Anticipation makes every second seem longer. When one is anticipating an entire day, this tends to make falling asleep the previous night all that much more harder.
For Kim Possible, the girl who could do anything, keeping her eyes shut seemed to be the hardest task. She wasn't quite sure how Valentines Day had gotten to be such a thrill to her. She didn't remember being this excited on Christmas Eve, or the night before the Junior Prom. Reaching back into her memories she tried to remember the night before the Tweebs were born and that long night her mother spent in the hospital in labor. Nothing.
Nothing special was scheduled for tomorrow, really. Valentine's Day had fallen on a Tuesday which meant she'd have to bear through all the people being lovey-dovey at school. Definitely not a pleasant thought. She'd also have to see Ron again at school, who would be happy and goofy and concentrating on getting passing grades enough such that he would be accepted at the Culinary Institute of America -- which was naturally abbreviated CIA, giving Kim a giggle most times it was mentioned -- and probably trying too hard not to remember when she and he were dating. Kim would have to try to avoid that thought as well.
Ultimately, more things to dread than be thrilled about. So Kim had to conclude that the reason she was so excited about tomorrow was her ‘Secret Admirer.’
It seemed like such a corny concept to her, Kim had to admit. Sending messages and gifts from afar but never identifying yourself. It seemed like more an exercise in painful drawn out torture than romance. In fact, to send such thoughtful gifts to someone you'd never admitting any attraction to in person almost felt stalker-ish.
And yet, Kim was excited to see what she'd get this year. Three years ago, Kim had gotten the first gift. It didn't even have a card, just a tag that read ‘To My Kimmie.’ It was a gorgeous top that fit her well and though she felt creeped out at first, she wore it frequently. She still had it, sitting a drawer, to be pulled out when she wanted to be comforted.
She'd worn it when she and Ron finally broke up before Christmas. Hoping its secret power would insulate her from the heartbreak. She wasn't sure if it worked, but things ended amicably between she and her best friend. Oh, Ron was upset, and Kim was too, but it wasn't working out no matter how much they loved one another. Too many years being like family made dating seem… wrong. They couldn't get into the groove. It was heartbreaking just to think about, let alone experience.
Two years ago, the second ‘Secret Admirer’ gift came on Valentine's Day. This year it did have a card. “To My Emerald Eyed Kimmie,” it was addressed and signed “Your Admirer.” In between, it had a brief poem of startling intensity. Kim still blushed when she thought about it. The gift was a emerald pendant shaped like a heart.
That gift was a little too big and noticeable to wear around. Not to mention Kim wasn't really a big jewelry person. But she kept it around, and would hold on it at times when she was sitting in her room doing homework or watching television.
Last year, the ‘Admirer’ seemed to have realized that Kim hadn't worn the gift she received last year. The surprise that morning was a long stemmed rose attached to an ornately decorated box. Inside was a paper map with a time on it and was signed ‘Admirer.’ Kim hesitated, knowing that her enemies could very well send her a trap like that, but went anyway, unable to resist knowing who the ‘admirer’ might be.
The time was late at night, in a mostly vacant park since it was the middle of winter, increasing the creepy-factor incredibly. Then, at the exact time written on the map, they began to fall. The first few fell on her head and shoulders, fluttering to the ground causing Kim to furrow her brow before the deluge came.
Thousands of rose petals surrounded her like a storm. Each one casually fluttering down, occasionally kissing her cheeks and skin with their velvet lips. The breeze that night caused them to spin and turn around her dancing to an unheard tune. Kim laughed and danced in the torrent, humming a tune to herself and playing as if in a dream. It only lasted a few minutes, anymore would have covered the park in the reddish hue, but it felt like eternity.
The last thing to fall was a letter, sealed in red wax. It read, “To my ginger haired Kimmie, Feel my breath on the breeze, my touch in the snow, and my lips on those roses and think of me until the day I can feel those emerald eyes on me. Your Admirer.”
She returned home that night flushed and out of breath. When her mother asked if it had been cold outside she readily agreed, but didn't say that wasn't why she was so red.
As each agonizing second passed until dawn, Kim thought of her admirer and who he really was.
Morning eventually came and Kim got up as she normally did, took her shower, got dressed, packed her bag and came down stairs. She tried to keep her mind off the strange, but undoubtedly dark, handsome stranger who spent all year just waiting for Valentine's Day to arrive to send her some thoughtful gift. It became easier when she entered the kitchen.
“Nothing?” her mother said.
“That isn't right,” her father replied, raising a brow and rubbing his chin. “I'm quite sure I took care of this well in advance.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin electronic datapad and paged through virtual entries while Kim swept into the area and kissed him on the cheek.
“'morning, Daddy,” she said then repeated the action with her mother. “'morning, Mom.”
“Good morning, sweetheart,” replied Mrs. Dr. Possible as she poured her daughter a cup of orange just before getting herself one as well.
“What's going on?” asked Kim, peeling off some bread to drop in the toaster.
“Your father is trying to come up with an excuse for forgetting Valentine's Day,” she said with a smile. “You would think after 20 years he would know I wouldn't be upset over a silly holiday.”
“I know I ordered you flowers,” Dr. Possible said, defiantly paging through his PDA. “Aha! Look, right here. First week of January. Designed series 3 rocket testing, have lunch with Dr. Grimwald, order Valentine's gift. I have checkmarks next to all three.”
The unflappable Mrs. Dr. Possible just glided over to her husband and kissed him. “Whether something comes or not is unimportant. I know you think about me all the time.”
“Hmm, it would still have been nicer with the flowers,” said Dr. Possible, smiling but sounding slightly depressed.
Kim shook her head at her parents. They were incredibly well suited to one another and she could only hope one day she'd fine someone as compatible with her as her parents were to one another.
The doorbell sounded, and Kim tried to hide her enthusiasm as she said, “I'll get it.”
She bounded across the foyer to open the door and smiled widely when she saw the Global Express deliveryman standing there. He looked glum as he handed over a simple express envelope. “Kim Possible?”
“That's me,” said Kim, taking the envelope and signing the LCD screen held out in front of her. “Not happy to be working on Valentine's Day?”
“Nah,” said the man with a shake of his head. “My gift to my fiancée got lost in the mail, so I don't have anything for her. She won't be pleased.”
“It's the thought that counts, though.”
“Hah.” The man frowned. “You must be the only girl who actually thinks that.”
“Hey!” Kim felt insulted but the deliveryman shrugged and walked back to his van. “SO the drama,” she concluded then closed the door.
Back to the matter at hand, she thought to herself. Grabbing the pull tab she yanked open the strip, tearing the top of the envelope open. She tipped the cardboard sleeve to one side and a single sheet of paper fell out. Kim turned it over in her hands and read it.
Then she read it again.
“No!” she said, feeling frustrated. How could he do this? her mind screamed internally. It wasn't FAIR!
“Kimmiecub?” her father called. “Is everything alright?”
“Um,” started Kim, trying to think of what to say. She hadn't exactly been open about her ‘secret admirer’ or whatever he was now. “Yeah, the deliveryman was just rude,” she covered. That was true, at least, but not why she yelled out.
What was she going to do? The words in the letter swam in her head. Words like “obsession” and “it's over” and “forgive me.” Words she didn't want to hear, certainly not this year. She came up with a plan and trembled slightly at the boldness of it but resolved herself. Who needed ‘secret’ admirers anyway?
Certainly not when they didn't need to remain ‘secret.’
Kim turned over the Global Express envelope in her hand and looked at the originating address.
She knew just where to start.
“Kim,” said Wade looking nervous over the Kimmunicator. “I didn't get a hit on the website, what is this all about, anyway?”
“It's about secrets,” she said as she prepped her parachute in the back of a cargo plane. She'd called in an old favor with a Florida Oranges shipper and hitched a ride. They weren't landing in Georgia, which was where she needed to be, so she brought the parachute to bail midway through the flight. “And finding them out.”
“Whose secrets?”
“That's a secret,” said Kim, feeling embarrassed. “And you can't tell Ron, I don't want him to get upset I didn’t take him along.”
“Why didn’t you take him along? This doesn't seem like you.”
“I'm just taking things into my own hands. I don't think he'd understand.” He wouldn't understand, she scolded herself, why you're trying harder to pursue an anonymous admirer than you did to keep your relationship with him alive. He would be right not to understand. This was a crazy idea, but for one day -- just one day -- Kim Possible was going to act crazy.
“Still, it doesn't seem right to leave him out.”
“Maybe not, but that's the way it is on this mish, okay?”
“You're the boss.” Wade reference his own manual. “You're coming up on the jump site in one minute,” he announced.
Kim ran to the door and readied to jump on Wade's signal. Below, rocky Georgia was flying past. The bright colors and lights of Atlanta quickly drawing closer. Kim gripped the Kimmunicator tightly.
“Go ahead,” came Wade's voice as Kim dove into the open air. The rush of the fall flowed into her body, the adrenaline coursing through her veins, reaching her brain and overriding her logic centers convincing her that what she was doing was still a good idea.
In the emptiness of the fall, however, that didn’t last long and all she had was her thoughts to keep her company. Because of what Wade had said, she thought of Ron. Probably at school, probably wondering where she went. She would never live this down. Running off, not telling anyone why, all to trace an apology letter from a distant stalker. She really had gone crazy.
“I can't chase shadows forever,” the letter had read. “I let my obsession get the better of me.” It all seemed so final to Kim, as if something strange but somewhat comforting was going to vanish into the ether and she would never know -- never know -- who this person was and why he had fixated on her. Had he saved his life? Saved his job? Just impressed him on TV? Who was he?
She had to know.
The seconds accelerated as the ground rushed up at her. She pulled her parachute and, after the initial jerk, glided smoothly to the ground. It was a still day and she landed exactly on target. The Global Express building the letter had been sent from lay right in front of her.
“Come on, Junior,” Senior Senior Senior implored as he glanced to the unconscious guards in the Global Express building. “This will not go unnoticed for long.”
Senior Senior Junior, digging through baskets of boxes that were waiting to be sorted, looked up, unhappily, at his father. “But Father, why are we stealing chocolate boxes intended for Valentines? This is a holiday of love! I do not want to interfere with love.”
“Junior,” the elder Senior started. “Love is not in a box of candy or a fluffy bear, it exists inside the people who have it. It will still be there even when the chocolate is gone. But the devils who run this candy company have routed my attempts at acquisition for the last time. This day, they will suffer.”
“How will stealing other people's chocolates hurt their business?” questioned Junior, returning to digging through the boxes, occasionally tossing one onto the growing pile behind him.
“It's all business, my son. The missing packages will be seen as a failure to the company and their shareholder support will falter. This will provide the destabilization needed for me to take a financial advantage.” Senior clutched his cane for emphasis so hard his knuckles turned white.
“You're just upset you have no Valentine,” grumbled Junior, picking up another box and tossing it onto the pile. “I think that's the last one, Father.”
“Good,” nodded Senior Senior Senior.
“Not so good,” said a figure from the door way. The two Senior's looked over to see the young teen redhead standing with her hands at her hips. “Valentine's Day is stressful enough, Senior Senior Senior,” Kim continued. “Did you really need to make it worse?”
“Kim Possible,” scowled the Senior Senior. “Junior, grab the boxes.” He pointed the end of his staff at the heroine. “I think you ought to stick around, my dear.” Pressing a button on the shaft, a pink ball of goop shot out.
Kim leapt to one side and rolled behind a forklift as pink bits of sweet smelling candy splashed around her. She looked at the substance then grimaced.
“Weaponized saltwater taffy?” Kim said, confused. “That's … bizarre. I figured Drakken to be more of the goofy gimmick villain.”
“It seemed appropriate,” Senior said, firing the sweet treat again. “Given my true target's marketshare.”
Kim flinched as a large gob of the taffy landed near her, splashing a small bit of the ooze on her. Figuring her cover was staring to fail, she cut quickly behind the forklift and jumped into a tall aisle of boxes reaching to the ceiling of the warehouse.
Senior Senior Senior turned for a second. “Junior, are you ready yet?”
“There are a lot of boxes here, Father,” Junior complained while stuffing the gifts into the oversized bag. “Give me a minute.”
“Hurry,” implored the father, who slowly moved down the rows of boxes looking for his adversary. He was holding his cane ready to fire which slowed his walk slightly.
Kim, who had climbed to the top of the twenty-foot tall shelves, was hiding between boxes, trying to figure out the best way to incapacitate the elder Senior while keeping Junior from running off with his bounty.
“Aha!” called Senior Senior Senior from below as he caught a glimpse of Kim moving between hiding places. His taffy-gun splashed around her but she missed getting hit.
She leaned against an oversized box for a breather. She wished she was better prepared. She hadn't expected to run into the Seniors at Global Express. If it was luck or misfortune that she did, Kim couldn't tell for sure yet. Her eyes tracked the warehouse for an edge. Her gaze settled on a box one aisle of shelves away from her. Wammo Gumball Company, it read. She blinked.
“Surely you can't be that worried about this company, Kim Possible,” Senior's voice echoed from below. “It capitalizes on a holiday that nobody can win at. They create scenarios that place impossible demands on lovers. This company does not care if two people hug or fight at the end of the day, as long as their candy was bought. That's not worth losing your life over.” He fired his pink taffy at the last place he'd seen Kim. “A fall from that height could be very dangerous.”
He gazed up, looking for any sign of movement. Kim was not responding to his distractionary dialogue as he had hoped. He moved another aisle forward and noticed that she was no longer behind the boxes he had fired at.
A sudden scuffling of feet turned Senior's attention upwards as he saw Kim standing smugly next to a large box teetering on the edge of the tallest shelf. “You were right,” she said. “Candy does make an appropriate weapon.” She kicked the box forward launching into the middle of the aisle.
Senior starting backing up as the box struck the floor and thousands of little solid gumballs rolled out and covered the concrete. The candy just hard enough to cause the elder man to lose his footing and he stuck the ground hard, his cane flying out of his reach.
Kim leapt down between shelves before reaching the floor and grabbing the ornate cane. She studied the long object for a just a second, locating the small red button on the side, then carefully stalked out of the aisle.
Kim watched, her hands on her hips, as the Police carted Senior Senior Senior away in handcuffs and the taffy covered Senior Senior Junior in a wheelbarrow. It would be a sticky process removing him from the sugary snack, but stealing Valentine's Day gifts… that was low.
The Global Express staff were knocked unconscious by a gas grenade from the Seniors and recovered quickly. They were grateful for her help and Kim took advantage of the situation to pull out the envelope she'd received in the morning.
“I got this today,” she explained to the staff member, a taller man with dark hair named Tony. “Is there any way to find out who sent it?”
Tony took the envelope and turned it over in his hands. “It came from here,” he said at first. “The tracking prefix is for this branch. I can check the computer to see if anything about the sender was recorded, but it's not required so there might not be much. Unless they paid by credit card or something.”
“Anything for our rescuer,” said the worker and took the envelope to a computer and scanned the barcode. A screen came up displaying a surprisingly small amount of information. Kim deflated.
“This is odd,” Tony said, running his finger across the screen. “I don't understand why this would--” he paused. “Oh, I get it. The package was only routed through here. It came through another courier with instructions to re-post and send to you.”
“Do you do that often?” Kim said, finding the situation bizarre but trying to keep her hopes up.
“Not at all,” Tony shook his head. “I might be able to find a ‘special delivery’ agreement it'll it might tell me who the original sender was.” He tapped for several minutes going through screens that Kim only saw mere seconds of each.
“Hmm, it doesn't have a sender, but there is an originating office.” He looked up to her. “I think the original sender posted the envelope from a New Express West Shipping office in Seattle, Washington.”
Kim frowned. “Seattle!”
The sun was already setting on the west coast and the tall burly man standing in the NEWS warehouse in Seattle was getting very frustrated. He picked up a random henchman and raised him into the air over his head and yelled angrily.
“What is taking so long?”
“I-I'm sorry,” the henchman babbled. “The chemical is taking longer to apply to the flowers than we expected. It should only be another hour at the most.”
“Excuse me,” a small voice called from back in the office section of the large warehouse.
The burly man sighed and stomped back to the group of tied up security and shipping employees. “What is it?” he hollered.
“Can we have another bathroom trip?” the woman who called out before said, looking up at the tall man through her thick glasses. She had a nametag on her vest that read ‘Beth.’
“You just went!”
“Well, actually, no,” Beth shook her head. “That was in the morning, when you first tied us up. It's almost 6 o'clock now.”
The muscular man felt like screaming. Screaming would be good. But it would seem unprofessional. He didn't want to be unprofessional. He was a world class villain, not to be mistaken with bumbling dolts like that annoying Dr. Drakken. Although Drakken did make a big fuss last year before disappearing almost altogether, the big man had to admit. Still, he wanted to maintain a higher standard, which meant no laughing maniacally, no whining at failed plans, and no screaming at aggravating situations.
Sometimes he hated his professionalism.
“Fine,” he said at last. “Hanzel,” he called to one of his henchmen. The uniformed man ran over and stood at attention. “Take these people to the bathroom before we have a mess on our hands.”
“Yes, sir,” henchman Hanzel said.
The villain stomped back out of the office, in a professional way, and stood in the middle of his operation. A dozen of his henchmen were applying a special chemical to the deliveries of flowers for the day that would cause them to mutate spontaneously and attack whoever was nearby. He felt it was a brilliant scheme to use on Valentine's Day, except, for reasons he couldn't comprehend, the timing had completely failed him.
Oh well, he thought to himself. They'll all be attacked on the day AFTER Valentine's Day. It'll be only nearly as appropriate.
“Dr. Dementor?” a puzzled voice that the villain recognized immediately said. The masked man turned to see Kim Possible, looking strangely exhausted, standing in the doorway of the warehouse from the office. Behind her he could see the previously captured employees scrambling out of the office and his henchman unconscious on the floor. He was surprised at her skill; he'd only left that room a minute ago.
“I can't believe my bad luck,” the teen said, a hand to her forehead.
“Believe it,” said Dr. Dementor, picking up one of the bouquets his henchmen had been working on and throwing it to the red-haired heroine. Kim caught it instinctively, but regretted it as the roses suddenly exploded with vines and tangled around her. She struggled as the red, thorny tendrils encircled her body and left her cocooned on the floor.
Dr. Dementor walked up to her. “I would have expected the police before you, frankly,” he said, studying her struggling form.
“Believe me,” Kim grunted. “I would have preferred that, today.”
“Oh really? Missing a date with your boyfriend, are you?”
Kim signed. This was really getting out of hand. She should have stayed at home. Her hands being pulled tightly against her side, she wiggled her wrist as best as she could to get the small, thin blade tucked in her sleeve to fall into her palm. Even though she was unprepared for encountering multiple evil villains today didn't mean she wasn't completely without equipment.
“What are you even doing here?” Kim asked, buying time as she felt the sliver of metal against her fingers.
“I'm supposed to be ruining Valentine's Day,” he sighed and looked around. “But I'm apparently going to be a day late.”
“Sorry to hear that,” mutter Kim. She'd gotten the blade into her fingers and was sawing against the vine as fast as she could without being obvious. “What is it with you super-villains and wrecking holidays? I thought you were trying to take over the world!”
“Ah, while that is my first goal,” Dementor said holding up a finger. “I do other things from time to time. I never did get valentines when I was in school, the other girls apparently were intimidated by my startling looks.”
“You weren't wearing that ridiculous mask back in school, where you?”
“So what if I was?” Dementor turned and stared at her with a growl. “You girls never did appreciate the finer things in men. Only if they have enough muscles or played the right sports.”
“Oh come on,” Kim panned. She was almost through the vines near her hand. “When you wear a mask like that, people wonder what you're hiding. Everybody does, not just girls.” A few moments longer and she'd be free.
“They should have seen my inner beauty,” scowled Demenor. “But no, looks are everything to you, aren't they?” He kicked Kim slightly in anger but the vines reacted by tightening their grip and squeezing her. Thorns dug deeply across her chest and into her exposed skin and she gasped in pain, accidentally dropping her thin knife.
“It's… not… like that,” she gasped again, trying to breathe. “Secrets always… separate people …” She rolled slightly trying hoping desperately her exposed fingers would feel the cool metal on the ground.
Dr. Dementor frowned and picked up Kim by the vines, causing them to loosen slightly, but not enough for Kim to escape. “What do you mean?”
“Secrets are cool at first,” Kim said, getting her breath. “They're mysterious. But after a while they turn dark. You can't hide things from people you want affection from, it starts to get uncomfortable. They can't trust you anymore.” Kim frowned, feeling guilty again for running off without Ron. He deserved to know where she went, even if they weren't dating anymore.
“As profound as that may sound,” said Dementor whimsically. He dropped Kim casually on the ground. “We were grade schoolers. I was looking for a paper heart and candy, not commitment and a happy home life.”
Kim rolled slightly on the ground and felt the knife touch her hands again as if it was being held out for her. Kim frowned and took the blade then turned her head slightly to see. A small naked mole rat was scurrying silently away to a corner where she could see Ron's hiding in the shadows. She caught his eye and he waved to her. Kim smiled, feeling more relieved than she had all day. Gripping the knife firmly she vigorously cut into the vines.
“Valentines Day is still a miserable holiday, and I will make sure it's bitter for as many people as I can,” Dementor announced. He motioned to rows the flowers behind him. “It is already done and it would be a shame to deny the people who ordered these flowers their gift.” He smiled evilly as Kim finally sliced through the vines.
Kim leapt to her feet, shrugging off the green tendrils of rose thorns. She felt sore all over and her outfit was covered with cuts and bleeding. Dementor's eyes went wide as he saw her move. Kim opened her mouth to say something witty but stopped herself, still feeling guilty for the day in general. She kicked him in the gut instead and he fell back onto the rows of roses that immediately sprung to life and wrapped him in a six foot blanket of thorny vines. He yelped in pain and the vines moved and twisted against his struggling.
The doctor's henchmen scrambled out to attack just when Ron leapt from the shadows and joined Kim in the fight. It was a brief one, and soon Team Possible was standing victorious.
The police officer was more than a little amazed.
“I heard you were in Atlanta this morning,” the officer, a ginger-haired woman standing no taller than Kim herself. “I'm impressed.”
Kim laughed, “Never a dull moment in this job.” She signed a statement and watched as Dr. Dementor and his crew were loaded into police vans.
Ron walked up behind her. “Busy day, KP?” he asked, sounding cheerful, which confused her.
“Oh, Ron,” she said turning to him. “I'm sorry for disappearing without telling you. I just… one thing led to another and… I didn't know what I was doing. I think I'm going crazy.”
“Shh,” consoled Ron. “It's okay. I heard the sitch from Wade.”
“You did?” Kim questioned, even more confused now. “Aren't you angry?”
“Angry?” Ron asked, surprised. “Why? Because you were trying to track down a stalker?”
Oh, Kim thought, that story. “It's not entirely like that, Ron. I mean, yeah, he's probably a stalker, but, I just felt… well, dumped.”
“Dumped?” no Ron was confused.
Kim handed over the letter from the morning.
“To my dearest Kimmie,” Ron read. “Dearest?”
“Just keep reading,” Kim replied.
“To my dearest Kimmie, I have intrigued by you from the day I'd first laid eyes on you. These last few years I've turned that interest into an unhealthy obsession, desperately searching for a connection. I know that since last year you started dating that young boy you're always with and I think that should be the sign that this has gone too far. I can't chase shadows forever. I let my obsession get the better of me and I'm stopping it now. Forgive me for my weakness up until this point. It's over now. Sincerely, your Admirer.”
Ron paused and mused over the letter for a minute more.
“I'm sorry I never told you about these,” Kim said. “I've gotten one every Valentine's Day for the last 3 years.”
“They're kinda creepy,” said Ron.
“They were comforting on those years I didn't have a normal Valentine.” Kim thought for a second. “You know, all of them.”
“KP,” the boy started. “Maybe things didn’t work out with us, but I don't blame you. Even if you were thinking about… this,” he waved the paper. “I'm not angry at you for trying to hold onto a relationship that seemed to be working, no matter how untraditional. But this isn't a relationship, it's a-a movie. A television show where you're the star but you never see the audience!”
Kim was speechless. “Ron…”
“You deserve better than that,” he concluded.
Kim blinked and hugged him close, holding her head against his shoulder. “Thank you,” she said, feeling warmth for the first time all day. His warmth. Several minutes passed before she let go but still stayed at arm's length.
“Not to ruin a moment,” she said half-smiling. “But you're awfully profound tonight.”
“I was reading Ethan Frome for English class before I flew out here.” Ron grinned. “Nothing makes you reexamine your relationships more.”
Kim laughed and silently thanked Edith Wharton.
Later that night, Kim sat on her bed holding her knees against her chest and staring at the letter from her Admirer. She understood what Ron had said, and wanted to let go of the whole matter, but one thing still bugged her.
“Who are you?” she muttered aloud.
Four chimes interrupted her thoughts.
“What's the sitch, Wade?” Kim said, picking up her Kimmunicator.
“I wanted to let you know, I have a picture of your secret admirer.”
Kim blinked. “What? How? The people at New Express West Shipping said the package was dropped off in the night box, all cash, nothing to trace.”
“I know,” Wade said with a smile. That same smile he always had when he'd done the unexpected. “That's why I checked for security cameras around the night box. They only take shots every thirty seconds, like an ATM, but one of them happened to catch your secret admirer.”
“Really?” Kim suddenly felt nervous. After today, did she really want to know? “Can I see?”
“I warn you,” Wade said, frowning slightly. “It's not what you were expecting.”
“It's okay,” Kim said. “I'm not that fixated on it anymore. I just wanted to know so I can move on.”
“All right,” said Wade. He changed the image on the Kimmunicator screen.
Kim stared. “Oh my.”
One year later.
The Admirer sat unhappily at a desk. Valentines Day had become a rather depressing day since last year, since giving up on Kim Possible. The two had come face to face a couple times since the Admirer gave up on her, but there was no sign of acknowledgement of the gifts, no sign that the Admirer's feelings had reached the girl who could do anything. Not that Kim knew who the Admirer really was.
Sighing, the Admirer tried to find distraction in the television, but nothing was on. A random news station reported that Kim had saved the world the previous week, as expected. The Admirer just tried to forget but found, since sending the last letter, each day had less excitement in it.
The Admirer's employer stopped over at the desk. “This came for you in the mail,” he said. “You didn't tell me you had a Valentine.”
“I don't,” said the Admirer, studying the envelope. The employer shrugged and grumbled something about his people having Valentines when he didn't.
The Admirer trembled, the handwriting was familiar. The envelope was in pieces on the floor a minute later with the open on the desk being held in shaking hands.
“To my not-so-secret-anymore Admirer,
I was surprised to find out that it was you, to tell you the truth. I could hardly believe my eyes. After a while, though, I have to say I was intrigued. All this time, and it was you. Did you mean those words you wrote each time? It's taken me a whole year to figure out that I want to know. But I know from experience that secrets -- even secret admirers -- can't be the basis for relationships. So if you want to try again, just call me this time.
Sincerely, your patient Kimmie.”
The Admirer's mouth was dry after reading and she swallowed several times just to be able to speak. Her green eyes roamed over every word as her black lips curled up slightly. She had to restrain herself from laughing in joy. She would call Kim. She would. She might even make it work.
After all, who knew Kim Possible better than Shego.
- Fin -
AFTERWORD
This is just my little contribution to the wonderful Kigo fanfic community. If Femmeslash isn't your thing, just replace the last line with someone you like more. Just like Madlibs!