OMG Another KP/IM Fusion! squeals like a rabid fangirl!
cough straightens shirt Untrue to my style, I decided to add a foreword. Mainly because I know that Classic Cowboy has a similar KP/IM story out there. So first, I'd politely request that everyone give me a chance with this. I hope my story will be different enough from what Classic Cowboy has planned out and from the movie itself, since with this fic I haven't been influenced by what he has so far. Except the beginning. But it will be different!
With that said, I repeat myself and request humbly: give this story a chance, and I hope you find it enjoyable.
Monique growled in frustration as she arrived outside the Stoppable beach home. Her employer was running late, and his liaison to both Global Justice and the United States Military was more than a little tweaked, calling her and demanding updates every five minutes as to his current whereabouts. As Monique was unable to find him anywhere in his office, it was her responsibility as his personal assistant and unofficial handler to hunt him down and give him the tongue lashing he deserved.
She unlocked the front door and let herself into the grand mansion that neatly perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Bay Area. The view, with its own private beach and dozens of acres inland, was breathtaking, but she'd long since gotten used to the scenery presented by the literal wall of windows the house offered. After all, she'd been here dozens of times in the prior month alone. Unfortunately, her responsibilities involved her too deeply in his personal life, and she had become more than accustomed to finding her employer deeply engrossed in his workshop at home while there were papers to be signed and important meetings to be held. Ron Stoppable, despite, or perhaps in spite, of his past was an important man. Distracted, but important.
He had been a late bloomer, living most of his life coasting lazily until a year after graduating from community college. A switch had been thrown in him, and his drive for success had no equal. Finally tapping into his potential, he obtained his PhD. in mechanical engineering and applied physics within two years, a feat that would have been impressive enough, if not for the six patents registered with the World Intellectual Property Office by that time.
Thus his early fortune was already made. But even before his graduation, he had set up a company called Stoppable Enterprises along with co-founder, Dr. Wade Load, a personal friend with a long history, and a PhD. in computer science and integrative technology. Together, they delved into the lucrative market of weapons manufacturing, coming a long way from Ron's past experience with his potato-tosser-cum-plasma-catapult during his brief stint as a would-be world conqueror.
Their company grew quickly, offering superior weapons program that quickly dwarfed the competition. Due to this rapid growth, they had added a third brain to the budding company. It had come as a surprise when Dr. Drew Lipsky was hired as Head of Research and Engineering, a very senior post that only reported directly to Dr. Wade Load, the CEO of Stoppable Enterprises.
Ron Stoppable had only remarked that it was ironic that Dr. Lipsky's weapons which were once used to terrorize the world would now be used to save the world.
Within five years, Stoppable Enterprises had leapfrogged to the forefront of its competition, as it displayed a creative tenacity in designing newer and more efficient weapons. It was named as the upcoming company to watch by Fortune magazine, and its stock had triple in prices every year ever since its inception. The Stoppable trademark had become known effective and superior weapons, and soldiers regularly remarked that holding a Stoppable in their hands would prove that they are anything but stoppable.
However, that particular Stoppable was currently missing in action and about to miss a very important weapons demonstration in Afghanistan in a few hours. Monique glanced around the grand house, wondering which bedroom her employer is currently sleeping in. Three storeys high, twenty different rooms, sported on the rocky outcrop of a cliff overlooking the bay, it offered an ocean view with a none-too-humbling price tag of one hundred and eight million dollars. It had only cost Ron last year's bumper dividends only. Spying a trail of loosely strewn clothes, a tense smile crept to her face as she followed the evidence.
"Excuse me, Mr. Stoppable," she called out loudly as she barged into the bedroom, seemingly without regard for his privacy. "I would like to remind you that you are late for your eight o'clock meeting."
"Just five more minutes," Ron called tiredly from under the silken sheets of his oversized bed.
Pursing her lips, Monique could clearly make out more than one figure underneath the sheets. "Let's go, Ron," she sighed tersely. "Kim's waiting."
At the mention of her name, Ron rolled out of bed with a grumpy look on his face, "What does she want?"
"She wants you to meet her at eight o'clock at your private airfield," Monique replied evenly. "You have a demonstration for Global Justice in Afghanistan later this afternoon, and you're already behind schedule."
"Let her wait," Ron waved his hand dismissively, as he scrambled into a pair of boxers. "Besides, we have time. What time is it?"
Coolly ignoring her naked employer putting on his clothes, she glanced at her watch, "It's ten fifteen."
"Oh, we still have forty five more minutes," Ron yawned, as he walked towards the bathroom.
Shaking her head, Monique strode over to the sleeping figure and shook her shoulder roughly. "Excuse me, miss, but you're going to have to leave now. Mr. Stoppable is on a tight schedule."
"Whu-…" A disheveled looking red-head with smeared make-up glanced dazedly at the woman bearing down on her. Pulling her sheets tightly around her to hide her nudity, she blushed as deeply as the color of her hair, as she spoke, "Oh, you must be the Monique Potts that I've heard so much about… Personal aide to Ron Stoppable… Why don't you go back to picking up Ron's dry cleaning or take out the trash or whatever it is you do and let me go to sleep?"
Monique bit the inside of her lower lip as she glared at the woman. "Miss, I will have a taxi for you outside in fifteen minutes, and I suggest you better not miss it. You are no different than half the floozies who happen to waltz into Mr. Stoppable's underpants, and if you think you're any different, rest assured, I've seen better bodies and better personalities than yours in strip clubs."
"Why you… I'll have you know that I'm the Fiona Rogers, and I have modeled for…" the woman started her tirade before it was cut short by a deadly glare from Monique.
"I'll have you know that I don't care, and while it's not my job to take out the trash," Monique replied sweetly. "I do enjoy taking out the trash."
The red-head wilted under Monique's baleful eye, as she scurried out of bed and grabbed her scattered clothing. Satisfied that the woman had disappeared out of earshot, she turned her attention back to her employer and looked crossly at him as he stepped out of the bathroom.
"Don't give me that look, Monique," Ron warned her. "I don't pay you to interfere with my personal life."
"Actually, Ron," Monique replied stiffly. "That's exactly what you've paid me to do for years. After all, it's your personal life that needs the most reorganizing."
"Leave me alone, Monique," Ron groaned, as he slipped on a plain white t-shirt. "I'm headed down to the workshop."
"Ron, you're already more than two hours late for your meeting with Kim," Monique reminded her employer again.
"She can wait," Ron replied nonchalantly.
"Ron, stop playing these games! Why do you keep doing these things to her?" Monique suddenly asked. "Making her wait for you, intentionally tweaking her as much as possible and bringing home red-headed floozies to have countless one night stands."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ron stiffened up, as he replied. "It's just how I live. It has nothing to do with her."
"Then why are you so stubborn around her?" Monique asked pointedly. "You can't hide it from me. You've been trying to make her life difficult ever since I started working for you."
Ron just grunted in annoyance as he walked down a circular staircase to his workshop. "I'm not," he replied defensively.
"Are you still in love with her?" Monique replied, following closely behind her employer.
"Of course not!" Ron shot back quickly. Too quickly.
A small predatory smile crept to her face as Monique smelled a chink in his armor. "Oh really? Then have you ever noticed that you have a tendency to have one night stands with red-heads?"
"I do not!" Ron denied, as he turned his attention to his workbench, pressing a few buttons on the side panel. He sat down on his computer chair and began clicking away with his mouse.
"Last night it was Fiona, the night before Amanda, the night before that Melanie…" Monique pointed out. "Three for three red-heads, I might add."
"Who's Fiona?" Ron asked genuinely, as he perused the blueprints on his computer. He tapped a few keys lazily and played around with the 3D function of the model on his computer.
"She's the red-head currently washing up upstairs," Monique reminded him. "Face it; you're still stuck on her."
"What about Bonnie?" Ron pointed out. "She's not a red-head."
"Yeah, but you slept with her knowing that it would tweak Kim off the most," Monique answered. "Face it, Ron, you're still hung up on Kim, and it sure would make my life a lot easier if you would settle the issues between the two of you."
"I'm not the one with issues," Ron growled, annoyed at the direction his personal assistant was treading.
"Then why did you have to sleep with Kim's cousin, Joss, and then rub it in her face the very next day?" Monique replied. "That sounds like you're full of issues."
"Hey, she started it!" Ron replied quickly. "She rubbed it in my face with Dan, her latest pretty boy toy."
"Dan was her boyfriend for the last six months," Monique groaned, as she recalled the day when Ron found out about Dan. He had been more than angry, choosing to disappear for a few days, leaving his work behind, and coming back drunk with half a dozen floozies on each arm.
"Yeah, well, see? Isn't Dan like her eighth boyfriend this year or something?" Ron replied hotly. "Who does she think she is to comment on who I sleep with?"
"Dan is only her second boyfriend in four years," Monique sighed loudly. "You know Kim, her job as commander of Global Justice has her running around the world more than ever before. With the expanding of Global Justice's role to fight terrorism, Kim's been as busy as ever. I'm just glad that she can find time for dating."
"If she can find time for dating, Global Justice isn't giving her enough work…" Ron sneered, as he slammed down hard on his keyboard. Getting up from his chair, he strode upstairs. "I'm in no mood for this. What's next on my schedule?"
"Right," Monique smiled wryly. "You have an eight o'clock meeting at your private airfield."
"Fine," Ron growled, as he went upstairs to slip into his business suit.
"Hey, Ron," Kim, dressed in her official navy blue Global Justice suit, greeted her long-time best friend and once ex-boyfriend on the tarmac in front of the waiting private jet stiffly. "What took you so long?"
"I overslept," Ron shrugged nonchalantly. "C'mon, let's get this show on the road. Where's the champagne?" He purposely strode past Kim and jogged up the steps, ducking inside the plane as if he was right on time.
Kim sighed as she watched the antics of her friend. Turning her attention back to Ron's constant shadow and personal assistant, she said, "Thanks for getting him, Monique."
"It's no big, Kim," Monique smiled at her friend. "You know how it is with Ron. I still don't know how you can be so patient with him."
"Another one?" Kim asked off-handedly as she cast a glance towards the jet.
Monique just nodded. "Someday, I'd just like to knock some sense into that boy of ours," Monique sighed tiredly.
"Hey, hey," Kim laughed uneasily. "He's worth a lot to Global Justice right now."
"But that doesn't give him the right to do anything he wants," Monique replied. "Well, I won't hold you back any more; seems like Ron has kept you waiting enough. Just have him back here by tomorrow morning, he has a luncheon with his board of directors."
"Sure, Monique," Kim nodded. "I'll have him back in one piece."
"At least rough him up a little," Monique smiled.
They both shared a laugh over their mutual friend. "We should go out sometime. I do miss hanging out with you," Kim commented. "It's just that so many things have been happening…"
"I know, I know," Monique interrupted her. "You're very busy… Global Justice has you running around, playing babysitter to Mr. Big Shot over there. Funny thing is, Ron seems to have so much time on his hands."
"It's because he has a very capable personal assistant working for him to sort out his life," Kim replied with a smile.
"It's tough work," Monique sighed. "Any chance you might want to hire a personal assistant for your life instead?"
"Monique!" Kim laughed. "I can't afford you! Global Justice doesn't pay me enough for my work."
"Too bad then," Monique shrugged. "I guess I'll have to put up with Ron for just a little longer."
"Should I tell him that you're looking for another employer?" Kim asked with a glint in her eye.
"Nah," Monique smiled conspiratorially. "He'll never survive without me. How do you think I convinced him to give me that Christmas bonus?"
"Monique, Monique, Monique," Kim grinned. "At least he treats you well."
"I wish I could say the same for you…" Monique replied, when suddenly someone yelled out from behind them.
"Hey!" Ron stuck his head out of the plane. "There's only two bottles of champagne in here! Monique! I need you to run down to the store and get me a whole case!"
"Right," Monique humored her employer as she yelled back. With a wink, she looked at her friend and said, "Well, Kim, he's your problem now!"
"Right," Kim groaned. "I better go before he gets any other ideas into that head of his."
"See you later then," Monique waved to her friend.
Kim smiled and nodded as she walked away towards the plane, and climbed the steps into the cabin. As she stepped in, she saw Ron happily sitting on one of the wide leather seats with a bubbly blonde hair stewardess on his lap. With one of his hands holding a full champagne flute, and the other on the lower back of the stewardess, exploring lower and lower…
"Ron…" Kim said sternly, as she glared at the stewardess on his lap.
With a little squeak, the stewardess jumped to her feet and smoothed her uniform before giving Kim a curt nod and hurrying to the aft of the plane.
"Aww… Kim…" Ron groaned. "Did you have to spoil my fun?"
"Ron, we're here to show the military in Afghanistan what your latest invention can do," Kim replied seriously.
"But it's a ten-hour flight!" Ron let out another groan.
"Hey, would you rather spend ten hours catching up with your best friend, or in the plane's wash closet with…?" Kim tilted her head towards the aft of the plane.
"Hmm…" Ron pretended to think for a moment. "Tough choice… Could you please repeat that?"
"Hey!" Kim smacked Ron on the arm as she sat down next to him. "You know, I didn't have to come with you. You wanted me to go with you."
"Right, right," Ron grinned cheekily. "Besides, I figured I might do you a favor and steal you away from GJ for a minute. After all, what's more fun than baby-sitting a VIP into a war zone?"
"I could think of half a dozen other things," Kim rolled her eyes as she replied. "You know I didn't have to come. But I realized that we haven't spent as much time together as I would like to."
"Yeah, me too," Ron replied, before turning quickly away, realizing what he had just let slip.
A small grin crept onto her face as she watched her long-time best friend morph from egocentric, self-obsessed billionaire playboy into a shy and supportive boy she had always known through her childhood. "So tell me…" Kim began. "What's new in your life?"
"Well, I'm currently working on…" Ron began rattling on, espousing his latest inventions and plans. Much to his delight, his best friend and one-time girlfriend nodded her head as she listened with rapt attention to his stories.
As the plane taxied on the runway and took off, the two friends were talking again like they always had.
Ron peered through his sunglasses at the faces of all the army generals looking anxiously at him. Casting his eyes to the side, he noticed that Kim gave him a reassuring smile. Oh well, now it was his time to shine…
"Lady," he nodded towards Kim. "And gentlemen… Some people would have you believe that the best weapon is one that you'll never have to fire." Pausing for full dramatic effect, he smiled at the unemotional faces of those looking at him. "I respectfully disagree. I believe that the best weapon is one that you'll only have to fire once. That's how America's done it so far, and it's worked out perfectly fine. Unfortunately, there's always going to be that one force, that one group that's so entrenched, so hard to get to, that we find we need a better weapon... With that said, I present to you: the Unstoppable!"
He raised the remote control in his right hand and thumbed the huge red button on it. With a smile on his face, he watched as the surface missile platform fired a single five-meter long, sleek and deadly looking missile. Cruising rapidly to a cruising height of eight hundred feet, the onboard sensors quickly calculated and cross-referenced the painted target area below with its onboard map of the target area. Adjusting for wind speed and varying height of ground terrain, it poured on speed towards the target area roughly one half mile away while locking onto its multiple targets quickly and blew the side panels from itself.
Cages holding the payload of twenty missiles began to spin, spitting the smaller, shorter range, but far faster and more agile missiles out in different directions. The smaller missiles briefly communicated with the main missile's targeting computer to confirm their targets and sped away on small, intense bursts of energy from the repulsor engines that took place of normal rocket engines. Far smaller than traditional rocket engines, they gave a far greater power to weight ratio in a package over seventy percent smaller than was possible with a traditional chemical engine. This allowed not only targeting and maneuvering systems to be built in while lowering the weight and allowing the missile to carry a heavier payload than was normal. The deadly missiles, having confirmed their targets, homed in on with deadly accuracy at over two miles per second.
With his back turned towards the weapons testing area, Ron smiled as the generals looked on in awe at the sight of twenty independent missiles looking for, acquiring, and homing in on their targets, both stationary and moving. Explosions rocked the ground as thermobaric warheads exploded, devastating the target area with both the initial explosion and the vacuum left behind. He raised his arms like a messiah, as the rolling clouds of smoke and dust billowed up behind him, before the shockwave of the
blast swept past them. Ron grinned as an especially short and rotund general lost his hat as it was quickly swept away in the dust cloud.
A loud wave of applause was heard, as the winds died down. Bowing politely, he spoke up, "And there you have it, the Unstoppable. Order now, for a modest price of five million a missile, and you'll get a bulk discount if you order fifty or more. And I also do give referral discounts…"
The generals were quick to shake his hand and offer congratulations on a successful demonstration, as well as promises of orders to come. After a few obligatory handshakes, he strode towards Kim, and smiled at her. "How do you like it?" Ron asked.
"That was… Impressive…" Kim complimented him.
"Only the latest from Stoppable Enterprises," Ron nodded nonchalantly. "Now if you would excuse me, I must be heading back…"
"Wait," Kim held him back for a moment. "I still have a few things to take care of. I need to talk to some Global Justice operatives in the area."
"Shah… Kim…" Ron tilted his head as he looked at her. "I'm a busy man, you know. I got a schedule to keep. Look, tell you what, I'll go on ahead myself and then we'll meet up some other time, okay?"
"I don't know, Ron," Kim looked at him with mild concern. "I'm responsible for your safety and I'm supposed to get you back to America in one piece."
"It's alright. I appreciate your concern but I don't need it," Ron dismissed her worries with an airy wave of his hand. "Besides, I got these boys to take care of me. America's finest." He waved over to a couple of soldiers standing by a convoy of Humvees. "Look, I'll meet you up back home, alright?"
"Right," Kim grudgingly agreed. "Take care. It's rough out here."
"Ah, I'll be fine," Ron grinned. "The Ron Factor never fails."
"Uh huh," Kim couldn't quite explain the ominous feeling in her stomach while watching the back of her best friend as he walked towards the Humvees. She hoped that this wouldn't be the last time she would ever see him again.
"So what's the deal here?" Ron asked the somber soldier sitting next to him in the Humvee that's part of a convoy cruising down a dirt path back to the military airfield. "C'mon, cheer up guys. It's like someone died in here. What's your name soldier?"
"Private Ryans, sir!" the soldier saluted, as he spoke nervously.
"Hey, to your superiors, you may be Private Ryans," Ron spoke easily. "But I'm not your superior. I'm simply the guy who makes your weapons. So I'm Ron, and you are?"
"Jimmy, sir!" the solder saluted again, much to Ron's chagrin.
"Mr. Stoppable… Forgive Jimmy there, half the soldiers here have bunched up their panties since they heard you were coming," the lieutenant in front turned around to look at him. "Hi, my name's Grace and it's a pleasure to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, Grace," Ron smiled as he accepted her handshake. "See? That's what I'm talking about, Jimmy. It's not nice to be all so uptight. Besides, if you don't tell, I won't either."
"Sir, can I ask you a question?" Jimmy asked as he raised his hand.
"Sure, why not?" Ron replied. "And you don't need to raise your hand."
"Is it true that you're twelve for twelve with the Maxim girls last year?" Jimmy asked curiously.
"Yes and no," Ron grinned at the question. "Miss March and I had a scheduling conflict, but fortunately the Christmas cover was twins."
"Awesome!" Jimmy exclaimed, as Grace rolled her eyes and muttered something. "Hey, so can I ask you another question?" Jimmy asked.
"You already did," Ron nodded his head.
"Could you autograph my rifle for me?" Jimmy asked excitedly. "It's one of yours…"
"Yes, I recognized that immediately. The M-21A low-recoil assault rifle," Ron smiled as he snagged the marker the soldier was holding out. Taking the weapon in his hand, he signed across the barrel in large letters. "Tell you what Jimmy, send me a postcard, and I'll have my guys ship over to you the XM-21 model. Same ammo, but a few tweaks to improve accuracy, and should do so without hurting reliability. And I'll even autograph that one for you too."
"Awesome Mr. Stoppable!" Jimmy smiled with glee. "If it's not too much to ask, can I also take a picture with you?"
"Sure, why not?" Ron grinned, as Jimmy fumbled in his side pocket and handed a digital camera to Grace who was watching her junior in amusement.
"One, two…" Grace counted as she gingerly held the camera up. Before she could say three, a large explosion rocked the Humvee, the vehicle in front of them exploding in a ball of flame and shrapnel.
"RPGs!" the driver roared, as he braked hard.
"Stay inside, Mr. Stoppable!" Grace ordered, as she grabbed her rifle. "Private Ryans! Protect Mr. Stoppable at all costs!"
"Hey, hey!" Ron yelled as the driver leaped out of the vehicle, only to be peppered with a hail of bullets. With his body slumped against the side of the vehicle, he jerked once, twice as more rounds ripped into his body, shredding his internal organs to pieces.
"John! No!" Grace yelled as she ducked behind the front of the truck and tried to return fire. As she peered up from behind her cover, there was a sound of hail of bullets hitting the side of the car, as one ricocheted of the hood and pierced her forehead. She slumped down immediately, with her eyes still wide open in surprise.
Private Jimmy Ryans watched as his two friends fell in a matter of seconds. Turning to Ron, he yelled, "Mr. Stoppable! Stay in here!"
"Wait, what am I…" Ron protested, but it was too late, Private Ryans had already joined the firefight outside.
Ron ducked as bullets rained outside and punctured holes in the side of the Humvee. Deciding that it was too risky to stay inside any longer, he threw open the door and leaped out, crawling his way behind a large rock by the road. As the firefight grew worse, Ron crouched there, having never been more afraid in his life. He reached for his cell phone and was about to call for help when suddenly he heard the tell-tale whistle of a rocket-propelled grenade heading towards him.
"What the…" Ron gasped as the projectile landed with a dull thud besides him. Thinking for a moment that he was saved by a dud, he glanced at it again, at the oddly familiar shaped weapon. His eyes shot wide opened as he recognized the Stoppable Enterprises logo stamped along its side. The AP151-RPG, anti-personnel rocket, designed to detonate five seconds after impact, releasing a deadly shower of shrapnel as its fragile metal casing was burst off and the dozens of shaped, 'designer' shrapnel as Wade had called it burst forth into the target.
"Oh sh-…" Ron screamed before he felt his entire body showered in a firestorm of slivered steel needles. As his nerves screamed in pain, overloading his brain with bursting electrical impulses, and darkness covered his eyes with a shroud darker than any lair he'd been in, he couldn't help but feel a strangely unwelcomed sense of satisfaction that Kim may lose her job because of what had happened to him...
Yeah, I figured Ron would be a jackass, much like the Tony Stark in the comic books: definitely a player - with a penchant for one night stands - and quite the drunkard. I guess it's not that hard to imagine him as Tony Stark, after all, he's a natural at inventing weaponry. He did do a plasma catapult and some weird device on a vacuum cleaner that spins while shooting lasers randomly in some episodes. Maybe it's just because he has a penchant for destruction, things seem to fall apart around him, including his pants.
Funny thing here is Ron's doing everything he can to annoy the Hell out of Kim, and she kinda lets most of the things he does slide. It's a funny dynamic, I figure Ron's pining for her attention and doing everything he can to get it, ever since she broke up with him. From the whole double PhD. thing all the way to his own multibillion dollar enterprise, it does seem like a bid to get her attention. And since that didn't work in getting the both of them back together, I guess Ron's moving on to eliciting some sort of reaction from Kim in the least, either jealousy or anger, by his apparent disregard for her.
I take Kim's reaction here as purely… How would you say it? I guess she's more than used to it and she knows she shouldn't care about his actions. Well, she does care to an extent. She does get a little bit jealous, especially if it happens in front of her. Thing is, this has been going on for quite a while, definitely, and I think they've both developed these strange behaviors just to cope with being around each other.
But so far, the premise has been set, and there will be back story and more questions answered later.
And no flashbacks, I promise.