Retcon Alert: after a few years being unable to write regularly, I have had time to reflect on this work of mine, and realized that I made everything a little too easy for Ron and Kim. Thus, I decided to try adding drama into their lives, because without adversity, character does not grow.


X-Possible

001: Catalyst


(Retcon Alert: After a few years of being unable to write regularly, I have had time to reflect on this work of mine, and realized that I made everything a little too easy for Ron and Kim. Thus, I decided to try adding drama into their lives, because without adversity, character does not grow.


Monkey Fist Manor

Ron kept reflecting on how he came to be in this situation…


Last May…

"Got a paying hit on the site, artifact retrieval," says the ten-year-old super-genius.

"Really, from whom," Kim asks with interest?

Wade checks his database, "Some British nobleman, he wants you to meet him in Cambodia tomorrow."

"Aw coolio, what's his name Wade, "I ask?

Wade looks up and replies, "Lord Montgomery Fiske, Earl of Lincolnshire."

"You mean Monty Fiske, the archaeologist," Kim asked? She smiles warmly at me, "Who do we know that can give us a ride?"

I return her smile with a grin, knowing just who she means, "To Cambodia… got to be the colonel?"

Long story short we made it to Cambodia, were in the bush for a few hours when we met Fiske, and his servant Bates. It was there I found out about his obsession with… ugh, monkeys! That didn't endear me to Fiske, because right from there, me and old Monte just couldn't see eye to eye. I don't know if his monkey-philia was getting to me, or if it was something else, but I didn't like him from the start. All I know is he was, bad road. The one thing we did agree on was for Kim to do the talking.

Nevertheless, we rescued a priceless artifact from a hidden temple, but that night a ninja stole it. Isn't that just like those damn ninjas? That was back in May, we were paid for the retrieval, which was standard practice. Then the end of our Freshman year came, I was able to bring my average up from a gentleman's C to a cool B. Then, me and Kim, went through GJ/SHIELD Basic Training (GJ/SBT) over the summer, and while we were out of touch, Wade kept digging looking for the jade statue. While he didn't find the jade statue itself, he did discover that it was one part of a set of four jade statues. He relayed that information to us when we got back the last week of August, two days ago.

Unfortunately, Kim couldn't follow up on this information because her parents took her and the boys to visit her mother's family, the Prydes. That's when Wade revealed his latest invention: holograms. He was able to produce a perfect replica of Kim, so convincing it even had me fooled, and I'm her best friend. Wade tried to tempt Kim into using it as a substitute for the family trip. No dice, if there is one thing my KP values more than anything, it's her word of honor. As tempting as it was, which even she admitted, she'd promised her dad some family time, and Kim never breaks a promise. So, she left for her family trip. My mother was home, but dad was away at an actuarial convention. She was watching Rufus while I was away, since I wasn't allowed to bring pets with me to boot camp.

Looking back, I realize how Wade was able to trick me with the Holo-Kim, even though we're best friends, when Kim is in mission mode nothing can distract her, and the Global Justice/SHIELD boot camp and secret agent training program taught us to compartmentalize certain behaviors. Therefore, I never questioned why we never made bodily contact on the ride over to England, I guess I thought she was just in mission-mode, and we would have time to connect after the mission. That was how I found myself running for my life, through the halls of Monkey Fist Manor, with an insane monkey-human hybrid and his rather round servant hot on my trail…


…NOW

"Remember level 9 of Fortress," Kim's cousin Larry asked, as Ron ran for his life within the confines of Lord Montgomery Fiske's Keep? The reason being that the British noble was chasing Ron Stoppable, to silence him so that he may not reveal the owner's secrets. Ron had come here alone, without even his little buddy Rufus to aid him, since the naked mole rat was feeling a little under the weather for the last few days.

Kim, his best friend of fourteen years, had a family engagement with the teenager speaking to him via hologram, one of Wade's newest inventions, with which he had gotten a little carried away. To be fair, when Wade deceived Ron into coming to speak to the lord of the manor, Wade never imagined that Lord Fiske was the bad road Ron thought he was, and since both Kim and Wade believed Fiske was on their side, Wade did not believe he was sending Ron into danger. "No," Ron replied immediately, "wait yes," he amended!

"How is that going to help Larry," Kim asked, almost screaming in panic, as her best friend was put in mortal danger, without any backup, in the background!?

"It's a geek thing," Larry replied with a smile.

"Relax Kim, Lawrence knows what he's talking about, don't you little brother," Kitty asked with a warning in her voice?

"Uh hello, little help here," Ron yelled! Ron was thankful for the last seven-months he had spent training with Rabbi K in Israeli Military Krav Maga, including the three months long SHIELD and Global Justice Basic Training Program (GJ/SBCP), Ron and Kim participated in this summer. If not for those two factors, Ron Stoppable would be dead right now. They were now considered to be Global Justice and SHIELD Independent Contractors, granting them the authority, rights, and privileges of GJ/SHIELD agents without the need to follow the chain of command. They answered only to directors, Dr. Elizabeth J. Director, and Col. Nick Fury, the bonus being that Agent Du could no longer call them amateurs. Since the sitch at Camp Wannaweep, when he saved the entire cheer squad from his old camp nemesis Gill, Ron has made great strides to improve himself. Not just for missions, but for school, and other areas of his life. After some hard work and Ron's own tenacity, though Kim calls it my pigheadedness; tomato, tomăto, he has pulled his grades up from near the bottom to respectable.

Larry continues, "To defeat the level nine Ogre, the hero must drink from his enchanted well." Ron gasped because he immediately understood what Larry was saying. Despite his drive to improve himself, monkeys were still a big – pardon the pun – monkey on his back, that went all the way back to that thrice damned camp. This whole case seemed to be designed to make him confront his fears over simians, and since Bobo was a chimpanzee his fears seemed groundless, such is the way of all irrational fears. So far, Ron had managed to avoid confronting his demons, now what Larry proposes would not only force Ron to confront them, it would put him neck-deep in it.

He wanted to refuse, to find another way, but looking back he saw Monkey Fist gaining on him, and Ron knew what the alternative would be. Ron sighed, "I must become that which I fear most," he said softly. "KP, no matter what happens, know that you are my best friend, and I'll see you at home." First, he had to lose Fiske, and his servant Bates, up ahead on the left they came to a room with a sign above the door that read 'Library,' and made straight for it.

Inside, row upon row of free-standing bookshelves reaching from the floor to almost the ceiling, encompassed by a room the size of a basketball court. Ron did not have time to check the subjects, but he would bet Rufus that the main subjects contained in these tomes were monkey related.


Fiske entered shortly after Ron, leaving Bates outside in case Stoppable evaded his lordship. The lights were on, Fiske and Ron moved through the room quietly, one seeking, the other evading. They listened for any noise, to indicate where the other might be located. Fiske moved down the outside of the shelves, then climbed atop them using his monkey agility. He jumped from stack to stack, which were sturdy and well built, nothing but the best for the Earl of Lincolnshire. Finally, after almost reaching the back shelves, and spotting nothing, Fiske reached the last two stacks, and peered below. There cowering in the middle was one Ronald Stoppable, moving his eyes to try watching in two directions at once. Monkey Fist sneered, Time to die, my monkey-phobic friend.

At the same time Fist dropped, Ron took a running charge at the very first book stack. In addition to combat training, Rabbi Katz, and the GJ/SDI's (Drill Instructors) have been putting Ron through strength and endurance training, and while he would never be huge, he has put on quite a bit of muscle over the last seven months, which translated to power. So, when Ron hit the stacks in the right place they went over like dominoes.

When Fiske reached the ground expecting to cushion his fall with Ron's body, all he felt was the pain of his own body crashing fully onto the floor. Fiske realized in his daze, what happened, "That damnable hologram… again," he screamed! In his anger, he failed to recognize the sound of falling book stacks until it was almost too late. When he did, he began to run and jump as hard and fast as he could, but at the last moment stopped and leapt towards the ever-shrinking gap at the top of the stack. He landed in a heap against the back wall of his library. He was breathing so heavily; he was almost wheezing.

"CRASH!" The sound of ceramics breaking could be heard from the hallway. Upon reaching the scene, Monkey Fist found Bates on the floor alive, but very much out of action for the rest of the evening. Shards of an old vase lay discarded around his servant's form, giving mute testimony to what happened.

Meanwhile, Ron made it back to the room where the monkey idols were standing, waiting. I must become that which I fear the most. Plucking up his courage, he ran into the center of the monkey idols, "Hey, monkey idols," Ron shouted, "Hit me!" A sky-blue beam of light shot out and struck the boy. The light was a mere byproduct, the beam interacted with his DNA, altering certain genes from recessive to dominant, or vice versa. The energy of the idols lifted Ron into the air, about the same height as the jungle canopy, where most monkeys dwell.

"NO, MONKEY POWER WAS TO BE RESERVED FOR ME AND ME ALONE," came a shout of despair from the entrance! Whatever the case, Monkey Fist was too late as he ran into the room. Ron dropped to the floor in a fluid crouch, a wicked grin on his face and devious gleam in his eye.

"Time for some smack monkey," he growled out the challenge, then an unknown cluster of muscle convulsed, SNIKT, SNIKT. Two sets of three four-inch long blades, popped out of Ron's knuckles, "OW, OW," Ron looked at the blades protruding from his knuckles. They reminded him of hunting knives, but they were as black as the depths of space, any light that reflected from it, seemed to scatter around them so that only a silver sheen reached the eye. Ron relaxed the muscles in his arms and the blades retracted into his knuckles, the holes remained open, but they immediately stopped bleeding. He repeated this process a couple of times to get the hang of it, before settling on keeping them out. This may give me an edge over him, he's an experienced martial artist, I've only been studying Krav Maga for six-months. As the Rabbi says, there's no such thing as a fair fight, you win because you have to win.

Monkey Fist was fed up with the little bastard, and all too eager to vent his anger he returned the look with one of his own, "Bring it," he bellowed, dropping into a low stance of his own.

They charged each other and began raining blows upon blows on each other. They seemed to be evenly matched, pulling maneuvers that would seem impossible from the most unlikely angles. The monkey idols, not only modified Ron, and Monkey Fist's cells, they gave them the muscle memories that a master would have, not just of Tai Sheng Pek War, but of all the other monkey-based styles from around the world. That means that they have the same knowledge, and abilities where monkey-based martial arts are concerned. Lord Fiske has been training in the Tai Sheng Pek War since he was a lad, so he gained no new knowledge when it came to the previously mentioned martial arts. He was a master of the art and knew all the tricks, not to mention he had the anatomical features of a monkey, and there are only superficial differences between each martial art style.

Ron Stoppable however has not been training in monkey kung fu, he has trained in the IDF version of Krav Maga, which is an aggressive and brutal fighting style. He gained quite a bit of knowledge when he was hit with Mystical Monkey Power. His mind and body began to synchronize old knowledge with new knowledge. The grace and dexterity of the monkey martial arts were harmonized with the efficiency, and viciousness of Krav Maga. Another major difference between the two combatants: Lord Montgomery Fiske, Earl of Lincolnshire, was a gentleman; Ronald Victor Stoppable was not.

Ron racked Monkey Fist in the balls, before chopping at his neck, and clothes-lining him into the floor. Ron was not finished, stepping around the downed nobleman, he grabbed Fiske by his monkey tail, and with a mighty heave, swung him into the nearest wall. Ron went to check, and sure enough the lord was out cold, very much alive, but out like a candle. There were several cuts along Fiske's face and hands, they were shallow and away from any major blood vessels. Ron stood up, dragging Fist with him back into the center of the monkey-idols. "Monkey idols," he said, his voice cracking with fatigue, "take your power back from us!" He closed his eyes and waited, then waited some more, when nothing happened he amended his request, "Okay, take my monkey-power back!" Again, nothing happened, and he sighed, "I guess, I'm stuck with this Mystical Monkey Power."

Ron called in Global Justice for back up and to take Lord Fiske into custody. Ron filled out a statement, which was corroborated by CCTV and listening devices, Fiske added for security purposes. They saw Fiske lose it, before Ron even began asking questions. The phrase 'jumping the gun' was an understatement, when he revealed everything after a request for information that anyone in their right minds would never construe as interrogative. Ron's statement was taken, he ordered that the parts with his claws be made Need-to-Know and For Director's Eyes only, and only show the beginning parts, when Fiske attacked him without provocation at trial, then he boarded a Global Justice transport and headed home.


Middleton, CO. Home of Ron Stoppable

Ron walked into his house; his mom was home. He walked in through the door and found the living room lights on, and his mother standing there. "Hey mom," he said, grinning, "what are you doing up?"

Vicky looked at her son, then looked him over, "Kimberly called me and told me what happened," she replied calmly. "Your best friend," she smiled approvingly, before returning to her concerned parent face, "wanted to come home tonight, to see if you were alright," she informed her son, "but, she's been away from her family enough this summer, so I convinced her that I could take care of my son, until she got back."

Ron smiled sheepishly, "What can I say, Wade fooled me with the HoloKim," he continued defending Wade, "it wasn't his fault, Monte was a client after all, how could we have known he was the villain in all this?"

Vicky nodded understanding intellectually, that her son was right, "That's true, there was no way Wade could've known about Lord Fiske's involvement," she conceded. She walked over taking his hand, leading him over to the couch, she sat him down and he winced slightly. "Please, lift up your shirt," Ron's mom ordered.

Ron complied meekly, he knew that until she examined him herself, she would not be convinced of his health. Right now, Victoria Raven Stoppable, was not a Major from SHIELD's Intelligence Analysis Division, reporting directly to Colonel Nicholas J. Fury, himself. She was Vicky Stoppable, mom; a force even stronger than the Hulk. Ron's torso is a purple quilt of bruises, which while flabby and feeble in the past, has become lean and muscular, thanks to the drill instructors of SHIELD, Global Justice, and Rabbi Katz. Mrs. Stoppable runs her hands over her son's chest, pressing gently though he still hisses, when she gets to certain tender areas. "How's it feeling Ronnie," she asks?

He grunts, then replies, "Not gonna lie mom," Ron answered, "the first hour or two, it hurt like a mother…," he smiled up at her getting a small smile in return, "now it just stings like a bitch," he said, getting a smack to the back of the head, which just causes him to grin wider, "I think by tomorrow it'll just hurt like hell."

Frustrated with her son's cheekiness, Victoria goes from concerned mother to irate parent, "Fine, if you're not gonna take this seriously, give me a full report on Fiske," she demands. So, he tells her what happened at the manor, he shows her his blades, which astonish her, and brings a sort of smile to her face almost as if to confirm something she has long expected, while she listens to his tale she thinks, Could it be, Logan, it would be just like mother, to insult and demean someone she hated, by giving his child the name of his worst enemy. I wonder how Logan and Laura will handle it? I would be proud to have a little sister like her, would they accept me, I haven't gone through as much as them. Even my worst foster home doesn't compare to what both of them went through, I'm happy just to be considered his friend. Do I need to compound their lives by telling them about me and my son? Vicky comes out of her thoughts, just as Ron finishes his story and could barely stifle his yawns. "Okay mister, that's enough fun for one night, go on up to bed," she gets up to kiss him on the forehead, "see you in the morning."

"Night mom," Ron said, "Love ya."

"Goodnight honey, I love you too," Vicky replied.


Ronald Victor Stoppable's dreams are chaotic. At first his dreams are normal, tacos, nachos, and a cornucopia of Tex-Mex, cheesy goodness. Then they change, they become scenes of battles with unimaginably powerful beings. He is fighting an onslaught of gods and goddesses, by himself or with two other people. He uses a combination of overpowering might, sly, mischievous cunning, and devious, almost ruthless tactics. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in a standing pool of water, he perceives his own face, but it looks more like a…

… Ron sits bolt upright in his bed, with a shout. He is breathing heavily, and the dream remains fresh in his mind as if it was not simply a dream, but a transfer of knowledge. Ron realizes it is morning and like he learned in boot camp over the summer, he gets up and goes about the business of getting ready for the day. It has been three days since the events of what he has come to call, Monkey Fist Manor. I miss you KP, come home soon.


FLASHBACK: Three days ago, …


The day after, he woke up to a surprise, all the bruising from the fight the night before, was completely gone. It was unusual, but not unheard of for some people to heal more quickly than others. "Coolio," Ron said, "now I can do some training without having to fight through the pain!" He trained his usual routines but did not feel the usual burn he normally felt when exercising. I'll add heavier wrist and ankle weights and up the rep count, hmm, I've just started to use the ten-pound weights, guess Boot made me stronger than I thought. Ron replaced the tens with twelves, then began his routine all over again, he felt the burn like normal, and sighed as he continued his normal routine, adding sixty extra repetitions. When he was finished he was satisfied with how his body felt, like it normally would after a good workout. The burn lasted only five seconds before he felt like he had not worked out at all, but he felt stronger. So, he did it again, the same weight, each exercise was done for five minutes each. Push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, chin-ups, etc., he was able to keep up the pace for each drill, then after those calisthenics he went for a run. He did not jog, he ran, sprinted until he began to feel exhausted, at that point he had run ten miles, then he turned around and ran twice as hard back to his house, where he finally felt his body begin to burn like normal. Then he went to his house, fixed himself a high calorie lunch, to replace what he expended. As soon as he finished eating, it happened again, his body felt stronger, yet he felt as if he had not worked out at all today when he knows for sure he has. "What the hell is happening," he yells, his mother was not in, she had to run into work and file the intel, Ron supplied her with the night before!

That night, he began dreaming of battles with gods and goddesses. When he woke, the second day after the Monkey Fist adventure, he felt his mind filled with information. Mostly, the information was about exercising, and he knew what the exercises were meant to do. They were meant to make him stronger and more agile. Back before this summer's training, he would have been foolish and ignored this information, simply because it frightened him. Now, he has learned to be brave, to control his emotions, and accept circumstances beyond his control. Who better to follow advice from than your own mind? Thus, Ron Stoppable, the Middleton Mad Dog, began a course of training that would train him in several martial arts whose movements were based on monkeys.

Later that day he went to see Rabbi Jeremiah Katz, "Good afternoon honored Rabbi," Ron greeted his friend and mentor.

"Hello Ronald," the rabbi returned, greeting his young friend, "welcome back from Great Britain."

"Thanks Rabbi K, it's good to be back, things got a little dicey in merry, old England," Ron supplied.

Rabbi K shook his head, "I have been there, sometimes intel is wrong, or you do not get all of the information you need, missions like this teach you to stay on your toes."

Ron nodded solemnly, looking to the left, lost in thought, "the thing is, I was right about Montgomery Fiske being 'bad road,' yet I don't feel satisfied, or vindicated for calling it." He launched into his tale of Monte Fiske and the monkey idols. The rabbi listened as he steeples his hands and smiled behind them. After finishing his tale Ron concluded with, "Why don't I feel better about being right," he asked? "I am not usually right about this kind of thing, shouldn't I be delighted that for once I was right about something?"

Rabbi JK lowered his hand, he was smiling in admiration at the teen, "Ron, I would never presume to tell anyone how to feel or how to react to life situations," the rabbi began, "however, I do have a theory on why you feel as you do."

Ron perked up upon hearing that his friend had a theory, "I'm all ears, Rabbi."

"Well, first let me ask this, other than your instincts, did you have any proof, or did you ever witness anything to give you reason to believe Fiske was your enemy," Jeremiah Katz asked?

Ron thought back to the first meeting of the not so good lord, with Ron's eidetic memory it was not difficult to do. Ron's eyes went wide, "No, there was nothing, the only reason I thought he was 'bad road,' and the only reason I didn't like him was because of his association with monkeys." Ron looked down feeling so ashamed of himself, he could not believe he acted like his uncle Graydon Creed. Vicky and Tom raised Ron better than this, he feels so disgusted with himself, he thought, I might as well paint a swastika on my forehead!

Rabbi watches the realization wash over his student in not only fighting, but life as well. "There you have it Ronald, the reason you do not feel good for being right about Fiske, is because your enmity for him was based on your prejudice of his life's work," he said. "That you were correct about his character is not only beside the point," Rabbi continued, "it has also exacerbated your guilt subconsciously."

"Oh man, I feel like a major dick, this is worse than going to Camp Wannaweep," Ron exclaimed in disgust at himself.

"Please, calm down Ronald," the rabbi ordered gently, "you are not the first to succumb to the base desire to hate what you fear, most would bottle it up and keep it hidden," Katz said, "or worse, use it as validation for the future. You at least have noticed the anomaly and can now extract it and learn from your mistake. You are also not the only person in this room to let your prejudices run away with you, there have been times where I have used preconceived notions to justify my treatment of other people." Ron's eyes widen in surprise, Rabbi K has always seemed like the last person to let his emotions get the better of him, and Ron says as much. The rabbi shook his head sadly, "I am still human Ronald, and nobody is born wise, though I do not consider myself to be particularly wise, just experienced."

They were quiet for a few minutes, when the rabbi stood, and so did Ron, "let us head to the gym, I want to know what you learned from SHIELD and Global Justice, and how much I have to retrain you after their influence, move out, כֶּלֶב (dog.)"

Ron popped tall, and saluted like American soldiers, "מיד, רבי! (At once Rabbi!), in flawless Hebrew. The two friends spent two full hours doing their very best to kill each other. Ron seemed to be even better than expected, and able to make attacks and defend against them from the most unlikely angles. It was only the Rabbi's Kidon training and experience that kept him from taking more hits than normal. Finally, the rabbi called a halt to the sparring session, he was sweating which was new, because he has never even breathed hard when training with his young friend. "Wow, the boot camp you went to must have been something for you to be able to perform like this, Ronald."

"I'm not gonna front, it was tough, and since there was almost no firearms training, most of the combat they taught us was CQC (Close Quarter Combat), with only passing familiarity with guns." Ron had a private, proud smile on his face, "Kim was the best at that, no surprise there, and I was in the top five of a 25-person class, thanks to you of course, and watching and sparring with Kim all these years."

Rabbi Katz smiled back at Ron acknowledging the praise, "Thank you for the compliment Ronald, it is good to be praised and appreciated occasionally. Now, I should go and rest up for Sabbath in two days, will I see you there?

"Of course, unless there is a mission or a KP slash family emergency, I never miss the Sabbath," Ron said heading for the door with his friend. "I'll see you, Saturday, Rabbi." He said and then walked out.


FLASHBACK END


Today...

Ron takes a shower and goes through his morning rituals, he wipes the mirror off and begins to brush his teeth. He does not notice anything amiss until he looks in the mirror and studies his reflection, specifically the colour of his hair. All of Ron's life his hair has been blonde, the same shade as wheat, today that changed, much of his hair was still blonde, but intermixed were strands of crimson. It was not following any kind of pattern, just a lock here, and a strand there, they simply emerged at the root as a vibrant red. He squinted at it, the red reminded him of some of the pictures his mom showed him of his grandmother, Raven Darkholme.

After finishing in the bathroom, he went downstairs where his mother was cooking breakfast, he sat at the table. One thing Vicky and her son love to do is cook, it is one of the few things they have bonded over. They also took turns on Saturdays and Sundays, alternating between breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Ron was wearing his usual red jersey, black mock turtleneck, tan cargo pants, and white sneakers. The basic training over the summer, and improvements from just after the Gill case, have altered his physique to make them fit just right. Vicky had on a canary-yellow tank-top and tan knee-length shorts, to match well with her own blonde hair, with a brown leather belt and sandals to go with her brown eyes. "Morning Mom," Ron said.

"Good morning Ronnie," she says as she turns to look at him, and pauses, "what did you do to your hair, Ron?"

"Yeah," Ron said, fingering his locks, "they weren't like this when I went to bed last night, you can talk to Rabbi K tomorrow and he should confirm it. I pretty much trained all day yesterday, so I haven't looked in a mirror since yesterday morning."

His mother nodded, her son was many things, but a liar was not one of them. Well, mother has hair like that, but she focused on the other thing he said. "I know you're happy with the results of your training, but it's important to let your body rest after such strenuous activity, especially after what happened Tuesday night," she chastised her son.

Ron nodded, "I wasn't trying to do anything strenuous on Wednesday, I was just going to do a light workout to keep up good habits. I didn't feel like I normally would after a workout, even a light one would have given me some strain if I was doing it right." Vicky nodded in understanding and indicated for him to continue. "I thought maybe, I was just used to the ten-pound ankle and wrist weights, so I upped them to twelve pounds, did the same workout and I did feel the strain after I finished, but for only like ten seconds. Even a light workout should have had me feeling the strain for at least half a day. It wasn't until I upped my reps and did each exercise for five minutes each, then ran twenty miles total that I felt the burn of a full exercise regimen. That was Wednesday, the day after I was struck by some kind of energy, to fight a human-monkey hybrid."

Vicky listened to her son describe the events of the last few days, she was beginning to feel excited. What he was describing sounded like the early stages of a healing factor. When a person exercises they are essentially destroying their bodies, which is where the aches and pains come from after a workout. What he explained to her sounded like his body was healing the damage to his body that a workout causes. I need to talk to Logan as soon as possible. As an orphan this is a dream come true for me, but I don't want to become too pushy, me and Logan have always been friends, I wonder how he'll react to us being family.

Victoria looked at her son, and knew he was thinking the same thing, she smiled, "Honey," she said walking over to kneel in front of him, "no matter what happens you are still my son, and I am still your mother. You know everything I know about my family, who my mother is, who my half-brother is, all I can tell you is no matter what circumstances drove them to be the people they are, the bottom line is, they chose how they wanted to live their lives. "My mother, Raven Darkholme, aka Mystique, I don't know much about her past, but she chose her path in life." Vicky kept her eyes steady upon her son's, so he could see the conviction in her eyes, as she told him her beliefs about her family.

"Mom is a bad person, I won't deny that, but the biggest disgrace to our family, in my eyes, which is the one thing she and I agree upon, is my brother Graydon. The both of us went through hell growing up without parents, in orphanages and foster homes where the foster parents only cared about the money they received from the state. He let his fear and anger turn into hatred. I was angry too, and afraid, but turned it into motivation and determination to do better and make for myself a better life, and to give you a better life than I had growing up." She stood up and gave him a motherly kiss on the forehead, "if you are becoming a mutant, we can't do anything until the mutation fully manifests, so there is no sense in worrying about it until it happens." There was a knock at the door, Victoria stood back up, and returned to the stove, "could you get that dear, breakfast is almost ready?"

Ron stood up saying, "Sure mom," while turning to leave the kitchen, he stopped, turned back, walked to his mother, and enveloped her in a hug from the side, he was even with her height, which was new, but most teenagers especially boys, begin going through growth spurts at some point. He kisses his mother's cheek, "Thank you mom, for being my mother, and for being a mother, I cannot imagine what I would do without you."

Vicky's eyes moisten when he says that, and places her hand on his, "You're welcome, Ronnie, just remember this the next time I ground you for something," she says, as the second knock hits the door, "now scoot along, and answer the door," she orders while swatting his behind.

"Yes ma'am," he says hustling to the door. Ron opens it and at first doesn't see anybody, then lowering his neck he notices a young boy of African descent. He is slender, with curly, dark hair, in the high and tight cut, he is wearing a blue jean jacket, with light blue Masters of the Universe t-shirt, and blue jeans and black sneakers. Ron has seen him before, but cannot seem to place him, until he remembers the context of a view-screen. Ron's eyes widen, as he recognizes his friend, "Wade, is that really you?"


The minivan wove through the nighttime streets of Middleton, Colorado. The vehicle meticulously maintained the speed limit, as the conscientious driver, a middle-aged man with a graying, brown, business-style haircut, used care, and a steady hand to maneuver the vehicle. He was James Timothy Possible, thirty-eight, rocket scientist and senior projects administrator, at the Middleton Space Center. He is an uncomplicated man, with strong values, and an inner strength that many of his friends, and colleagues, as well as the few enemies he has earned, have come to respect. Jim Possible, Sr, has only two loves in his life, science, and his family, the second is far and away more beloved than the first.

Beside him in the passenger seat of the family car, sat his also thirty-eight-year-old, wife of seventeen years, world renowned neurosurgeon, chief of surgery and neurological medicine at Medical City Middleton, Anne Gail Possible (née Pryde). While considered beautiful among her peers, with short-length red hair, blue, wisdom-filled eyes, and pinkish skin, she is a pleasant, perceptive, but firm woman, with a cheerful understanding disposition. Right now, Anne's eyes kept glancing at the side view mirrors of the minivan into the backseat where their children sat quietly awaiting arrival at the family home.

Their precocious sons, James and Timothy, carbon copies of her husband, and looking enough like each other to make some wonder if James T. Possible, might have participated in a cloning experiment sometime in the past, were sitting behind their father. They were uncharacteristically quiet on the car ride home from visiting Anne's brother Carmen Pryde, his wife Theresa, and their two children Katherine, about to return to the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youth in Westchester, New York, and younger son Lawrence. Jim and Tim Possible would normally be chattering nonstop, about science fiction, or whatever invention they were fabricating that would cause the most mayhem. They were quiet out of respect for the teenage girl sitting directly behind their mother.

This teen looked very much like her mother, except her eyes were emerald-green and held an intelligent, yet still naïve mind, with longer hair. She was none other than up and coming teen heroine, Kimberly Anne Possible, who recently began taking on megalomaniacal villains. She was your basic, average teenage girl whose version of volunteer work and an after-school job, included using over a dozen styles of Chinese martial arts, with cheerleader, and gymnastics movements to take on super villains, that were deemed small fry for agencies like SHIELD and Global Justice, but too powerful for the FBI, US Marshals, or other normal law enforcement agencies. As a SHIELD and Global Justice Independent Contractor, she and her partner and best friend, Ronald Victor Stoppable, were just starting to make a difference.

The entire trip from the Prydes' had been a quiet affair. The silence is only punctuated by requests from the tweebs for bathroom breaks and snacks. Kim never left her seat the entire car ride home. Three days ago, Ron went to meet with Lord Monte Fiske, a recent client who commissioned Team Possible to retrieve an ancient simian artifact. This was one of the few gigs for which Team Possible charged a fee, high five figures. They got the monkey idol, which was stolen that same night by a ninja. Fast forward to the summer, Kim and Ron go through a militaristic boot camp and special agent training program, which gives them credentials and would allow them to be considered for missions from SHIELD and Global Justice when the threat is minimal, and they cannot spare the personnel. It's a good thing, after the whole Wannaweep sitch, Ron began training with Rabbi Katz, who was a member of a Kidon unit in Israel in the 70's, or he would not have made it, and who knew constant ridicule, and persecution from bullies, and Mr. Barkin could toughen you up mentally for the mental and emotional torture/conditioning of boot camp?

From the word monkey, Ron and Fiske despised each other, the only thing they agreed upon was to let Kim do the talking between them. Ron always said Fiske was 'bad road,' I dismissed his animosity as him projecting his fears onto Fiske. Since their reputation was on the line, Wade worked over the summer to uncover any information on the idol. Last week Kim and Ron returned from their summer of training. Wade found something on the idols, and the Team decided to talk to Lord Fiske, but it would have to wait until Kim returned from spending time with her mom's family, with cousin Larry; at least Kitty was home from Westchester for the summer, she and I have always gotten along, and were even able to get a good sparring session going, before I heard about the sitch with Ron in England. Somehow, Wade was able to convince Ron with a hologram of Kim to go to England, to question Fiske about the information Wade gathered. Come on, Ron how could you mistake a projection for me, didn't we hug when I showed up to get you? Monte Fiske tried to kill Ron, Kim's best friend in the whole world, she shuddered at the thought. Kim did not even want to think about anything happening to her Ron.

Kim really tore into Wade for tricking Ron into going alone. Fiske might have been a client, but a ninja did steal the idol within hours of the retrieval. Who knows if more were out there targeting Fiske, ninja prefer anonymity, and may have decided to silence Ron to keep the air of mystery? "Whether Fiske was a client or not is beside the point Wade," she remembered shouting at her technical expert, webmaster, and friend on-thin-ice, "the point is you conned one of us! You breached our trust, which almost cost one of us our lives, one little mistake," Kim visibly shivered when she thought about it, "and Ron would have been killed!" Kim looked at her young friend, via the Kimmunicator view-screen to see if he understood the ramifications of his actions. The widening of his eyes indicated he did. Wade may have been a genius with computers and other technical subjects, but he was eleven years old and thought like one. "Now, because Ron was mostly unharmed, I am willing to forgive, if you understand, what Ron, Rufus and I do isn't a video game, we don't get a reset button when we die, we just die."

"Oh my god, Kim," Wade profusely apologized, "I am so sorry, I promise I will never do something like this again, please forgive me!"

Kim hid a smile, between me, Ron, and his parents, we'll raise a fine young man, then she grew stern and looked the little boy in the face, "I accept your apology Wade, and forgive you for the breach of trust, but you owe someone else an apology for risking their lives on an invention," she looked at him pointedly! Kim was not going to say it, because compelled apologies in her opinion were not genuine.

"Ron," Wade asked, to which Kim just nodded with a bright smile? "Okay Kim, I'll talk to him, and apologize."

"Please and thank you, Wade," Kim smiled again, and hit the cancel button closing communications. That was two days ago, when the Possibles decided to cut their vacation short, at the request of their daughter. Ron was okay, according to him, his mother, and Global Justice medical personnel. However, Kim and Anne like most women would not be reassured until they saw, and Kim held him in her arms for a while, and the elder Possible female could examine him herself. The male Possibles were no less worried, Ron was family in all but blood as far as James Possible was concerned, and the tweebs have always seen Ron as an older brother.

The minivan turned on to Maple, the street where they lived. At the third house they pulled into the driveway, Kim had kept her luggage light for this trip, just two suitcases for normal clothes and mission outfits and hygienics, and a garment bag for a dress or two. She had kept her luggage right behind her seat, as soon as the car came to a halt she was economy in motion as she grabbed her luggage, phased through the van door, was at the door to her house faster than rain could fall, then inside, and up the stairs to her room depositing her bags on her bed. Then pressed a button on the back wall of her attic bedroom, this button opened her attic window. It is the window she uses when she is returning from late night missions, and does not want to wake her family. It opens from the exterior using a bio-metric palm-print and retinal scanner.

Kim closed her eyes, in her mind her Ron flashed through various points in their life together and those thoughts relaxed her body, then they snapped open and her eyes were glowing green with reflected light, they were the eyes of a feline, able to change size and shape as she needed. Her body began to change as fine red fur grew all over her, her fingernails grew thicker and became stronger, her teeth grew sharper, her jaw more powerful. Her hands and feet remained largely the same except slits formed from which claws were projected and retracted, and since her feet were bare from kicking off her sandals, there was another set coming from her feet. In this form she went from five feet five inches, to seven feet tall, weighing 115 pounds soaking wet, to 210 pounds, and as strong as ten tigers and could run as fast as a cheetah, but with the endurance of a human marathon runner. Her clothes when she bought them were sprayed with a special compound, developed jointly by Wade and her father, that allowed them to expand and contract when she transformed. Kim could leap from the ground to the height of a four-story building, and leap to the ground from a twenty-story building and walk away without a problem.

Whether she was transformed or not, she could make herself intangible like her cousin Kitty Pryde, she could use all her senses, which are heightened, equal to any cat's. She has no whiskers like a cat, nature is practical and such things would be useless on this organism, but her fingers are just as sensitive as any cat's whiskers. Her hands also contained the bite-force of a jaguar (1,500-psi), which translated to crushing power. Her ears became more like a cat's or a fox's, as well as acute hearing and ranging as high and low in frequency. Kim's physique changed, while the overall shape remained the same, the functionality became more pronounced. She hopped upon the window sill, turned her head, and called back, "I'm going to Ron's house, come there if you feel like it, but I'll be back later," Kim growled out in a deeper voice. Then she leapt from her window, her window closed automatically, as soon as she was through.

Kim is a mutant, a human being, who possesses a genetic trait called an X-gene that allows the mutant to naturally develop superhuman powers, and abilities, and are considered the next stage in human evolution, whether this is true or not is a subject of much debate. Kim keeps her mutation a secret from the public, not out of shame, more out of modesty, only her family and Ron's know about it. To Kim, letting someone know about her mutation, is akin to letting someone know what color her nipples were, or when her period is each month. She gets her X-gene from both sides of her family, her parents are carriers of it and passed it on to her, and possibly her brothers.

Kim Possible reached her top speed of 80 miles per hour, as soon as she landed from her second story bedroom. Ron's house is twenty houses down from hers and on Elm court, a cul-de-sac, his is the only house on the street. Kim smiles ruefully as she runs, Ron knows my time of the month already, and he has even seen my nipples, from all the missions we go on we've had to change into mission clothes, from our normal clothes quite a few times and we didn't always have time to hunt for privacy. Kim's eyes glow like the predators she resembles, the night is as clear to her as daylight. Her ears and sense of smell are as acute as any feline in the wild. She comes to the first house running on all fours, she comes to a brief stop, crouches, and leaps sixty feet high, to the roof of another second story house. She lit upon the roof softly and turns slightly intangible so her weight does not damage any roofing material. Then begins running over the rooftops, making a beeline toward her best friend's house. "I'm coming, Ron," Kim said like a prayer, "please be okay!"