I do not own any Disney characters named herein, and am only borrowing them to tell a nonprofit tale meant for entertainment purposes only.
Kim Possible: Dance Fever
Kim could not believe her current mission.
Unbelievable was not an entirely inaccurate description of the sitch. It, in fact, defied all logic.
Because that mission had her sitting in a private box, not far from a well-lit stage, where a new diva was spinning madly after leaping one way, then another, using moves that would have made her old cheer coach drop her jaw.
Said mission was made unbelievable because it focused on said diva, who was the Upperton Dance Troupe's newest star. One, unbelievably, Bonnie Rockwaller.
The ballerina slowed her spin, did a slower pirouette, and moved forward, arms spread wide as she performed a surprisingly touching death scene just before the enchanted princess in the tale folded her wings, and died upon the banks of the 'lake.' Even as the curtain went down, extras covering the brunette in pearl white silk as it fell, Kim's hands snapped the opera glasses she was wearing to a setting no other theater-goer had in their possession.
She scanned the curtain, picking out Bonnie's heat signature with the IFR glasses with ease. She also picked up the other bodies around her. Stage hands. Set directors. Other ballerinas. All moving in frenetic fashion as they prepared for the climax of the night's performance.
Still, nothing suspicious so far.
She fought a yawn, and wished whoever was behind the theater's troubles of late would just make a move. She was so ready to be done with this one. Not just because it was Bonnie at the heart of the trouble, either. Frankly, she found the whole thing rather dull.
She was used to more obvious villains kicking in doors, or even windows or walls, and launching into a frontal assault from the get-go. Whoever was attacking the troupe was being a real ninja, because so far, she and Wade had yet to find so much as a single clue.
The danger was all too real, though. Three hands, and four dancers all frightened off already. One dancer in the hospital in critical condition.
Whoever was out there was playing for keeps. They were just not playing by the rules.
No ransom. No obvious demands. Just an endless stirng of 'accidents,' and assaults. That growing notoriety, as much as the talent of the performers, was all that was keeping some people coming to the ballet that some were now calling 'haunted.'
Kim Possible, however, did not believe in ghosts, or demons. She had seen far too much mad science, and madder scientists, to believe in anything so…..unnatural. Besides, what would spooks or ghouls care about a ballet that had been going quite well until recently?
Just about the time that Bonnie made her debut.
That in itself was suspicious.
She grumbled as the music rose from the orchestra pit, and the curtains began to rise again. She stifled a groan, having seen this thing far too many times of late, but felt more than grateful it was the final act. She was so ready for this evening to end.
Hopefully, whoever was out there would make their next move, and she could crush them, and move on.
Whoever it was, and whatever their reasons, she was so going to hurt them for making her endure this ballet marathon. She nodded to herself as she envisioned just how she was going to hurt them.
She applauded at the end at the sheer relief of the end of another evening as much as any real appreciation for the performance.
She would be lying if she wasn't impressed by the dancers. Even Bonnie. But watching the endless rehearsals, and then the performances, all while keeping an eye out for potential trouble? It was really starting to wear on her.
She was not made for covert stakeouts.
Still, Bonnie's agent had been genuinely afraid for the brunette's life, and Kim was never one to turn down anyone that needed help.
Not even the former teen queen of mean herself.
She watched as the stage was crowded with the troupe who came out for their encores, and then moved to drop down a few feet to land near a set of stage steps, and jumped up them to ease behind the curtains as the crowd continued to applause.
She paused just long enough to smile apologetically at the older man who started at her sudden appearance from above, and then headed backstage to keep a closer eye on things. She was watching the troupe now breaking up as the final curtain fell, and they all came backstage to prepare for going home, or whatever else they did.
Even as she watching the group cheer one another after their latest performance, Kim frowned as she cocked her head, hearing a strange chirping.
Like a muted car alarm.
She glanced toward one of the equipment banks that helped the stagehands run the lights, curtains, and other gear and props used in the performance, and noted a small box blinking rapidly as she noted the numbers counting down.
She felt an instinctive grasp of trap after years of facing countless sitches, and she quickly picked out the single, nylon line that ran out of the box, up a main line, and toward one of the row of huge, stage lights overhead.
Out on stage, Bonnie was giving her final bow to yet another encore as the fans literally threw roses at her feet.
She stood directly below that heavy rig supporting three, massive lights that were trained on her.
Even as she took in the setup, her feet were already moving.
Without wasting a word of warning, she slammed into the still sleek, voluptuous brunette, and drove her back, and into a forced somersault that carried them halfway across the stage even as the chirping stopped, and the stage lights unceremoniously crashed down right where she had been standing.
People around them screamed in alarm and surprise as Kim rolled to her feet, looking around, seeking too eager gazes, or listening for running feet.
At least, nothing obvious.
Just a few hundred pound light fixtures that almost crushed the star of the show.
Bonnie sat up, and glared at her, but Kim didn't miss the undercurrent of fear that haunted her eyes.
"I thought you were going to stop this nonsense," she predictably complained even as two stagehands rushed to help her stand up as Kim continued to scan the area.
"Wade, you there," she called up her longtime friend, and tech support.
"Always," the young genius answered almost at once. "How was the show?"
"Just as boring as ever. But the finale ended with a real crash," she told him cryptically. "I need you to scan the theater, check any area cameras, and then check out a piece of equipment that I think just triggered the latest accident. Someone just tried to ensure Bonnie took her last bow."
"I'm already on it. What equipment are you talking about?"
She glanced around, saw Bonnie was with her director, and other companions just then, and quickly ducked back to let Wade scan the apparent timer.
"I've got it. It definitely isn't part of the usual setup, I can tell you that much. You might want the police to check it over, too, but I'll see if my scans turn up anything when I analyze them."
"Thanks, Wade," she said. "I'd better get back to Bonnie. Someone is obviously playing for keeps here. I think I'd better take her home with me tonight. Just in case."
"Bonnie," Wade quipped dryly, knowing well enough how Kim thought of her.
"I know. But I don't think I'd better let her out of my sight now. That was too close."
"All right. I'll beep you the minute I find anything," he assured her.
"Please, and thank you," she smiled before shutting down her Kimmunicator watch.
The audience was already breaking up, and leaving after the scare wore off, but someone had already called the police, and Kim made sure to let them know not to touch the apparent time before the police could inspect it.
Then she dropped the bombshell.
"And you'd better come home with me tonight," Kim told the brunette.
Bonnie stopped mid-sentence with her harried agent who was still arguing with her director, and gaped at her.
"Me? Stay with you?"
"Right now, it's the safest place for you to be," she told her former rival in cheerleading.
"Why not stay at my place," she huffed. "I doubt you even have a place fit for real people."
"I have an apartment," Kim huffed. "It's a nice one."
Bonnie's expression was more than skeptical.
"Besides, whoever is after you is more likely to find you at your house. They won't look at my apartment. They certainly won't be able to get inside."
Bonnie, who knew all about the Possibles, Wade, and Kim's less than normal life, just sighed.
"Fine. Just don't expect me to eat anything you cook."
Kim chose not to comment at the acerbic comment, and just said, "Just let me know when you're ready to go."
"Probably not until after the police finish their usual round of inane, and futile queries," the very upset director huffed.
"Well, I'm going to change. I'm certainly not going to stand around here all night in a sweaty leotard," Bonnie huffed, stalking off as if she royalty.
Some things, Kim realized, had not changed.
"Please tell me you're kidding?"
"It's either this, or the couch," she told Bonnie who stared at the single full bed that suddenly looked far too small after what Kim had just said about the one-room efficiency apartment she called home between missions. "And I can tell you…. The couch sucks."
"You've slept on your couch?"
"Fell asleep watching something once. I had kinks in my back for days after that."
Bonnie frowned. "Fine. You just keep your hands on your side. I may be in show business, but…."
"Please! Don't flatter yourself," Kim snorted, and headed for a dresser, and jerked out an oversized tee shirt with a wide-eyed kitten on it begging attention. "Here. That should fit. I'm going to shower. If you want anything…."
"I'm fine. I just want to sleep," the brunette yawned earnestly as she eyed the bed.
Kim didn't argue. She headed for the bathroom herself to freshen up first, and took her robe with her. After a quick shower, she returned to find Bonnie already stretched out in bed, wearing the tee she had been offered.
"At least you didn't try to sing in the shower," Bonnie muttered as one eye opened when Kim came over to sit on the bed, brushing out her hair as she sat there. Kim had wondered if she was asleep. Apparently not.
"I thought you liked the arts," Kim smirked over her shoulder. "And I don't sing that bad."
"Says you. I still remember those high notes you used to miss."
"I got better," Kim huffed.
Bonnie said nothing to that as her open eye lowered, and she made a point of crossing her arms over her ample chest as she turned away from her, pulling part of the spread with her.
"Whatever," the brunette grumbled.
"So, I've been meaning to ask… Whatever happened to Junior?"
Bonnie sighed, and rolled onto her back to glare at the ceiling. She just had to admit she was still awake when the redhead had come back.
"Sorry. Just curious. You don't have to….."
"It's all right. It's not like it's a secret. Most of the world already knows, but I guess you're still too busy running around 'helping' people to actually pay attention to the real world."
"I just don't read scandal sheets," she grumbled.
"They're not all…. Okay. Most are. Anyway, like I said, it's not like it's a big secret. I was halfway through theater school when I came home early to find him with three bimbos in our bed. Three!" Bonnie squeaked, the bitterness still in her tone despite the fact she had apparently broken up more than two years ago. "He even had the audacity to ask me to join them."
"Ewwww," Kim grimaced.
"Double ewww," Bonnie agreed. "When I told him to choose, he actually left with them. He told me he had far too much charisma to deny others the pleasure of basking in his glory."
"That….sounds like Junior."
"Well, I got over him when I realized just how shallow and vain he was," Bonnie stated ironically. Or so it seemed to Kim as the two women lay in the darkness after she switched off the lamp, and stretched out on her side of the bed, consciously trying not to touch. "But it still hurt at the time," the brunette sighed.
"Yeah. I….kind of felt the same way about Ron even though we're still friends, and the break was….mutual."
"I heard he ran off with another woman," Bonnie snipped.
Kim sighed. It was far more complicated than that, she knew. Only how did you explain secret ninja academies, mystical monkey powers, and ancient prophecies that bound the chosen one to a destiny even Kim Possible could not share. In the end, Ron Stoppable was the monkey master, and had obligations even she couldn't match, or hinder. She was sad, and at the time, yeah, it hurt like one of Shego's plasma burns. Still, she was the girl who could do anything.
Even give up the man she loved so he could fulfill a greater destiny.
"It was….complicated. But we parted amicably. It wasn't the way the papers said."
"You never let anyone hear your side?"
"Well, I was in Africa on some sitch, and Ron had….other things going, so neither of us even realized what was being said until I got back. By then, the news was dated, and….honestly, it was no big. Those that mattered knew the truth. Those that just wanted more gossip just weren't that important to either of us."
Bonnie sighed again.
"There. See? That 'no big' attitude of yours really grates me at times, K. I have studied, and trained, and worked my perfectly toned backside off just to get noticed, and you've got worldwide fame without trying. Only you don't even care."
"It doesn't matter to me, Bonnie," she told her. "It never did. That's not my deal."
"For me, it's all about helping. Anyone. Anywhere. Even you," she felt compelled to add.
"Be honest. If my agent hadn't called you without my knowing, would you have come?"
"To be honest, I was half afraid it was a publicity stunt," she admitted.
"Believe me," Bonnie said quietly, her voice suddenly quavering. "I wish that were all it was. Tonight? That was just one more close call, just like Debra told you. We almost had to cancel last week before you showed up because one of the understudies was attacked, and put in the hospital."
"I heard about that one. Only, if they're after you, for whatever the reason, why attack her?"
"She was wearing my jacket I had lent her when I asked if she would run down the corner and get us all coffee and pastries when a rehearsal was running long. We didn't even realize why she was late getting back till the doctors found my wallet in the coat, and called me."
"I heard she's going to be fine."
"A broken leg, and a dislocated knee is not fine for a ballerina, K," she said quietly. "Jaime may likely never dance again. That's….. That's like telling a bird it can't fly anymore."
"Oh. I just meant…. Well, they said she would heal."
"I'm really tired," she said bitterly, and rolled over again. "And I need to sleep."
"Go ahead. No one is getting past my security, or me. We'll find whoever it is, Bonnie," she told her quietly, settling herself again as she felt the genuine fear radiate from her former peer. "And we'll stop him."
"I hope you do," she murmured, and said no more as they both dropped off to sleep.
"I will. It's what I do," she told her earnestly as she lay there, hoping she was right.
She had to admit that even she had crashed and burned a few times. Especially not long after Ron had left, and it took her some time to get back into her own rhythm. But someone was out there hurting people, and that was something Kim Possible could not ignore.
Whoever it was, whatever had drawn them out, she was going to find them.
Then she going to stop them.
If only so she could escape endless repeats of ballet nights!
To Be Continued…