The Stubborn Beast Flesh

AUTHOR: The Humbug

DISCLAIMER: “Kim Possible” and all characters within © The Walt Disney Company and its related entities. Kim Possible created by Mark McCorkle & Bob Schooley. All rights reserved. No profit is being collected from the fiction contained within. You can blame the rest of this on me.
SUMMARY: This is a Kim/Shego pairing fan fiction; there is love and romance between Kim & Shego, as well as plenty of action and adventure, and hopefully some humor and horror. Set in my own personal Kigoverse and my ‘Who’s Writing This Crap?’ storyline, this is a tale of what happens when something goes horribly wrong. Kasy Ann and Sheki Go Possible are the sole creations of NoDrogs and I pray that I’ve done them justice. Oh, and I am still using the wrong first name of John for Mr. Dr. P.
TYPE: Kim/Shego, Romance, Slash
RATING: US: R / DE: 16 for combat violence and intimations of a physical relationship and intimate contact between consenting adult females and should also cover some occasionally harsh language. If this will offend you please read something else, and then seek professional help.

Chapter XII / Up From The Ashes

Forty minutes ago…

“Hey.”

“What?”

“I count one patient in this room.”

Puzzled, the younger medtech raised his clipboard and compared what he read with what he had just been told. Sure enough, there was a discrepancy.

“Sign-in sheet says two.”

“Bright boy.” His counterpart shook her head in annoyance. “And how might we account for this inaccuracy?” She watched as the younger man read the sheet again and glanced over at the comatose woman stretched out on the hi-tech medical bed. He then glanced across to the neighboring bed, equally hi-tech but disconcertingly empty.

“Um…”

The woman held her tongue and forced herself not to snap at her subordinate as she bent over the singular patient; that silent form was long and shapely with pale green skin that contrasted with midnight black hair and stark white bandages. Sections of the fiber were stained in interesting patterns but the actual bleeding had stopped long before now and there was little risk of infection. ‘GJ’ had become very familiar with this particular person’s physical makeup over the years and all records indicated that this person was an abnormally fast healer.

“Pretend it was a rhetorical question and go get us some coffee” The woman paused in her work and looked back over her shoulder. “While you’re at it…”

Her tone was too casual and her counterpart noticed.

“Yes?”

“On your way back, tell Agent Hedges that the Stoppable boy is missing, will you?”

She could hear the younger agent already running down the hall before the door had time to swing shut.

88888888

Twenty minutes ago…

A slim form that carried a famous name kept to the shadows and avoided the main thoroughfares; a car turned a nearby corner and Kim shrank down against the base of the closest brick façade. Middleton was a busy place with commuters and public service vehicles, even at this early hour. Not that anyone would have recognized the skulking figure, hunched over and wearing a slick film of grime, soot, pus and charred rags. The animalistic nature of her ravaged brain worked overtime to protect her and higher reasoning was a luxury that she could not afford right now.

Kim was going home… but not the home of her youth and childhood. No, she was slowly making her way closer to the home she had made with her mate and offspring, the anonymous apartment that her wife had rented with little more that a careless whim so as to remain close to the then-pregnant redhead and later where they could raise their children together.

Flashes of memory, sluggish and sporadic, sluiced through her brain… her parent’s house, Jim and Tim hurt, Bonnie on the kitchen floor, Shego… Shego… and then the black, greasy curtain fell upon those scenes and the images vanished from her mind, cutting her off from what she used to be. It was always there, that blackness, bordering her limited consciousness. Kim pushed away from the building and moved on.

She moved because there was still so much ground to cover. If she had been her usual, optimistic self, the verse ‘and miles to go before I sleep’ may have slipped through her mind but Kimberly Ann Possible didn’t sleep these days; she hadn’t slept in about two weeks and the healing succor that sleep offered was denied her. It was just one of the symptoms of her current condition. Gone was the upstanding, red-haired young woman, the mother of darling twin girls, a young woman quick to act and quicker to smile and always with a heart that was three sizes too large for her and a mind that moved just too darn fast for her own good. Gone were the limitless potential and the ‘I can do anything’ attitude. Also gone were the quirks and faults that kept her ego in check and endeared her to the many that loved her. The… thing… that moved through Middleton proper this early morning cared nothing for that.

Physically, the outward changes were equally profound: the once vibrant hair was mostly gone, crisped and burned away in the heart of an inferno that even now still raged outside of town. The tattered remains of her mission clothes were so charred and shredded that only the sticky rivulets of sludge smeared across most of her body served to hold the ruined fabric together. By contrast, her rosy flesh was totally unmarked; the Havok material repaired what it must, replaced what it could, and mimicked life to the extent of its design… but even a simple wooden crutch held more basic humanity than this nightmare. With it, Kim was slowly dying piece by piece. Without it, she would have been dead already. In the meantime the stubborn beast flesh fought to survive because that is what it does.

She secreted ‘pitch’ constantly now and it collected in her ears and dripped from her nose and mingled with what pooled in her mouth. The inky substance was the most blatant symptom of her exposure to bad science. Occasionally she would pause in her trek to vomit up a stomach-full of the stuff; this happened so frequently now that she hardly noticed it anymore. That discharge then fell to pool with whatever else had run down her legs… because she was venting ‘pitch’ from every orifice… again, not that she noticed. The occasional pain or burning in the back of her throat would pass, and the stench of the blended vitriol would fade and she would move on.

And Kim did keep moving, drawn inexorably closer to the goal she had crawled through Hell to reach.

88888888

Fifteen minutes ago…

If one week ago anyone had asked ‘Motor Ed’ Lipsky for his opinion of a girl-on-girl cat fight, his answer could only have been, ‘Dude! Righteous! Seriously!’

Right now he didn’t feel that way at all.

“Edward, I can hold the cloth myself, thank you.”

The words had been muffled and had sounded more like, ‘Edwaw, ahkun olda caw myzell, ankoo’ but he understood them well enough. He relinquished the cold, damp wash cloth to the speaker and backed away. The only real space available for him in the cramped office was the guest seat so he sat down and looked for anything else to occupy his attention, anything at all instead of the bruised face of the uniformed woman on the other side of the desk.

The intercom buzzed and Dr. Betty Director used her free hand to press the switch.

“Director here.” She winced, her mouth and jaw still very sore. Eddie mirrored her expression.

“Dr. Director, I’m sorry to intrude but Dr. Possible is asking to speak with you.” The voice on the other end of the transmission cleared its throat. “He wants to apologize again for…”

“Please tell him that apologies are not necessary.” She worked her jaw and the pain lanced from the crown of her head to her shoulders. Yep, better plan on an X-ray, she thought. “However, what I do deem necessary right now is that the guards stationed at the medical wing are to make certain that Anne Possible is kept under strict observation at all times. She is to have the same freedom of access as before but she is NOT to go anywhere without an escort.” She stopped to rest her jaw a moment before continuing. “Savvy?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Catch me once, shame on you. Catch me twice, shame on me.

“And remind them both that this is for my benefit as much as their own.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“And that I truly am sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Director out.” She waited for the nameless agent’s affirmation of compliance before toggling the switch again and closing the connection. Betty unfolded the cloth and added a few more ice cubes from the cup on her desk to its folds. That action served to remind her who had brought her the ice.

“Thank you again for this.” She lifted the cloth and he shrugged.

“Hey, s’nothing. Seriously.”

“It certainly is something. I haven’t been struck like that in years.”

“Seriously? She walloped you good.”

“For a physician, Anne Possible packs quite a punch, yes. Still, I deserved it.”

“Huh? No way! You didn’t do nothing wrong! Seriou…” He stopped, the woman gingerly shaking her head at him despite the pain.

“For two days… two whole days… I neglected to tell a woman that her two sons were hospitalized. A woman who is going through her own personal Hell, I need not add. Two boys that were severely beaten by their own sister…” the words trailed off and she sighed. “Two days, Edward, and I said nothing. If it hadn’t slipped out by accident, I may not have told her even yet.” It hurt too much to scowl so she sighed again. “I fear that I am having a rather bad time of this.” The handsome woman with only one eye and a swollen jaw leaned back in her chair and briefly fantasized about becoming a ditch digger. She closed her good eye and rested the cold cloth to her face.

“I…”

Betty peeled back her un-patched eyelid looked at the large man sitting across from her.

“Edward?”

“I think… that you’ve been handling things pretty well.” Eddie spoke with as much diction as he could muster; he wasn’t used to being in such environs as would befit proper grammar, or the right sort of company. This was different, however. This was special.

She was special.

Judas Priest, what am I thinking, he wondered. She’s Johnny Law and I’m a grease monkey felon!

He noticed that she wasn’t staring at him as if he were a felon, though. She was staring at him as if had grown a second head or a third arm. Betty Director held very still and blinked her eye a few times as if taking the measure of Edward Lipsky before passing judgment.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He didn’t even think twice about her choice of words. “I got a gang, you know… guys that I hang with and, uh… pull jobs with but nothing like you got. Seriously. We get to arguing or there’s trouble and we yell and I might throw a wrench at ‘em or something, seriously, but then it’s all good and we crack open a few brews and get wasted.”

“Forgive me, Edward, but I don’t quite follow.” The administrator was still stunned at the compliment he’d given her and knew that she was missing the point.

“What I mean is that, seriously, you’ve been handed one of most righteously noxious Mongolian clusters I’ve ever seen and you’re still frosty.”

If she had been merely stunned a moment ago, she was totally floored now.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Seriously.”

“I…  Edward, I… I mean, that is to say…”

“S’ok. Seriously. You don’t have to say nothing.” Eddie was hardly ever embarrassed so he wasn’t quite certain what he was feeling right then. He did know that he suddenly felt self-conscious in his faded T-shirt and work boots. No, the mullet wasn’t going anywhere, but maybe a shave would have been in order that morning. Seriously. His respect for the woman sitting across from him had evolved in a way that he could never have imagined given their different stations in life. Shit, he thought, she probably sees me as being right down there with some caveman.

Betty Director didn’t see him that way, not at all. At that moment she saw a man, a kind man sitting with her and speaking to her in a way that was neither commanding nor subordinate. That alone was highly irregular given their chosen vocations. For all of their worldly differences, the man across from her was nothing less than her equal. If only things weren’t as far removed as they were. If only the two of them…

Judas Priest, what am I thinking, she wondered. He is a wanted criminal and I’m the executive administrator of the world’s pre-eminent, covert law-enforcement agency… a cop! She noticed that he wasn’t staring at her as if she were a cop, though. He was staring at her as if she were a woman. That hadn’t happened in, well, years.

She felt suddenly ashamed at her attitude toward this man. They had been working in close proximity for days and had established a stable peace quickly, a peace that had taken firm root as an unsteady friendship but her overall opinion of him had barely risen above an idle diversion. She was wrong to have felt this way, so very wrong that she momentarily forgot about the plight of the Possible family and gave in to an irresistible desire to bridge the formidable gap that lay between she and the criminal known as ‘Motor Ed’.

Hesitant and supremely unsure of herself, the woman lifted her hand from the desk and reached for his.

“Edward, I…”

The intercom buzzed.

Suppressing the urge to draw her weapon and empty the clip into the intercom, Dr. Director gave the device a half-glare and diverted her raised hand to flip the switch that would answer the incoming call. Motor Ed just leaned away from the desk and did his best to disappear into his chair as the woman across from him responded.

“Director here.”

“Dr. Director… this is Hedges down in the medical unit.”

“Agent Hedges, for the last time, please advise the Possibles that…”

“Ma’am, it’s nothing to do with Mrs. Possible’s attack on you earlier.” The man on the other end of the line was known for being all business; there was no hint of irony or humor in his voice.

“Then what…?”

“Ma’am, you may want to switch to a private connection.”

“Why would that be necessary?”

“It’s a matter of internal security, Ma’am.”

Betty Director exchanged a glance with Eddie and he started to rise from his chair.

“I’ll hit the road, seriously, if that’s…”

“No, Edward. Please stay.” She motioned towards the chair. “The private line shall suffice.” He sank back down into the chair as she lifted the receiver. Several seconds passed in silence and the woman absorbed what she was hearing. Not a single word was uttered until she lowered the receiver and lifted the damp compress back up to her face.

“Interesting.”

“Huh? What’s wrong?”

“It would seem that for the second time in a week, Global Justice has had a patient leave our secure medical facility without having completed the requisite discharge paperwork.” The irony was wasted on them both. “Ronald Stoppable has apparently vanished”.

“Kid broke out, huh?”

“That, Edward, remains to be seen.” She stood and draped the damp cloth over her OUT bin. “If you do not mind, I would appreciate the support of your strong arms, Edward, either for moral support or for protection.” She stepped around her desk and pressed the release code to unlock and open the door. Ed also stood and they exited the room together.

“Sure. What for?”

“Because I believe that my face requires medical attention and of the two most qualified people in our medical section right now, one is a rogue geneticist and the other is the one who pummeled me in the first place.”

88888888

Five minutes ago…

A typical Middleton morning was in full swing by the time the taxicab sidled up to the curb and a young man got out. He wasn’t too steady on his feet and leaned heavily against the door while he fumbled in his wallet for cash to pay the fare. The driver was used to picking up young men and taking them home in the early hours of the day, usually from some club or bar after they’d been carousing all night. The odd thing was that this kid didn’t seem drunk or even hung over; this boy looked and moved like he’d been worked-over by a prizefighter.

“You gonna be ok, buddy?”

“Huh?” The simple act of bending down to better address the driver made Ron’s back protest. “Oh. Yeah, I’m ok.”

“You say so.” It wasn’t the driver’s business. The fare was paid and the yellow vehicle drove away to join the rest of Middleton’s morning traffic. Ron looked around at the familiar street corner as if he were in uncharted territory… though it was exactly where he had asked to be dropped. Kim’s apartment was three blocks east of here. It was his ultimate destination. What Ron would do once he got there was another story. He had hoped to answer that question at some point during the three intervening blocks.

He kicked out his left foot… the one that throbbed the least… and started walking. His whole body hurt like it never had before and he’d had enough adventures in his young life to feel some pain! He and Rufus and… and Kim had done some pretty amazing stuff together. But now he was alone. He knew that he wasn’t doing himself any good by having left the hospital like he had; he wondered if the attending doctors and nurses knew that he’d even regained consciousness. He didn’t remember being taken into custody… geez, he didn’t remember much of anything since Kim had thrown something at Shego and he had leapt to keep it from hitting her.

Weird… I got hurt defending Shego from Kim. How does a thing like happen? And did all that happen just last night? It felt like a more than a year.

Truth be told, he couldn’t stand to be in that hospital room for a minute longer. Even before he had known that he was awake he had been plagued with dreams and visions of Sensei and even Yori… two people that Ron hadn’t thought much about for a year or so. Yori was a great gal and really cool even when she was busting his hump for the good of his ‘honor’. Otherwise, they hadn’t seen each other in a long time. It had been an even longer time since Ron had trained with Sensei because the old man didn’t travel much these days. The ultimate reason for the communication breakdown had been when Ron admitted to himself that he simply wasn’t prepared for the rigorous discipline of the Yamanouchi training academy. But it was ok… he had Rufus and Kim and the rest of his friends and family. He could live without being ‘The Chosen One’.

But then came that eerily familiar energy while he was unconscious… the familiar ebb and flow of that enigmatic force which he had come to know as ‘mystical monkey power’. It was like a light in a darkened room while he slept, then like a voice calling his name as he slowly regained consciousness back at the hospital. The ‘power’ never came when he called and he didn’t quite trust it but it was often there for him at the worst of times.

… and this was a pretty BAD time. No doubt about it!

He did know that it felt nothing like the pain of failure. He had failed Kim when he realized that he wasn’t able to fight her in the fuel depot. It wasn’t just a matter of fighting her; he had proved useless in doing what needed to be done for Kim’s own good. She was his best friend ever and her daughters were like his own flesh and blood. If Kim wasn’t able to do for herself, whom else should she be able to count on?

Obviously not Ron Stoppable. But why had the ‘mystical monkey power’ helped him to wake up? Why would it compel him to escape from the medical care of ‘GJ’? Why would it draw him inexorably here?

Why am I talking to myself? What does ‘inexorably’ mean?

I wish that Rufus were here.

Ron scuffed his mission sneakers and glanced around for a street sign to get his bearings… but no sooner did the thought of Kim and Shego’s apartment re-enter his mind than he immediately felt the phantom tug pulling him… inexorably… towards his destination.

88888888

One minute ago….

“Nine-one-one, what is the nature of your emergency?”

“…”

“Nine-one-one, what is the nature of your emergency?”

“…”

“Please repeat. I can’t hear you.”

“… gobal juztiz…”

“Sir?” The woman pressed the earpiece tight to her head. She heard something that time but it was extremely faint. “Ma’am? Are you injured?”

“… gobal juztiz…!” Stronger but just as difficult to understand, the words trickled through her headset. Nonetheless, the call center operator jotted down her best guess as to what she had heard on an open text screen of her computer resumed her litany of emergency service instructions.

“What is the nature of your emergency?”

“…itz hitda fan...!!”

“Where are you calling from?” Fingers poised, she continued to transcribe the weird message.

“… traysa cal…”

“What? I don’t understand…”

“… traysa cal…!”

“Sir… Ma’am…?” Even now, the operator couldn’t determine the gender of the caller. “If you need assistance but are not able to fully communicate the nature of your emergency, I can trace the call and dispatch a response team to your location.”

“…DOY…!” The voice sounded almost relieved and before the operator could ask any more questions there was a series of bumps and a thud on the other end of the line.

“Sir?” Nothing, but the line was still open. Waiting the few remaining seconds to complete her trace, the operator performed her function exactly as she was instructed to and forwarded the meager transcription to her immediate supervisor and also to the police precinct closest to the caller’s apparent location. She had no idea that her call centers messages were being electronically monitored and filtered by a secret but benevolent agency that was desperate to learn the whereabouts of certain people.

88888888

Right now…

Bonnie Rockwaller awoke with a bad smell in her nostrils. She then became aware of pain in her neck; it didn’t take her long to realize that she had apparently fallen asleep sitting upright, just as she had in the car parked down at the curb outside. Here eyes were matted shut and this gave her a few seconds to acclimate to the bright lights of the kitchen while she wiped the gunk away. Her vision was still watery and she blinked several times to let it clear, keeping her head down to both avoid being blinded and also because her neck really did hurt. She had no way of knowing how long she had been out, at least not until she could manage to look up at the clock on the wall behind her.

None of this explained the bad smell.

Gingerly rolling her shoulders to loosen the muscles and tendons like she used to do to warm up before a game, Bonnie slowly lifted her head until she could see the first foot or so of the table closest to her. The babies were still in their carriers, resting on top of the table. Kasy was awake and gurgling happily at her while Sheki snoozed on. They looked as fine and healthy as they had been when she first got to the apartment.

Did either of them need changing? Was that the source of the stench? No one was crying, so maybe not. Not quite able to focus her vision yet, she forced her head up a little higher and noted that Rufus wasn’t where she’d left him; the napkin was there but the naked mole rat was gone. Bonnie lifted her head a little more.

There was a nightmare sitting across the table from Bonnie, eating her sandwich and holding the glass of apple juice.

“Hi, Bon-Bon.”

Sleep evaporated and the young woman sat bolt upright in her chair, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights. The redhead kept chewing and no signs of life reached her eyes.

“When’d you get here?”

“…ng… um…”

“Thanks for the sandwich.” Kim hoisted the small meal. “I’m starving.”

My God, Bonnie thought, she looks like she’s been burned… or maybe burned, crushed by a train and then extinguished with an atomic bomb. Her old classmate might be tattered, but Bonnie couldn’t see any actual injuries; the skin was grimy but flawless beneath an irregular splatter of greasy black… something.

Bonnie snapped to attention when she realized that the spectre was still talking.

“W-what?”

“I guess you are tired. I’d asked how long you’d been sleeping.”

“Mmm… just a few minutes.” She glanced up at the clock. “Not long at all, really.”

The other woman nodded, pale scalp catching the light through crisped hair.

“Good idea. I’d love to catch some Z’s.” Kim raised a filthy hand and popped the last bit of sandwich into her mouth. “I’m just too wired or something. Can’t seem to close my eyes.”

Bonnie swallowed numbly, her shock slipping into terror. This was the very same woman who had attached her in the Possible home two days ago… and now Kim was talking to her like they were guests at a garden party! It was like being inches away from a caged tiger at the zoo, except that there was no cage and this was no tiger. It was something far deadlier and unpredictable and there were no bars to separate them. What did lie between them were two sleeping infants; little Kasy and Sheki slept in their carriers near the center of the kitchen table. Bonnie briefly wondered where Rufus had gone but her thoughts quickly returned to the most important sitch… she had to get the children out of there.

“Were they good for you?”

Bonnie almost leapt out of her tanned skin.

“W-w-what?”

“The girls. Did they behave themselves?”

“Y-yes.” She watched as Kim grinned proudly, black spittle staining her teeth and the sight made Bonnie feel weak.

“They’re always so… so good.” She coughed, staining the plate with black flecks. “S’funny, but… I don’t remember asking you to baby sit for us.”

“Sh-…” What would happen if she mentioned Shego’s name? Where was Shego, anyway? Bonnie had been out of touch with everyone and everything since she took the girls from Ron and drove away from the fuel depot. For all Stoppable had known, Kim might have been chasing her.

She took the chance.

“Shego called me.”

“Oh. Spu-sss-spank’n!” Kim was all smiles again. “Ghu-glll…” The ruined young woman twitched and made a second attempt. “Glad… that you could help us!” She lurched to her feet and staggered over to the sink while Bonnie stared appalled at how uncoordinated the motions were. As cheerleaders both girls had honed their agility and dexterity to peak performance, hence their chronic rivalry. A loud clatter startled Bonnie and she watched shards of Kim’s plate bounce out over the rim of the sink from where it had been carelessly dropped.

The dying young woman seemed mesmerized by the result and hovered at the counter with her back turned to the rest of the world. The healthy young woman took advantage of this to slide her chair around the edge of the table, moving closer to the dozing children.

Kim’s head jerked up and she glanced back over her shoulder.

“Wuh… what’s the sitch?”

“N-n-nothing!” Bonnie froze and counted the heartbeats as she settled back in her chair. She wasn’t close enough yet to the girls… or far enough away from Kim… for a mad ‘grab-and-dash’ to have worked. Kim just nodded at her thoughtfully.

“Don’t go anywhere. I want to t-talk to you about… about…” Kim coughed, coughed again, turning back towards the sink as she did so. She grabbed the edge of the kitchen counter with both hands and folded over the sink as her whole body clenched. With a violently wet hacking sound and a wave of sour stink, the petite redhead spewed a thick foulness from her lips and into the sink. It was as black as tar and glistened where it splattered onto clean porcelain.

Oh, my God, thought Bonnie Rockwaller, thrusting aside her revulsion and sliding her chair a few more inches around the table. She actually felt calmer for the action, more self-assured. Ok, so I’m calmer. Why am I calmer?

“b…”

This wasn’t the ‘psycho-Kim’ for one thing. That much was obvious. This wasn’t the crazed woman from two days ago that beat her and taunted her about her dead son. Bonnie slid her chair another few inches.

“buh…”

This was another facet of Kim’s shattered mind, she supposed. This Kim was addled and vague but innocent and apparently didn’t remember anything of that event. It was as if nothing had transpired since Bonnie had returned to Middleton to reconnect with her old classmate and former rival.

Maybe I can take advantage of that, she wondered. And where in the Hell is Ron’s darned rat? Bonnie moved her chair some more…

“bon…”

She stopped within reach of one of the child carriers. It might have been Sheki’s but there was no way to tell with their little heads covered. Bonnie new that seconds would count if she were to get the babies to safety; she flexed the taut muscles of her calves and took several slow, deep breaths in preparation for the action she was about to take. She slowly leaned forward and was about to stand…

“Bon-Bon.”

… when she heard a burbling croak as Kim spat and cleared her airway, turning around with an odd expression on her haggard face.

“Bonnie.”

Oh, shit!

“Kim?”

“Bonnie.” Not repeating the name, tasting it. The slim figure stood solidly on her feet and stared back intently at her former classmate.

“Kim, what…?

“Bon-Bon.” Not tasting anymore, caressing the name. Something had changed. Kim took a step away from the sink, her motions balanced and fluid. Gone was the lurching stagger and something else seemed to be looking out from behind those green eyes.

“You say Shego called you?”

“Yes.”

“So where…” The filthy bare scalp with its bristly remnants of red glanced left and right, searching. “Where is she now?”

“I… I don’t know. Out.” Bonnie Rockwaller was feeling decidedly less calm than moments ago. “She didn’t say.”

“Maybe that’s just as well,” the redhead purred. “She gets so moody when I have old friends over.”

The brunette was speechless. This all meant something, this new tone and attitude being exuded from her former classmate. It was familiar… but it was also wrong.

“We should do something today. Breakfast?”

Bonnie only half-heard her classmate while making yet another assessment of how fast she would need to be to grab the infant carriers and make it to the door.

“Or maybe lunch? That sounds better.” Kim dragged a filthy sleeve across her equally filthy face. “Or both! I seem to be so hungry, lately!”

The table was between them. Bonnie knew that she was more than strong enough to heft the girls, make tracks for the door and hit the hall before Kim could make it to the opposite side of the kitchen table. Plenty of time… but what was this new vibe she was getting from Kim?

A stink wafted across her nostrils. Kim was at her side, just over her shoulder, and Bonnie hadn’t even seen the girl move. Hot breath reeked of sweet decay but the voice was soft like linen when she spoke.

“Turn around, Bonnie.”

Damn! Not enough time to run.

“D-don’t you think that…?”

“Bonnie… turn around.”

“Kim, don’t you think I’d… we’d better put the girls to bed… or something?”

“Leave them where they are.” The ragged body was hot, really hot, burning like it was on fire and Kim’s eyes shone like glass. “Leave them where they are and turn around.”

“I really should… take them…”

“I. Said. Turn. Around!” Slim hands with black soot caked under what few nails remained gripped the back of the chair and spun it about like a top. Bonnie watched the world twirl as her chair pivoted on one leg and came to rest with her facing the opposite direction. The battered form of her classmate blocked her vision as Kim straddled the tanned thighs and settled her weight down onto Bonnie Rockwaller’s lap. She was trapped and it was only when the delicate fingers began feeling their way up her sleeve that everything clicked into place.

“That’s better.”

Oh, no… the looks, the touching… oh, God…

“I was serious when I said that we should do something today.”

OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGod!

“Two old friends like us should take the time to get… reacquainted.”

“N-no, Kim. Wait. Let’s… let’s talk!”

The emeralds were right in her face and Kim’s gaze was hypnotic.

“Talking is nice.” She leaned forward and pressed her fair cheek against Bonnie’s. The tan young woman felt the appalling mixture of grit and slickness rolling between their skin and she shivered despite the heat coming from her old rival. “Shego likes to talk… afterward. You and I can talk afterwards, too.”

A slender hand cupped her full breast and it was all that Bonnie could do not to scream aloud. This isn’t happening, she did scream inside her own head. Kim wants me! Another girl… wants me! Lips grazed her ear and the burbling voice was terrible to hear.

“You always were so beautiful, Bon-Bon. Back at school… when we were cheerleaders.”

Memories of those days flashed in the woman’s mind; those happy days were being sullied by Kim’s words, pleasant dreams turned into nightmares. Her face burned but she would not let herself show weakness by crying.

“This body, so ripe, so close.” The slender form writhed on her lap. “I wanted you so bad.” There was friction between tanned knees as a slim but strong leg clothed in the ruins of a pair of cargo pants forced its way down and parted Bonnie’s legs. “Did you want me?”

The brunette’s hands shook as she gripped the metal form of her chair. She screwed her eyes shut and prayed that the contact would end. Kim, oblivious to this, ran her hand along the inside of Bonnie’s thigh.

“I’d like to think that you did. Did you? You’ll finally get your chance.” The fingertips played with smooth skin as they quested upward. There was a horrible strength there… but also tenderness and that is what made the experience all the more horrible for Bonnie Rockwaller.

“We’ll both get our chance.”

That another woman was touching her intimately was something that Bonnie could handle under normal circumstances; she’d never been skittish of hugging her girlfriends or giving a female ‘BFF’ a peck on the cheek. This was different by a far cry. This contact was undesired and unwelcome and she didn’t feel that she had the power to end it.

But she should have been strong enough. She burned inside with the shame of her powerlessness.

Kim’s current health crisis aside, this was KIM who was pawing at her. Kim Possible, the goody-goody who always seemed to make friends naturally back in school when Bonnie Rockwaller had to cajole and threaten her peers to keep them in line. Kim, the ‘girl who could do anything’ when Bonnie never felt as if anything she did was ever good enough for her family or teachers. The young mother of beautiful twin girls who apparently was as perfect a parent as Bonnie had been a failure with a tiny headstone declaring ‘ROCKWALLER’ back in Upperton to prove that point.

The darkness closed in on Bonnie Rockwaller and she took some comfort there. Maybe this is what I deserve, she thought. There’s nothing else to run from. Nothing to prove to anyone and nothing left to live for.

Nothing left but her innate instincts to survive. Freed from her personal demon, the fighter within Bonnie awoke… and responded to the sitch.

Kim Possible’s body was still holding her down against the chair but the brunette knew her old rival’s weight and mass very well; she had lifted and held the woman many times on the football field when they cheered together. Maybe she didn’t workout like the redhead did or have adventures but she was fit and strong and the adrenalin pumping through her veins was surely a match for the greasy black shit that Kim continued to vent every few minutes.

Her terror became frustration and this became anger and the anger fueled her rage as Bonnie’s heart beat so fiercely inside her chest that it made the battered redhead lean back a few inches to see what had caused the sudden change in her captive’s demeanor.

“Oh, you are so ready for me! I can hear it! I can smell…” her words were cut off as the tanned and toned legs drew up fast and Bonnie planted her feet against Kim’s chest. At only 110 pounds, the ill hero could not deny the laws of physics as those powerful muscles uncoiled like steel springs.

“Kim… GET OFF OF ME!!!”

Bonnie thrust outwards and Kim went flying.

To Be Continued…

Author’s Note: Please refer to the chapter titled ‘Biohazard’ for a complete history of the Havok material and an explanation of ‘pitch’. The brief excerpt from ‘Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening’ by Robert Frost was used without permission.
The opening segments of this chapter were the events that occurred ‘off camera’ just prior to the very end of Chapter 11; that ending has been reproduced here. These were necessary to pull the storyline back together after such a long period of time.
Please tell me if the forced KiBo was too gratuitous. I want to know what you think.
You also see here the inception of a pairing that has been shown in its maturity in stories that happen years later: the relationship between Dr. Betty Director and Ed Lipsky. You’ll see more of them and the rest of that before the end.
If there is anyone out there that still cares about the rest of this tale, please accept my sincere apologies. I never intended to be away from this story for so damn long. You know that I’ve been contributing new stuff during the interim but sixteen months is too long. This is the year that I slay this dragon. Until next time, be well!