Legal Mumbo Jumbo: I do not own Kim Possible nor do I own any of the characters contained within. They are property of the Disney Corporation.
Kim Possible: Necessary Changes
Kim Possible could do anything. Her website boasted it, had boasted it for so long, and she knew it to be true. No matter the situation, no matter the obstacle, she was capable of anything. She'd faced down countless villains, escaped countless deathtraps and survived every no-win scenario thrown her way. She wasn't cocky, just more confident in her abilities than anything else in the world. Okay, maybe a bit cocky.
She'd never done so much alone, however, and that's what made her hesitate now. She'd always had Ron there by her side throughout most of their adventures. He'd been a comfortable constant in their crime fighting lives and she felt safe with him at her back.
He…couldn't be there and that meant she was alone. She made a quick head count of the opposition before her. Fourteen men all dressed in Professor Dementor's signature jumpsuits, all brandishing random devices meant to cause her bodily harm in some way.
The diminutive Professor perched atop a catwalk directly ahead, leaning over the railing and shaking his fist at the teen hero. The warehouse she now stood inside supposedly housed a few leftover electronic trinkets that Drakken had discarded for future use. It seemed Dementor was always out to steal his former rival's ideas whenever he actually came up with a decent one.
"Curse you, Possible!" he yelled in that thick, German accent. "Don't you have better things to do than play hero!?"
Not really, Kim visibly smirked to hide the disappointed answer she gave internally. "Not as long as you keep giving me a reason to come back."
"You bring this on yourself, Fraulein. GET HER!"
Kim placed one hand out, palm open, and spread her legs apart. The familiar stance openly intimidated at least half of the minions. Paired with her reputation, the men knew what they were in store for if they decided to follow their boss' command.
Though she was small, lightly built and only just north of eighteen, everyone knew she was one of the finest martial artists in the world. Few could touch her one on one, but fighting a group was a different animal entirely.
While she had no fears of outclassing the henchmen, she wasn't foolish enough to rush them and give them a chance to surround her. She needed space to move and perform her unique style of fighting. She waited patiently for the goons to make the first move.
Five of them decided to rush her, yelling from adrenaline and waving their combination of clubs, shock sticks, and batons. She moved into the first as he reached her, kicking out her leg and striking his shins. He front flipped past her as she spun into the next with a solid elbow shot to the stomach.
The other three pounced at once, but she avoided two and caught the hand of the third, spinning and pulling his much heavier weight along with him. He tumbled end over end, leaving only two to face her.
One swung and she side stepped just enough to move inside his swing and throw a leg up, catching his jaw with her foot. Spittle flew from his mouth as he dipped backward and his partner suddenly decided this was a losing battle.
He turned to run, but she placed a foot across his ankle and pushed his upper body hard, sending him skidding face first across the concrete floor. The remainder of the men seemed respectful now, fidgeting in place and glancing to one another in hopes someone else would begin the next assault.
"This the best you can muster, Dementor?" Kim snarked.
The German rubbed his helmeted head, "The HenchCo bargain bin has been overflowing these days. LUCKY FOR ME!"
The roof above Dementor suddenly collapsed and a hovercraft descended into view. Kim recognized it as Drakken's tech and worried over how much of the former villain's gear the professor had stolen.
She gritted her teeth when a new group of goons exited the craft, adding six more to the overall group. Dementor hopped into the craft and blew a raspberry at his teen nemesis.
"Until next time, Possible!" he cackled as the craft ascended.
Kim leapt into action, visibly startling the group of goons as she dashed forward and jumped onto the head of the nearest crony. She used his oversized bulk as a launching pad to push her athletic frame as high into the air as possible.
Mid jump, she pulled out her hairdryer grappling hook from her pack and found the landing struts within range. She fired and the gas propelled launcher threw the metal hook perfectly around the strut, entangling itself.
She pressed the retract button and felt the taut rope tighten and begin to pull her in…but not before one of the goons somehow leaped high enough to grab her ankle.
The sudden increase in weight pulled them towards the ground at frightening speed, forcing Kim to release the dryer and attempt to reposition herself midair. Somehow, she maneuvered her body above the thug falling beneath her and used his large torso as a cushion.
Still, the landing was jarring enough to knock the air from her. She rolled off the now unconscious man and put a few yards distance between herself and the group, kicking herself internally for letting Dementor get away.
The goons wouldn't allow her that courtesy, however, as most of them charged at her simultaneously. This had now gone from stopping the professor to surviving this attack. She tested her stance, making sure the fall hadn't hurt her more than she'd realized, before tensing herself and preparing for this battle.
It went as smoothly as any battle before, much to her relief. She'd never been considered an easy tussle, but even she had her limits. Fortunately, the goons were indeed bottom of the barrel as far as quality was concerned. She had easily dispatched five of them in due time, but she also realized the latest additions that had come from the hovercraft still stood back and watched her performance.
It took her addled brain a moment to realize they weren't frightened, but watching her as if learning her techniques or simply allowing the lesser fighters to wear her out before they joined in. She tried to keep her eyes on both groups.
She paid for her sloppiness with a strike to the back, courtesy of one of the batons they were using. She had just enough time to be relieved he hadn't been using a stun stick before she was haymakered by one of the newer men.
She'd somehow gotten her guard up enough to avoid most of the blow, but that just meant her arms were hurting instead of her chest and neck. She landed back first, stayed down just long enough for the goons to think they'd won, before leaping back up and round-housing two of the slower ones.
One of the better fighters swung at her, but she was still faster, ducking and jamming a palm into his chin. They were on her like a pack of wild animals and it was all she could do to avoid their attacks, much less find suitable counters. The newer goons began finding openings and were mere centimeters from striking her aching body.
She knew a losing battle when she saw it, so she double rolled across the floor and made for an exit. Two of the new goons had anticipated this and gave immediate chase. She went for the closest exit, clearly marked with an illuminated sign, before the men began to cut her off on either side.
She wouldn't make the door, so she instead skid to a stop and bee lined for a lone set of windows set low to the ground. They were within jumping distance and they would be her only escape.
Mid run, she picked up a small packing crate lying to the side and spun to fake throwing it towards the pursuers. They balked and moved to the side, giving her enough time to spin twice and launch the wooden container through the glass.
Before the shards had finished raining across the concrete floors, she was bounding over a stair railing and pushing through the new opening. A small bit of glass nicked her on the way out, but it did little to distract from her escape.
She landed outside on a low rising catwalk, only a few feet from the ground. The vast Canadian wilderness stretched out before her, full of lush trees covered in melting snow. The warehouse had been erected on the outskirts of a nearby town, at the foot of a series of mountain ranges in hopes it would have appeared inconspicuous to thieves. No such luck, it seemed.
More glass shattered as the two pursuing goons forsook their own safety and launched their bodies through the windows and onto the catwalk. She stared astonished as they landed on either side of her, almost unharmed and still itching to fight.
"You guys are way too tenacious," she quipped. "Girls don't like a guy who can't take a hint."
The one to her right actually grinned, "This is just business, Possible. Work's a bit scarce now with you running everyone away. It's gotten to the point that taking you down is the only way to make a name for yourself anymore."
"Lucky me. So that's why Dementor just left you guys. Any chance you know what he was looking for here?"
The talker looked over to his cohort, who shrugged indifferently, "He doesn't give much detail to his hired help. We were here to stop you, simple as that."
"Thanks anyways," she grinned and ran him down.
At the last second, she hit her side and slid underneath his wide legs, the moist catwalk giving her ample distance as she found her footing again and headed for the opposite end of the metal walkway.
The goons gave chase just as she heard more of them bursting through the doors below and the window, effectively cutting her off. She let her brain run wild, formulating plans and alternative plans that didn't see her getting out of this without busting a few skulls.
The stairway leading down was clearly going to be covered, so she jumped onto the railing, somehow not falling as she agilely pushed herself up to a low hanging roof line. She hoped the acrobatics required to chase her would give her time to breathe and think.
The precariously smooth, wet roof made her escape gingerly slow at best, but she could hear the grunts of irritation as the bulkier pursuers failed to match her leaping prowess. Still, two of the better goons managed their frames over the edge and slowly stood to descend on her.
This time she stood her ground. She bobbed up and down excitedly as the men neared, adrenaline surging through her and making her enjoy herself despite the throbbing pain in her back. She knew as soon as they neared that she had the advantage. They were heavier, clumsier, and built for destruction. She was graceful, delicate, and balanced adequately against the slick metal roof.
They both realized this all too late as one took the initiative and stepped forward to attack, immediately pitching forward as his boots lost traction. As soon as he'd fallen to his hands and knees, she was moving forward, pushing the grips of her boots against the angle of the roof
In two steps, she was to the downed man and he watched in mute shock as she landed a knee directly into his temple. He was unconscious before he fell to his side, but she didn't stop there.
Judging by the distance from the lower part of the roof to the ground, she decided the fall wouldn't kill him. With precision, she pushed the body as hard as possible, making him slide easily across the wet roof and clear the edge just as two lower goons were scaling up.
They grunted in surprise as their knocked out cohort pushed them off the edge and over the catwalk to the ground below. Kim grinned at the lone goon.
He snickered, "You're something else, kid."
"No big," she stretched animatedly. "Just a day in the life of Kim Possible."
He secured his feet against the roof, digging in hard to afford maximum grip, "Not your average day, Possible. I don't ever recall you flying solo for this long. Where's the boyfriend?"
Kim frowned, not wanting to open that particular wound at the moment. Clearly, the goon had been trying to throw her off her game and she was annoyed to discover it had worked. It actually took her by surprise when he stepped forward and threw out a muscular leg.
She was swift enough to block it, but choosing to block instead of dodge effectively threw her off balance. She fell to one knee to avoid slipping and he took that advantage by throwing the opposite leg into her.
He was strong, no question. The blow sent her sliding up the roof and smacking against the wall that led up to a second lip towards the higher part of the roof. It hurt, but she'd had worse.
She started to slide back down, but somehow found enough traction with her gloved hands and boots to push back up into a crouching position. She let herself slide a bit further before leaping up and bringing her heel back down towards the goon's head.
He blocked it, but she used his stopping her momentum to twist in midair, grab his elbow, and use her downward force to drag him bodily over her shoulder. The thin metal whined in protest as his large frame slammed into it, dipping it downwards before it bounced the both of them back up.
She threw a boot down again, aiming for his head, but he caught her ankle and spun his body onto his stomach. She was dragged with him as he lifted her leg high, placed his elbow behind her knee, and slammed his weight back over her exposed limb.
Sharp pain shot up her torso from her now damaged leg, but she somehow forced herself to stay awake as spots danced behind her eyes. Gritting her teeth, she yelled as she exerted all her effort into pulling herself forward, rolling onto her back and dragging the still clutching goon with her.
He stumbled over her as she kicked upward with her good leg and shoved a booted toe solidly into his gut. She heard the air forcibly expelled from him before continuing her assault.
She pushed up onto her good leg, ignoring the residual pains of her knee, and threw a fist directly up his torso to his chin. Surprisingly, he dodged and wrapped a larger pair of arms around her now exposed arm.
Before he could even think to reenact his attack on her knee, she turned her back to him, grabbed either side of his head, and pulled downward as she threw her good knee as hard as possible into the bridge of his nose.
The impact on her knee was painful, but nowhere near as much as what her victim had felt. The small trickle of blood that immediately started pouring from his broken nose was all the proof she needed that he was incapacitated.
Like a rag doll, he collapsed to the metal and flopped a few feet before settling. She dropped to her back as well, somehow forcing herself to sit up as new pains echoed through her. The man groaned, clearly not as unconscious as she believed.
"Ow," he mumbled.
"Ditto," she grimaced as the adrenaline began to wear off and the pain started to set in more vehemently.
She growled as the bumblers from before had finally started to scale the roof. She prepared herself for more pain, but the sight of the lackey on the roof before her made the remaining few henchmen freeze in place.
"I'd run if I were you," the goon muttered to his allies.
That was all they needed to stumble and fall hilariously back over the edge and down to the safety of wherever Kim Possible couldn't find them.
"Why did you send them away?" Kim asked.
"I didn't want their help to begin with. It means nothing if I don't take you out alone."
"Honor amongst thugs," she chided. "How noble of you."
Her sarcasm was difficult to miss, but the goon simply lacked the strength to give any real comeback.
"I'll beat you, one day," he said.
"I'll be waiting," she challenged as she pulled out her kimmunicator.
The screen flashed to life and showed a round faced young boy busily typing away on the multitude of computers his room possessed.
"Wade, I need pickup," she said weakly, rubbing her injured knee.
His face immediately shot to her and wore a worried expression, "Everything alright Kim? You look hurt."
She gave a confident smile, not wanting to scare the kid, "Right as rain. I just need a way home. Preferably one that doesn't mind carrying me."
Wade typed frantically on the keyboards, somehow not missing a single keystroke, "Local sightseeing helicopter is on its way to bring you home. Just sit tight in the meantime."
"You rock, Wade," she beamed a smile again, laying it on thick.
While Wade was young, he certainly wasn't stupid. He visibly wanted to question her, but he knew all too well that Kim rarely accepted help unless she absolutely needed it. She hoped he wouldn't push the issue and breathed a sigh of relief when he gave her a half salute and turned off the monitor.
With that taken care of, she rested against the chilling metal of the roof and awaited her pickup.
"Good to see you aren't completely alone," the goon spoke up.
She didn't answer, far too tired to banter with the lackey.
"You can't do this all alone, kid. No matter how good you are."
"Anything's possible," she shrugged.
"Anything, not everything. I'm expendable; I can be replaced with any number of hired help. How long will that knee be allowed to heal before you're right back out here to stop Dementor again? How many more injuries can you handle before you break down?"
She remained silent, fully aware that she had no retort to his questions. It wasn't a scenario that she had ever considered before she lost her partner. She balled her fists from the confused emotions thinking of Ron brought on.
The sound of swirling propellers thankfully ripped her from her musings. A small, red and white helicopter descended over them and just low enough for a man to leap out and stumble precariously to Kim's position.
"You okay, Ms. Possible?" he asked over the propellers.
"Spankin'!" she gave a thumbs up. "I could use a bit of help into the bird, though."
Her embarrassed flush told him all he needed to know. He easily lifted her into his arms and moved back towards the top of the facility. Before placing her inside, she pointed to the goon still lying on the roof.
"We can't leave him!" she yelled over the blades.
"Authorities are on their way! He'll be taken care of!"
With a hesitant nod, she allowed herself to be placed into the back seat of the helicopter and finally relaxed as they lifted off into the Canadian skies.
Kim awoke from a sudden slumber just as they were nearing Middleton. She felt better after seeing her hometown, just as much as every time she returned from a mission. This was her home and it made her feel comfortable from just laying eyes on it.
It wasn't long before they were landing on her front lawn. The yard space had expanded from less than a year ago, when the Lorwardians had destroyed her home and they'd been forced to rebuild.
The new home was similar to the last, besides an extra wing added at her father's behest. Jim and Tim had been causing ruckus in their garage for years, so her father had felt it appropriate to allow the boys a separate space all to themselves for their unbridled creative needs.
Kim's former-loft now-room had also been given a bit more breathing room and a larger bathroom. Yes, she still lived at home after graduating, but she was most at peace here, especially now that the tweebs had less chance of running into her on a daily basis.
Her college planning days had been put on hold for the duration of her house's remodeling, much to her parents' chagrin. She blamed it on worrying about them, which was partly true, but she also was having trouble deciding on her after high school life.
College had always been the idea, but Middleton University lacked a lot of the studies she was interested in, even though the fact that both Ron and Monique attended it made it all the more appealing. Well, not so much the Ron part anymore.
She bit down on that thought process before it took hold. Instead, she tried to appear not so completely useless by edging her body to the big, sliding Plexiglas door as the copilot opened it and reached in for her.
She accepted his help, flushing from embarrassment all the way, but still more willing to be embarrassed than suffer actually walking the distance on whatever was left of her knee. She was looking forward to a nice bath, as warm as possible to work out the kink in her knee, but the sight of her mother at their front door with her hands over her mouth dashed that idea.
The assault of questions began as soon as she was within hearing distance and didn't end until the copilot had thankfully walked her all the way to her loft and placed her on her bed. He was superbly gentle with her injuries and had gone far beyond his simple favor of bringing her home.
"I'm sorry," she began, "but I don't recognize you. Have I helped you before?"
"No, ma'am," he smirked as he was leaving the room. "I'm just a very big fan of what you do."
The pride on her mother's face at his words was short lived as she immediately went into doting mother mode and began inspecting her daughter's injuries. The furrowed brow told Kim all she needed to know about her findings.
"You're going to have to let this leg heal for a bit," her mom stood firm, prepared to deflect her daughter's expected disagreement.
Instead, Kim shocked her, "I know. No more missions until it's healed completely."
Kim knew she appeared crushed to her mother, and to an extent that was true; she'd never spent too long idle before rushing back into the fray. Ann Possible knew her daughter well enough to realize that her sudden agreement to such a disliked idea meant that Kim had something far more serious on mind. If there was one thing she excelled at, it was making her daughter open up.
"You've gone on seven missions now since Ron left you," Ann said softly. "Three of those missions have forced you back home with worse and worse injuries. I'm worried, sweetie."
"Ron didn't leave me," Kim corrected a tad bitterly. "We broke up amicably and then he went to Yamanouchi for a bit."
This was technically untrue. To the shock of quite literally everyone in their lives, Ron had been the one to finalize their break up as a couple. To say Kim herself was surprised would have been a lie. Though she'd never admit it to anyone, she had felt their time together slipping after they'd graduated.
She had been happy with Ron, and he had been happy with her, but there had always seemed to be a barrier between them that kept them from being legitimately close with one another like they'd expected. Everyone had expected true love, but they both knew it had been an experiment at best.
Looking back, she realized that the whole thing had felt badly forced. Still, she was glad that they'd broken it off with some modicum of peace. Ron's absence for the time could only help in the long run, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss him.
Ann sat on her daughter's bed and leaned in for a supportive hug.
"I just worry about your safety. If you can promise me you'll stay out of danger, I can promise you a very comfortable recovery time."
"Sounds great," Kim put on that winning smile and hoped her mother wouldn't pry too deeply.
To her relief, her mom kissed her forehead and left the room to give Kim some time to settle in. Kim detested the idea of staying cooped up inside for the foreseeable future, but her mom was absolutely right. Now was the time for some much needed rest and a lot of internal debate where she was to go from here.
First thing was first; she grabbed her kimmunicator and beeped Wade. He answered within a second, prepared as always.
"Make it home okay?" he asked, still obviously worried for her.
"Of course. I've got a favor to ask, Wade. Can you shut down the site for a bit?"
To say the boy was startled would be a grand understatement. His mouth hung open comically for a few moments before he collected himself.
"How long?" he finally asked.
"Foreseeable future," she decided. "Let everyone know we're very sorry."
"Got it. Kim…this is probably for the best right now."
"I know," she nodded slowly, letting him see she'd thought through the decision.
"You need anything, you'll let me know, right?"
She was touched by his worry. Over the years, she'd watched him grow from a kid genius to a much more confident kid genius. She freely admitted she would have lost a long time ago had she not had Wade to see her through some tricky missions.
"You'll be one of the first," she promised and he smiled.
He logged off and she immediately received a message on her phone telling her that her site had gone down. That was bound to get the attention of a lot of people, but she could worry about that for a later time. Right now, she just wanted to sleep.
Betty Director sorted through the multitude of files neatly arranged across her desk and sighed openly, though no one was able to hear it. The files represented the mundane existence of Global Justice ever since the Lorwardian invasion. Major crime existed still, of course, but the frequency of said crime had diminished alarmingly in the past several months.
Dr. Director herself knew that two Middleton frequenters had officially disappeared from criminal activity.
Drew "Dr. Drakken" Lipsky was now under the employ of GJ as a scientist, doing marvels for society now that he had bosses to direct his creative visions.
Shego had gone off the grid some few days after their award ceremony for their part in the invasion and she'd been impossible to track since then. Though she seemed to be avoiding her previous, villainous ways, Betty held no hope that she could avoid trouble for long.
These were more noticeable to her now that she'd been placed on active duty around the Middleton area, steadfast and waiting to see if the Lorwardians would come back and in larger numbers this time. She had serious doubts, but she wasn't in the position to make that call officially.
A buzz at her office door caught her attention.
"Come in," she called.
She leaned back as Will Du entered the room, hands behind his back with perfect posture. He was the model agent, always had been.
"Report," she commanded.
Will cleared his throat, "Nothing new from the higher ups, Dr. Director, but there is something interesting locally. It seems Kim Possible's website was shut down indefinitely yesterday evening."
Betty narrowed one exposed eye, "Why am I just hearing of this now?"
"Reports from Canadian officials stated that Ms. Possible is injured, but only slightly. Her health and safety weren't a concern, so they assumed it was low priority."
Betty sighed and leaned forward onto her over-sized, mahogany desk, placing her chin on her entangled fingers. They were correct in their assumptions, so she couldn't bring herself to be angry with them. Kim Possible was a subject of great importance, but only to Director herself. Compared to national security, she was barely a blip on GJ's radar.
"Also," Will continued, "several hours after the site was downed, our Person of Interest G1 began to move without bothering to conceal their movement."
"Where is she now?"
Will pulled out a small device and pressed a button, prompting the entirety of Betty's office wall to slide several inches backward and rise into the ceiling. A multi-monitored display covered the opposite wall and displayed a map of North America.
Satellite imagery began to pinpoint a specific area of highway, frame by frame becoming closer and closer until it showed a lone motorcycle driving dangerously fast. The driver was concealed with heavy, black leathers with red knee pads and gloves, and a helmet with a skull over most of the face, but Betty knew who hid under the disguise.
"She has a helmet headset, correct?" Betty looked to Will, who nodded. "Patch me into it."
She picked up a small headset fixed permanently into her desk and listened as the two headsets communicated with errant beeping noises. The beeping turned to ringing, which was immediately picked up by the cyclist.
"How did you get this number?" the female voice sounded hollow from the helmet.
"No number is outside our reach, no matter how hard you try."
"Aren't you special?" she chided.
"This isn't about me. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"
"Don't know what you mean."
Betty scoffed, "You're in Upperton, heading towards Middleton. Nice bike."
She didn't respond, which was alright. Betty knew exactly where she was heading and kept that information to herself. Betty knew more than anyone in the company about what the woman had been up to in the last few months.
"You going to need any backup?" Betty asked, fully expecting her answer.
"One and only warning," the woman growled. "Keep GJ away or you'll regret it."
With that, the line severed. The satellite picked up the movements of the biker as she reached inside her helmet and forcibly disconnected the headset before tossing it on the open road. Betty chuckled as the driver sped onward towards Middleton.
"Should we be worried?" Will asked dubiously.
"Not for ourselves, no," she replied as she opened another folder and began her monotonous work again. "Dismissed."
Will hesitantly scowled in his boss' direction before leaving the one-eyed director to her task.
Ann Possible stood at the backdoor of their family vehicle as she reached in and passed out bags of groceries to her husband and their twin sons. She'd splurged on a bit extra to make up for Kim being bed ridden the next few days and silently hoped the teen would take it easy for a bit longer. Sadly, she knew her daughter was not one to stay trapped inside for long periods.
She'd swung by the hospital where she worked and gotten a leg brace and crutches, Kim's idea as the teen didn't want to be completely helpless during her stay. Coupled with her desire to be out and about, Ann began to worry that her daughter wouldn't be taking the utmost precautions in allowing herself to heal.
If only someone could be there to watch over her most of the day. Unfortunately, Ann was a busy neurosurgeon, her husband stayed at the office more often than not, and the twins weren't old enough or responsible enough to take care of their sister without driving her absolutely bananas.
If only Ron were still here…she shook her head, clearing those thoughts before they attached. Her daughter's breakup was bizarre, all things considered, as no one had ever believed Ron would be the one to call them quits. What bothered her most was the fact that Kim had only grieved their breakup for a day before moving on to focusing strictly on her missions.
Kim was mature enough to deal with real life problems, but her relative ease in getting over their relationship was startling. It was almost as if they never expected it to last to begin with. That was a sad thought and one she discovered she wasn't as surprised about.
The roaring of an engine pulled her from her doldrums and she looked out to their yard to see a lone motorcycle coast onto where the sidewalk met the grass. A featureless, jet black sports bike sat suspiciously facing towards their house, an even more suspicious rider atop it. The combination full set of leathers and riding helmet made it impossible to decipher who the person was, but the way the outfit hugged their slender frame made it evident it was a female.
The rider pushed the kickstand out and dismounted the bike, head sweeping back and forth as she reached the middle of their front yard and turned to face back the way she'd come. She didn't even glance in Ann's direction as she knelt down into a sitting position and waited.
Ann made eye contact with her husband James, who shrugged in response to the strange visitor. Ann patted the boys to hurry inside with their father as she approached the biker with great hesitation.
"Can I help you?" Ann asked.
The rider turned slightly towards her, "Nope."
The muffled voice gave no clue to its owner's origin.
Ann stepped closer, "Why are you on my lawn?"
"Is the hero inside?" the biker ignored her question outright.
Ann blinked, "You mean Kim? Yes, she's resting."
"I heard she was injured on a mission."
Ann nodded, "Not severely, but she needs time to heal."
"I'm here to ensure she gets that time. Is her boy toy inside to protect her?"
"Protect her from what?" Ann suddenly asked, but the helmeted woman didn't bother responding. "No, Ron isn't inside, he's…he's not in the country right now."
The woman scoffed, "Figures he wouldn't be here when he's actually needed."
Ann wanted to keep the teens' relationship status as unknown as possible, but there was something about the way the woman spoke about the duo. She seemed almost familiar with them, talking as though she knew them for many years.
"Ron and Kim aren't together anymore," Ann spoke softly. "That's the only reason he isn't here."
The reaction to that factoid was surprisingly immediate. It was subtle, but Ann saw the woman's posture straighten and her head rise ever so slightly.
Then, the woman laughed joylessly, "Wow. I thought those two would be together forever."
"How do you know my daughter?" Ann finally decided to pry.
"I'm not up for twenty questions right now," the biker gave a dismissive wave. "Give me an hour or so and I'll be gone."
Ann severely disliked the fashion that she was being dismissed with, but there was a small voice in her head that told her she did not want to agitate this visitor. She'd watched her daughter train and grow into a dangerous martial artists and she saw the same precise movements from this woman.
Whatever her motives, Ann believed that she didn't mean her daughter any harm and that was all she worried about for the time being. Now, she had to decipher exactly what Kim was in danger from and what this woman intended to do if it showed.
Her first move was to question her daughter's knowledge of their visitor, to which Kim had only offered a confused shrug. They both watched from Kim's bedroom window, checking on the biker who still sat patiently on the manicured lawn. Eventually, Ann lost interest and began to focus on preparing dinner for her family.
Kim racked her brain for any clue about the identity of the biker in her yard, but she always came up with nothing substantial. The bike and leathers instantly made her think of Hirotaka, the exchange student from Yamanouchi, but the clearly feminine physique nixed that idea.
She knew of several females who were close enough to have an interest in she and Ron's relationship, as her mom had claimed the woman outside behaved knowledgeable in regards to, but they all simply didn't fit the person stationed comfortably affront her house.
With little to no answers prevalent, Kim simply rested in between checking the window to see if the person ever moved. It wasn't until around five in the afternoon that there was any hint of activity and she'd just happened to check outside.
The biker was just beginning to stand as Kim noticed a small group of men, five in all, walking onto the yard. They were dressed over conspicuously, in the fashion of the Ninja Turtles, wide brimmed hats and retro styled trench coats. They were all large men and she realized they were henchmen of some variety impossible to tell from their disguises.
They stopped before the woman, who regarded them with a clearly threatening manner. Interested, Kim raised her window open, giving her a clear, close view of the altercation seemingly about to take place.
"Possible has a body guard?" one of the henchmen said. "Since when couldn't the little girl fight her own battles?"
"No bodyguard," the woman replied dryly. "I'm doing this for free, so you've caught me in a very sour mood. I suggest not doing something you'll regret."
"Regret's on your end, honey. Possible's down and we're here to make sure she decides to stay down."
The woman craned her neck and shook her shoulders, clearly limbering up for what was to come, "Beating on an already injured opponent? Jack Hench taught you boys better than that. Still, garden variety punching bags like you aren't hired for their intelligence."
Agitated, the lead henchman ran for her, revealing a concealed stun stick. The woman stood her ground as the others followed him.
Kim wanted to help, wanted to know exactly who this person was that was effectively running defense for her while she was injured. She had training of some kind, that much was evident from her stances, but she wondered how she would fare against five armed men.
Her answer came in the form of fast, fluid, lithe movements as the biker weaved and dodged in between every attack the henchmen could muster, making them look like the amateurs they were. She almost seemed to be playing with them, never counterattacking and allowing her moves to frustrate the attackers into making even more mistakes.
Kim watched in awe as her mind began to inform her that she recognized these movements. She'd been on the receiving end of some of these attacks, but it couldn't be who she thought it was…could it?
At last, the biker tired of the games and systematically began attacking. With only a single blow per goon, she had them all unconscious and sprawled on the lawn within two minutes. The entire altercation had taken barely a minute over that and Kim was almost certain she knew who the mysterious biker was.
With hesitant speed, she maneuvered onto her crutches and rushed downstairs, ignoring the call from her mother for her to be careful. She threw open their front door just as the biker was walking back to her motorcycle.
"Wait!" Kim called as she struggled through the grass, but the biker kept walking.
"I called the authorities," the woman called back. "This trash should be off your lawn soon."
She threw a leg over the cycle, preparing to leave despite Kim's pleas. Kim couldn't let her go before she'd gotten answers. Her efforts were beginning to wear on her and she knew that she wouldn't make it in time to physically stop her.
In a last ditch effort, she fell to her good knee and gave one last call to the woman.
The woman finally acknowledged her enough to turn her helmeted head in her direction. With an audible sigh, she reached up and unhooked the chin strap of her helmet. Silky black hair cascaded out from the helmet as she lifted it from her and hooked it onto the post on the back part of her cycle.
"The point of a disguise, Pumpkin," the green skinned woman began, "is so people don't realize it's me."
She was right! No one could move like the former villain, an equal to Kim herself in combat abilities. Her mysterious excitement over seeing the woman was immediately followed by her body, affected by her injury and too much recent sleep, announcing it was done for the day by making her pass out.
It was clearly night time by the time she awoke again and she was surprised to find herself resting comfortably on her own bed. She lay there for a moment, allowing her brain to relive the moments prior to her unconsciousness.
As soon as her thoughts came to Shego, she lurched from the bed with all the clumsiness of an injured person and limped to the bedroom window. Outside, the darkened sky told her it had to have been several hours past her passing out, but she was astonished to see that the green woman's bike was still outside.
Questions stopped just short in her brain as she realized that she couldn't answer any of them. Instead, she retrieved a single crutch and headed downstairs to find the person who could. The sound of voices carried throughout the upstairs and she was oddly excited to hear Shego's dry voice mixed in with her parents'.
She downed the stairs with far more ease than she used previously, and rounded the corner to see her mother in the finishing stages of washing dishes. Her father stood next to her as he dried each one she handed him and both looked like they had befuddled looks on their faces.
Their discomfort clearly came from the former superhero sitting at their dinner table, hands cupped around a coffee mug. Shego looked for the all the world like she was bored out of her skull, but the fact that she was attempting to carry on a conversation with Kim's parents was entirely unexpected.
Shego made eye contact with Kim first and her first reaction was to roll her eyes and lift up her hand, opening and closing her fingers in a talking motion. Kim couldn't help the giggle that escaped her.
"You're awake," her mom turned to her with a smile. "Your food's in the fridge."
"Thanks," Kim started for the fridge, but Shego stood and jabbed a finger towards the seat across from her.
"Sit," she commanded and walked to the fridge, pulling out a plate covered in aluminum foil.
Kim was substantially dumbfounded as she unconsciously followed orders, plopping down in the chair as Shego tossed her food in the microwave.
"…Thank you, Shego," Ann stuttered before throwing her daughter an inquisitive eyebrow.
Kim only shrugged as she clearly had no clue where to begin deciphering Shego's out of character behavior. Still, she was avoiding a fight that Kim clearly wasn't able to win at this time, so she'd take anything at the moment.
Food heated, Shego plopped the plate noisily before the redhead and took her seat opposite her, leaning back and rocking the chair on two legs. She didn't appear eager to speak, so Kim took the opportunity to appease her currently growling stomach.
"We were just thanking Shego for defending you earlier," Ann sat next to her daughter and rustled her hair.
"I wouldn't call it defending," Shego interjected. "I just hate seeing grown men pick on the injured. There's no respect amongst villains anymore."
"Not that I couldn't take them," Kim said between mouthfuls.
Shego merely grinned in response.
"So, what's the occasion?" Kim asked. "It wasn't only to defend me, or else you wouldn't still be here."
The woman suddenly bit her lip, seemingly nervous of the question everyone seemed to be curious over. She didn't answer immediately, which held Kim's attention much more effectively than any of her behavior thus far.
Shego was not one to mince words or even hide what she was really thinking, so her hesitance only served to increase Kim's curiosity to a fever pitch. It took a hesitant glance from the woman to Kim's parents for her to understand her hesitance.
"I think I should talk to Shego alone," Kim patted her mom's hand.
Ann opened her mouth to disagree, but she knew her daughter was more than capable of handling herself even while injured. She simply kissed her daughter's forehead and gave a final thanks to the green woman before walking into the living room with James.
Kim stood and beckoned Shego to follow, who gave a thankfully silent sigh in response. It wasn't as strange of a feeling as Kim was expecting to have her once mortal enemy walking through her house, up her stairs, and into her loft. It wasn't as easy as having Monique visit, but it wasn't as jarring as having a villain over ought to have been.
Once upstairs, Shego made a show of almost slamming the door shut and growling in irritation.
"God, your parents are even more boringly apple pie than you are!"
Her outburst certainly wasn't expected, but the feeling of disappointment that followed it was more palpable than even Kim had been expecting.
"Ah, there you are," Kim said dejectedly as she tossed her crutch to the floor and flopped onto her bed.
Shego must have noticed her mood shift, because the next words out of her mouth were much softer.
"No offense, okay. They just remind me of my brothers. You're not that bad."
It did little to brighten her. She didn't know why she was disappointed or why she had expected anything else from the brazen woman. It had been so long since they'd seen one another that she was hoping there had been a priority shift since the Lorwardian invasion.
Maybe…maybe she was just hoping Ms. Go would have walked through the door instead. Every encounter with Shego after her brief switch from evil to good was difficult for Kim simply because they'd gotten much closer than she could have imagined. She wondered if Shego even remembered that time or even saw it as something positive.
"I'm surprised you'd keep these around," Shego pulled her attention outward.
The woman stood next to her vanity and held a framed photo of herself, Ron, and Rufus. It was one of her favorite memories of her now ex-boyfriend and his pet and she couldn't imagine ridding herself of it.
"Who'd have thought you and the buffoon wouldn't last," she almost seemed to be speaking to herself.
"Why are you here?" Kim spat, angrier than she was intending.
Shego shot her an annoyed glance before returning the picture, "Something bothering you, Possible?"
"You're bothering me," she grabbed a pillow and hugged it. "I'm grateful for your help with the thugs outside, but if you're here to tease me about my breakup with Ron, then I'm not in the mood."
Shego took the obvious posture of leaning against the wall and throwing her hands into her jacket pockets. They'd already gotten on each others nerves and that was the thing that cinched Kim's belief that they could never be friends again, not like when she was brain washed.
Kim felt pathetic from the thought, not so much that they were so opposite one another in every conceivable way, but the fact that she would even think Shego would be better brainwashed again. For as fun as Ms. Go had been, she always reminded herself that it wasn't Shego's choice to be that way.
This was the real Shego: loud, unapologetic, condescending and pouting in Kim's room as neither of them chose to speak to bury the growing tension between them. Only two choices remained for them to even consider friendship: either Shego turn to good or Kim becomes evil and both were equally unlikely of happening.
Perhaps they were always simply meant to be enemies. Except now, according to Global Justice, Shego's days of villainy had halted ever since the invasion was thwarted. She'd skipped town almost as soon as Drakken had started accepting paychecks from GJ. Though there were no reports of trouble anywhere she was eventually located, Kim couldn't bring herself to believe the woman had found something more worthwhile to do with her vast talent and free time.
A sudden sputter from Shego startled her, "Can't believe I'm doing this. Okay, Princess, you want to know why I'm here? Like a fool, I got an idea in my head that seems more and more foolish the more it's in there. I was going to just leave after bashing the henchmen, but you had to stop me. Soooo, here it comes…"
She inhaled shakily, obviously dreading whatever she were about to say. Kim had never seen the woman this hesitant, so much so that she was captivated into watching her intently as she spoke.
Shego breathed, "Why haven't you joined Global Justice yet? Truthfully?"
Kim blinked in confusion from the sudden question, "I...just didn't. I couldn't see myself as part of them."
"I value one thing over everything else, Shego, and that's trust. While Dr. Director and the agents are good people, I can't trust them like I do Ron or Rufus or Monique. I can't fight next to people I can't fully trust. Plus, they wanted to make me a soldier, trained to behave and act just like everyone else. I'm too much of an individual to be a soldier."
"You value your identity over their ideals," Shego nodded approvingly.
"I respect their ideals; I just don't believe it has to be accomplished their way. They're so methodical, even predictable, and you know me. I'm a leap through the window sort of girl."
Shego smiled, actually smiled, from Kim's words, "And that's why they'd slow you down, Cupcake. You're better than all of them. You need people who can keep up with you."
"I'm not as good as I thought I was," Kim mumbled, lifting her injured knee for emphasis.
"That's because you've been alone for the past few missions. As intolerable as the buffoon was, he was still there to have your back. You're talented beyond compare, but you're only human."
"I've heard this speech recently," Kim grumbled and looked away.
"It's not a speech, its advice. Some that you should take to heart before something worse happens to you."
Kim sighed and hugged her pillow tighter. She wanted her Pandaroo, but there was no way she was going to grasp onto her stuffed toy with her enemy in the room. She'd never hear the end of it.
"In case you haven't noticed," Kim began, "I'm missing a few key components for a team. Namely, other people who I can trust. I still have Wade, but he's a strictly stay at base type."
Shego had no comeback for that bit and so they both remained silent for several moments more. Kim was all too aware that Ron and Rufus' absence had left a sizable hole in her life that would not be easily filled in the near future.
"So, Team Possible is over? Are you finally retiring?"
Kim couldn't look at her as she spoke the next word, "Probably."
Shego pushed herself from the wall and paced back and forth before Kim's bed. She clearly had more to say, but she looked to be choosing the right words to begin with. Finally, she faced the redhead with a sudden look of complete seriousness.
"I agree. I think it's time for Team Possible to disappear."
Kim's heart sunk at the words, but she could bring forth no argument against the idea.
"It's time to move on to something greater," she continued. "Team Possible is no more. I'm going freelance, Kim, and I'm going to be starting my own team…"
She moved to the bed and extended a hand to her adversary. The hope and fear evident in the older woman's eyes was foreign as far as Kim knew her. Still, it was the hopeful smile she wore that excited Kim for some strange reason, even more so than her response to her next words.
"…and I want you to be a part of it."
Author's Note: Prize to the first reader who can tell me what Shego's biker leathers are a reference to.
I wanted to make this story less dramatic and more fun like the show, but it just came out so serious due to the overall tone. I'm pleased with how it turned out, so no regrets there. Plus, I sense fun shenanigans in the future, so there's plenty of make-up time. Feedback and comments are encouraged and appreciated.
If you enjoyed this story, then please check out my official novel I've written Ordo Draconum: The Lazarus Vial on Smashwords dot com.