There are several signs that a presentation is not going well. Obvious boredom and distracted behavior are among the most common, but a lesser-known sign is when one of the participants stands up and slugs you across the jaw.
Dr. Mr. Possible was not a medical doctor and had hardly ever been in a fight, let alone treated the aftermath of one. He gingerly applied a damp cloth to the swollen and bloody face of the executive administrator of the world-security force known as Global Justice and matched Dr. Betty Director wince for wince.
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s all right. You’re doing fine.” What else could she say?
“I mean that I’m sorry that Anne struck you.”
John glanced over at his distraught wife who was encircled by four burly men that looked like they were so nervous and skittish that they would jump if the slender redhead said ‘boo’ in their general direction. Her head was in her hands but she was no longer crying, the rosy flush in her cheeks more attributable to her embarrassment over punching Dr. Director than anything else.
“Really, Dr. Possible, it is all right… I can assure you that I have been punched before and much harder than that.”
The uniformed woman could see that one of her agents standing guard around the brain surgeon was muttering to the upset woman out of the corner of his mouth.
“Hedges! Go ahead and put your arm around her and tell her that it’s going to be all right, for goodness sakes!”
With a startled nod Hedges did just that, and his usual partner Benson was also at Dr. Mrs. Possible’s side with a steaming mug of hot tea. Standard operating procedure dictated that anyone who struck an executive member of Global Justice was to be detained immediately; the prevailing circumstances made the situation delicate to say the least and none of these agents felt that an eminent threat existed. They were entirely sympathetic to the emotional turmoil that the Possibles were going through, as was Dr. Betty Director herself.
She straightened and stood, once again assuring John that his efforts to care for her minor wound were appreciated, if not wholly necessary. Dr. Director walked over to the agents and dismissed them from their duty, standing over the physician until the sitting woman looked up from her tea.
“Dr. Possible, once again I hope that you will accept my deepest apologies for the terrible mishap that has occurred here today. There is no one to blame here except for myself. I stand before you to accept any repercussions from either my actions or lack thereof.”
The physician seemed almost mesmerized at the litany of officious jargon.
“But please do not attempt to hit me again.” Betty rubbed at her sore jaw. “Your right hook is just too good.”
Anne Possible stood up before she replied.
“My husband is the pacifistic one in the family; he works with missiles and rockets and other machines that are so often used as tools of war that he’s desperate to turn them into tools of exploration and scientific research. I’m a healer, but I was always getting into fights right up until I graduated from medical school. You’d think that I would be the ‘turn the other cheek’ member of the family, right?”
Her expression was apologetic and sheepish; Dr. Director extended a hand, which was firmly accepted.
“Yes, quite so, except that it was my cheek that you turned, hm?”
Dr. Director led the redhead back towards the tight group that had congregated against the opposite side of the room for reasons of polite discretion.
“Now, before we continue, I want to address the presence of Dr. Drew Lipsky in this meeting and some concerns that have been brought to my attention.”
She conscripted Benson and Hedges to wrangle the group and get them seated around the broad table; as soon as this was finished the two agents returned to their own seats on either side of the blue-skinned man in question.
“I want to assure all present that since his incarceration and subsequent treatment, Dr. Lipsky’s mental condition has stabilized. While his machinations and motivations are still his own, he has displayed no behavior that would lead me to believe that he is not willing to assist us in the treatment of Kimberly Possible.”
She glanced at the varying expressions of doubt around the table. Flanked by his ever-present escorts, Drakken did his best to look empathetic and helpful, but his medications tended to leave him looking distracted more than anything else.
“We can all appreciate the fact that we have very little time in which to detail our plan of action; Kimberly has been free for just over two hours and every minute counts, not just for her but for the safety of her daughters.”
There was a sudden crash as John Possible, who had been quietly comforting his wife, brought a fist down on the conference table so hard as to make all present jump.
“What the HELL was she THINKING!”
“John!”
“Damn it, Anne, what the Hell was Shego thinking? Our Kimmie-cub is not well, what would possess her to break her our out of a HOSPITAL for God’s sake?” The tall man, usually the voice of strength and reason, looked desperately to his wife for answers, his formidable intellect failing to wrap itself around his ersatz daughter-in-law’s motivations.
“John, we’d have to ask her that to be certain, but you and I know how much they love each other.”
“But they took the CHILDREN with them! What possible good can come of that?”
Dr. Director moved closer and shifted into the field of their personal turmoil.
“John, if anything Shego may be our ‘ace in the hole’, so to speak. While I certainly cannot abide her actions here today, what your wife says is true; I am confident that whatever Shego did was motivated by the love she holds for your daughter.” She waited until she had his full attention.
“In the time since they made it clear that they were a couple, I have never seen or heard it reported that Shego has acted anything less than the spouse she is to your Kimberly and the mother that she is to those girls; this is a crisis, we know this, but having Shego with them is better than having Kimberly out there alone.”
John was a long way from looking convinced, but he would restrain himself for now. He took what support Anne was able to give him and nodded to indicate his understanding.
What only Dr. Betty Director knew, and what no one else present in the room could know, was the full report she had received from her med-techs that had been dispatched to the Possible residence after the frantic call from young Tim. His telephone call to their network had brought ‘GJ’ out to the house and both his brother Jim and Miss Rockwaller were being treated for their injuries.
Jim’s wound was very obvious but Bonnie’s was not so clinically simple to identify; Tim gave a clear account of what had happened, but until the young brunette began speaking to her attending physicians, the extent of her emotional trauma would remain a mystery.
In the meantime, Dr. Director had to keep everyone busy and focused.
“Any other concerns on that matter at this time?” Seeing that there were none to be brought forth, she moved on to the next order of business.
“Now then, we have been presented with a new factor to our concerns for young Kim, one that holds more hope than we’ve had to work with in the last few days. As there are several newcomers to this group, the rest of us will have to oblige the good Drs. Hall in a brief exposition.” She motioned to the two doctors and found her own seat.
Dr. Mark Hall remained seated and took the lead.
“The Havok that has contaminated Kim’s body is slowly eroding her tissues, replacing the natural organic material with it’s own inorganic substance, thereby causing her organs and systems to fail. While this should cause death, the very nature of Havok is to mimic the functions of life and promote healing, albeit using it’s own artificial matter in lieu of normal cellular regeneration. As a side effect of this process, Kim can sustain massive damage and trauma without resultant injury and is therefore able to move and act at the peak of her physical abilities without becoming fatigued.”
He stopped and looked to his wife for her input on this example of science gone horribly wrong. Dr. Karen Hall continued to explain.
“In addition, Havok is also affecting her nervous system and brain; she cannot sleep which, along with the mental changes brought upon by the Havok itself, will make her prone to fits of emotion and frenetic behavior and unpredictable mood swings. Also, her time sense will be affected; this would make her a formidable combatant considering her skills as a fighter and how she will be as strong and quick as she could ever be every second of the day.”
John had been listening and wanted to voice the question that was on most of their minds.
“How long does she have?”
Looking to her husband, for support, Mark held Karen’s hand as she answered the question.
“Since her escape with Shego, if she has been participating in excessive physical activity, she might have three to four days before the Havok has replaced the majority of her body’s mass and she loses cohesion.”
Several of the participants of this meeting had already seen the results of dissolution to a Havok-ravaged body; the artificial substance mimicked life but was not itself alive, and therefore could not keep a body living and whole when there was nothing left to work with.
John nodded at this and silently held his wife’s hands.
“Whoa… dude, that’s harsh! Seriously!”
Releasing her breath, Dr. Director resumed control of the meeting.
“With that sentiment, I want to introduce the other members of our little enclave and explain why they have joined us.” She stood and began to pace around the table.
“What I propose, with the plans outlined by Dr. Lipsky, is to form two separate task forces, two teams, each with the explicit responsibility of capturing our errant patient and working on a cure.” She moved to the end of the table where the Drs. H sat in professional frustration.
“Stationed here at this facility and with the full resources of Global Justice at their disposal will be the following members of ‘Team Possible’…” Dr. Director made a circuit around the table and rested her hand on the chair of the respective person in turn.
“Dr. Anne Possible, Dr. Meyers, Dr. Mrs. and Dr. Mr. Hall, as well as Dr. Amy Hall whom some of you may have heard of from young Kimberly’s exploits.”
DNAmy smiled her uneven smile and beamed at everyone.
“No relation, I’m afraid!” The pudgy woman pushed a metal tray covered with tinfoil into the center of the conference table. “Lemon squares?”
There was only one taker and Dr. Director rolled her eye.
“And that leads me to the other half of our focus; the apprehension of the girl in question. It will take care and finesse because she is to be considered the most precious cargo of the highest order.”
Anne was too mentally exhausted to react but Betty could see the gratitude in John’s eyes. The executive administrator crossed the room to move up the opposite side of the table.
“In the field and with the support of the Special Agents and weaponry of Global Justice will be the members of ‘Team Lipsky’…” Again, she gestured at each of them, one at a time. “Dr. Drew Lipsky, Dr. John Possible as well as Agents Du, Benson and Hedges. I will also be personally joining ‘Team Lipsky’ and can therefore coordinate our actions with the other team.”
There was a muffled cough and Dr. Director regarded the man wearing the mullet and brandishing a half eaten lemon square.
“Please excuse me; Mr. Edward Lipsky will be joining his cousin on the team.”
Motor Ed nodded at her acknowledgment of him but became serious as he turned to face the Possibles.
“Um, look, I, uh… I know that little Red and I tussled a few times, but this is some major badness here, seriously! No beef of mine would ever get this harsh, no way!”
Drew Lipsky looked favorably at his cousin.
“At the risk of nepotism, I’ve asked that Global Justice extend to my good cousin the offer of a full pardon should he agree to join our team and bring his formidable technical skills to bear.”
“Dr. Lipsky, I agreed to indulge your request in the hopes that it might result in some benefit to our endeavor…” Betty Director glared at the two representatives of the Lipsky family with distaste. “So far I fail to understand exactly how your cousin can contribute to our cause.”
The man known as Motor Ed frowned but did not otherwise react immediately; he lowered his lemon square and looked around at the others, each of them evidently wondering the same thing. He was a large bear of a man, his thinning hair kept long and flowing in his traditional mullet style, drastically out of date, and he knew that he was under dressed in his work slacks and formal T-shirt.
But he refused to be browbeaten by this brain trust if he could help it.
“Babe, first of all, ‘vo-tech’ doesn’t mean ‘slow-tech’! Seriously! I might get covered in grease and oil while I sweeten my ride, but you might be interested to know that I have a few degrees of my own…” He held up a hand rife with lemon square crumbs and counted them off on his fingers.
“Technology Orientation and Technical Mathematics as well as Engineering Mechanics and Mechanical Design, and let us not forget Fluid Mechanics, Technical Writing and Tool Design.” He nodded across the table to DNAmy.
“These are really great, seriously! Hey, Drew, you want one?”
“Please and thank you, Eddie.”
Motor Ed broke a fresh lemon square in half and held it out for Drakken to accept with his teeth; the blue scientist was restrained to the point where his arms were all but useless.
“Impressive.” Dr. Director was amazed at what she had heard; she had always assumed that this cretin was a simple grease monkey with more natural aptitude than brains. “I concede to Mr. Lipsky’s expertise; now let us proceed with the briefing.”
She gave an emphatic nod to Drakken.
“Thank you… now the objective of capture is a difficult one because the means must be non-lethal and yet strong enough to restrain young Kimberly; I suspect that at this stage of her infirmity she could bite, tear or claw through most passive restraints…” he gave his own set of wrist and leg irons a jingle.
“More to the point, she could cause further injury to herself through attempting to escape. Regardless of the effects of Havok, there is the ‘point of no return’ to be cautious of and the more damage that he does to herself brings that point ever closer.”
“Damn it, Drew, what do you have in mind?” John Possible was on the verge of losing his composure again.
“Simply this, John. Kimberly cannot damage what she cannot touch, nor can something that does not touch her cause her harm.” Drakken nodded to Hedges, who handed out photocopied schematics to everyone.
“I suggest that John and Eddie work together to convert the electrodynamic suspension systems from my hover sled design into an inverted Halbach array.”
There were blank stares from all but two of those present.
“Hm, that would mean using something on the order of a neodymium-iron-boron alloy…”
“Right on! Seriously! I see where Drew’s going with this… anybody go a pencil?” Together, John and Eddie began to diagram something in the back of a scrap of paper. Anne was gratified that John could lose himself in the technology of their dilemma; she looked to Dr. Director and they shared a brief smile.
Drakken let the men work and continued.
“If we can keep Kimberly suspended without being in physical contact with anything, there is little chance that she can escape or harm herself further. She won’t be able to grab or touch or hit anything, and would have absolutely no leverage that she could use for any purpose; she would be trapped.”
Anne looked away from what her husband was doing and confronted Drakken.
“And just how are we to get her into this ‘tender prison of the future’?”
“My dear, you really must give me the benefit of the doubt. I have this very day given Global Justice the data needed for them to create passive weapons.” His grin, if it was meant to look sincere and helpful, fell quite flat. Dr. Director moved in to explain, hoping to keep the discussion as civil as possible.
“Infrasound projectors would be used to stun your daughter without causing permanent damage; the lowest settings would cause nausea and the highest would merely render her unconscious. We also would be using electroshock devices such as those already utilized by Global Justice. They would give such a jolt to her nervous system as to hopefully allow us to bring her in.” Betty reached out and placed her hand on Anne’s shoulder.
“This is your Kim we are discussing, not big game; please be assured that we won’t forget that.”
Anne bit her lip and nodded, otherwise remaining silent. Waiting to see if he should continue, Drakken stared off into space until a kick in the leg from Agent Benson brought him back to reality.
“Lastly, I can guide Global Justice in recreating my standard hover sled design, but with much stronger suspension capabilities so that Kimberly can be… herded and subdued in the field.”
They were all silent for a few moments, visions of safely apprehending Kim and returning her to their care filling their heads. It was John that raised his head, breaking off his extended discussion with Motor Ed to ask the ultimate question.
“And then what?”
“Ah, John, indeed, ‘then what’? Well, then we turn your child over to the creditable body of the lauded healers you see before you.”
The Drs. H and Dr. Meyers and Dr. Mrs. Anne Possible each looked at the blue man in utter confusion.
“But we don’t have a cure! You know that!” Dr. Mark Hall half stood and leaned over the table to glare at Drakken, his wife Karen seeming to agree but holding him back nonetheless.
“And that is why DNAmy will be on hand to assist you with her talents.”
Amy smiled hugely and clapped her hands together with glee.
“Why, thank you, sugar-booger!”
Motor Ed and John looked away from their work and glanced at the delighted DNAmy then looked at each other, shuddering slightly. Dr. Karen Hall was a little more forthcoming in her assessment of DNAmy, confronting the other woman directly.
“I’ve heard of you and your experiments; genetic splicing and recombinant DNA being used to create new forms of life.” Karen furrowed her brows. “I have some concerns here.”
John looked away from his work with Edward Lipsky again, this time turning around and taking the hand of his wife as he addressed Dr. Director.
“Our Kimmie-cub has mentioned this woman several times, both her work and their conflicts together. While my field of knowledge doesn’t give me the right to judge the validity of her work, I also have some concerns over her involvement.” He looked at Anne.
“And I also.” The redhead nodded.
“If I’m not wanted, I’ll just go!” The woman sniffled and dabbed at her eyes in an overt show of dismay, drawing her tray of lemon bars close to her.
“Now, now, Amy. Please don’t be like that.”
Drakken’s voice was as calm soothing as anyone at the table had ever heard him speak. The geneticist looked at the assembled group and kept her lip firm and slowly sat back into her chair. Dr. Director marched over and stood behind that chair as she looked at each of the others in turn, burning her monocular gaze into each of them in reminder of the severity of the situation.
“Dr. Hall, I am certain that everyone here appreciates your willingness to help, and of your knowledge of your field of study. If you and Dr. Lipsky would be so kind as to elaborate your plan, I’m sure that all will be made clear.”
Amy nodded and looked to her peer for his assurance; Drakken smiled at her before he continued speaking.
“In addition to her formidable understanding of the theory behind genetic manipulation, Dr. Amy Hall is well-versed in the use of its practical applications. She has invented a miraculous machine that she refers to as a ‘genetic zipper’, designed to splice disparate helixes of genetic material and later separate them again, not to mention her working knowledge of the genetic re-sequencer, also used to combine multiple genetic characteristics of different life forms into one new creation.”
DNAmy grinned as she let these accolades washed across her ears.
“But what is less known and little understood is that she also has perfected the ability to duplicate organic matter constructed of actual living cells, effectively being able to grow large quantities of living tissue in only minutes.”
A hush fell across the room. Even DNAmy looked at Drakken in puzzlement.
“Hang on… Are you telling us that she can clone things?” Mark Hall was incredulous.
“But… that’s just an off-shoot of my research. I don’t actually clone anything.”
“I know, my dear. It’s quite all right.” Drakken raised his voice slightly. “Tell us what happened the first time you attempted to spontaneously create a full sized creature from restructured tissues.”
“It was gross! I wanted to make a pretty pony with two sets of filigreed wings and I did; except that it was dead!” DNAmy became a little teary-eyed at the memory.
“Quite so, quite so. You have not been able to spontaneously create living creatures from restructured organics, but you have used infusions of individual chimerical cells to give your genetically spliced creations additional mass. I’ve read your literature of the experiment where you spliced a grown man with a naked mole rat and the resultant creature was of a greater mass than the two original creatures combined. This is science, not meat loaf; you can’t use corn flakes as filler.”
The blue and manacled prisoner let this sink in for a moment.
“And herein lies the key to the survival of Kimberly Anne Possible.”
Wade Load finished his lunch and placed his dirty dishes in the sink, glancing for the hundred thousandth time out at his old swing set in the back yard. Cleaning and drying his plate and glass, he refilled his favorite cup from the water jug in the refrigerator and walked back upstairs to his electronic sanctuary.
The young boy hadn’t heard from either Shego or Kim or anyone in the last twenty-four hours; he was certain that the rescue had progressed without a hitch but had hoped that Shego would have made contact with him once the girls had reached a safe haven. He could always attempt to pinpoint Kim’s location from the subcutaneous transmitter that she’d asked him to give her several years ago, but he hesitated to do so because he felt uncomfortable knowing that his best friend was never truly alone while he was near his machines.
The tracking chip had been her decision and she had begged him to do it, both to herself and to Ron, although the blond boy had been dozing at the time. Besides, ever since Kim became ill, the tiny device was not functioning as reliably as it should; there was interference as if some of its more delicate circuitry was being tampered with on the cellular level. This would be unusual, except that the electrochemical processes of Kim’s own body powered the device; whatever it was that was affecting her health could well be affecting the capabilities of the tracking chip.
Deciding to start with the chip and then move on to something more conventional, Wade activated his tracking scanners and then located his latest registry printout of the government’s low-orbit satellites. With his own handwritten notes in the margins, he could also keep track of those satellites not acknowledged by any government and a few that were put up there by independent forces. He checked the listing to see what was passing over Middleton right now and made linkage with that network as his tracking scans gave him some feedback.
Kim’s signal had been located!
Wade triangulated the coordinates from the transponder and cross-checked the location with his registry; there was a satellite due in just a few minutes that had both normal and infrared viewing equipment and he would finally have his first clue as to how successful the jailbreak had been!
In the meantime, he made a telephone call to Ron Stoppable.
Bonnie Rockwaller discharged herself from the Middleton Hospital after reading the riot act to an orderly, two psychiatrists and a candy striper. She was sick and tired of answering their stupid questions and with nothing more than a bloody lip to require their years of medical training she wasn’t going to allow herself to be poked or prodded for another second.
The brunette woman sat in a café across the street from the hospital, drinking a decaffeinated tea and waiting for a call back from her mother. She had been brought here a few hours ago in a semi-conscious state after her encounter with Kim and Shego at the Possible residence, but was more stunned than injured. Kim’s words at the house had wounded her far deeper than a simple kick to the chin.
The reason Bonnie had left the medical building was out of frustration; the reason that she was still in the immediate area was out of concern for Kim’s brothers. Jim was still in intensive care while surgeon’s consulted each other over the condition of his leg while Tim rested in recovery, his neck and throat severely bruised and swollen but not life threatening.
The boys were alone right now because ‘GJ’ had kept their parents in the dark about this incident, though Bonnie could only imagine how the Possibles would eventually react to that. There were a few ‘GJ’ agents stationed at the hospital to ensure the boys safety, but she didn’t exactly see this as being adequate care; the boys wanted their folks and Bonnie would do her best to pinch-hit in their absence.
Surrogate mother, yep, that’s me all right.
Sitting and drinking in the anonymity of the café gave Bonnie time to reflect on Kim’s actions. She was well aware that Kim would NEVER make such vile comments under ANY circumstances, not to mention that Kim was deathly ill, regardless of her enhanced stamina and speed. That the words had been said lent more credence to the degree of her friend’s deteriorating condition than anything else; even though she hadn’t been present at the medical briefing, Bonnie had been very close to the extended Possible family for several days now and had been carefully piecing together enough of the clues to see the big picture of Kim’s immediate future. It looked pretty grim from where she was standing.
And because Kim had taken the babies with her, there was more at stake than just Bonnie’s feelings. She made a vow at that moment to do all in her power to protect those darling children from harm; it was the best way that she could see to repay Kim and Shego for their friendship.
But first, Bonnie had to give direction to her new sense of purpose. Paying for her tea, she left the café and crossed the street to the hospital, intending to inform the agents of her need to return home; they could watch the boys just fine without her being there. Finding one and telling him just enough to make him believe that she was intending to go straight home, she left the building for the last time that day.
And almost got run down in the street by a car that barely screeched to a halt directly in front of her. The bright orange vehicle had its black top down and it looked like a metal shoebox as it bore down upon her; she leapt back and covered her eyes, her newfound resolve still being a bit too weak to take too many more shocks today.
“Bon-Bon! Hey, what are you doing here?”
‘yey, hawt mama!’
Ron practically stood up in the front seat of the convertible, his blond hair unkempt and messy in the afternoon sunlight as he stared over the windscreen at his old classmate. The tiny pink rodent that had been hanging on for dear life to the instrument panel climbed up where he could smile at the brunette, but Rufus frowned when he saw the small bandage on her face and the circles around her eyes. These details didn’t escape Ron’s attention either.
“Bonnie, are you Ok? You look tired…”
Bonnie was too startled to react at first, but eventually found the appropriate response.
“Stoppable! You moron! Why don’t you watch the HELL where you’re going? You almost killed me!” Far too obtuse to be hurt by mere insults, Ron waved them off and reached across the front seat to open the passenger door for her.
“Do you need a lift anywhere? Let the Ron Mobile be your magic carpet!”
The young woman looked around, her prospects for transportation slim since she and the boys had been brought to the hospital by ambulance. Muttering to herself and wondering how Kim could have possibly suffered this retard for so many years, she lowered her head and stomped to the open door. From the front passenger seat, the vehicle looked less like a shoebox and more like a metal bathtub on wheels; it was painted a bright, if weather-beaten, orange color and sported a black canvas convertible top.
“Where did you ever find this old thing?” Bonnie made sure to hold quite still as Rufus carefully climbed up her arm to her shoulder and then made a nest in her hair.
“Hey, how’d you know that’s what it was?”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, it a Volkswagen Type 181 ‘Kurierwagen’! Kim met this guy a few years ago named Andy Wayne; she helped him save his hometown from some ghost pirates or something like that when she was visiting a Northern California fishing village. These ghost pirates…”
“leperz!”
“No, buddy, they weren’t leopards, they were ghosts.”
Rufus shook his head in disgust and went back to sleep in Bonnie’s hair.
“Anyway, they’d attacked the town years ago, before Kim and I were even born, but they’d come back for Andy’s mom and Kim was out there for a vacation, so… you can guess the rest.” He patted the steering wheel affectionately. “Andy’s mom gave it to Kim and she gave it to me!”
Ron glanced around, as if anyone could have been eavesdropping on two people driving down a city street in traffic; he leaned over and spoke in a conspiratorial manner.
“KP’s not too good with the standard shift, if you know what I mean.”
Fascinated in spite of herself, Bonnie felt the need to regain control of the situation.
“So, exactly why are you trying to run me down?”
“Oh! Well, I didn’t even know you were here. I got a call from Wade and was on my way to… say, you know what? You could help me!”
Now Bonnie knew why Kim let Ron hang around for so many years. Regardless of their status as friends and Kim’s preferences, Ron had an unfocused energy that could lift anyone’s spirits. Plus he was cute in a dumb-ass sort of way.
Over the next few minutes Ron explained to Bonnie that his friend Wade had located Kim using his advanced tracking systems. Ron was oblivious to Kim’s implanted tracking device because his teammates had never told him about it, mainly because he had also been implanted with a similar device, but without his knowledge; his beloved Kim had been adamant about Ron’s ignorance of this safety precaution.
“Shego’s still with her and the four of them are in an abandoned section of the same industrial complex where this started; it’s near the warehouse that Drakken was using for his broadcast energy machine.” A shiver passed through his spine as he recalled he horror he’d felt that day when he believed Kim to be dead.
“It could be rough, Bonnie, but right now they need all of the help they can get.”
Rockwaller turned to face him in the seat.
“I’m in, but you’d better listen to me, Stoppable; Kim may be ill but she can still take either of us out in a heartbeat.” She appraised his gawky physique and the fact that underneath his lanky exterior he must have the muscles necessary to make use of his infrequent so-called Monkey Powers.
“You’d give her more of a run for her money than I could, but neither of us would stand a chance for more than a minute. If we do anything it should be to get those little girls away from there and back to Kim’s parents, but by stealth and not by force.”
Ron’s face grew very serious and he looked back at his former classmate.
“You really think so?”
“Yes, I do. Kim doesn’t know what she’s doing and Shego will have her hands full with Kim. We should probably alert this Global Justice of yours once we find them, but if they show up too early Kim might do something rash and those girls might get hurt.”
Bonnie swallowed hard; there would be no more innocent deaths in her life.
“We go in quiet, grab the children, and then alert the powers that be; you’ll probably have to give some backup to Shego with the Monkey stuff, but otherwise it’s a commando raid, not an attack.”
“Not bad, Bon-Bon! You’re a pretty good tactician.”
Aggressive and dominant women had surrounded Ron for most of his young life, so maybe it wasn’t strange that he’d never fully developed a relationship with Kim when they were younger. Certainly not now that she was living a spousal partnership with Shego, but Kim had always been more of a sister and friend than a girlfriend; anything more intimate just never felt right, and certainly not that night at the school prom.
The old Bonnie Rockwaller had never been a friend, just a passing acquaintance and classmate that never saw him as being anything but ‘low on the food chain’ and therefore beneath her notice. This new Bonnie was different; something had changed in those few years that Ron was not aware of, maturity maybe or something deeper, that made him see her as a potential friend and maybe even a partner in the drama to come.
And maybe she could be something much, much more.
“And you’re just plain pretty.”
She glared at him, not used to hearing compliments from this young man and not feeling like being particularly receptive to them anyway right now. Seeing that he wasn’t teasing her, she relaxed a little and smirked.
“Shut up, Stoppable, and drive the car.”
Ron noticed how her face had softened, if only for a moment, out of the corner of his eye. He also caught his little naked friend giving him a nod and a ‘thumb’s up’ from the nest he had built in Bonnie’s hair. He smiled his own confident smile and reached back to fish a small blue device from his mission satchel behind the her seat; he handed the Kimmunicator to her.
“I was going to call us ‘Team Stoppable’ but that doesn’t feel right to me, somehow. From now until this nightmare is over you, Wade, Rufus and I will be known as ‘Team Rockwaller’.”
Bonnie accepted the device, biting her lip. Please Lord, for Kim’s sake as well as mine, please don’t let me screw this up.
Once upon a time there was a woman with a sharp mind but a smart mouth that often got her into trouble. She was strong and fast and more than capable of fighting her way into and out of any situation that she encountered. Add to this that she had a super human power and you have someone for whom the word ‘weakness’ became an insult and a curse. For the first time in her life, the former villain would have gladly admitted to anyone that she was too weak to handle this sitch on her own.
Shego was in Hell, and if this wasn’t Hell she knew that there was a very good chance that she would find out what it was like one of these days, probably soon. Until then, she was huddled against the wall of a foreman’s office, and that tiny room was within a larger complex that may have once been a fuel oil distribution plant.
The chain outside at the security gate had separated like licorice in her hands, mere steel being powerless against her plasma, and she and Kim carried their daughters into the deepest part of the plant.
The offices were dusty but otherwise dry and clean and water, albeit rusty and smelling of sulfur, could be dispensed from the taps in the bathrooms. There was no electricity and therefore no heat, but the sun had set only short while ago and they were not likely to suffer from exposure that soon.
For now, Shego was able to offer meager illumination from the glow of her plasma fields, first one hand and then the other, while she waited for Kim to return. All attempts to persuade the redhead to either return home or to at least let them stay somewhere habitable were rejected. Kim wouldn’t hear of it, and this abandoned depot was her only concession to keeping a roof over their heads.
A burble from one of the tiny forms in her lap brought her out of her self-pity.
“Oopsie! Do I hear the Peanut Gallery?”
Her daughters were wrapped in the blanked she had grabbed on her way out of the Possible home, but she hadn’t thought to bring anything else. Even as she berated herself for her lousy parenting, she was keeping her daughters warm and dry and calm.
“Welcome, Team Possible, to my secret above-ground lair!”
Sheki squealed at the fingers ticking her ribs, the lips kissing her chin. Kasy kicked with her infant’s feet, squirming as the tender hand that had radiated death seconds before was rocking her gently.
“Oh, what that? What’s that, huh?” Shego stroked and caressed the infants until they giggled and smiled up at her. “Mommy’s going to be back soon… I hope.”
Lord, when would her Kim return to her, her real Kim?
“I’ve got dinner!”
Kim’s voice echoed though the corridors of the deserted building, making the hardened warrior actually cringe where she sat. Shego drew her children closer. Footsteps sounded out in the cavernous depot, coming closer, then the rasp of a heavy metallic object being dragged across the hard concrete floor.
Kim appeared in the doorway with a black, plastic garbage bag over her shoulder and a grin on her dirty face. Shego thanked Heaven that the dirt was only soot and dust from this filthy place and not the pitch that she’d become horribly familiar with over the past week. Apparently that last attack was long over and she’d watched as Kim had washed her face at a utility sink soon after they’d arrived.
“And how are my ladies tonight? I hope everyone is hungry!”
Here I go, Shego thought, it’s show time.
“Hi, baby. The girls could certainly do with some food. I know I could.”
Entering the room, Kim was pulling a lidless fifty-five gallon drum behind her. It was old but not very rusty and reeked of the same fuel oil smell that permeated the entire place.
“Here! There’s some stuff in here for the girls.” Kim tossed the garbage bag to her wife. “Food, diapers, milk… I’ll see what I can do to make them drink a little.”
Looking inside with no small degree of trepidation, Shego saw that the food was mostly junk food with some roughly made sandwiches wrapped in cellophane over little Styrofoam plates. The package of diapers was very small as was a container of cleansing wipes, and the milk and other beverages were in colorful plastic bottles. Shego also found a lighter, the familiar ‘Harley Davidson’ logo imprinted across the cheap plastic.
“Kim, were did you get this stuff?”
“The convenience store on Third Street! Why? Was there something special that you wanted?” When Kim had entered the room, her expression had been one of happiness, but now the shadow of anxiety crossed her features.
“Kimmie, they were closed down for the weekend to replace the old gasoline tank for the pumps.” There was a knot in her guts. “Kimmie, please don’t tell me that you stole these things.”
“Uh, huh!” The joy was back, red hair bobbing an affirmative.
“You BROKE into the convenience store?”
“Well, doy! It was closed! What was I supposed to do?” Kim was genuinely puzzled at how she could have better obtained their dinner. She held out her hand to Shego.
“Can I have that lighter?”
Setting down her children and leaning the twins against the office wall, Shego hesitated briefly before passing it back. Within seconds, the thief was stunned when Kim used it to set a scrap of paper on fire and simply dropped it into the drum. The smell of fuel oil must have been from something that Kim had saturated and already placed in the drum because it caught immediately and sent flames towards the ceiling.
Kasy and Sheki clapped with delight, eyes huge with wonder at their Mommy making fire.
“Kim, not in here! The ceiling’s too low!” The tiles above their heads were already starting to smolder, an umbra of greasy smoke hovering above them.
Shego stumbled a little as she ran to the drum and dragged it out of the room, her uniform gloves smoldering slightly against the heat of the natural flames. While transparent to the radiation signature of her plasma, her uniform was not fireproof.
“Oh, baby, I’m sorry!” Kim smacked herself in the head, the impact hard. “I wasn’t thinking!”
Setting the blazing drum a few feet outside in the main depot floor, Shego wrung her pained hands; the irony temporarily lost on her that her hands were usually covered in sheathes of green flame.
The incident forgotten already, Kim brushed clean the surface of an empty desk and began to set out the food and bottled drinks. Shego returned, flexing her fingers and hoping for a chance to run some cold and filthy water over them, but sticking around so as to carefully monitor Kim; she watchedthe younger girl pick up little Kasy and carry her over to the opposite end of the desk.
“What… what are you doing, sweetheart?” She coughed at the stink of burned fuel oil that permeated the room. Flames climbing from the drum outside of the office reminded Shego of the Hell she feared. She’d certainly earned it today.
“I’ll change the twins while you finishing putting together a meal for them.” She pointed to the sugary snack foods.
“Princess, how about you let me change them. You’ve been working so hard lately; you can rest a bit while I do the dirty work.” She kept her eyes always on Kim, occasionally stealing glances upwards to ensure that the office really wasn’t burning. Her angel was not in control and she didn’t want Kim to handle those girls any more than necessary.
“I love you so MUCH! You’re always thinking of me!” The redhead bounced over and stood on tiptoes to smear a kiss on Shego’s chin, the red glow from the drum turning her flushed pink skin the same color as her hair.
“No big, Princess.”
Kim was dancing as she returned to the food.
Not wanting their mouths to touch, the kiss had been easily deflected but there existed a danger in avoiding it entirely. Kim had been manic and excitable for the last few hours, yes, but at least her mood was stable, even if at the high end of the spectrum. Upsetting Kim in any way risked the threat of another fit and return to her earlier state of violence. And the pitch might start to flow.
“Kimmie, why don’t you try to sleep?”
Shego knew full well that one of the side effects of Havok exposure was the inability to sleep, but she had to try anything to keep Kim relaxed.
“I can’t seem to, baby! Sleep is the furthest thing from my mind!” Beverages were juggled through the air for the entertainment of two delighted little girls.
Shego had noticed that the milk was no longer cold after its journey within the garbage bag, but knew that it wasn’t spoiled; the store had only been closed for business two days ago and the coolers and other appliances were left running. Adding the sugary wafers from a few packs of cookies and maybe a cheese cracker or two along with the milk should keep the girls in the pink until a better solution presented itself.
Cleaning and diapering a chubby green bottom made her smile; she was reminded that there was nothing ‘pink’ about either child.
“You are so right!”
Kim’s bubbly comment caught Shego off guard.
“Huh? What? Right about what?”
“What you’ve always said!”
“Pumpkin, I’m just a little tired here and not thinking clearly. What did I say?”
Kim moved closer and wrapped her arms around the taller woman.
“That it’s better to be free!” Releasing her wife, Kim spread her arms wide and twirled around the tiny office, more than once almost stepping on the idle form of little Sheki. The child had found a clipboard in a corner and was holding it with both chubby hands. Scooping up the girl, Shego deposited her on the deck next to her sister for safety.
“Yeah, Princess, this is the life, right? Free from the cares and expectations of society.”
The irony of the sitch was not lost on Shego; before her was the most valuable possession that she had ever stolen. Her Kimmie was sick, maybe dying, and now they huddled in an abandoned industrial site as if it were one of Drakken’s old lairs. I really am a criminal, she thought.
“Yep, this is the life.”
The flames kept burning in the drum outside.
Kim wasn’t oblivious to the fact that her partner was unhappy about something, even if she wasn’t certain what. It probably was the disappointment of both of them never getting the chance to have their way with Bonnie Rockwaller until the brunette screamed.
“Shegie… Shegie Whegie… wussa maddur?” The pout rode on Kim’s haggard face and Shego was reminded of Poe’s ‘The Masque Of The Red Death’.
Hips swaying and hands clasped behind her back, the girl ‘who could do anything’ sidled up to the pale warrior and stood at her side; more than that, Kim was rubbing her body against Shego’s like a cat wanting to be petted. Bottom lip in her teeth, Kim fixed her huge green eyes on her wife and exuded lust.
Shego would have been no more aroused by watching an accident victim get a sponge bath. A dim and dirty abandoned industrial office while on the run from Global Justice was neither the place nor the time.
“Um, Pumpkin, I’m a little busy now and the girls really needed tending to”
“mamamamama!” was the joined consensus from the diaper set.
Sighing, Kim moved away, but only after caressing Shego’s butt in a way that, while she was dressed at least, never failed to stoke her flames. Grinding her teeth in determination, Shego kept cleaning and changing their daughters.
“Maybe later then, ‘spooky’!”
Kim walked to the other end of the desk and began to take a small packet of cookies and break them up for the girls to eat with their milk, crumbling them into a small bowl. Shego watched this simple action; they might almost have been back at home in the kitchen, with her angel making a small snack for the girls’ lunch. Shego wondered where Kim had located a bowl…
Dear Lord, it was an old ashtray, complete with butts.
“KIM! Uh, hey, I’m almost finished with the girls here, so why don’t I wash up and finish that for you. You’ve seen so little of them while you were… away.” Shego wiped most of the effluent from her hands and nudged the diaper pack with an elbow.
“How about you dress them, Ok?”
The clouded look was gone and her angel brightened.
“Spank’n! Just don’t be gone long. I’m starving!”
With one last glance over her shoulder to see that Kim was being careful with the children, Shego hurried to the bathroom across the main floor of the depot.
Soft flesh beneath her fingers, pale green and ill lit from the fire burning outside of the open doorway, Kim finished dressing her children. The air was just getting noticeably cooler but the flaming barrel was doing its job of warming them. Kim caressed and licked and kissed her girls, their green eyes sparkling like jewels in the dusky glow.
Kim loved these two miracles more than anything; more than herself and possibly more than her wife but she never wanted to have to put that to the test. Other faces and names scrolled across her addled mind but they meant nothing, nothing at all. Only her wife and little Sheki and little Kasy were of any true value to her.
She leaned down and let her hair brush across Kasy, the tiny girl batting playfully at Kim’s cheeks while Kim inhaled the child’s scent. These were her children, her issue. They were of her and from her and…
Kim paused, inhaled again. She drew back and turned to Sheki, repeating the action. The girls had just been changed and powdered, yes, but there was a smell about them. It was a taint, an imperfection.
Something was not right, and it was making her upset.
Shego found the bathroom using the flame from her hands and kept them lit while stained and chilly water splashed over them from the faucet. The plasma turned most of the water to steam instantly, but what didn’t flash away made for warmer water to wash her hands with. She had toyed with the idea of lighting on fire a moldy roll of toilet paper that she had found, but didn’t want to learn what that would smell like and also didn’t want to risk yet another potential fire hazard in this dangerous place.
Geez, what a shit hole this is, she thought. If we don’t get tetanus we’ll probably die of the fuel oil fumes.
She could hear creeks in the metal walls of the fuel depot as the wind occasionally picked up speed across the deserted lots of the industrial complex outside, and other noises when loose doors or windows would slam and swing in the night air. It was a wonder that more animals hadn’t crept in here and made this dump a home. Shego wasn’t a big fan of rats and had been keeping an eye out for them all evening, as much for herself as for he safety of her daughters. On second thought, she realized, the stink of fuel oil would probably keep anything else away.
A swift flash of motion out of the corner of her eye and a skittering sound behind her made her whip around and grab the roll of toilet paper; it flared to life like a torch and she threw it at the little creature standing just inside of the bathroom door. It rebounded and rolled away, much to Shego’s relief; she was never so happy that one of her strikes has missed its intended target before.
‘fyr inna hohl!’
“Rufus! Hey, boy!” Bending down quickly, she scooped up the flaming paper roll and tossed it into a nearby toilet to smolder.
‘sego’
The naked mole rat stood and ambled over to her, looking up at the woman with no small degree of trepidation; she’d done her best to blast him more than once during past meetings. This was a special occasion, however, and innocent lives were at stake. She dropped to one knee and bent low over the little mammal, never gladder to see him in all her life.
“Did you bring help? You’re not here by yourself, are you?” Terrible sitch aside, she smirked at the thought of how ridiculous she probably looked right now and jokingly asked one more question.
“Is Timmy trapped in the well?”
He furrowed his brow and crossed his arms; he tapped his hind paw in annoyance and refused to honor that with an answer.
“Sorry, sorry! Is Ron with you?” The reply was an emphatic nod and Rufus pointed out across the depot crowded with pipes and values towards a loading door.
“He’s out that door?”
Nod.
“Is he planning to come in here?”
Nod, this time with a martial arts pantomime.
“He’s coming in here to fight?” She had a cold thought. “Is he here to fight ME?”
Emphatic shaking of the little pink head; Rufus moved closer and stroked her hand. Shego was relieved to see that for now, at least, she was not being treated like the enemy yet. She also knew that this could change
“But he can’t take Kim by himself; she’s faster and she’ll sense him coming.”
Recent events had made it appallingly clear how Kim’s infirmity had benefited her ability to fight. Her senses were heightened and her speed was incredible and she didn’t feel pain like she should; no pain meant that she could push herself like never before and do more damage than she ever could.
“We’re both to fight Kim? To bring her back to ‘GJ’?”
Nod.
“That won’t work! The girls are here! Kim might harm them accidentally!” Shego would not allow herself to think how Kim might come to harm the girls on purpose. Rufus was already shaking his head again, pointing to his gigantic former nemesis and holding up one digit from his other hand.
“Me? Yeah, I’m just one person. So?” Rufus nodded and held up a second digit, this time pointing to the loading door out across the depot.
“Ron? Yes, he’s another person; that’s two of us, yeah. So what?”
The naked mole rat held up a third digit.
“Huh? Who else is here?” The tiny creature pondered her question for a moment, formulating his answer. He brightened and cocked his hips, placing one hand against his waist and the other to the side of his head.
“You have a headache? A backache?”
Shaking his head fervently, Rufus used his little paws to form the shape of an hourglass in the air before him.
“Shit, I’m no good at charades! You’re telling me that someone is swimming? What? What are you trying to tell me?”
Thoroughly disgusted, Rufus had no choice but to bring out the big guns, literally. He held out his paws and cupped them a sizable distance from his chest.
“Bonnie? You’re saying that Bonnie is here, too?”
‘whew!’ Rufus collapsed backwards in exhaustion, both paws giving a ‘thumb’s up’ in affirmation.
Far from stupid, Shego’s mind had been far too muddied by the recent events concerning Kim’s illness, plus little enough time to rest and recoup her own resources. With the appearance of the rodent and his timely message, she felt a spark of hope in the back of her mind. This was enough to let her brain sort through some details and begin to function logically again.
“But… she’s not here to fight, obviously. She’s here for the babies!”
‘u,yah!’
Think, damn it; I used to be able to have an organized thought, Shego ruminated to herself. Kim can fight, better than ever. How can we get the girls away? Ron’s good but I’ll be better at handling Kim, so what’s he planning? He’s faster than me, barely, and that’s only if he’s just covering the ground and not fighting. So that must mean…
“I distract Kim, Ron takes the children and gives them to Bonnie, she leaves while Ron and I run interference, yes?”
All of the frivolous pantomime was gone now; the little beast simply nodded an affirmative and carried the most solemn look that Shego had ever seen on an animal.
“But when?”
“SHEGO!”
The call echoed down the narrow hallway between the office and the bathrooms. Rufus jumped a good foot into the air; that was the sound of the beast he had first begun to sense in the jungles of South America. Shego knew that she had been away from Kim and the girls for longer than was necessary and that Kim was likely to notice, but something else was in that call.
It was anger.
“Better make it now, little man. You go and tell Ron that he needs to be ready NOW!”
With a quick salute from a tiny paw, Rufus scampered off towards the far away loading door and was soon lost in the darkness. Shego straightened herself and strode back to the foreman’s office as if she’d only been away for a few moments. She walked around the barrel and back into the small room to find Kim standing over the wriggling forms of their children, still safe for the time being.
“Kim? What’s up?”
“WHAT is WRONG with THEM?” She was pointing down at the girls
“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong?”
“They STINK!”
“Stink? What do you mean?” She was shivering, a cold dread in the pit of her stomach. “We just changed them… is that what you smell?”
Kim vaulted over the desk at Shego, the taller woman backing up but then standing her ground when she saw that it wasn’t an attack. Kim was holding her hands up to Shego’s face, palms up and open.
“Smell me! Here, smell me! Taste me!”
Kim had her hands and wrists at Shego’s mouth and nose, the pale warrior uncertain of what Kim expected her to do. Hesitating for a second, she inhaled the warm smell of Kim’s own body odor, heady from not having bathed in a over a day. Searching for a clean spot, Shego gingerly touched the tip of her tongue to Kim’s wrist, feeling the heat of her young wife’s blood pumping through her veins.
“Good! See? SEE? Now you!”
The slender girl grabbed Shego and practically climbed up the taller woman’s torso to thrust her own body against a cringing and shocked face. Kim was all over her head and neck and hair, smelling and tasting. The sudden weight on her shoulders made Shego stagger and shift her stance for balance.
“Kimmie, what the Hell are you doing?”
“You smell RIGHT! You are Shego, you smell PERFECT! I am Kim Possible, I smell PERFECT! We taste complete, whole, perfect!”
“Well, Princess, what else should we smell like?”
“Right! Right! But these…” Kim waved her arms in frustration at the tiny forms. “These… these are… what are these THINGS?”
Oh, sweet Lord. What is she saying? In answer to the unspoken question, Kim began to mutter.
“Mongrels…”
“No, Kimmie, they’re our babies, yours and mine!”
“Hybrids…”
“Baby, no!”
Kim was moving, circling the desk, her breath a harsh whistle between clenched teeth. Shego needed to get the petite woman out, out now, out of this cramped room and into the empty space of the depot and hope that Ron got in here damn quick to enact what plan he’d made.
“Kimmie, please come over here and explain it to me.” Shego moved closer to the open doorway and the fire burning in the steel drum. To her relief, Kim followed.
“No, baby, it’s not your fault!” Kim’s face had changed; she was apologetic, distressed over her pale wife’s obvious misunderstandings.
“I don’t blame you!” Kim gestured at the green and black clad form before her. “You were damaged, your genetics are weak!”
“Excuse me?” In spite of herself, Shego bristled at the statement.
“The comet! Your genetics were altered!” Kim looked as if she were about to cry for her spouse. “It’s not your fault because my perfect body and functioning uterus should have compensated for your flaws!”
This is not my angel, not my Princess; I won’t listen to these words. Shego continued to back away, around the barrel and further into the depot; Kim still followed.
“So it’s not your fault!” Kim continued to rave. “We can try again, you and I. We can have Drakken recreate the method again and this time it will be right!” Kim smiled at her wife with a radiance that the pale thief had only seen such as when the redhead had accepted Shego’s proposal of marriage, or when their daughters had been placed in Kim’s arms for the very first time.
“But we can’t let ourselves be held back by these two ill-formed, impure little abominations! Surely, you understand?” With the smile still on her face, Kim started to turn back to the office doorway.
To Be Continued…
Author’s Notes: what little research I did was done with the assistance of forteantimes dot com and the wikipedia. Remember that I am a writer and don’t really know anything! Also, if there is ever a KP live-action movie, Disney will have to get Hulk Hogan to play Motor Ed… seriously!
I hope that I’m not using too much repetitious exposition (chokes on words) but I felt the need to keep the story straight. Also, I guess that I’m giving more credit to Ron that I first thought that I would; he’s doing all right for himself.
Now, you see this naked mole rat I’m holding? Please read and review or it’s curtains for the varmint.