Dear Potential Reader:

First, let me say that I do not own any of the characters appearing in this little tale. This story was not written to generate profit, merely for the enjoyment of writing and, hopefully, the enjoyment in reading.

I had originally intended this tale to be entered into 2017's Halloween contest, but reality imposed upon my writing time. Still, I hope that you enjoy the offering.

All things considered, the meeting did not have to take place at night and during a storm, but such a setting, in his ancestral castle, seemed to set the tone. Lord Montgomery Fiske allowed himself a small smile at the thought, looking at the two guests seated at his great table while waiting for the third.

"So, when are ye gonna tell us the great plan o' yers?" Duff Killigan grumbled from his seat.

The big Scotsman had never been known for his patience and the fact that he had been waiting the longest, thanks to having the shortest trip, was wearing that little bit of civility dangerously thin. Still, Fiske had always been a little cautious around the burly man. Not only was the man capable of incredible violence with no warning, he could absorb an incredible amount of punishment with no ill effects.

"I will inform all of my guests, concurrently," Fiske informed the man, in a tone that allowed no argument. "Should I speak to the two of you without the last member, he could take offense."

"You're making dark plans and you're worried about offending people?" Professor Dementor offered him an expression of mocking disbelief. "Why am I having trouble believing in this?"

"Because you are Germanic, and therefore incapable of understanding proper, civilized manners," Fiske shot back.

From the offended look on the small physicist's face, and the smirk on Killigan's, Fiske knew that he had both put the obnoxious guest in his place and driven a bit of a wedge between the German and the Scotsman. It wouldn't do for the two of them to join forces. Fiske wanted his guests to work with him..on an individual basis. Should any two of the three decide to join forces, Fiske's own ambitions could potentially be threatened. These were not trustworthy people, after all.

Further contemplation was interrupted when one of his monkey ninjas chittered respectfully into his ear.

"Gentlemen," Fiske addressed the two guests, flinching inwardly when applying the title to such as these. "My final guest has just arrived. I shall greet him myself, as a proper host. While I am doing so, please enjoy such hospitality that I have provided."

"Aye, an' well enough," Killigan held up his cup, which another monkey promptly filled with tea. "Yer tea and crumpets be first rate, even if I don't know why ye brought us here."

"You will learn shortly," Fiske offered a shallow bow. "And I can assure you that you won't be disappointed."

Fiske spun on his heel and strode purposefully towards his front door. Once out of the great hall, he gave yet another monkey a discrete wave. The wonderful creature nodded his understanding and scampered towards the kitchens. While he had been feeding his first two guests herbal tea, not trusting Killigan and Dementor in the same room while caffeinated, there would now be proper tea for all of his guests.

The monkeys' timing, which he had worked hard to drill in to them, was precise. One of them called from the upper level, prompting two more to sweep the doors open just as the car pulled up to the door. The two who had opened the doors rushed out and opened the car door for the guest, then one jumped onto the other's shoulders, allowing the upper monkey to open an umbrella and shelter the elderly man who emerged from the car. While the guest leaned on his cane, his pace made an observer wonder if he really needed the support.

"Lord Fiske," he greeted his host, with a cultured accent.

"Senor Senior," Fiske inclined his head respectfully. "Perhaps greetings could wait until you are out of the rain."

"Most thoughtful, young man," the elderly man smiled, while taking the offer to step into foyer. "Your homeland's weather is beyond your control, but your offer compelled me to venture into it."

"My other two guests have already arrived," Fiske informed him, as the piggybacked monkeys took the old man's coat and two more closed the doors. "If you would be so kind as to accompany me to the great hall, we can conduct our business in proper comfort."

"Lead on, young man," Senor Senior Senior instructed. "I am intrigued by those portions of your plan you have seen fit to share with me so far."

Fiske quickly ushered his guest to the great hall. For all that Duff Killigan was somewhat rough around the edges, the big Scotsman had the manners to rise his feet as they entered. Dementor remained seated, barely acknowledging them. Grinding his teeth, Fiske reminded himself that it wasn't necessary to like the irritating physicist, it was simply necessary to work with him. Soon, all parties were seated.

"Tis a fine idea ye had, laddie," Killigan complimented him before he could begin the meeting. "Seatin' th' eld gentleman nearest the fire."

"I had not noticed this," Senior noted. "It is, indeed, thoughtful of my host."

"Thoughtful or not, perhaps we should attend to the business at hand," Fiske informed his guests. "As a first step, perhaps introductions are in order."

In turn, Fiske introduced each of his guests to the others. Of the four at the table, he and Killigan were the most familiar with each other. As for the rest, everyone at least knew of each other by reputation. This made things go a little bit easier for Fiske.

"We all have different goals," Fiske announced. "While I seek supernatural power; the professor seeks technological power, Mister Killigan operates mainly as hired muscle and Senor Senior embraces villainy as a hobby. Despite these diverse interests, we all share a common obstacle."

"I believe you are referring to Miss Possible," Senior answered.

"Quite," Fiske nodded at the older man. "And it is my hope that we can work together to eliminate as a foil to all of us."

"An' just how d'ye propose do that?" Killigan asked. "If'n I understand th' situation, ye've tried spirits and powers, th' eld gent here 'as tried elaborate traps, th' wee scientist here 'as tried science while I've tried brute force. Nothin' seems te work."

"Ah, but I have another idea in mind," Fiske's grin betrayed the fiendish nature of his plan. "I will call upon a force that goes beyond the supernatural, beyond physical traps, force and science itself!"

"Nothing goes beyond science!" Dementor roared, leaping to his feet.

"But this does," Fiske countered. "Listen and learn!"

With that, Fiske detailed his plan, watching with satisfaction as his guests looked on first with confusion, then shock, then horror.

"While the Big Book of Villainy states that manipulating others to do ones bidding is the mark of a true genius," Senor Senior Senior commented, once Fiske outlined his plan. "I wonder if this is unleashing something we may regret."

"Aye," Killigan agreed. "Th' eld gent has a point. Yer dealin' w' powers ye canna control. Whose t' say that it won't turn on us?"

"I assure you that it is perfectly safe for us," Fiske told the two. "We simply put events in motion from the safety of our own homes. From this distance, what we call forth can not touch us, but the wretched cheerleader will be well within its reach!"

"So that's why you've called us!" Dementor pounded his fist on the table. "If you were to enlist that idiot Drakken, even he could see that he would be vulnerable! You were counting on us not putting ourselves in danger to be willing to help you!"

"Of course," Fiske managed to plaster a small smile over his sneer when he addressed the diminutive villain. "There are those who perhaps hate Kim Possible more than you, but you are those who both have reason to despise her, and are immune to the forces we will use to remove her as a threat. Now, will you play the parts I've chosen for you, or do I have to find truly ambitious men to assist me?"

"I'm in," Dementor declared. "If we move fast enough, she'll be out of the picture by the time I steal the Pan Dimensional Vortex Inducer again!"

"I am somewhat uneasy about this," Senior admitted. "But the Big Book of Villainy insists that risks must be taken. I shall assist you."

"I've a bad feelin'" Killigan admitted. "But I've been beaten too many times to not take the chance. Ye can count me in."

"Excellent, gentlemen," Fiske almost purred. "Mr. Killigan will be up first, followed by Dementor, then myself, then Senor Senior. Remember, once Possible accepts anything from us, she's doomed!"

With that, he was unable to control himself; he broke into his shrieking laughter, echoed immediately by his monkeys. Dementor also indulged in fiendish laughter while Senior and Killigan shared an uneasy look.

"I'm telling you KP, that man has it in for me!"

Kim Possible, teenage heroine, cheerleader, and best friend of one Ron Stoppable smiled indulgently at said friends ranting.

"You know," she addressed him, in a tone of reason. "You could spend a little less time zombie bashing and a little more time on Chemistry homework. I'm sure that would make Mr. Barkin's attention wander to someone else."

"But zombie bashing is my zen time!" Ron protested. "Digital violence lets me face the day on an even keel!"

"I thought that Bueno Nacho was your zen time," Kim couldn't keep a bit of a smirk off of her mouth.

"No, Bueno Nacho is may marinating time; a time to come to terms with what life has thrown at me since my last visit."

"Let me guess," Kim did a slight eye-roll. "This also keeps you on an even keel."

"I need it," Ron insisted. "I need all the keel evening I can get. My keel is seriously off kilter."

"Now there's something the two of us can agree on," Kim retorted, glad to get in the last shot as they reached the front door of Middleton High.

"Oh, ha-ha," Ron groused, following her through the door and leaving the crisp, autumn morning behind. "You have to admit, that between being a teenager, and a student, and a mascot, and a sidekick to a world renown heroine, my life is bound to be more than a little hectic."

"Ron, the bad guy activity has really dropped off the last couple of weeks," Kim was polite enough to not point out that she had an even more hectic life, but still maintained a 3.9 GPA. Experience had taught her that such a reminder would only bring on a bizarre, yet entertaining explanation. Ordinarily, she would welcome the diversion but right now, she wanted to concentrate on her next classes.

"I don't care if the bad guys are taking it easy," Ron grumped. "My keel still needs proper maintenance."

"Maybe you could do some preventative maintenance by getting your chemistry score up a little," she retorted, now opening her locker and shuffling the books she needed for the next block of classes. "If you keep Mr. Barkin from knocking that keel out of whack in the first place, you won't need so much energy to put it back in place."

"Sounds risky," he grumbled. "I prefer tried and true."

Any retort she could have come up with was interrupted when Wade's face appeared on her computer screen.

"We've got some activity, Kim," he reported. "Duff Killigan's buying patterns have really broken out of their usual pattern lately. He's been buying all sorts of herbicides, pesticides, paint, and cleaning supplies."

"What's so nasty about that?" Ron asked.

"He could be using them for their intended purposes," Wade admitted. "Or he could be using them to make explosives, poisons...all sorts of things."

"Yet another reason to study chemistry," Kim noted.

"He's also purchased a great deal more food than usual," Wade continued. "I've managed to get the feed from a couple of satellite passes over his island, and it looks that there's been increased activity around this castle."

"When's our ride?" Kim asked.

"It will show up in ten minutes," Wade informed her.

"Another day of school missed," Kim grumbled.

"And another day of falling behind in chemistry," Ron added. "So much for my even keel."

"Okay, so just what is it that we're supposed to be looking for?" Ron asked, as he and Kim prepared to jump from the aircraft and parachute onto Killigan's Island.

"Anything out of the ordinary," Kim reminded him.

"With Killigan, how can we tell what isn't normal?" Ron asked. "I mean, this is a man who uses exploding golf balls."

"We'll just have to guess it when we see it," Kim insisted.

She jumped, not giving her friend any time to continue the pointless conversation. She reveled in the feeling of free fall, then pulling her ripcord and landing, minimizing the time she was dangling helpless under the canopy. Ron, of course, pulled his ripcord way too soon and still managed a considerably less than graceful meeting with the Earth. Still, it looked like they were on the island, undetected.

"We're in, Wade," Kim spoke into her Kimmunicator, while Ron bundled the parachutes and hid them in some bushes. "Any suggestions?"

"Another load of paint was delivered just a couple of hours ago," Wade told her. "I suggest you get into the castle, check storage rooms and see if you can see what became of it. That could go a long way towards telling us what he's been up to lately."

"We're on our way," Kim told him, leading Ron on a stealthy approach to the castle.

"KP!" Ron suddenly whispered. "Someone's coming from the left!"

Kim hid herself behind another bush and peeked through the branches, noting a kilt-clad man, driving an ATV with a tank on the back. She noted that the ATV also had a sprayer attachment when the man drove by, spraying the fairway. Looking up, she noted that several more men were working on Killigan's golf course.

"Is it just me, or does the course look a lot better than it did the last time we were here?" Ron whispered to her.

"He's really worked on it," Kim agreed. "C'mon!"

Even though there were lots of people working on the property, they were so intent on their tasks that it was easy for the two to approach the castle unseen. There, they solved another mystery.

"I think we figured out where the paint went," Kim updated Wade. "There's a work crew painting every wooden surface we can see. As for the herbicides and pesticides, it looks like Duff has people spraying them on his golf course. The whole place is really looking nice."

"So who's he trying to impress?" Ron asked.

"No idea," Wade admitted. "But this is still suspicious. Why would he invest in a major, and expensive, property upgrade?"

"I don't know," Kim told him. "But I'm pretty sure we'll find out more inside. We're going in!"

"Be careful," Wade cautioned. "This has me sort of creeped out."

The two teens found an open window on the second floor, on a section of the wall unobserved by the workmen. Kim launched her grapple and grabbed Ron, pulling him along as her hair dryer pulled her up and through the opening. Kim landed like a cat while Ron sprawled on his stomach, both quickly realizing that the floor was sticky.

"Ugh, what's this?" Ron grumbled, pulling himself free of the floor and looking around.

"And the smell," Kim added, pulling one foot off of the adhesive floor.

"Tis called varnish!" A familiar voice yelled at them from the door. "And what be the tew of ye doin' gettin' into it?"

"We're here to stop your plan!" Kim snapped at the burly Scotsman, dropping into a martial arts stance.

"Aye, ye're doin' a fine job o' stopping me maintenance," Duff admitted. "But I canne understand why. Ye've already ruined this floor, so ye might as well come on out of there, me workmen are going te have to refinish it now."

"But, what's your evil plan?" Ron asked, as the two teens squelched their way toward the door where the angry man was waiting.

"Evil plans?" Duff shook his head. "There's no evil going on here. I'm jest tryin' to fix the place up so it looks presentable for me clients. Now, take off yer shoes; just because ye ruined the varnish on that floor doesn't mean ye can track it around my other floors."

"Clients?" Kim asked. "You're going to bring villains here?"

"O' course not!" Duff scoffed. "Fer all me temper, I'm a gewd golfer. I'm gonna be bringin' in folks who want t' learn the fine game."

"You're going to become a golf instructor?" Ron asked, incredulous.

"Golf and cooking," Duff told them, ushering the two now sock-clad teens ahead of him down the hallway. "Sert o' a boarding school fer both. But th' two o' ye are in big trouble; trespassing on me lands an' into me own home!"

"We thought you were up to something underhanded!" Kim insisted.

"Tell it t' the courts!" Killigan growled. "Although..."

"Although?" Kim prompted.

"Any court is likely t' only give ye' a wee slap on th' wrist," he said. "I'll not make the call if th' two of ye'll do me a bit o' a favor."

"And what favor would that be?" Kim asked, suspiciously.

"Ye'll take a golf lesson from me, lassie," Duff told her. "While ye're companion here takes a cooking lesson from me cousin. That will give me and me daft cousin a wee bit o' practice before th' paying clients show up."

"So if we take lessons from you, you'll not press charges?" Kim was flabbergasted.

"As long as ye sign documents statin' that you received this trainin'," he told them.

"Well, I guess that sounds reasonable," Kim agreed.

"Fine," Duff nodded. "I'll show th' two of ye where ye can put on proper attire."

Three hours later, Kim and Ron were on a flight heading back to the U.S. Both had covered baskets, the result of Ron's lesson at Killigan's castle.

"That was weird," Ron grumbled. "And more than a little disturbing. I've never been caught, then educated before."

"Weird," Kim agreed. "But what was so disturbing about it?

"I...I liked the haggis," Ron admitted. "Granted, it could use some proper Tex-Mex seasonings, but...I liked it."

"Eeeeew," Kim flinched. "You know what it is!"

"Yeah," he shuddered. "But you liked it, too!"

"What?" She gasped. "You mean..."

"Yep," he nodded. "That's what we fed you when you and Duff got off of the course and that's what we have with us right now."

Far behind the aircraft, even out of the range of Kim's horrified shriek, Duff Killigan spoke into a phone.

"It's done," he said. "I can't say I'm comfortable with doin' this, but 'tis done."

"And they accepted your hospitality?" Fiske asked him.

"Every wee bit," Duff assured him.

"Excellent," Fiske purred. "They have just walked into the jaws of their own doom! Now, to nudge them just a little farther into the maw."

Hanging up, Fiske decided that he needed a new metaphor before logging on to his computer to send an email to a recipient in Germany.

"I'm telling you, KP, that man still has it out for me," Ron was grumbling, once again, on the way to school.

"And like I said, you should work on your chemistry homework a little harder," Kim retorted. "At least the bad guys have been laying low again."

"True," Ron agreed. "Ever since that trip to Killigan's Castle, and that really wasn't fighting the bad guys, we haven't had any missions."

"A peaceful week," Kim noted. "Which makes me wonder what the bad guys are up to."

Almost as if cued by her statement, her Kimmunicator chimed its familiar tone.

"Go, Wade!" Kim answered the call.

"Dementor's up to something," Wade informed his friends. "There's unusual activity at his castle, more people than usual coming and going. In addition, something recently started to transmit a very powerful electromagnetic field."

"Any ideas?" Ron asked.

"I can't come up with anything," Wade confessed. "But he is a physicist, so producing energy is playing to his strengths."

"Which means he needs to be investigated," Kim concluded his thought. "Get our ride here, we're on our way."

"Aw, man!" Ron whined. "I never thought I'd be sorry to not go to school!"

Ron's complaints aside, they were soon on an aircraft for their second trip to Europe in as many weeks. Despite the fact that it was a jet aircraft, it was several hours before they reached their destination. They were unable to parachute out of this aircraft, but they were able to catch a ground ride from the airport to the vicinity of Dementor's castle. With Wade's guidance, they found a corner that wasn't covered by security cameras and climbed over the outer wall.

"There are vehicles parked in the courtyard," Kim whispered into the Kimmunicator. "That's not a usual thing for him. Also, what's that big funnel sticking up from the tower?"

"I can't tell you much about the funnel, other than the fact that air being pulled into it." Wade informed them. "I'm running the vehicle tags through my database, and most of them appear to belong to licensed electricians and linemen."

"So whatever he's up to, it involves a great deal of electrical power," Ron concluded. "And...air?"

"That seems to make sense," Kim admitted. "Okay Wade, see if you can find us a way inside."

Between the old standby, duct-work, as well as some utility access points, Wade mapped out a route into the imposing structure. Unfortunately, shortly after getting inside, the Kimmunicator signal started to break up.

"It must...be...the...field," Wade reported. "It's...affect..."

"Okay, we lost contact," Kim told Ron. "But we're not giving up. We have to find out what Dementor is up to. If nothing else, we'll take video footage of what we find and let Wade analyze it once we regain contact."

Ron nodded nervously; he didn't like being out of contact with Wade, but understood the need. Hoping that the maps that Wade had worked up, as well as Ron's memory of his previous visit while searching for a library book would be enough, they wound their way deeper into the ancient, but recently upgraded, structure. Finally, they found themselves overlooking a large room.

"I'm no scientist," Ron grumbled. "But look at the size of the wires coming off that giant cylinder thingy, it has to be eating up a lot of power."

"And all those glass containers with bubbling liquids in them," Kim added. "I don't know what sort of scheme Dementor's got up his sleeve, but that certainly looks dire."

"Hey, there goes the little guy himself," Ron pointed across the vast chamber. "He's going into that room...I bet it's his control point."

"Wherever he is, is where we're going," Kim decided. "We have to stop him."

It took several more minutes, doing their best to keep to shadows, to work their way to the door that the diminutive scientist had used, but the teens managed to get there without raising an alarm. Not wanting to waste time, Kim kicked the door open and burst inside, followed by Ron. They saw Dementor who, with a pair of men wearing lab coats, were giving the intruders shocked expressions.

"Fraulein Possible!" Dementor gasped. "What are you doing he...ouch!"

Kim's front kick sent the villain sprawling while Ron searched several banks of controls, looking for a self destruct button. To Kim's shock, the two men with Dementor didn't attack her, but backed away with fearful expressions on their faces.

"What for did you do that!" Dementor growled at the redhead, struggling to his feet while rubbing his jaw.

"We're putting an end to your scheme!" Kim snapped at him. "Whatever horrid operation you're working on, it stops now!"

"I don't think that the residents of Germany and Poland will really appreciate it if you shut me down," Dementor grumbled at her. "And I wouldn't call providing electrical power at a reasonable price, and pollution free, to be horrid. Of course, Americans might have different sensibilities than Europeans so I can't be sure."

"What?" Kim demanded.

"That is my scheme, it you want to call it that," he scowled at her. "I have a multi-dimensional phase material generator that sends a pinprick of matter to a lower power dimension and harvests the waste power in the form of electricity. You can see the the heart of the operation down below."

"So that's what that thing is?" Ron mused.

"No, that thing is merely the generator, converting the direct current produced into alternating current for distribution to the power grids all through Northern Europe! The entire castle stands on the top of my generator!"

"Wow!" Ron's eyes flew wide, and Kim felt a certain amount of awe, as well.

"But what about those bubbling liquids?" Kim demanded. "Are you going to tell me that this isn't some vile experiment to take over the world."

"Nein!" Dementor snapped. "It's electrolysis."

"You know, I feel I should know what you're talking about," Ron commented. "But I don't."

"Ah, such idiocy," Dementor shook his head. "I'm passing electricity through distilled water to separate the oxygen from the hydrogen."

"For what sinister purpose?" Kim demanded.

"For the sinister purpose of finding an alternative to natural gas!" Dementor's voice was equally rage and sarcasm. "I am producing much more wattage here than the local grid can distribute to Europe, so I am using some of the excess to create hydrogen, and am experimenting with mixing this hydrogen with air-pollution carbon to create a natural gas substitute that I can sell." He shook his head. "That part has eluded me so far, I will admit it."

"I'm still not up on that electro-whateveritises," Ron admitted. "Why are you zapping water?"

"To get the hydrogen!" Dementor snapped at him. "Can't you even understand that?"

"No," Ron admitted.

"But it is the most simple of electro-chemical reactions!"

"Which might explain why I'm failing high school chemistry!"

Kim didn't understand how her friend could make a failure sound defiant, but he had managed it.

"Urghh..." Dementor face-palmed and them, but so quickly that Kim couldn't be sure, she swore a momentary cunning look on his face.

"Why don't I make a deal with you, Fraulein Possible," the scientist offered. "I will have two of my assistants take you on a tour of the generator, then take you out to where you can communicate with your young, adequately educated, assistant. Once you've communicated with the youngster and confirmed that this is not some vile scheme, you can leave me be to make my living...no?"

"Well, that makes sense," Kim admitted.

"And in the meantime, I'll provide your companion with some understanding of basic chemistry. If I provide you with a tour and a lesson, if I prove my intents, will you just leave me alone?"

"Well...that sounds like a good deal," Kim admitted.

"A...beneficial...deal to you?" Dementor pressed.

"Well, yeah," Kim was more than a little confused.

"Excellent!" Dementor crowed. "I have a workstation where I can download the dumbko...er...young man's class assignments. Fritz here will take you on your tour."

While Kim was leery about separating from Ron during a mission, she didn't see a logical reason why she shouldn't. It took hours, as Fritz the technician allowed her to video and photograph everything. When she finally finished, he led her out of the facility, where she could regain contact with Wade. The young genius confirmed that everything Dementor claimed appeared to be true. Somewhat chagrined, she returned to the control room, where Dementor was finishing Ron's lesson.

"So you now understand how atoms can share electrons, thus forming the bonds?" Dementor asked the boy.

"Yeah," Ron nodded. "It's kind of like having spaces on different sized shelves, and every atom wants full shelves."

"A simplistic, yet apt analogy," the professor grumbled. "But in any case, you are now ready to deal with your high school exams."

"I am," Ron agreed.

"Sorry for the shot to the jaw," Kim apologized to the man. "We thought that you were up to...well...something you are usually up to."

"I will heal," Dementor growled at her. "But if the two of you will make yourselves scarce, as quickly as possible, it will let me get back to my livelihood, no?"

Taking the hint, Kim and Ron left and were delighted when Wade was able to scare up a ride within a few minutes. Once his guests were on their way, Dementor returned to the control room, shooed the technicians away and made a video call to England.

"So Dementor," Fiske answered the call. "Were you able to follow my instructions?"

"I went one better," the small man told him. "Not only did I give the Fraulein the tour, I gave the idiot a chemistry lesson."

"Ah..." Fiske nodded. "Well done, I believe I can use that to even greater advantage. I will be in touch."

Fiske cut off the connection before Dementor could say any more. Smiling, the Englishman sent a series of emails to various places around the globe. In a week or so, stealthy purchases and shipments, not quite illegal but the sort of thing that Possible's unwholesomely clever technical support would pick up on, would be made.

The next act would be his to perform.

"I tell you KP, I was in the zone this week!" Kim's smile was genuine as the two took their usual Friday night booth in Bueno Nacho. "I aced the Chemistry exam, Barkin only spoke eighteen and a half words to me all week, and the Mad Dog completely nailed it at the basketball game!"

"I'm pretty sure your getting the A on the exam Monday had a lot to do with Barkin leaving you alone," she pointed out. "So if you put in the effort, it will keep him away from you."

"You know, that sounds an awful lot like a work ethic," Ron challenged her.

"Well, why not?" Kim asked him. "Isn't it worth it? After all, the missions are way down." Kim couldn't keep a frown off of her face as she mentioned the last piece of information.

"We had two missions," Ron countered. "That isn't really down, is it?"

"No," Kim admitted. "But one search for a missing person and one drone recovery isn't our usual week."

"You miss going up against the bad guys?" Ron shook his head. "I don't like dodging rays."

"Neither do I," Kim told him. "But the bad guys haven't done anything for weeks! I wonder what they're saving up for us."

Before Ron could answer, her Kimmunicator generated the chime that informed her, before she answered, that Wade had found something vital.

"Go, Wade."

"I've got some odd activity centered around Fiske," the youngster reported.

"Well, he's and odd sort of person," Ron retorted.

"Odd, as in acquiring artifacts and shipping them to his castle in England," Wade answered.

"He is an archaeologist," Kim pointed out. "Isn't that sort of what they do?"

"Not tricky like this," Wade told her. "Here have been several cash transactions, purchasing artifacts from Vietnam and Cambodia. It isn't illegal, but it's clear that Fiske has made some effort to acquire these things under the radar. The shipping arrangements were also convoluted, but I tracked them to a village close to his castle. That was enough to tip me off enough to arrange for an overhead drone. I couldn't get enough resolution to pick up who, or what picked up several of the shipments, but they were loaded onto a truck that then went to Monty's castle."

"How did you even find out this was happening?" Ron asked.

"My systems alert me whenever monkey-related items are purchased or sold," Wade told him. "I sort of took it from there. Like I said, the purchases weren't illegal but they were clearly kept discrete."

"Which warrants investigation," Kim added. "It's late, but I assume we can sleep on the plane. When does our ride get here?"

"Twenty minutes," Wade told her.

Yet again, Team Possible found itself making a trip to Europe. Since they were familiar with Fiske's castle, and it was late at night, they slept for most of the trip, which made the journey seem much shorter that the previous flights. They did not have to parachute into the location, rather landing and taking ground transportation to the vicinity. After that, they hiked cross-country for several miles, hoping to catch Fiske unaware.

"Okay, Wade, what are your suggestions?" Kim asked, once they were in sight of the imposing castle.

"Some of these artifacts are tapestries and scrolls," Wade answered. "So I don't think you're going to find them down in the dank basement. Say whatever you will about him, Fiske takes care of antiquities. I suggest you concentrate on the main and second level, and the interior rooms."

"Got it," Kim nodded. "We're going in."

Rather than going in the lower levels, Kim used her grapple to get the two teens to the battlements on top of the structure. From there, they started to work their way downward and inward, keeping a careful watch for Fiske's monkey ninjas and other servants. Shortly after reaching the second level, they noted a small horde of monkeys, carrying tools, exiting an inner room. The two teens remained hidden until they monkeys had cleared the immediate area, shared a look, then burst into the room in question.

"What is the meaning of this!" Fiske himself demanded, turning to face the intruders.

"We're stopping your latest plan!" Kim retorted. She looked around and saw numerous examples of ancient, monkey-themed art.

"What is your plan, by the way?" Ron asked. "I mean, in the past we've dealt with Mystical Monkey Power, being the Ultimate Monkey Master, an amulet that turned people into monkeys, even monkey spirits. We pretty much have a cornucopia of monkey evil to deal with, so we'd appreciate it if you could narrow the field."

"If the two of you must know, my so-called evil plan consists of establishing a display of how various ancient cultures viewed and sometimes venerated simians," Fiske answered, with exaggerated dignity. "Phase two, which is taking place right now, is to team with a renown sociologist to study how various ancient cultures viewed monkeys; sometimes as small people, sometimes as divine messengers, and so forth. My third step will be to bring in promising students to experience this presentation and hopefully drum up an interest in archaeology. Finally, the horrible, terrifying culmination to my planning and work will be to bring in the public, so that the layman can gain an appreciation for monkeys and the impact they have exerted upon human culture over the centuries."

"So, no monkey ghosts or turning people into monkeys?" Ron asked.

"Eeergh," Monty face-palmed. "Miss Possible, why do you even bring this wretch with you?"

"Hey!" Kim snarled at the nobleman. "I couldn't save the world without him! I've tried and it doesn't work very well."

"So," Fiske regained his composure with commendable speed. "Would you say that anything that allows your companion to accompany you, benefits you?"

"Well...of course," Kim felt confused. "Look, are we supposed to fight or not?"

"I would vastly prefer to not do so around these irreplaceable artifacts," Monty pointed out. "However, why don't I demonstrate my presentation to the two of you, confirming to both yourselves...and your technical man who is undoubtedly listening in at the moment...that my claims are true?"

"Well, we don't really have anything else to do...if we're not going to be stopping some horrible scheme," Kim murmured.

"And as much as I don't much care for monkeys, I have to admit that Chippy was pretty cool," Ron added.

"And I'd like to confirm that the artifacts were all acquired legally," Wade's voice sounded over the Kimmunicator.

"What can I say?" Kim shrugged. "Present away."

Several house later, Fiske watched as the service vehicle carrying his teen adversaries vanished into the distance. While he had overheard the series of transportation modes that they would utilize to return to their home, he didn't care. It was only important that they were now gone, but had taken the tour he had provided. Grinning fiendishly, he slipped into his study and placed a video call to an island off of the coast of Spain.

"Lord Fiske," the elderly gentleman answered the call. "May I inquire as to the progress of your plan?"

"Of course," Fiske offered him a shallow bow. "The progress is perfect at this time. It is up to you to bring the last element into play."

"Indeed, young man," Senor Senior nodded. "I will also provide her with a cryptic hint as to the trap she is in."

"I do not understand this necessity," Fiske admitted.

"The Big Book of Villainy states that the cultured villain must give the hero a veiled reference to the plan."

"I am very uneasy about this," Fiske admitted. "But then again, she is already doomed. Please, keep the hint as cryptic as possible."

"I shall, young man," Senior assured his partner. "And let me say, it has been most stimulating to indulge in this plot."

"Thing's are still looking up!" Ron crowed, as the two teens made their way to see the Festival of Lights parade. "Granted, it got off to a rough start with the visit to Fiske's castle last Saturday, but another week with Barkin cutting me some slack, no dodging death-rays and exploding lairs, and two more games where the Mad Dog was in the zone!"

"What was so wrong about the trip to Fiske's castle?" Kim asked, reluctant to impose on his happy attitude.

"Any trip where I have to spend a couple of hours surrounded by monkey art is a sick and wrong experience."

"Ron, you enjoyed yourself," Kim protested.

"That's what makes it sick and wrong," he insisted. "I hate monkeys, end of story."

"I know that you trade texts and emails with Frederick," she pointed out, with a slight roll to her eyes.

"A true friend wouldn't point out my inconsistencies," he grumbled. Kim covered her mouth to hide her giggle.

"Well, you are right about things looking up," Kim admitted. "With the missions dropping off, we've both been able to concentrate on school more, your grades are coming up and my committees are doing better. It's nice to be able to relax a little."

Of course, that's when the Kimmunicator gave its distinctive chime.

"Don't tell me Wade," Kim asked, her way of answering. "As soon as we're about to do something we were looking forward to, a bad guy decides to do something odd."

"Well, it's been building for a while," Wade admitted. "But I've only detected the trend."

"Okay, what's up?"

"A small, but increasing number of the very rich throughout Europe have vanished. No ransom demands, no notes left behind, just suddenly gone. A couple days ago, a spy satellite over the Mediterranean sort of took an extensive series of pictures of Senior's Island. While the resolution wasn't good enough to make out details, there were numerous more people on the golf course and around the pool than usual."

"Anything else," Kim prompted.

"Well..." Wade was a little uneasy answering. "A drone, flown by the Spanish Navy, might have strayed a little off of its programmed course, taken some better pictures, then transmitted those pictures in such a way that I was able to intercept them."

"And what did you learn from the random, but fortunate, series of events?" Kim scowled at the screen.

"That several of the people who have vanished are at Senior's Island." He answered. "They don't appear to be constrained in any way, but it is odd that they all just suddenly showed up there."

"Odd enough to warrant an investigation, even though no national or international law enforcement agencies have probable cause?" Ron asked.

"Exactly," Wade nodded. "Although these same agencies will be very interested in finding out just why those people are there."

"When's our ride show up?" Kim asked.

"Fifteen minutes," Wade answered.

"Aw man!" Ron complained. "Another weekend ruined!"

"Look on the bright side," Kim pointed out. "At least we're going somewhere sunny and warm this time."

Again, the teens were able to sleep a great deal on the trip, but for once, Ron did some research once they were awake.

"There's a trend among the people that have vanished," he told Kim, once he had gone through the information that Wade had provided. "Almost all of them are retired. Of the ones that aren't, they have an executive officer taking care of day-to-day operations of their businesses."

"So you're saying that these are all people that can just run off someplace and spend a few days, or maybe weeks, away from home and work without causing problems?" Kim asked.

"Exactly," Ron nodded.

"That's a good catch," she complimented him. "What made you dig into the backgrounds of the people who had vanished?"

"Well, I just thought some research...might...help"

"But you didn't do research for the other missions we've been on," Kim mused, fixing him with a hard eye. "What's so special about Senior's island...Senior's warm sunny island..." Suddenly, her eyes flew wide. "You wanted to see if there were going to be cute girls in swimsuits lounging around the beach and the pool, didn't you?"

"Well...it might have crossed my mind..." he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No matter his motives," Wade interrupted. "That was a very good catch."

"Alright," Kim reluctantly agreed with him. "But what does that mean for the mission?"

"Maybe you should just sneak in and do some observation," Wade suggested. "After that, if it doesn't look like the people are being held against their will, you could just knock on the door and ask Senior what's going on."

"That is well off of our usual course of action," Kim told him. "And it just might catch him by surprise. We'll do it your way, Wade."

While Wade's suggested method of operation was unusual for the teens, they could go about the first step using their tried-and-true habits. They parachuted into the sea out of sight of the island, then scuba-dived to the rocky shore, opposite the beach. Hiding their equipment among the boulders, they scaled first the steep cliffs and then the wall. Peeking over the edge, they could see dozens of people, generally in their fifties and sixties, lounging around and socializing with each other. Several servers worked through the crowd, delivering light snacks and drinks.

"What do you think?" Kim asked Ron.

"It sure doesn't look like they're trying to get away," the boy noted.

"I've matched several of the faces through recognition software," Wade's voice announced, from the Kimmunicator. "They're the missing persons."

"Well, since they're not being held here, maybe we should just ask Senior what's happening," Kim agreed. "But we're not going to knock on the front gate! We have standards, so we'll climb down the wall and go to his front door. At least that way, we half-way sneaked in."

Pointedly ignoring both Ron's and Wade's expressions at this, she led the way down the wall and into Senior's compound. They wove through the guests and made their way to the front door of Senior's mansion, or his luxury lair, as he called it. The knock on the door was answered by a butler, who ushered them into a comfortable den while he went to locate the old man. It wasn't long before Senior himself joined them.

"Ah, the lovely Miss Possible, my teenage nemesis," he greeted the heroine. "And her companion and assistant, who's name escapes me at the moment. May I be so bold to say that it is good to meet you in a situation that is not confrontational?"

"Of course," Kim nodded politely while Ron rolled his eyes, irritated that another villain couldn't remember his name."

"Please be seated, my young guests, and tell me what brings you to my island." Senior took his own advice, settling into an over-stuffed chair.

"A large number of very wealthy people, across the globe, have suddenly disappeared," Kim explained, sitting in an ornate, yet comfortable chair. She noted that Ron seemed to have been relegated to a stool. "When...certain parties...noted that there were a lot more people on your island than there usually are, we got the call to check it out. We found that a lot of your guests were the people who vanished, and they don't appear to be held against their will."

"Ah, you came to my island expecting another showdown, and you wish to confirm that rescue is not necessary, before resorting to violence," Senior noted. "My dear, I recently embarked upon a business venture in which I host various powerful individuals who wish to simply leave their lives behind and bask in unencumbered luxury for a short time. The prices I charge are quite high, but my clientele finds my hospitality to be more than worth it."

"Why?" Ron interrupted. "I mean, this is a really nice place and all, but what sets you apart from a luxury resort?"

"I am glad you asked, young man," Senior smiled at the challenge. "You see, I cut off all access to these people while they are here. There are no accountants calling them to discuss investments, no board members emailing them with the latest crisis at their businesses, no relatives texting them to demand their presence at a family function. Once they come here, they are free to simply indulge in themselves until such time that they choose to return to their duties and responsibilities." Senior returned his attention to Kim. "While you have not yet taken on an adult's responsibilities, I understand that you are very busy at your educational institution, committing yourself to several organizations to enrich the experiences of your fellow students."

"Yes," Kim nodded.

"Do you ever wish to set these responsibilities aside and simply be a student, even for a very short time?"

"Well...it does occur to me every once in a very great while," she admitted.

"Then you understand what motivates my guests to suddenly drop everything and come to my island, no matter how far they may need to travel!" Senior declared. "The wish to be away from the demands and expectations, if only for a short time! Now you know that I did not kidnap these people, nor am I holding them against their will. Tell me, my dear, when does your transportation...your ride...arrive to return you home?"

"Well, we haven't set up the return trip yet," Kim admitted.

"Then, my dear, may I suggest that you do so, then you and your companion are free to take advantage of my hospitality until this transportation arrives?"

"We couldn't impose like that," Kim insisted. "And we don't have the money to pay for it."

"It will be my gift to you," Senior insisted. "My butler will lead you to the top of my luxury lair, where you will be able to connect to your support man. Once you do so, please return here and let me know for how long you will be able to honor me with your presence."

Kim didn't have a good reason not to do what he asked. Since the teens weren't in immediate danger, and they weren't leaving a hostile location, Wade was able to arrange a ride to pick them up from Senior's dock and convey them to an aircraft for their trip home. However, the ride wouldn't be there until the next morning. Upon returning to the den, Senior was delighted to put them up for the night.

That afternoon, some of the staff on Senior's island took their measurements and specifically tailored a formal dress for Kim and a tuxedo for Ron. The teens took in the diversions that Senior offered his guests, swimming at the beach, water-skiing in a sheltered bay. That evening, they attended a formal banquet as Senior's guest of honor. As much as Kim tried to say that she was an ordinary girl, she had to admit that it was flattering and exciting to hear Senior introduce her as 'the lovely and capable heroine, Miss Kimberly Possible and her companion, Mr. Ronald Stoppable'. It was during the meal that Senior's conversation gave her an uneasy feeling.

"So, Miss Possible," he addressed her. "You hobby of heroics must inhibit a great deal upon your personal time, does it not?"

"Well, yes," she admitted. "But helping people is worth it."

"Is it only the satisfaction you get from assisting others?" The old man prompted. "Surely, there are other experiences you have that help compensate for the drain upon your time?"

"I...don't understand," she admitted.

"I understand that in the course of your missions, you have had tea and crumpets at Buckingham Palace, you have visited the Taj Mahal, explored the passages in the Great Pyramid, enjoyed experiences that most people would not in several lifetimes."

"Well, yes," Kim nodded. "We've seen sights all over the world."

"My point," Senior smiled at her and for a moment, Kim swore that it was a calculating smirk. "While indeed, you and your companion expend a great deal of effort in your missions to help others, could you not say that the experiences, the gratitude you receive, enrich you?"

"Of course," Kim shrugged.

"Do you suspect that you wouldn't receive such generous compensation, if you had not achieved a certain fame, from previous good works?" He continued.

"Well, I guess it has something to do with it," she admitted.

"And your companion, Mr. Stoppable," Senior favored Ron with a toasting motion with his glass. "Many underestimate him, but he is truly an indispensable element in your success, is he not?"

"Very much so," Kim instinctively patted her best friend on his shoulder. "I couldn't save the world without him."

"So anything that keeps him by your side in your endeavors is a benefit to you, is it not?"

"Yes," Kim was feeling a little uneasy. "Senior, what's this all about?"

"Ah, just the idle musings of an old man, my dear," he assured her. "At my age, men enjoy hearing of the trials and rewards of those younger and bolder than themselves. But enough of my odd humor, there is food and entertainment to enjoy!"

Indeed, the food was delicious and plentiful and the musicians that Senior had hired to perform for his guests were very talented. After the meal, there was formal dancing and not only did Kim dance with Senior and several of his guests, Ron was capable of performing the steps on the floor, and not her feet. All too soon, the late hour, and the activities of the day, prompted Kim to call it a night. She and Ron retired to their rooms to sleep in decadent luxury, waking refreshed in the morning.

Of course, Senior treated them to a wonderful breakfast and accompanied them to his docks, seeing them off on a small yacht.

"I hope you enjoyed your short stay on my island," the old gentleman-turned-villain said, as she and Ron were getting ready to board the boat. "But I must warn you that benefits that appear to be free often turn out to be the most expensive."

"I have no problem repaying your generosity with a favor," Kim told him, feeling a little uneasy.

"Then it wouldn't be generosity, would it?" Senior countered, with a twinkle in his eye. "No, Miss Possible, I will never ask any sort of repayment for the hospitality it was both my honor and my pleasure to provide. However, I would be a very poor host if I did not warn you that there are those out there who seek to profit from others exchanging goods and services. There are those who gaze with covetous eyes upon your exchanging favors for assistance. I am not one of these people, Miss Possible; I truly enjoy the challenge of being a villain and contending with a hero. There are those, however, for whom villainy is more than a hobby. Of course, the Big Book of Villainy accepts that, and calls for the casual villain to work with those whom have embraced villainy as a way of life."

"What?" Kim was now very nervous.

"You have heard all you will from me, Miss Possible," Senior now looked sly. "The Big Book of Villainy calls for me to give you a cryptic hint of dangers to come; I have done so. Good luck, it is time for me to return to my abode, leaving you to contemplate my last words with thoughtful trepidation. Farewell."

Senior made his unhurried way to his home, leaving Kim staring after him with thoughtful trepidation.

A hidden camera on board the yacht let Senior know that Kim and her companion were on board, leaving his island, even though they appeared to be having a nervous and intense conversation. The fact that this conversation involved both of them giving his island several nervous, thoughtful looks told him that his final, cryptic hint had given them the proper level of foreboding. Satisfied that he had played his part to perfection, he placed a video call to England.

"Excellent work," Lord Fiske congratulated his partner, after hearing the full report. "I was nervous at your insistence that you provide a cryptic hint, but she is already doomed. All that is left is for me to close the jaws of the trap."

Closing the window, Fiske called up the appropriate website but paused before clicking the mouse's button. Perhaps some of Senior's mannerisms were wearing on him, but he found himself savoring the moment; knowing that once his finger descended, his teenage affliction would be crushed. In his mind, his finger was no longer a digit pressing a mouse's button; it was a finger pulling a trigger, it was a descending guillotine blade, or a crushing boulder smashing down upon the wretched cheerleader. How delicious it was, knowing that her very fate would be decided by a few grams of pressure. Smiling broadly, he exerted this pressure upon the button. She was now out of the hero business...she just didn't know it yet.

Kim Possible was on the top of the world! As much as she sort of missed fighting the bad guys, she had to admit that the trip to Senior's Island had been a great deal of fun. Frolicking on a sunny beach, and in the warm sea, had been great. The formal dinner, dressed to the nines and with Ron looking respectable had been a wonderful end to the day. Monday and Tuesday's classes had gone great, Bonnie even seemed to be less irritating, probably due to the upcoming holidays, and the plans for the winter ball were finalized early, letting her think about the dance itself.

Opening her locker between classes, she shuffled her books. Even the homework seemed to be easing off; it was going to be a great Christmas this year! Her computer screen suddenly switched on, and Wade's expression told her that something serious was afoot.

"Something dire has just happened," Wade told her. "As we speak, you're being excused for the rest of the school day. You need to go home, now."

"I'll get Ron..." Kim started to say.

"This isn't a mission," Wade interrupted. "And Ron won't be able to help you. Go home, you'll find out what is happening when you get there."

"My parents!" Kim gasped. "The tweebs? Nana or Cousin Larry..."

"You family is all fine," Wade told her. "You just need to get home. It's...pretty bad."

Needing no further prompting, the teen heroine rushed out of Middleton High. As she ran out the front door, she caught a glimpse of Mr. Barkin looking at her with an expression that was both pitying and fearful. The familiar landmarks passed in a blur, she was sprinting so hard. Down the last street, up the sidewalk, she threw open her front door.

"Mom! Dad!" She yelled, rushing into the den. "What's hap...pen...ing?"

She stammered to a halt when she saw her parents waiting, their faces ashen, along with a pale man in a business suite and...Burn Berman?"

"Kim," her father placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "This is terrible, but I'm sure that we can get through it." He took a deep, bracing breath. "After all, anything is possible for a Possible."

"Miss Possible," the unnamed man approached and offered his hand. "I am Agent Dosserman, from the Internal Revenue Service."

Feeling numb, Kim shook the proffered hand.

"Miss Possible, an anonymous tip led us to review your activities," the agent continued. "It seems you travel the entire country, even the entire world, doing good deeds for others and asking that they provide you with favors in return. Usually, these favors take the form of transportation, but they also include meals, lodging, and even entertainment or education. You also receive a great deal of publicity for these good deeds, which has generated further compensation. After careful review, we had determined that the various favors, publicity and compensation you have received, constitute beneficial and therefore, taxable income."

Kim could only stare at the man, slack-jawed.

"For example," he told her. "In the last four weeks, you have made four trips to Europe, indulged in golf lessons, a museum tour and archaeology lesson from a top-notch archaeologist, and a stay at an incredibly exclusive and luxurious resort. In addition, your companion received instruction in preparing ethnic cuisine, private tutoring from a Nobel-level physicist, as well as the same stay at the resort."

"Leave Ron out of this!" Kim snarled.

"Oh, he will face no penalties," Dosserman assured her. "Nor will your technical support man. Since their names are unknown to the general public, they simply don't benefit to the degree that you do. However, anything that helps your companion assist you is a benefit that you will have to address in your tax burden. One last thing, I have already subpoenaed the computer records of one Mr. Wade Lode. We will be able to track every activity you indulged in as Kim Possible, the heroine."

"This can't be happening," Kim murmured.

"We're sticking with you," James Possible wrapped his arm around his daughter's shoulders. Giving the agent a hard look, he added. "And our accountant is going to be there, as well."

"That's perfectly fine," Dosserman shrugged, taking a seat on the Possible couch and setting an iPad on the coffee table. "Let's start with the 2nd of January, of this year. You took a mission to rescue a man, who found himself on an island in the middle of a partially frozen lake, with no idea how he had gotten there. Doing so, you made use of four hundred and twenty miles of private air travel, and six hours of a skilled pilot's time. Using standard rates for both, this means that you consumed a financial benefit of..."

The gym was decorated so well that you had to look carefully to see the basketball hoops and the carefully folded bleachers. The band was belting out a lively tune and about half of the swarm of teens that were present were dancing to the music. Kim, despite wearing the fine dress that Senior had made for her, and being accompanied by Ron, who was wearing the tux he had received at the same time, just couldn't get into the 'Winter Ball' mood.

"So you're saying that the agent could put a dollar amount on everything?" Ron asked.

"Everything," Kim grumbled. "By the time that human calculator finished, it turns out I had an income of over a quarter of a million dollars for this year, even though I didn't actually see a dime."

"And that's why you stopped the missions?" He asked. During the conversation, Monique joined the two.

"Every one just puts me deeper in debt," she growled. "Until I can get officially recognized as a non-profit organization, I'm out of the hero business."

"Just...how much do you owe?" Ron asked. "And is there anything I can do to help?"

"As for the how much, just over ninety eight thousand dollars," she half-sobbed, half-laughed. "As for anything you can do to help, not at this moment." She took a deep breath. "I...had to do something to get the ball rolling and make enough to pay what was initially due."

"What did you do?" Monique asked. "And did it have anything to do with those conversations with Coco Banana himself?"

Bonnie Rockwaller's horrid laughter, which preceded the brunette herself, interrupted the conversation. Smirking, Kim's rival shoved her smart phone almost under the redhead's nose.

"I'd say that you had a good look, K," Bonnie snickered. "But I'd be lying."

Bonnie activated a control and Kim's own voice sounded out of the speaker. With expressions of growing horror, Ron and Monique stared at the add that Bonnie had just downloaded.

"High, I'm Kim Possible," the image on the small screen declared. "And you've probably seen me fighting bad guys, rescuing people from natural disasters, or even cheering for my team." The screen showed quick clips of her doing all of those activities. "I put in a great deal of effort in what I do, and I risk a lot, but I won't risk my hair being unmanageable. That's why I always use Fullbody shampoo and conditioner, the only shampoo and conditioner to be approved by Club Banana, and Kim Possible."

"Oh my," Ron gasped, looking at his best friend with both horror and pity. "You had to endorse?"

"I...needed the money," Kim looked away, but could find no solace. Outside the gym, a city bus drove by, on its side was a newly applied advertisement, showing her climbing a mountainside and crossing a desert. The caption read "she wears Tuff-sole Boots, wherever she goes." She refused to drop her gaze; she forced herself to meet the looks of amusement, pity and disgust. This was only the tip of the iceberg. There were adds in which she endorsed active wear, deodorant and cosmetics. Eventually, she would be able to get back into the heroine business and when she did, whomever brought the IRS down on her would pay dearly.

But until then, she was forced to live the horror.

Epilogue:

Lord Montgomery Fiske smiled a tired, but satisfied smile. The latest dig, in a remote section of Southern China, was going well; with no interruptions from the irritating cheerleader. It had been two months since he had sprung his trap, and it appeared that the irritating teen was still weeks away from being able to become a meddling hero again. He had made full use of the time, finding and studying ancient artifacts and writings. Soon, ultimate power would be his! However, he had to admit that he was feeling just a little uneasy.

Was it just his imagination, or had Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs Service inquired into his affairs a little more strenuously than in previous years? Perhaps he was jittery, but he thought that his accountant was a little more reluctant to report to him as of late. While he was making great strides in his quest for supernatural power, he couldn't shake the notion that he may have eliminated Kim Possible as a nemesis, only to replace her with something far, far worse.