Kim Possible Porn Story: Tempus Initium Chapter 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible or any of the related characters or property. They are owned by Disney. Likewise, I do not own the song ‘To Far Away Times’, as it is the intellectual property of Square-Enix, whom only seem care about their copyrights when a fan-made ROM hack of a 14 year old game far outshines the recycled crap they’ve been putting out for the last nine years or so. You heard me, Square-Enix. Finally, I did not come up with the lyrics for ‘To Far Away Times’. They were written by Andrew Triplett as part of the Chrono Symphonic remix album, and the world is better for it. All of the above was utilized without permission. No attempt was made on my part to profit form these works; indeed such an endeavor would not even be possible.
A/N: This story was written in response to a challenge on the KP Slash Haven. The challenge was simple: Write a Kim Possible story in thirty minutes. Turns out that’s a lot harder than it sounds.
Yes, the title has changed. See A/N at the end of the chapter for details
Tempus Initium
The entire lair shook with a distant explosion.
Dr. Drakken’s head snapped up from the computer console before him to look at another screen just off to his right. Blast! he snapped as the meaning of the rapidly changing flashing lights and blips of color became clearer and clearer. Shego!
Little busy! was the woman’s reply. She was kneeling before the bizarre platform in the center of the room, her hand hovering over an access hatch there. An arc of green-black plasma as thin as a pencil burst from her finger tip to the circuit board hidden away there, soldering the last few components into place. It wasn’t a neat job far from it, actually but it didn’t have to be. It just had to work.
Drakken opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it and turned his attention back to his console. The screen flickered as another explosion rocked the base, but soon returned to full brightness. He was thankful for that. It was hard enough to read with just his one surviving eye. He glanced back up at the threat board. Damn that buffoon! He’s taken out one of the auxiliary generators! If he keeps this up !
The lab will go boom? Shego spat as she tried to replace the access panel over the hatch she had been working in. But the heat form her plasma must have wrapped something in the metal of the housing. Even after several attempts, the stupid thing refused to slide into place. Each frustrating clang of metal on metal seemed to echo in the pale thief’s head as though it was laughing at her, until the fifth and final attempt. With a cry that almost sounded bestial in its misplaced rage, Shego snatched the panel with both hands and sent it flying more or less straight up. It spun into the air, nearly reaching the valuated ceilings of the lair. Then an emerald wad of plasma stuck it, transforming it into molten slag which then began to rain down.
Drakken’s face fell. Shego! No! The platform–! he cried as leaped to his feet. Too late he realized his mistake; the instant he placed weight on his left leg, his world exploded in fresh agony and he collapsed on his side, screaming. Before the pain could wipe out his consciousness, Shego was at his side, pulling him up and siting him back in his chair. Don’t you die on me yet, Dr. D. I need you to make this thing work.
She glanced over her shoulder at the middle of the room. It was mess of hastily jury-rigged cables and computer stations, of glass and metal. They were all connected to the raised platform in the middle of the room, basically a circular dais upon which a glass tube, big enough for single occupant if they sucked their stomach and didn’t have to breathe, was fitted. Several of the cables were running to this glass tube, the rest were running to a transparent pod about the size of beach ball over it. In this second, smaller pod were swirling particles of shattered stone that shone with faint green light. It was easily the ugliest thing Dr. Drakken had ever made, and that was counting the prototype Bebe’s from his college years. But it was also their only hope. Thankfully, it was undamaged by her outburst
Princess, Shego thought bitterly. The things I do for you…
The lab shook again. Then all was suddenly quiet. Shego felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Drakken seemed to feel it too. He swallowed his pain, turned back to his computer, and typed as fast as he could, faster than Shego had ever seen him work. Data and calculations flew over the screens so fast that Shego couldn’t keep up with it all. She suspected that tub of lard tech-geek Kimmie used to depend on so much would have been hard-pressed to keep up with Dr. D just then.
The lair’s intercom system crackled to sudden life. No place to run now, Drewbie, came the voice. It squeaked slightly with that awkward register that so often plagued of adolescent males. Rather than rob the the voice of malevolence, however, it only seemed to make it worse. I just took out your hangar, both the big one and the secret one. There’s one way off this rock, and it’s at the tip of the Lotus Blade. Can I get a Booya?
Dr. Drakken began to type faster still. Shego! Get ready! she cried out as another vibration shook the base. But this one was much closer… too close. Drakken looked up to see the large steel doors that was the only way in or out of the lab the lab buckle slightly. There was another crash of warping metal, and the dent became more pronounced.
He was here.
Plasma erupted around Shego’s closed fists as she stared at the weakening doors. How much time do you need? she asked Drakken.
A few more minutes, he said quickly. Maybe five?
On the other side of the door the pounding stopped. There was second of silence, then the silvery tip of the Lotus Blade plunged straight through it, piercing all seven inches of steel with all the difficulty of a hot knife through butter. It was being dragged through the door, making a small square-shaped breach.
You got two, Shego said. She placed herself between the door and Drakken, the green fire around her hands and arms growing from its usual glow to a bright inferno of roaring and light. The instant the blade was done playing the part of can opener and the cut section of steel fell forward, Shego unleashed the largest blast of plasma she could ever remember mustering in her life. A column of green-black fire roared through opening, warping then melting the steel around it. Sweat was pouring down her face and she kept the stream up for a good forty-five seconds. Then it quit all at once, her reserves of energy spent.
Drew chanced a look around her now shaking body. Did you get him? he asked.
Less talking more typing! Shego barked out in between gasps for breath. Drakken gave a slight yelp, but did turn his attention back to the console. Shego kept her eyes focused on the doorway. The heat from her desperation move was causing the air to waver around the now circular hole. Drips of molten metal occasionally splattered on the ground. But there was no sign of Stoppable.
Finished! Drakken yelled. Shego spun to face him. The platform in the center of the room was now bathed in a soft red glow from the swirling stone particles in the pod above it. Hot damn, Drakken! Shego cheered. Something you made finally works! Shego made a bee line for the platform without a second thought or so much as look backwards.
Shego! Drakken called out, almost rising to his feet again, but remembered himself at the last moment and sat back down.
Shego’s hand was already in the handle that would open the glass tube. What? she snarled over her shoulder. There wasn’t time for this!
I can’t promise you what will happen once you close that door. The Tempus Simia was never meant to work this way, the effect its energy could have on your body and mind —
We’ve been over this! said Shego, cutting him off. This is the only way, Dr. D! I have to fix it!
Drakken waved her words aside with frantic gesture of his hand. Yes, yes! What I mean is there no way of knowing if you memory will be affected if its exposed to the naked energy of the time stream! Tell yourself whatever you have to keep it from happening, but keep it simple! Something you can remember, because urk!
Shego never saw him coming. One moment Drakken was siting there, warning her about time streams and memory and what-the-hell-ever else. The next, Stoppable was behind him, and the Lotus blade was protruding from Drakken’s chest, staining his lab coat in red blood.
Who was the genius who decided to teach this freak ninja skills? Shego wondered crazily.
Ron pulled the Lotus Blade free of the late Drew Lipsky, and turned his cold eyes to Shego. There you are, Shego. he said with a smile. A flick of the wrist snapped the Lotus blade up then down, and Drakken’s blood went flying from it to spray on the ground. I saved you for last on purpose, you know. Just made a kind of sense. You took everything form me when you killed her. I’m just returning the favor. The smile vanished, and his face darkened. I wont make the mistake of leaving you alive, however. The smile came back, but seemed wrong. Twisted. Insane. C’mon Shego! he called crazily, spittle flying from his mouth, stance lowered, Lotus Blade held high. Wont our battle be the bon-diggitiest?
Shego’s insides felt like water. But in the end, she smirked at Ron. Some other… time, she said simply, her snark but a mask over her terror. In one smooth move, she flung open the door to the glass tube, threw herself inside, and shut it behind her. The Platform of Regression activated at once, and the world around her fell away. She was able to see Ron’s face for about a second longer. It twisted in impotent anger, a scream a denial bursting free from his lips, then she saw nothing but light.
Don’t catch the kick, she told herself as the energy and light around her tore at her body, searing her clothes skin, muscles, bone, and mind. Don’t catch the kick. Don’t catch the kick. Don’t catch the kick, don’t catch the kick, don’tcatcthehekickdon’tcatcththekickdon’t
The mantra played out over and over in her mind, until the light and power of the time stream seared that away as well.
* * *
You know what I hate? Kim Possible asked Shego as they faced each other on the roof, the rain pouring down on them.
The fact that your date melted? Shego replied with smirk as she fell into a fighting stance.
No, Kim replied. You. With that she raised her leg for one final kick
Oh puh-lease, Shego thought. Could that have been any more telegraphed? Already her hands went up to catch the awkward kick, but then she froze. In her mind’s eyes, she saw what would happen. She would catch the kick, use its momentum to spin Possible around and send her flying… right of the edge of the building. Her grappling hook gun, wet from rain, would slip from her fingers. She wouldn’t have time to twits to a more suitable landing position maybe the fancy suit she was wearing would have saved her if she had, but she would land, several stories below, head first. Kim Possible would die. Her blood would be on Shego’s hands.
Like a divine commandant, a single sentence rang though her head:
Don’t catch the kick.
So, she didn’t.
The blow connected and it was Shego that was sent flying from the roof instead.
Funny, Shego thought in the instant infinity as she flew though the air. She didn’t feel angry, or confused, or even hurt from the kick. Instead she felt, well relieved.
Be seeing you soon, Kimmie, she surprised herself by thinking.
Then the world went white with electric pain. For a time, Shego thought nothing more.
Somewhere
Beyond the rain and autumn plains, the snow
That litters the countryside
I find a piece of you…
And somewhere
Beyond the hills, below the horizon sun
A life that has just begun
A life were meant to know…
-To Far Away Times, lyrics by Andrew Triplett
A/N: For those who have this story on their alert list: Yes I have changed the title, and here’s why:
In addition to the challenge on KP Slash Heaven, a lot of the inspiration for this story came from the video game Chrono Trigger, particularly the side quest where time travel is used to save one of your party members from a plotline death. I was simply going to name it ‘Chrono Trigger’ but when I decided to us the shattered remains of the Tempus Simia as the maguffin of choice, I opted to Latin-ize the title as well. However, it turns out there is no Latin equivalent to the words ‘chrono’ or ‘trigger’. So I used ‘time’ instead of ‘chrono’ (hence ‘tempus’) and chose as ‘initiate’ as a synonym for trigger. The translator I was using offered ‘profanus’ as being Latin for ‘trigger’. Given that it’s the root for the English word ‘profane’, I should have been more suspicious, but I was in hurry to post. Turns out that profanus is closer in meaning to the English word ‘uninitiated’, which totally changes the title of the story in a way I don’t care for. After further and more careful research, I have selected the word initium (meaning beginning, start, or commencement), as this far closer to the meaning behind the word ‘trigger’. I am much happier with that. Now, if I ever chose to write a followup, I’ll have a sound naming convention established. I’m thinking Tempus Crucis…