Kim and Ron walk alongside each other in silence. It's dark out, so really, this is like, not safe. At all. This is stupid. She hopes he doesn't try anything, she doesn't want anyone to know that she chose to walk with him.

At least by keeping him in public, he can't hit her without starting a scene. He doesn't have the guts.

The snow crunches under her boots. She should've worn a hat. The flakes are melting in her hair.

"So," Ron sighs. "Um. I don't really know how to approach this."

"Yeah," Kim says gruffly. "It's hard to talk about."

"You wanna stop walking for a second?"

She eyes him and shakes her head, continuing to walk. "I feel like a bad guy."

He raises an eyebrow. "Because you killed someone who was trying to kill you?"

She narrows her eyes. "If you're going to give me shit, I'm going home."

"Fine," he snorts.

"This kinda job I just did," she has to keep casting lines out to figure out how to describe things. "It's not… my normal." She groans, digging her gloves deeper into her pockets. "It's not what I do."

This is ridiculous, why should she care what Ron thinks of her?

"Oh?"

"Yeah, usually I'm doing things that are like, helpful, for society," Kim knows that sounds so stupid, but what else is she supposed to say? "That was a mob hit, some kinda clean-up from an old job someone never finished. And they're upset with me now because I only killed one guy, and I wasn't even planning on that."

Ron stops in place, and she groans, digging her gloves deep into her coat to turn around to face him, jittering in place.

"That sucks," is all Ron says, and that actually feels really reassuring. She hates when people give her advice, unless she asks for it, that is. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. Must've been traumatizing for you."

Kim nods, hugging her chest, teeth chattering.

"You know, I can heat you up, if you want," Ron says.

Kim eyes him suspiciously; she doesn't like the sound of that. Warming Kim up is something Shego does, and she only does it because they're dating. Having Ron do that for her just feels… gross. "No, I'll be fine."

"Whatever," he rolls his eyes, shifting back into a walk. "I wanna pick up some snackage. There a Bueno Nacho out here?"

"It's New York City," her mouth drifts into a smile without her realizing.

His drawl shifts into a smirk when he looks back to her. "Okay, fair point. But where is it?"

"Around the corner, I kept us near one in case you asked," Kim shakes her head. Ten minutes later, they're sitting across each other, eating steaming hot, oily food. Kim actually makes more of a mess than Ron does, licking the juices off her fingers.

"I, uh, don't eat out much," Kim explains. "So like, this is a big deal for me. You get like, double portions when you eat out."

"Yeah," Ron smirks, dipping his chips into like three different containers. Man knows what he likes. "Hey, um, I'm sorry for a lot of things, KP."

God, she knew he'd pull this shit. She feels so dumb for letting him—

"Tonight though, I'll just apologize for one thing, I know it'll take time to heal and stuff," Ron bows his head, and Kim feels herself softening like she always does when she's in one of her cycles. "I'm sorry for killing people behind your back in that gap year. I wasn't thinking of how it made you look, or how, just, not okay it was. You let me do missions because you trusted me and I violated that."

Kim isn't really sure what to say to that. It's so long ago now, it's not really something she's focused on. She shrugs, and murmurs a quiet acceptance of his apology. She'd hate to be petty.

Ron winces and looks back at his food, probably regretting he brought it up. She already regrets accepting that apology, but she doesn't want to take it back either. She feels bad.

This is Ron's playbook though. This is how he manipulates her.

She really needs to change the subject before this falls into their usual pattern. "So," she starts, not exactly knowing where this is going. "Have you been working on any solutions for your Monkey problem?"

Ron blinks a few times, like he doesn't know what she's talking about. Of course he didn't work on it like she asked him to.

"Um, honestly, KP," Ron pales a shade. "It's sorta hard. What you're asking for is huge—like, if I did this—it'd be a big deal for Yamanouchi. Because y'know, I'm intertwined in this dumb prophecy and shit."

"So you're just going to give up?" Kim snaps.

"Whoa, whoa!" Ron throws his hands up. "Let me finish. Geez, Kim. Jumping down my throat like—sorry, I'm being an asshole." He itches the back of his neck and looks away. "I'm trying to tell you that Sensei isn't going to tell us shit, it's not in his interests to let me blow up my own powers. I doubt there's anything at Yamanouchi that can help us."

Kim's face falls. "Oh. I didn't think of that."

"It's cool," Ron shrugs. "Not exactly your scene."

Ron stays very still, and Kim groans, because she's too good at reading him: he has a great idea, he just wants her to ask him about it.

"Keep talking, Ron," she shakes her head with a smile, not knowing why these classic Ron-isms are making her happy. Isn't that fucked up?

"Okay, so," Ron splays his hands out. Damn, he's really excited about this. "Monkey Fist."

Kim waits for him to explain, and then he doesn't, so she nods. "That's all you got?"

"Yeah," he grins, so pleased with himself.

She sighs. "Okay I'll bite, you think he'd know? Seems to me like he's throwing spaghetti at the wall to steal your shit, his last caper wasn't going to work, I can promise you that."

"Well," Ron folds his arms behind his head. "He's the dude who wants my powers, I'm sure he's researched the Hell out of it. He could at least tell us what to not do."

Kim thinks about that. She probably has leverage over Fiske somehow, even though he's been safely returned home in exchange for all the intel he squealed on. She could hypothetically go talk to him and get some details.

"So basically, you'd go to him," Ron gestures wildly with his hands now. "Tell him, like, you want my powers, pretend to be an evil horrible scary villain, and ask him how to do it. And then make a deal or whatever."

Kim raises an eyebrow. "You know, I can't just—like—make a deal out of thin air. Also I'm not evil."

Ron just crosses his arms, looking awful smug. He raises his eyebrows.

"I guess I'm an assassin now, cool… and I could probably make something work," she flashes a smile. "So you're taking me seriously then?"

He folds his elbows onto the table and leans in, head bouncing along. "Oh yeah, these powers have messed me up and… I'd like to get better. And this is step one right, heh heh?"

Part of her feels so guilty for doing this with him today. It's not okay. He hurt her, they should never speak again. But she can't deny the lightness in her chest, and she undeniably sleeps better than night too.

She just needs to be more clear about boundaries next time. Set some rules to follow.

Montgomery Fiske is based out in London nowadays, so flying out just to talk to him with the chance that he might know something isn't going to fly. Maybe when she was a kid and people threw money at her, but not anymore. Not when she needs to work to be discreet . Plus, Hank would never give her that kind of budget.

So Kim does what any millennial would do — she sends Fiske a vague Google Calendar invite. Guy really needs to take his Gmail off his Linkedin. Fiske promptly emails her back with a simple ?

Kim says nothing, casting her bait. A few days later when it's time to talk, she ends up on the Google Hangout to find him waiting for her, having arrived a few minutes early. Definitely not what she expected, she put pretty little thought into this, tossing a blazer over her pastel purple pajama top, taking the call in the living room. She's pretty sure no one is home, and this will likely be brief.

"Kim Possible," he snorts with so much frustration. "What could you possibly want from me? Have I not given enough?"

"Not really," Kim says. "I want to do a thought exercise with you, and you're going to help me."

He flashes her a dark look and shakes his head. "I'll help you— if you answer a question of my own."

She doesn't really have a choice, so she agrees to those conditions.

"Good," Fiske coos. "I noticed in your portrayal of Stoppable, he was quite rude and aggressive. Far unlike the boy I knew long ago."

She sighs and leans back. "Don't try to tell me you weren't tricked, I had you hook, line, and—"

"Ah ah ah!" he interrupts, voice almost knocking into the high pitched wail of a monkey embarrassingly enough. "Ahem, leftover of my primate days—no, I was duped I assure you. My assumption was that Stoppable had become corrupted by his phenomenal powers. Now, for my question."

He pauses and lets that all sink in for her.

"You didn't need to portray him like that," Fiske offers a limp wrist. "You could have made him as stupid and gullible as I've always seen, but you played him mean… for a reason, I suppose."

Kim keeps her jaw clamped tight. He's completely right, she didn't have to do that. It's just, that's the Ron that haunted her, the one that erased the boy she fell in love with and was so close with. She could never play the old Ron, or else she might fall in love with him all over again. But she can't tell Monty that.

"My, this is difficult for you," Fiske chortles. "How about this then? You two obviously are separated, and I happened to notice that when you revealed yourself, you had a black eye. And I know you hadn't seen combat before our caper together."

Kim says nothing, skin prickling all over.

Fiske smirks. "Very well, I must be correct then. I apologize if that's triggering for you, I'm glad you're staying away from him. We may proceed."

Kim nods gently, restraining her emotions to the best of her ability. She thinks she does relatively well. On the fly, she decides to nix the thought exercise motif, he's going to see right through it. It's better to be honest. Unfortunately.

"I need to stop Ron. This isn't a thought exercise anymore, he's… dangerous—"

"—but you won't kill him, will you?"

She hates how good he is at reading her. "—yes. I probably should, but I'm starting with the Mystical Monkey Powers. I want to take them away. How would I do that? Your trick with the ruby wasn't going to work, I can say that almost for certain."

Fiske nods and takes some time to think now, processing all that. He laughs to himself and shakes his head, expression much warmer now. He speaks to her like she's a comrade of his.

It reminds Kim of what Shego told her back at the Bermuda Triangle: We respect the hustle. You don't hustle? You don't get it. Ya feel me, sweetcakes?

"It's true, I was aware the ruby would hardly work, but I wanted to chance it," Fiske says. "There is another way, but I think it's practically impossible by this point."

Kim leans in with keen interest. Whatever he says, she's going to prove it's possible.

"There are four monkey idols, you helped me retrieve one if you can recall," Fiske explains slowly, smiling more by the second. "Those are what gave Stoppable the powers, my assumption is they can be used to remove those powers."

Kim thinks for a moment. That sounds logical… but there has to be a reason Fiske hasn't tried it. "The idols are lost?"

"Yes, I own one still, bless the lord," he kicks back now and reaches for his cup of tea. "When I was arrested shortly after my first brush with Stoppable, the artifacts were stolen and relocated and for the life of me, in the past — hm, eight years now — I've found nothing ."

"Nothing," Kim repeats. "Nothing at all?"

He shakes his head with that confident grin. "I'm familiar with your operation, Possible. You don't have the resources you'd need to find them, I'm sorry."

She grits her teeth, knowing that he's right. If the man obsessed with finding them can't do it… though it's possible all this needs is a fresh pair of eyes. "Either way, I would appreciate it if I could take the idol you have."

He laughs, as if this is so amusing. "I suppose I don't see the harm. I'll ship it to you. Might take a week or so, but I'm curious as to where this goes."

Kim wonders if Drakken ever had a call with Fiske that went like this, or any other villain. Because it feels like what's going on right now, it's so familial.

"Tell me," Fiske continues. "Why?"

Kim blinks, she could stall and ask him what he means, but she knows he's confused as to why she's back in action. "It's what I do. It's what I'm good at, and it's all I know."

"Don't I know how that feels," he smirks again. "I tried going legit, if you can recall. But it's just so easy to go into that place in your head once you know how to access it. Still though, I'm shocked that you of all people would be doing this. You were famous, and spent your days fighting people like me. Now you—"

"I get it," Kim interrupts, smiling for some reason. She likes this? "I appreciate the personal analysis but I've processed it already, Monty." She even blushes a little! God, ever since she switched sides, people have complimented her like never before in such a genuine way.

"So you have, you're very strong, Miss Possible," Fiske remarks. "So it is true then. You work for Big "Big" Daddy."

Kim isn't sure if she's allowed to say, so she just shrugs.

"Have you met him?" Fiske says in a tiny voice. He waits an anxious moment and then shifts his weight from one hip to the other. "I've always wondered who it is, of course, you shouldn't tell me, it'd ruin the surprise."

Right. Big "Big" Daddy is a secre and a presence in the criminal underworld. For Kim, he's just Doctor Drakken. Kim still doesn't see how those people are different yet.

Fiske smiles to himself, as if he's content to leave the call now, when inspiration strikes. "Oh, one last thing, Possible. If I may."

If I may ? Is Kim like… someone you have to say that too, now?

Well, he seems to actually be waiting for her to give permission.

"Yeah," she laughs. This is so bizarre.

"If you do secure the four idols and take Stoppable's powers, do me a courtesy and let me know so you may become my new adversary, eh?"

Part of her actually kind of likes the sound of that, too bad she's going to destroy the idols once the powers are secured.

"I'll do that, Monty," Kim says. "Thanks for the time. Seriously."

The call ends and Kim immediately knocks back into her chair, staring up at the ceiling. She doesn't notice one of her roommates giving her funny looks from the kitchen, and it's not the first time.

She just needs to get three more idols, plus the one Monty already has… she can do that. She can figure this out. She's Kim Possible, she makes things happen. She smiles to herself as she uses the burner phone Shego got for her to text her girlfriend the good news.