Anonymity was the single most freeing thing Kim had ever felt. The aftermath of her first mission had come mighty close, but this…this lack of anyone knowing that she was The Kim Possible…
She had decided on this course the previous week, when she'd sought somewhere quit to think on why Ron had gotten so withdrawn recently. He'd been spending time away from her, and while she was concerned, she wasn't yet worried enough to follow him.
Instead, she sought a place to think…and had promptly been interrupted by Professor Dementor. The plan had been sloppy, more on level with Drakken than with Dementor's usual style, and Kim had taken care of it handily. It had helped that Global Justice had turned up in the middle of the bout, as well, as they'd had their eye on Dementor and had mobilized as soon as they saw that Kim had engaged him.
Closing her eyes, she washed away the memories with a swig from the bottle cradled in her hand. Anyone who knew her would have a hard time recognizing her tonight. Forgoing her usual tightfitting tomboyishly girly style, Kim had opted for an outfit befitting her chosen thinking spot: the biggest gay bar in Upperton. Primarily lesbian, it had weekly drag queen shows and themed nights, though anyone was welcome at anytime.
A few years ago, Kim had diverted Senor Senior Junior's attention away from the perceived slight to his hair: a lesbian had a better hairdo than he did. Tossing the overgrown boy a fashion magazine had made him scream and run out to buy a new wardrobe.
Tonight, though, Kim was not Kim Possible, the girl who could do anything. Dressed in jeans that were baggier than she normally wore, one of her Dad's patterned shirts - tucked in, of course, as part of her cover - and baseball cap with the brim pulled low, she looked like any number of the Saturday night butches that filled the bar. Tonight, she was…she was…she was not introducing herself around, so her name didn't matter.
What mattered was not thinking…or rather, idle thinking. The press of the roaring crowd under the pulsing beat was enough to serve as so much white noise. Ron had been…not necessarily more secretive, but less ebullient than usual. He had stopped telling her every little thing he was doing on the weekends.
That bothered her.
Not so much because she cared what he was doing, necessarily - she didn't figure he wanted a full rundown of everything she did, after all - but because it seemed a harbinger of the death of their friendship.
Taking another swig, she almost spit it out as the booming voice of the MC broke through the crowd with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.
“ARE Y'ALL READY!”
The cramped crowd, already deafening, roared in response.
“I SAID ARE Y'ALL READY!”
The response was slightly more cohesive this time, into general choruses of “yes” and “yeah”.
“HERE SHE IS…THE SHINING DIAMOND…GIVE IT UP FOR FABOO LICIOUS!”
The spotlight centered on a svelte figure in a tight red dress, her face downward as the music began. Her face raised up and she began to lip-synch to the lyrics.
From her dark, cramped corner, Kim stared, her stomach roiling.
She knew what Ron had been doing with his free time.
- end -