Author's Note: Hello all. This story is an idea that materialized from two of my current interests: the nostalgic re-watching of Kim Possible, and the unmitigated awesome that is Doctor Who. Please read and review. Any constructive criticisms that you can provide would be appreciated as well. Rating is subject to change.

Timeline: In the Whoniverse, this story takes place between Series 5 and Series 6 of the New Series. In the KP-universe, it takes place before 'So the Drama'.

Disclaimer: I do not own either Kim Possible or Doctor Who, don't I wish though. I also do not own Star Wars, which gets a brief reference below.

So without further ado here is…

The Possible Storm

Chapter One

A Mysterious Man


Dr. Ann Possible strode through the halls of Middleton Medical Center toward a newly admitted patient's room.

As a neurosurgeon she would normally only deal with patients postop, but the hospital was currently understaffed and the patient load was staggering.

It was for that reason that she really hated the flu scare. Every time the media made a big deal about an 'animal' flu people rushed to the nearest hospital in what could only be described as a mass hysteria. Even worse, was the fact that most of said 'animal' influenzas could only be contracted if you 'love' said 'animal' or fondled a dead one; this didn't seem to register to the media ratings masters or the people dumb enough to listen to them. Lunchtime didn't seem to halt the flow either, unfortunately.

She arrived at her patient's room and put on her best smile. No too hard to do considering that she was one of the friendliest doctors at the hospital, even if the flu crap annoyed her to no end.

She took a moment to take in her patient. Only a moment; she was quite good at taking things in quickly, which really helped with her surgeries.

Dark and full hair, an attractive face, hypnotizing green eyes, all worked to show that this man was very handsome.

He was wearing a checked dress shirt and what seemed to be, from what little she could see, black trousers and blue braces. The most distinctive, and in her opinion, unusual part of his outfit was a blue bow-tie. She also noticed a tweed jacket hung over a nearby chair.

She picked up the medical chart that was hooked at the end of his hospital bed and gave it a quick once over. She preferred to let the patient tell her what she needed to know instead of relying on the chart, mostly because she thought it was a good way to make them feel comfortable, but also to check for any glaring inconsistencies.

"So mister…" she started; attempting to get him to finish.

"Smith, John Smith," he held out his hand and flashed a charming smile, "pleasure to meet you doctor…"

"Possible, Doctor Ann Possible," she said, mimicking him, and shaking his outstretched hand. "It's a pleasure."

The first thing she noticed was his accent; from 'across the pond' they would say. But more importantly she noticed his energy. For someone admitted for severe stomach pains, he seemed rather unaffected. Also, the air, or aura, or something about him seemed off, yet compelling. And then there was his response.

"Doctor Ann Possible…," he looked especially full of energy at that point, but seemed to catch himself, "Are you famous by any chance?"

"Um, no, not really. At least not outside my field, but even then I wouldn't say famous." She paused to flip through the chart. "So, Mister Smith, you were admitted for acute stomach pains, correct?"

"I was?" he paused. "Ah yes, of course, really bad pains all over my stomach area and are you sure you are not famous, what year is this?"

She was a bit taken aback by the last question. "Are you okay, sir?"

"Of course I'm not, I'm in a hospital." His tone was a tad condescending.

"Sorry…" hell, she shouldn't be sorry, but a doctor has to be accommodating, "it's 2005."

"2005?" he looked off in thought. "Are you sure? Could of sworn I tried for 2012, or was it 11, no, maybe 2050?" he turned his attention back to her. "So 2005 you say? What country? City?"

Again she was taken aback, but once again she accommodated. "The United States. Middleton."

"Oh yes, that was on the hospital sign, who asked you about the city?" his look was slightly annoyed and accusatory of all things.

She was starting to feel a bit creeped out. "You did."

"No I didn't, I don't say things I don't mean, except when I do." He looked off for a bit before looking back at her and smiling once again. "So where were we then? Ah yes, stomach pains, terrible things those are."

"Um… are…," her professionalism was faltering. "Are you taking any medication or seeing a therapist?"

"Medication, no. At least I hope not, haven't made a habit about checking my drinks of late." Again, she was taken aback, "As for therapy, I have been involved in it. Not always as a patient, not always as a doctor. Freud was a good man, interesting therapist. Had a couple of sessions with him, not quite sure if it helped, don't really remember…" he trailed off.

She was almost ready to forgo professionalism to get him out of there because he seemed fine, she told herself. "Sir, you seem fine. Are you still in pain?"

"Pain?" he made a show of moving his hands over parts of his body, "Nope, no pain here." He jumped from the bed and hugged her. "You are a miracle worker doctor," he broke the embrace and situated his braces and pulled on his jacket. "Well then, I'll be off then. Good day."

She was stunned. It took a minute before she realized he was no longer there and she moved quickly out the door.

She looked around the halls of the hospital floor, but saw no trace of him.

She walked up to the nurses' station and addressed the Head Nurse. "Excuse me, Nurse Jacobs?"

Nurse Jacobs look up from the file she was perusing and smiled at her. "Dr. Possible, how can I help you?"

"Did you happen to see a man with a tweed jacket and a bow-tie pass by?"

"I did, actually. You just missed him."

Ann had the strange feeling that the information she had been given was bogus. "Who was he?"

"I believe his name was Smith and…," Jacobs took a sec, but then it popped back into her head. "Oh, right, he was hired to conduct a test of the local doctors and their bedside manner."

"That's ridiculous," Ann was starting to get disturbed now, "especially with this flu scare."

"I thought it was odd too, but he did have the proper identification."

"It could have been fake, It had to be fake." She was almost scared now.

"I checked, double and triple checked, showed it to other nurses who triple checked too," said Jacobs, "It was weird. It didn't make sense. But it was real."

Ann gave a heavy sigh. "Right. Thank you." She bid Nurse Jacobs farewell and headed to her office.

Being one of the world's leading neurosurgeons had its perks; an office was not really one. Sure, she could have requested one and gotten it without any real hassle, but she never wanted to possibly kick someone out of theirs.

In the end, she did kick someone out. She became Chief of Surgery at the Middleton Medical Center. The job came with higher pay, not that she needed or wanted it, and an office where she could be alone when needed.

She didn't use it much, so there wasn't much of a personal touch. She really preferred to be out helping wherever she could. Honestly, something about the office made her feel caged.

She fell into her chair behind her almost bare desk. Only a simple computer and phone on its surface.

She took time to gather her thoughts and consider her options before picking up the phone on her desk. She pressed a speed dial button and waited for an answer. It was picked up after the first ring.

"Hello, Wade? It's Kim's mom," she addressed the boy on the other side of the phone.

"Hey Mrs. Dr. Possible," the portly boy on the other side said, "What's wrong? You don't call un… huh I don't think you've ever called, actually."

"Sorry Wade, I could try to if you want."

Wade laughed. "You're Kim's mom; I don't expect you to, but thanks. So what's the problem?"

She sighed, trying to figure out where to start. "It's probably nothing, but there was a strange man at the hospital that I attended to. It seemed like it was just an overreaction to stomach pains, you wouldn't believe how often that happens." She let out a nervous chuckle, the man really unsettled her.

"So what did he do?"

"He said strange things and I just got a strange feeling that there was something just off about him. The Head Nurse said that he was making a bedside manner inspection and that he provided proper papers, but hospitals just don't do that."

"So you want me to check him out and see if there's anything to worry about?"

"Please and thank you." They both shared a small chuckle at the use of one of her daughter's catchphrases.

She told him all she knew about the man. "John Smith? Even if it isn't an alias, it'd probably be impossible to find him with what you've told me, but I do love a challenge. I'll see if I can find him on any security cameras."

"Thanks again Wade," she had a thought, "please don't tell Kimmie. I don't want her to worry."

"No problem."

She hung up and then did… nothing.


Kim Possible, teen hero, the girl who could do anything, was freaking out. Not because she was surrounded by robot bikers, not because a big guy with a mullet had his hands on a cylindrical case with some kind of blueprint, and not because her best friend since pre-K was knocked out on the other side of the room.

No, the reason she was freaking out was simple: Junior Prom was right around the corner.

Okay, so maybe Junior Prom isn't as big of a deal as Senior Prom, but it was still important. She was a cheerleader, the Head cheerleader, and she still didn't have a date.

Okay, maybe that wasn't the real issue, maybe it was more complex, maybe it was something she needed to talk about, but was too scared to.

Regardless, she was freaking, but she never showed it, not once.

The robot bikers were simple, almost stick figure-like, and were astride some kind of motorcycle; she didn't know enough about bikes to identify them beyond that. The wielded chains, pipes, and crowbars.

"Hey Red, I ain't got nothing against you, so why don't you just let me go, seriously," said the mullet man.

"Sorry to disappoint, Ed, but that fuel isn't leaving here," Kim said as she braced herself for the inevitable attack.

"Sorry to hear that Red, seriously. Get her boys."

The robots zoomed forward, weapons drawn. Kim ducked under the first wave of weapons, and flipped over the second. The third managed to score a hit; Kim had sidestepped a crowbar swing, but took a hit to the back from a chain. The blow knocked the wind out of her and she fell to her knees, gasping for air.

She managed to rise to her feet in time for a pipe to slam into her abdomen and send her to the ground once again. This time she landed on her back, which caused the earlier back injury to intensify.

Luck. Luck is what would kill Kim Possible. She wouldn't mind as much if say Shego were to finish her, okay not true, but Motor Ed, seriously? Motor Ed killing her, wrong on so many levels, wrongsick even. To make things worse, he was doing his stupid air guitar the whole time.

"Sorry Red, but I can't let you get in the way of vehicular awesomeness, yyyeaaahhh. Don't worry, I won't kill ya Red; just take you outta the game, seriously."

She closed her eyes and braced for the finishing blow.

"Well now, that doesn't seem very nice." Kim didn't recognize the voice. All she knew was that it sounded British.

"Who are you, seriously?"

Kim opened her eyes and looked in the direction of the voice. There stood a man in a tweed coat, and wearing a bow-tie.

"Oh, so you want an introduction then?"

"Yeah, ya bow-tie wearing pansy, seriously" laughed Ed.

"Hey, bowties are cool," said the man as he adjusted said bowtie. "As for who I am, well that's simple, at least I think, can't be too sure."

"Who the hell are you, seriously?"

The man smiled. "Hello then, I'm just a man passing through. And trust me when I say that you should run."

Ed laughed. He laughed and laughed. "You can't be serious, man. You don't sound like someone I'd run from, seriously."

"Maybe not to you, but that is neither here nor there. What is here or there is a mullety man who is given a choice: leave now or a certain man will have to stop him, seriously." The man mimicked Motor Ed.

Ed laughed again. "Take him down boys, seriously."

Kim was frantic. This guy was going to get himself killed. She willed her body to move. It took all her strength just to stand up. She fell back down; landing on her butt.

She looked at the man. "Run, you need to get out of here!"

"Too late Red," Ed laughed, "this guy is gonna hurt, seriously."

The bikers revved their engines and readied their weapons. The man was unfazed, not a hint of concern on his face.

The man pulled out a cylindrical device. It was like the handle of the weapons from those 'Star Something' movies Ron kept going on about. He held it outstretched and vertically, with the green bulb at the tip level with his eye.

The bikers charged.

The device sprang to life. Four claw-like prongs shifted up from the handle and surrounded the green bulb. Said bulb was now shining as brilliant green. But the most noticeable feature was the sound; a piercing whir.

Almost immediately, the bikers' heads exploded and their bodies and bikes crashed. The bikes all skidded toward the man, but every single one missed. He didn't even flinch.

"Well, that's that then. So surrender?"

Ed decided against that and charged at the man, attempting to use the cylindrical case as a makeshift club. Kim, not wanting to stay on the sidelines, delivered a flying kick to Ed's side before he reached the man. Ed went flying and the case left his hand, spinning in the air, before the man caught it.

Kim winced as she landed and started having a coughing fit. Motor Ed recovered and charged at her.

She heard the same whirring that the man's device made before the arm of one of the robot bikers reached out and tripped Motor Ed. Ed face-planted and was knocked out. And if the crunching noise was to be believed, he also broke his nose.

Kim turned to the man after catching her breath. "Thank you for…" She trailed off when she saw, not the man, but the top secret blueprint, unfurled and being examined by him. "Sir, please hand me the blueprint it's not yours."

The man didn't even seem to hear her.

"Sir, hand over the blueprint, please." She was battered, tired, and annoyed. And it was starting to show in her tone.

"Now this is brilliant," he didn't seem to hear her again, "blueprints for the use of antimatter in rocket engines." He pulled the blueprint down from his face and flashed a big grin. "Middleton of 2005, two years before the first successful use of antimatter for space fuel applications." He seemed like a giddy school kid. "These blueprints pioneered the first starships; oh this is… something you should not be hearing."

He quickly rolled up the blueprint and put it back in its case. "Forget everything I just said." The man then tossed her the case. "Also, you might want to get fixed up a bit." He turned and started walking away.

"Hey wait!" Kim shouted to get his attention. The man kept on walking and Kim couldn't catch him in her condition.

She heard footsteps coming from some distance past the main door to the lab. Global Justice back up probably. Wait for her to do all the work, so the GJ agents could clean up without any risk to themselves.

She didn't mind it that much until now. Despite what Motor Ed said, she could have and would have died if they didn't come in time. So it made sense that she was a little bitter at the moment.

But the sound of footsteps didn't keep her attention long. Instead, another sound managed to attract her attention.

Vworp!

Vworp!

Vworp!

Vworp!


"I don't know KP; I think I would remember something like that," said Ron Stoppable; Kim's best friend since pre-K and sidekick in the hero business.

"You were unconscious," Kim glared at him. She closed her locker door and then turned to her other friend. "You believe me, right, Monique?"

"Girl, we've seen some crazy stuff, and trust me that is not the strangest story I've heard you tell," said Monique; Kim's best girl friend and occasional fill-in sidekick.

There was a movement in Ron's pants pocket and a little pink head poked out. A hairless rodent emerged from the pocket and crawled up to his shoulder. Rufus was Ron's pet naked mole-rat and best friend.

"You saw it too, didn't you Rufus?" Kim asked.

"Uh huh, uh huh," squeaked Rufus, while nodding his head. Kim shot Ron a triumphant glance and smirk.

The trio started walking to class.

"So KP, you tell Wade yet," asked Ron.

"Not yet. I wanted to run it by you guys first to, you know, go over things and talk it out," Kim said, "But I do plan to talk to him during lunch; maybe see if he can dig anything up."

They arrived at their class and moved to their seats. They sat next to each other: Kim in the middle, Ron on her left, and Monique on her right.

The whole class, including the trio, were talking about all sorts of things. It was to the point that it blended into one long droning noise.

The class door opened and in stepped a large man with a crew cut and a brown suit.

"All right everyone, LISTEN UP!" Mr. Barkin yelled as he slammed his hands on the teacher's desk.

The room went silent.

"Now then," he attempted to start.

"Aww, you're not taking over this class too are you?" Ron whined.

Mr. Steve Barkin ended up teaching most of the classes in the school. Every so often a teacher would leave or become incapacitated and Barkin would usually substitute. It had come to the point where students weren't sure if he did anything other than sub.

"I said listen up," Barkin said more calmly than before. "And no I'm not. The school board decided to add a special sauce to the cafeteria's mystery meat. Unfortunately, Ms. Daniels was the first, and only, one to test it."

Every student in the class flinched.

"We have no idea when she may be back, but we have managed to find a substitute more than qualified to take her place for now." Barkin turned to the open door. "You can come in now."

Kim's jaw dropped.

The substitute was the mystery man that saved her life.

He was dressed almost exactly the same as before, except for a blue dress shirt and burgundy braces and bow-tie. The jacket was noticeably the same.

"Well then, I'll leave them in your care," said Barkin. He moved passed the man and whispered something in his ear before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

"Well alright then," the man turned toward the class. "I'll be your new… what class is this?"

The students were confused by this and just stared at him.

"What?" the man gave himself a once over. "There isn't a stain on me anywhere is there? I should really wear an apron or something when doing repairs." He looked at the class. "No? Well then what's wrong?"

Ron was the first to speak. "Uh well… This is English-"

"Of course it is," the man interrupted, "who asked you? What's your name? Not important now, I have time to learn all your names. Or do I?"

The class was once again struck silent by the display.

"Well then," he sat down at the teacher's desk and propped his legs on top of it. "I am the Doctor and I'll be your new teacher."


And there it is. I hope you enjoyed it so far and I look forward to your reviews. I would also like to say that I will do my best to fit this story into Doctor Who canon, but I will not follow KP canon. Remember, the Doctor does this stuff all the time. Kim and co., on the other hand, don't normally have a madman with a box pop up and mess around with their lives.

Once again, please review and thank you for reading.