This little plot bunny came to my last night, inspired by the first chapter of Clive Cussler's autobiography. As a writer of established characters, there are sometimes things that I would really like to say to them.

I hope you enjoy it.

As usual, credit to Disney for what is theirs.


Kim and Ron walked into Bueno Nacho, holding hands and chatting about the events of their day. Each was filling in the other on the news of time spent apart. There weren't many of them, but they did have some separate classes, and those periods were torture to the young couple. Despite spending more time with each other than their own families, the teenage heroes dreaded that time when they had to say good night and part.

After ordering, they sat at their booth once more. Rufus went from tray to tray, nibbling on each meal. Every now and then, laughter would drift from that table, and fellow patrons would turn and smile. One in particular looked fondly at the trio.

A small, balding man with glasses and a mustache was sitting at a back table. He was observing the people around him and occasionally made notes on a clipboard on the table before him. The antics of the naked mole rat seemed to fascinate him. As Kim and Ron ate and talked, the man continued to write furiously on the paper in front of him.

The doors opened, and Felix and Monique came in, the young man pushing his wheelchair manually, rather than drain the batteries. The beautiful young woman dashed over to the table to speak with Kim. Felix ordered for both of them and used the robotics built into his chair to carry the trays over to where his friends sat. The din of conversation rose perceptibly in that area. The man in the back just smiled all the more, with an almost proprietary look. One page after another was quickly filled.

Wade Load made his own entrance to Bueno Nacho, getting a cherry soda at the counter. He too sauntered over to the now crowded table. Despite his younger age, he was immediately accepted into the group. It was rare to see him outside of the confines of his bedroom/computer lab. As the site manager and gadget wizard of Team Possible, he had made his own place in this company. All of them respected Wade. Monique was still a little upset with him after the Valentine's Day incident, but she had decided not to hold a grudge.

The balding man with the glasses looked at the table. Yes, just about everyone was here. Only one person was missing. When she arrived, it would be time. After the initial contact was made, there would be no turning back. This was the way things had to be, there was so much to be put onto the papers in front of him.

At last, Bonnie came into the fast food hangout. She slid a contemptuous look across the other teens and bought a salad. She sat at a table by herself, as far from the gaiety as possible.

The man stood up from his seat, and tucking the clipboard under an arm, he picked up a cane and walked over to the table of friends.

"I beg your pardon, ladies and gentlemen. I just wanted to come over and speak with you all. I have followed the adventures of Team Possible for quite some time now." He looked shyly down at his shoes. When he met their eyes again, he had regained some of his composure. "My name is Thomas, and I just wanted to thank you for being my inspiration."

Kim Possible tucked a loose strand of her long red hair behind her ear. She searched her memory, but could not place him among all of the people she had met in four years of rescues and espionage. Granted, that was a large number. Yet, there was something vaguely familiar about him at the same time, as if he had been in the background, unseen until now. "Do I know you, uh, Thomas?"

"No, but I have been there from your first missions, and even before. Your lives have consumed hours of my time." A somewhat embarrassed grin came over the man's face. "There are more of us out there than you know, eagerly awaiting the next chapter in your lives. At this place and time, you still have so much ahead of you. We have seen and chronicled all of it, in all of its possibilities." Thomas pointed to the clipboard that he carried.

"Each of you embodies the ideals that we, the Keepers of the Story would like to see in ourselves and our fellow man."

"Excuse me," Ron Stoppable interjected. "the 'Keepers of the Story'?" A puzzled look came over his normally cheerful face. "I don't get it. What story?"

By now all eyes were on the stranger. He wasn't very unusual. He stood five feet, three inches in height, had a short fringe of dark hair and wore a simple outfit of black slacks with a white golf shirt. His manner was rather shy, but there was a look of unending curiosity behind his eyes.

"It is your story, Mr. Stoppable. There are many of us out there who trade the tales of your adventures, loves, losses and victories. From your childhoods to the possible futures of you all, the basic themes of human life have been explored." Thomas favored Rufus with a special smile. "You have a special place in many of the chronicles. In them, you are understood, and your role is recognized by so many of us."

"I said that you idealized a lot of the virtues that we would like to see in ourselves. Felix, you represent the ability to rise above our problems to achieve our dreams, that what seems limiting to some is freedom to another." Kim blushed a little, remembering her initial reaction to Felix and his chair.

"Monique, you are pure drive and energy. When others start to lose momentum, you know what to say to build them up. You tend to speak your own language, but you come through crystal clear." The dark girl flashed her bright eyes at this stranger who paid her such compliments.

"Wade, you are the personification of genius, a university graduate at twelve. You are the oracle of Team Possible, with just the right piece of information at just the right time. The team does not function without you." The young boy squirmed in his seat.

"Rufus, you are proof positive that diamonds and dynamite come in small packages. In your short life, you have saved the world as surely as your human friends. When a job needs done, size is irrelevant. Courage and heart abound in you." Thomas reached into a pocket and produced a large chunk of swiss cheese. He presented it with a short bow.

"Ron, there are many facets to your personality. Kim is advertised as the girl who can do anything. You are the man who can be anything. You are friend, hero and partner. You go from comic relief to guardian spirit in a heartbeat. In time, you will be husband and lover." A bright red found its way to Ron's freckled face. "Where you wind up depends on which of us tells your story Ron, but you can write your own. A pure heart and deep devotion, that is the stuff legends are made of."

Thomas turned to Kim Possible. He looked deeply into her emerald green eyes. There was so much he would like to say to her, so many stories she had whispered into his ear at night when he should have been sleeping. "Kimberly Ann Possible, you are the driving spirit of our better angels. You chart a course of righteousness, always fighting the good fight for those who can't. For you, all things can and must be done, nothing can be allowed to stand in your path, not even yourself." He took her hand, realizing it was a bold gesture. "You are the heroine that the world needs, a person who will never turn her back on someone in need. You will always be the role model of what is best in each of us. We, the Keepers of the Story, thank you."

He let go of her hand, and turned to leave, when he recalled something very important. Bonnie was sitting sullenly at her table. She had listened to Thomas saying how great all of those other people were. She was known as the worst kind of person, the names she had been called hurt her like physical blows.

Thomas sat at her table, right next to the girl. He leaned his cane against a chair behind him. He took her hand and held it tightly when she would have pulled away. Hazel eyes met brown ones, and suddenly she felt the need to trust this man.

"Bonnie, your story has been told many times, and occasionally without kindness or understanding. Still, others of my kind know your true heart. You are a hurt and tormented soul, and sometimes lash out in all directions." Bonnie lowered her eyes in shame, but the chubby man put his fingers under her chin, turning her eyes back to his. "You are special, too, Bonnie. Your future doesn't have to be dark. In some of those stories, you are every bit the heroine that Kim is. Remember that, and take heart when your tale is written without sympathy."

With that, Thomas rose, took his cane and clipboard in hand, and left Bueno Nacho. He had done what he had come to do. He could tell his tales now with good will.