Brick. "That does not change the fact that we now have some dead kid down at the morgue. A kid that decided to commit suicide because you questioned him."
"I didn't torture him or anything, if that's what you mean."
"No, that's not what I mean. Don't be an ass. It means that he was seriously involved in this case and that's way too much for you to handle, Flagg. Do you understand? It means that this case is much more interesting than we thought. And it's hard to get much more interesting that decapitation."
Brick sighed. "She was a real person, sir."
"Yeah. Whatever." He resumed his pacing. "It's still very, very interesting. It's probably the best lead we've had on this case. Or it would be if the kid had remained alive."
Now Brick was just getting bored. "My punishment, sir?"
"I told you my policy. However, other people would rather see you thrown off the force."
Brick gulped.
"However, you were working in conjecture with Kim Possible, bless her undead heart. That will be taken into consideration. There's also the fact that we have had a request to bring you onto this case."
"What? From who?"
"I am not at liberty to give that information, but mostly it's because it has absolutely nothing to do with you. Besides the fact that you were requested. But it's none of your damn business. You're involved, you're on it, congratulations, son. But don't let it go to your head."
Brick almost saluted. But that would have just meant trouble. "Yes, sir. Thank-you sir." Inside he was jumping for joy. It was almost like making a touchdown. Except better. Wow, he was growing up.
"You will be working with Kim Possible," the chief continued. "Apparently she is somehow connected to all of this."
The note. The old cheerleading pictures. Brick nodded. "Yes, sir."
"That will be all, Flagg."
Brick left the office in a flurry of emotions. Which was odd. He had always prided himself on being fairly manly and not being subject to emotions. It had been confusing enough in that department when Kim had popped back up from the supposed dead. Now that was a case on which people should be working. Kim's murder case had not yet gone cold, had it?
Kim's murder. Tara's murder. Brick made his way to his desk, successfully ignoring the whispers wondering if he had been canned or not. Two murder questions jumping out so close together. Except for the span of several years, of course, but Kim's reappearance… In high school he had not been known for thinking, but that did not mean he was dumb. The murders, or the murder and the supposed murder… they had to be connected.
Or maybe that was just wishful thinking and pride going to his head. Calm down, he told himself. Think.
But he was thinking. The note about Kim Possible. Old cheer squad photographs. It was evidence, sort of. Maybe not hard evidence. But it sure as hell was suspicious. Maybe he was just having a hunch. Wow. His first hunch as a sort-of detective—he highly doubted he had been officially promoted.
He was getting pretty darn sure that Tara had known Kim was alive.
But how?
Kim was already waiting at his desk. Still waiting for coffee. He put on his best smile and said hello. "I guess we're officially working together now on Tara's murder. Did you put in a good word for me?"
She looked glum. She was leaning back in his chair, staring at nothing. "I haven't put in a good word for anyone. In fact, Brick, I really don't care about Tara anymore. I know that sounds absolutely heartless of me, but I don't. I just… can't. I'm selfish and I care more about my own murder right now."
He nodded. "I guess I can't really blame you."
"Thanks." She sighed. "My life is completely ruined. Ruined."
"I can understand that." Good job. Way to be empathetic.
"I know I should help you with Tara. I know I should. But I can't. I have so much on my plate right now."
"Hang on." Brick put his hand on her shoulder. It felt a little weird, but so be it. "I thought you desperately needed this case or something."
She shrugged. "I thought I did. But I really don't feel like Kim Possible anymore. I don't think I can help anyone until I'm her again. I want my life back. Like it was before."
"Is this about Stoppable and Monique?"
She nodded, then blushed. "And everything. Everything is so wrong. And I feel like it shouldn't be this way. I'm free. I should be happy. But instead I feel like I'm in an even worse prison."
Wow. He had absolutely no idea how to respond to that. "I'm… I'm sorry."
"Thanks for listening." She stood up. "Sorry to steal your desk and sorry to back out on you. Good luck with that. Now take me to get some coffee."
"What are you going to do?"
She shrugged again. For a very strange moment Brick was reminded of Daniel Sprague. "I think I'll kill the people that did this to me."
He wasn't sure if she were kidding. He wasn't sure he blamed her.
They went to a little coffee shop that had sprung out of nowhere a few months before. Little shops trying to be hip and low-key, however all that fit together. They took their orders and sat at a table in the corner. They were silent. There did not seem to be a whole lot to say to each other after Kim's little spill back at the station.
"This is good coffee," Kim finally said. "I haven't had coffee in years."
"So you said earlier," he replied. His head was still spinning. "It's helping with my headache. Sort of."
She forced a tiny laugh. "Last night. It seems so long ago."
"You should probably get some sleep, Kim."
"I don't want sleep. I've had enough. I'll get more when I need it." She sighed. "I don't know why I have this need to spill everything to you, Brick. It's not like we ever dated."
"Except for that one rumor."
"Oh, yeah." Her laugh sounded more authentic this time. Maybe she was coming around. "The only guy I ever really dated was Ron and… I'm sorry. This is probably the sort of stuff I should be sharing with girlfriends. If I had any."
"I don't mind. Talk away." He really didn't. He liked to think of himself as fairly laid-back. "We should have done this earlier, if I hadn't been called away."
"You're fine. I just… I just really miss Ron."
"So he's still going to marry Monique?"
She nodded. She seemed too weak to cry. Good. Brick hated tears. "Apparently. Apparently he loves her more than me."
"Come on. He doesn't hate you. Ron's a good guy."
"He's the best." Still no tears. "He's wonderful. And Monique's wonderful, too. I love them both. I just don't understand why they have to love each other."
"Well…." He hated to state the obvious. "You were dead."
"Death shouldn't stop true love."
"It doesn't. It just changes it."
She stared at him. "Wow. Poetic."
"Was that sarcasm?"
"I'm not sure." She sighed and took another sip of coffee. "Mm. This is good. I really miss him, Brick. It's like… it's like it was almost better back there because then I at least had hope. I could at least hope he was waiting for me, trying to find me."
"I think he did everything he could. Remember, you were dead." He probably should stop saying that before she exploded at him.
"That is what is making everything so confusing. What should I do?"
It was his turn to shrug. "I'm sorry. I haven't had a serious girlfriend since college. I don't know these things. Come on. You were the one who just threatened to kill people."
She glared at him. "I'm not going to kill Ron. I would never kill Ron."
Okay, bad thing to say. "I was only joking."
"It wasn't very funny."
Just then, his phone rang. The number from before. He must have looked surprised, judging from the way Kim was looking at him. "I have to take this," he said. He picked it up tentatively, wondering if the phone would somehow bite him. "Hello?"
"Me again!" It was the female voice from earlier. "I didn't want you to wait long. Are you ready to talk?"
In a coffee shop over a cell phone? "Where?"
"Behind the old park. I'll find you. Come alone, unless Kim wants to come."
"Kim?" he echoed.
Kim was now definitely watching.
"Word's getting around. I promise, she will be as safe as you and I can make her. Come quick." The call ended.
"Who was that?" Kim asked.
"No idea," he replied. "No idea. But she knows about you. She… invited you to come. I'm meeting her."
She did not say anything. But she did look tempted.
"If you still want to work with me. It also involves you."
She nodded. Good. There was still some Kim Possible in there yet. Or at least a vigilante. "Okay."
Professor Jackson Sharp sat at his computer, looking over project reports, email, and all at once. He had a skill for multitasking. It was also a good mental distraction. He wasn't sure what, but something was wrong.
Finally, one email caught his eye. From Wade.
"Of course I didn't give the codes for the bunker. Trust me."
Jackson still did not know all the details. Who had asked Wade for the codes?
It had been months since Brick had been to the old Middleton Park. A wind had picked up, and it was clear that rain was in the air. A few old people were walking their dogs, but otherwise the park was empty. He and Kim silently walked through heading toward where the park melted into the woods.
Someone stood there. A woman in a blue hood.
"You called?" Brick asked as he approached her.
"Yes."
Kim gasped before the woman even took off her hood.
It was so easy to find addresses in this city. Lowerton, Middleton, and Upperton all desperately needed better security. Everywhere.
Shego stared up at the apartment building, smiling even though her heart had once again tumbled into a million little pieces. Nice place. Not as nice as hers, of course. No where near.
That little brat was going to pay for lying to her. Pay with his life.
