The tires' drone on the smooth road was mind-numbing and the truck's odd rocking motion was marginally more sleep-inducing than nauseating. Still, Kim was having considerably more trouble keeping her dinner on the inside than she was keeping her eyes open. She looked at both of her sleeping companions, envying them for being able to catch a few winks.

After leaving Francois' shop, the trio had gone on another confusing tour of the Parisian public transportation system. They had only made one stop of any note, a break to get a solid meal and purchase a couple of maps, then it was off again. Jason led them northeast, until they reached the transit system's limits. By then, they were on the city's outskirts and near the suburbs. Also, the constant walking had caused Kim's injuries to flare up. She had been pleasantly surprised when Jason slowed the pace, allowing her to grit her teeth and avoid obvious limping. Once they reached the end of the last bus's route, Jason seemed at a loss for what to do next.

Much to Kim's surprise, Marie came up with the next plan of action. With a vagabond's instinct for such things, the young woman led them to a sort of truck stop, a place where overnight drivers gathered to share conversation, strong coffee, and perhaps some more frowned-upon stimulants before climbing behind the wheels. The trio observed the parking lot for roughly a quarter-hour, matching drivers with vehicles. Once they were comfortable they could recognize a dozen drivers, and pick out their trucks, they went into the establishment.

The atmosphere was suspicious, but not hostile. While the truck drivers tended to be more comfortable around their own, they didn't mind the trio who slipped in, ordered some coffee, and then kept to themselves. After a few minutes, Marie stepped up again, unleashing her bohemian charm. With a masterful mixture of flirt, damsel in distress, and friendly stranger, she got the truckers to describe their destinations and difficulties. Somehow, her halting French made the hardened drivers even more willing to talk. In Kim's opinion, the truckers were soon providing more information than the three fugitives really wanted to hear. The trio simply nodded and acted like they were interested. Before long, they had identified a driver who was both heading in the right direction and driving a vehicle with an enclosed cargo area. The three Americans thanked the drivers for their hospitality, exited the building, picked the lock to the proper truck's cargo compartment and slipped inside.

Before long, they heard the driver's door open and close, the engine revved into life and they were off. While the driver wouldn't take them all the way to Nice, he would get them better than half the way there. Kim had been a little concerned about being caught once they got to their destination but Marie had waved off her concerns. In all likelihood, the trucker would stop for some more 'refreshment' before delivering his load, which would allow them to slip out of the cargo compartment with nobody the wiser. If not, the drivers and cargo handlers who worked nights would be more than willing to forget they saw the stowaways…for a few Euros. Kim decided that there was no use arguing and worrying, she would simply have to deal with whatever happened. In her opinion, the fact that they were now on a nameless truck made it very likely that they had thrown any potential trackers off of their trail.

Soon the long, stressful day began to wear on both Marie and Ron. Kim was in far too much pain to be able to sleep, so she offered to keep watch while the other two rested.

"I know you're not used to trusting anybody," she told Ron. "But like it or not, my fate is tied up with yours. I can't sell you out without selling myself out, as well. Now, I'm hurting too much to sleep so I'll stay awake and wake the two of you up if anything happens. If we stop for some reason, we need to be ready to act fast. I know that you didn't get any sleep last night and Marie isn't used to the stress we've been through the last couple of days. Since I'm not going to be able to sleep, you two might as well."

Marie had quickly agreed with Kim's logic, made herself as comfortable as possible on the cardboard shipping containers and drifted away almost immediately. Ron had seemed ready to argue, or at least fight off slumber. Finally, he nodded his agreement and settled himself, as well. Kim had no doubt that he faked sleep for at least several minutes, observing her. Finally, the sandman wouldn't be denied any longer and the exhausted man submitted to his relentless assault.

This, of course, left Kim alone with her own thoughts for several, long hours. When she had taken on this mission to rescue her lost soul mate, she had expected deception, danger, violence and exhaustion. What she had never expected was that Ron wouldn't want to go back to being…Ron. Somehow, she had always known that if she ever found him, he would immediately go back to being her boyfriend and best friend and with their more adult age, quickly move on to more adult things. For the first time in her life, Kim found herself wondering what Ron must have really gone through as her lifelong companion.

Sure, she had gotten a glimpse of his life when they had swapped bodies for a couple of days. At the time, she realized what he was going through as a high school geek and loser. Now, however, she recalled his earlier conversation with Marie, in which he described…Ron. Kim forced herself to shelve both vanity and modesty and look at their high school glory years through a stranger's perspective. She didn't exactly like what she came up with.

First of all, he claimed that he had been, how he put it, a joke. This wasn't exactly true but it would be easy for an outsider, as in everyone outside their very small, close group of friends, to make that assumption. It wasn't that Ron had been exceedingly clumsy or thickheaded, it had been that he had found himself, over and over, in situations that ninety-nine point nine percent of the human population wasn't physically or mentally equipped to handle. Kim was one of the world's physical elite, capable of handling those extreme situations so when they arose, she shone. Ron, despite the fact that he really had no business in such situations, plodded along. The fact was that if the general population had seen just him performing those extreme actions, they would have applauded him. Instead, she outshone him with her grace and flair, making him look clumsy. As a result, he was the comic relief.

The biggest problem he had had back then was that everyone compared him to her. All modesty aside, he just couldn't shine in that kind of a spotlight. In the rare instances that he had stepped away from her, like when he quit the cheerleading squad to join the football team, he had shone. Kim had been blessed with stunning looks, athleticism and a quick mind. Ron had had none of these things going for him. Ron had possessed determination, loyalty and an open mind, ready to forgive and/or befriend pretty much anybody. An outsider, even a relatively close outsider like Tara or Josh, just couldn't see his value. To Kim's shame, she realized that she hadn't been able to see his value, at least for the longest time, either.

She had come close to figuring it all out after the junior prom incident. She had been both flattered and stunned to realize that he had a romantic interest in her. The next few months had been the happiest of her life, exploring the boundaries of their new feelings while still being the carefree teenager. Yet, at the end of the day, the relationship had been all about her. When she wasn't satisfied with their low-income dates, he went out and got a job. When he got the impression (false, but he had believed it) that she wanted a jock, he made himself a jock. While she had been more than a little irritated at the time, more for him sneaking into her closet than anything else, she had to admit that she had been flattered by the lengths to which he would go for her. Then again, that was typical Ron when it came to things that mattered most to him, always pouring 150% of himself into it.

She suspected that this was what had injured her the most about the confession she had overheard through the bathroom door. It never occurred to her that once he was confronted with the truth of who he truly was that he would chose to reject exactly what she had found the most endearing. For him to dismiss the opportunity to become someone so wonderful, in favor of embracing someone so dark, had been too much for her heart and ears to take.

Ron was the yardstick by which she measured all of the other men in her life; from her own father to the various boyfriends she had temporarily claimed, after believing he was no more. For him to be repelled by the very man she longed for, by what she treasured and loved in life, was like a slap in her face. How could she not react as she had? How could she not want to try and force him to believe that 'Ron Stoppable' was not some abject loser? How could she not try to show that he mattered; that he was someone who should not be abandoned? Showing him, in any way she could, that this 'loser' was someone she desperately loved had been an absolute necessity.

While she wasn't ashamed to let him know she loved him, she had to admit that the way she had gone about it had made her look like a horny fool. Trying to force a passionate kiss on him was probably one of her biggest mistakes thus far on this mission. It certainly damaged all credibility she had with Marie and that was a headache that wasn't going to go away anytime soon. Why couldn't her life be simple and normal? Why couldn't she have just been the average, everyday teenage girl she had always told the media?

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Kim turned to see Ron sitting by her side with a half-turned smile, amused at her startled expression. Instinctively she looked down at her watch and saw that an hour had passed since the man had fallen asleep, leaving her to her lonely role as sentry.

"H-how did you?"

"It looked as though your mind was somewhere else, so I took advantage of your distraction and came and sat down besides you, been sitting here all of five minutes, waiting for you to notice. I don't know if it was my ego or my growing boredom, but I had to say something or I would have burst."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, really. Look, why don't you go take my place over by Marie and I'll cover your shift? What good is a guard if she's unable to focus on the job? Get some rest, Kim. You'll feel a lot better for it."

Kim looked at Ron for a moment, studying him. With a sigh she turned her face away and shook her head in the negative. "No. I don't need your charity, besides my ribs still hurt from where that jerk hit me the other day. The waterbed at 'Hotel La Desperate' was good enough because the mattress molded itself to my body but the back of this rig? Sorry, Ron but I don't think I would be too comfortable."

"Understanible. But you can at least close your eyes and rest a little. No one will think worse of you for doing so. I certainly won't. You need to take breaks from time-to-time, otherwise you're no good to anyone, especially yourself."

"Y'know, that advise could also easily apply to you as well. By my calculations I think you've had less snooze time then me."

The Assassin shrugged his shoulders to the statement. "Blame, Treadstone. I think they've fixed it so I don't sleep long. I kinda do micro-naps. I think my body has been conditioned to the point I can have a dozen or so deep sleeps throughout the day to supplement one solid sleep. I suppose it makes sense if I'm a killer, I always have to be alert and flexible to a target's comings and goings. Being able to bed down for a thirty minute kip of deep rems would ensure I stay on top of my game without compromising whatever mission I have been assigned too."

Ron undid the top two buttons of his shirt and pulled it out from his pants, loosening his garments up a portion he then looked at Kim through the darkness and instructed her in a firm voice. "I let you take Sentry because I didn't want to embarrass you in front of Marie, but I think I'm better trained and prepared for this then you. You've only been on the job for an hour and you're letting your mind wander. That could be a problem, Kim. Take this opportunity I'm offering you and get some sleep, you might not get the chance later."

"I said I can do this, Ron." The words left her mouth a little more harshly then she had wanted them too. She wanted to sound confident and assertive; instead she came off sounding snappish and bad-tempered. Anxious to change the negative mood she had errantly created, the former adventurer decided to change the topic rather than offer a weak apology. "It's kinda funny, in our Team Possible days, I could go up to thirty hours straight without having to rest or take a break of any kind. So logically, if I could do it then, I can certainly do a several hour stint now. Generally…and when I say 'generally' what I really mean is 'always', you were the one fighting to keep his eyes open."

"Me?"

A slight giggle emerged through Kim's mouth as she recalled teenaged Ron snoozing with his mouth slightly open and a trickle of drool on the side. "Yeah. It was really amazing. You could sleep anywhere, even standing up. I remember one mission when you actually fell asleep while we were scaling up the side of Dementor's Mountain Fortress. If we hadn't been tethered together, well, let's just say you would have come to a squishy end. It certainly made climbing up that last 100 yards a bit of a challenge, I can tell you."

"Hang on are you saying you carried my dead-weight up the side of a mountain?"

"Well to be fair, I was a lot fitter back then and as for the dead-weight? One, you were a lot smaller back in the day, less muscle mass. You were probably only ten or so kilograms heavier than me and two, when you're a cheerleader you get used to being able to support a decent amount of free-load. Heck, I used to be able to hold, steady mind you, two teenaged girls on my shoulders, when I was a pyramid's foundation. Carrying you really wasn't much of a 'big'."

"Still, it would have tired you out and could have compromised your mission. Why didn't you wake me?"

"You were always a bit of a deep sleeper and that mission was all about stealth. It was a get-in-and-get-out-caper, with the baddie not knowing we were even there type of deal. To have woken you meant I would have had to have shouted up a storm over the wind in order to get you to even open up an eye and knowing you back then, if you woke up and saw a 500-yard plunge directly below, you would have panicked like there was no tomorrow and may have given us both away. It was better, if not easier, to just let you rest and take the extra burden."

"Either that or you could have severed the line joining me to you. Anyone who cannot hold their own on an assignment is a liability. I wouldn't have blamed you if you had just cut your losses, literally. It would have been the smart thing to do."

"That's not something I even considered," Kim snarled back, in a hushed growl. "If you're trying to make a joke, you're not doing a very good job of it. If I had ever believed that, I never would have become a heroine. If you had ever believed that, you never would have helped me. That last statement wasn't you, it was pure Treadstone propaganda, not the Ron Stoppable I know and love. People matter, Ron and for more than what they can provide at any given moment. You don't just cut your losses with them because they inconvenience you. You endure, you adapt, you find alternatives but you never give up on people."

A small smile formed on the assassin's face. "Amazing. You really believe that don't you?"

"I KNOW it, Ron, because you made me a believer. For as long as I had known you, Ron, you always had a bit of a raw deal by being my companion but you never complained about it. You were hardly graceful, you had the attention span of a fruit fly and you allowed other people to pick on you and insult you when you did nothing to deserve it. Add to this, you were scared of nearly every little thing imaginable. Heck, a shrink could have made a fortune out of curing you of all your assorted phobias, if he could. Despite all the crap you took, all the crap you knew you would continue to take, you still walked around with a big, 'life is great' smile on your face. You never gave up on people, myself included, no matter how inconsiderate and rotten they were to you. Heck, you used to actually try harder whenever someone was mean to you. You would see it as a challenge to try and win them over. The harder things were, the more determined you became and you would keep doing it all with that amazing 'ain't life grand' attitude. If you could endure and persist then what kind of friend would I be if I didn't return the gesture, no matter what the odds?"

The CIA's number one killer pondered her words for a brief second before he responded. "Maybe, just maybe, I went around with a 'life was good' grin on my face because I had Kim Possible as my best friend. Did you ever think of that? I really don't think you should give me credit, especially when it's not due."

Kim couldn't help but blush at the compliment but quickly decided to compose herself. She had made the decision to be more like her 'old self' in Ron's presence and her 'old self' always downplayed this compliment. Deep inside, however, her heart was doing flip-flops.

Ron stared vacantly ahead, as though processing her silence. "I haven't been very generous towards you, have I?"

"What do you mean?"

"The way I've been acting towards you. The way that I have been avoiding you. It must have made you feel very isolated and underappreciated. I didn't really understand how you must have been feeling about me, about us, about everything we're going through until that speech you gave Marie and I the other morning. Marie has been telling me that I was being too paranoid, that I should give you a chance. She's been telling me to let you in but I've been resisting. I'm very sorry."

"It's okay, I understand, really. I popped out of nowhere sprouting a history that you had no way of confirming. Trusting me would have been difficult, if not downright stupid. What I went through, what I'm going through right now, is minor compared to what happened to you. At least I know why I'm in this situation right now. You? All you have are stories that complete strangers are telling you and the sure knowledge that believing the wrong story will cost you your life."

"Yeah, trust and danger were a part of it but unfortunately, they aren't all of it. While it's true that I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the most part, Kim, at the heart of the matter, what's really eating away at me is that I don't know why I have no memory of you. I don't have even as much as a fragment. Sure my memory is like Swiss cheese, okay, that's not quite right. Swiss cheese is cheese with some holes. My memory is one big hole with a little cheese around it but I can, at times, catch glimpses of my former life. Sure, they're just ghostly images and I can't quite make sense of them but with you? The harder I try to focus on you the harder it is for me to grab hold of something tangible. It's like trying to strangle smoke. Mix this with my 'gut' telling me to be cautious of you and well; you have a pretty mistrustful and arkwierd combination."

The former redhead bit her lower lip to suppress the small smile from spreading across her features. The term 'arkwierd' glowed inside of her mind and her heart felt lighter for having heard it.

"I remember those other girls, vaguely to be sure, but I remember them. You…nothing. Why is that?

Kim angled her head away and considered what she should do. Did she dare reveal what she had learned from Dr. Director? She hated that she was keeping secrets from Ron but she wasn't sure how he would react to what she had to say. Would the fact that her own letter, innocent enough and an effort to help him, had placed him in Treadstone's hands be enough to shatter this fragile understanding they were forging? Kim decided that she had to establish the two of them as friends before that kind of confession could muddy the water even further. Cautiously she inhaled a breath and exhaled a sigh of surrender, deciding to extend on the seed of doubt planted by Marie the day earlier. "Maybe what you feel, your 'block' of me isn't your doing, Ron. Don't you think it's suspicious why it only appears to be me that you have built this 'wall' around?"

"Meaning?" The word exited Ron's mouth dryly, he knew very well what Kim was leading up too as his other female companion had said and implied the same the following morning.

Kim ignored the flat and arid response, Marie had paved the way it was now up to her to lead him more purposefully down the path. "Meaning, Ron, that you were the victim of intense, calculated manipulation. Repeated manipulations, if I understand the situation. Treadstone warped you in body, spirit, heart and mind. Back when you first vanished, I was still a celebrity and still had most of my supporting staff in place. It's very likely that Treadstone thought it feasible that I would eventually track you down. Or once when you had finished their training that you might seek me out to continue on with our relationship. If this were the case, they would want you to have this…animosity…so you wouldn't be tempted to return to your old life."

Emboldened by her explanation's logic, Kim continued, hoping that she was proving more successful than her counterpart in swaying Ron to a more benign line of thought. Offering Ron just enough truth of what had really happened without compromising her role in it.

"Maybe you should be looking at them, not me, for the explanation. As much as you want to believe that you were a low-tiered loser, as much as it might look that way from your occasional memory flashes, you had friends and family that were desperate to have you back. We still are. Treadstone had to know this, Ron! They had to know that I would do anything to get you back and return you to those who love you. If that happened, they would suddenly be short one capable assassin. Knowing this, doesn't it make sense that they would want you to distrust me?"

Kim blew a stray hair away from her forehead as she laid out the mental breadcrumbs, a small smidgen of pride enveloping her at the concise argument she had presented. After allowing the logic she had just offered a short time to sink in, Kim pressed her verbal offensive to try the take advantage with sentimentality and emotion.

"I know how much I loved you, Ron, and I know that you returned my affection. I can't imagine any other two people loving each other as much as we did. You were my whole world, Ron. If what happened to you had happened to me, if someone had tricked me into believing that I would have to live the rest of my life without you, I would have laid down and died. In fact, it did kill me. I stopped really living the moment I truly started to believe that I had lost you."

The female slowly placed her cold, trembling hand over the strong, masculine one to help cement her presence to amnesiac assassin. "When I eventually accepted that you were … 'dead', I just wanted to dig a pit six-foot deep, climb in and join you. If it wasn't for my friends and family, even YOUR family, Ron, and sweet little Hanna, I would have done just that. I babysat her every chance I got. She helped keep me sane and on the straight and narrow, distracted from the misery I was feeling. I saw so much of you in her, she helped keep my heart open to possibilities and I wanted to watch her grow to become the best Hanna Stoppable she could be. She and everybody else helped convinced me to keep living and that you wouldn't want me to join you in whatever 'afterlife' exists until I had reached a ripe old age."

A smirk raised itself on the male's lips as he repeated what she had said a moment earlier. "Endure, find alternatives, but never give up, huh?"

A small smile consumed Kim's face as she heard him repeat her earlier words. "Pretty much. Look, Ron, doubt everything. Doubt that the sky is blue or that water is wet but if there is one thing you should never ever, ever doubt it's that I love you with all of my heart. Understand this as well, Treadstone ruined not only your life but it also ruined mine when they took you from me."

"You really hate them, don't you?"

This question confused the former redhead. "What do you mean?"

"I mean Treadstone; you really hate them, don't you."

"Yes. Don't you?"

Ron offered the now dyed brunette a lonely shrug. "I have cause, no denying that. I should hate them with every fiber of my being and I do but it's a contained hatred. It's a hatred that I am able to control and release, which is pretty scary if I'm honest. Treadstone damned my soul, Kim and the blood that I willingly spilled in their cause will never be washed from my hands. But for some strange reason the how, what, where and when isn't what's troubling me. What won't let me rest or relax is the simple question of 'Why'?

"For whatever the motivation, it was I who ultimately chose to disconnect with my friends and family and it was me who submitted to their perverse training to becoming a killer. Sure, maybe they did manipulate me, but that doesn't mean they forced me. If they forced me, how could they guarantee that I would be a willing participant and puppet to their 'Program of Murder'? There must have been a time during my initiation into their demented venture when they said or did something to me and whatever it was it must have struck a cord. Somehow it must have appealed to me, otherwise they would not have been certain of my cooperation, I would have resisted and then what would have been the point of the training?

"To be manipulated there must be a part of you, big or small, that allows you to BE manipulated. So I ask you, at what point during my progression from loser to master assassin did I step back from everything that I once was and say to myself, 'Yeah, this is what I want to be now'. What could have made me want to damn my soul? The truth is Kim, the guy you described the other night, 'Ron Stoppable', he would have lacked the stomach to off a fly yet I, the Jason Bourne part of me, can probably kill a person with a paperclip and a post-it note. How did a transformation like that happen unless I was consciously willing to let it happen? What does that say about me as a person?"

Kim remained silent as the sound of the wheels running along bitumen echoed in her ears. She was hoping to snare the CIA with a few clever and well placed words but instead all she did was inadvertently dig a hole deeper for herself. There was no way she could answer this question without implicating herself as the cause, as it was her own purloined letter to Dr. Director several years earlier that had been used to convince Ron that she had wanted him to participate in the Treadstone Project. It was her own written word that had Ron give himself over to these faceless bastards and made him endure their treatment and their brainwashing.

Ron slipped his hand out of her grasp, studying both his palms in the near darkness, opening and closing his fists. "I've taken lives, Kim, I have soaked these hands in too much blood and I can never make up for that. Sure, some of them may not have been innocent targets, hell; they may have all been as guilty as sin of something worth their deaths. But who am I to judge? I might not be able to sway policy or agendas but, as I am speaking to you right now, I can sure as hell bring these people into the light."

Despite herself, Kim, found her lips spread into another small smile. Ron, unknowingly had just mirrored her earlier threat to his 'Handler'.

"And then, when I have exposed them and the evil they have done, I'm going to take the training they've poured into me and I am going to end their lives. Every last one of them."

At these words the smile that she was fighting hard to conceal disappeared. "You … you can't be serious. Ron, you're talking about murder…pre-meditated murder."

"No Kim, I'm talking about revenge. I'm talking about justice. These people make a simple phone call and the subject of that call ends up dead. They have to be accountable for what they have done."

"What they've done, or what they made you do? We're moving into scary territory here, Ron. If you're seeking my support for you to go on a killing-spree then I'm telling you here and now, you don't have it. In fact you have the opposite of it. Yes, I hate these people. Yes, I think they deserve to reap what they have sown. Yes, I want to make sure another Treadstone never happens again. But NO I will not stand aside and let you commit cold-blooded murder just to appease your own guilty conscience. That's why you want to do it, isn't it Ron. You think doing this will cleanse your soul for what you have done? By taking retribution on them you might make some kind of amends."

The silence that welcomed Kim's ears was enough to tell her that she was right. "Ron, I wish I didn't have to say this but you will have to live with what you do next. You can't cancel out one sin by committing another."

"I can't just bury my head in the sand, Kim, and let them get away with it."

"I'm not saying that you should. But there is a right way and a wrong way. Plotting to kill makes you more like 'them', not you. Can't you understand? If you start masterminding the murder of people who have done you wrong, then how are you any different then the ones who wronged you?"

"Maybe, I am no different."

"No, you're wrong and I will shout that from the highest point on Earth if I have too. What was done to you was criminal, but you can change that now. They no longer have you on their leash. You can think for yourself and make your own path. You aren't on auto pilot to murder, not anymore."

"If Treadstone ordered me to kill, at conservative figure of one person every two months, just one. Do the math, Kim. How long has it been since you last saw me, six years? Seven? That's shy of forty people, Kim. I've killed forty people at the very least! Why don't I feel a twinge of remorse or guilt? You'd think I'd feel something. I mean I feel sad, I feel angry, I feel hatred, I feel every negative emotion you can imagine. But I don't feel repentance or shame over what I have done. I can regret, but I don't feel guilty. Why is that? A part of me is evil now and I can't change what I have become."

"Stop saying that, Ron. You're a sweet, caring and loving person."

The amnesiac assassin looked over his shoulder to the sleeping form of Marie and lowered his voice. "Kim, I understand why you are desperately clinging to the memory of your childhood friend but I'm not him and the truth is that I doubt I can ever be him again."

"So what does that mean? You just give up trying?"

"Giving up is a far cry from accepting what you can't change. I am what I am, Kim. I've gone through things that have changed me. You can't change me back any more than you can build a time machine and prevent what has already happened. You have to accept that I'm not the Ron Stoppable of your youth you'll just wind up knocking your head against the same brick wall over and over again."

"Well, I don't accept that. There's always redemption. If I thought the same as you do now I never would have gotten into the hero biz and done the things I did."

"Kim, when I slashed at Franscious with his own scissors and he was bleeding in front of me, do you know what my most prominent thought was? It was 'I better give him a towel to cover his wound so that he doesn't get any blood on me.' THAT'S WHAT I WAS THINKING, Kim. I mutilated and maimed a man but the only thing I was thinking about was how it would impact on me, like some … some sociopath. Can't you see? I'm broken inside. I don't feel what you feel, I don't think what you think and it worries me that you believe I can be redeemed when it is pretty clear to me that I can't.

"Before Franscious, I was telling myself that Treadstone trained me to always survive. Now I'm starting to think that they trained me to always accomplish the mission, to always be able to dig deep and do anything and everything I need in order to execute their orders."

Kim turned her head away from Ron so he couldn't see the tears that were about to roll down her cheek.

Ron leaned further towards the Goth. "I'm not trying to hurt you Kim."

"Really? Cause you seem to be doing a pretty decent job of it so far."

"I'm just trying to make you realize that this is who I am now. Ron Stoppable is just another name I've used in the past. Like the several different passports I have in my bag and I'm afraid that if you cling to the misguided belief that I can go back to being the person you once knew that it might impair your judgement and put yourself in a position that could get you killed."

"I can take care of myself, Ron."

"Really? Because I seem to remember you jumping into something earlier that you weren't prepared for. You went all gung-ho, falling back into past habits and what happened with that Kim? What happened when you tried to take on what's-his-name? 'Choirboy'. What happened, Kim?"

Silence was his lonely reply. Ron released a sigh, knowing that his point had been painfully made.

"The guy was a ruthless killer, Kim and you didn't last more than two seconds before he had you on the ground just waiting for the finishing shot. You have to understand, Kim that these people, that Treadstone, does not waste their breath with monologues on how superior they are, they'll just put a bullet in your brain."

"Okay, you've made your point, not that you needed too. I know exactly what I'm dealing with here, Ron and I know exactly what it is I'm facing."

"I don't think you do. I think you're still hoping to get your 'old boyfriend' back. So whether or not you're offended by me saying it yet again that's a damn stupid idea. The last thing I want, and that you and Marie need, is 'Ron Stoppable' with you at this time."

Kim turned her head to face the assassin once more and made sure her eyes penetrated his. She would happily put up with his insults upon her, but upon the boy, no, the man she still loved with all her heart, she would not permit. Even if those insults were by and about himself.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, Ron Stoppable had a tendency to surprise people, even himself."

"Regardless of what you believe*"

"*NO! Listen to me, I can count on one hand the number of times Ron let me down and still have three fingers left over. You think because I got the press that Ron's contributions were insignificant? Well let me put the record straight, again. They weren't!"

"Fine."

"No, not 'fine'. You say that word like you understand. But I don't think you do, not really. Every time Ron … you, went solo or went on a mission without me, he rocked and he rocked loud like a stadium concert with the 'Rolling Stones' loud. As for me? Complete opposite, Ron. Whenever I tried to go it independent or with Wade, I always ended up being captured and in need of rescuing. Ron Stoppable was as consistent as he was rock solid. When he said he had my back, he meant it. When Ron was at my side, my little catch phrase 'I can do anything' was a promise not a boast."

The man known to the shadow world as Jason Bourne peered once more through the dark to his hands as they flexed before him. "Well, thanks for that little bit of personal promotion, Kim. But it doesn't change things. We need my Bourne experiences more then we need Stoppable's. So I'm asking you, for everyone involved, to separate yourself from the nostalgia, because it's not helping anyone. I also need your guarantee that if push came to shove, that you will make Marie's safety your first priority, your own second and mine third. From now on, you have to take responsibility for her and yourself, even if it goes against every fiber of your being and tests your resolve to the breaking point. From now on Kim, your choices are no longer clouded. Do you understand what I'm asking of you?"

Kim looked past Ron's hunched shoulders and spied her sleeping rival. All she could do was growl out a reply, feeling another small wave of jealousy, at Ron placing Marie's safety above all else, wash over her. "Sure I understand. You're telling me that if it all hits the fan, toss you aside without a second thought."

"That's right. That's what I'm asking."

"She's a grown woman, Ron, she can look after herself. Besides, she made the choice to be here against both yours and my recommendation. She understood the risks."

"Understanding risks and being able to cope with them are two entirely different things. Look, I've seen both of you girls in action and seen how you both deal with the pressures. She's a contemplator and you? You're proactive. In a split-second life and death moment, Kim, it's you who is able to react. Marie will most likely freeze and that hesitation might cost her her life. I need your assurances that if things do go south that you will place her and your safety as the priority."

Kim hid her face again in the shadows so that Ron could not see the etched shame that was creeping over her features. Saddened that he would automatically think that she would leave Marie to fend for herself if things hit the fan despite what she had just said and her own personal feelings.

"Now tell me about this "Tooth' guy. How reliable is he?"

"Reliable enough. I don't have to worry about him showing, having the skills to get us where we're going or asking any questions." Kim couldn't help but feel relieved that Ron had now shifted the topic to something more relevant and current.

"When I said 'reliable', I meant trustworthy?"

"He's that too."

"Known him long?"

"Geez, come out and say it. 'Is this someone who won't rat us out, Kim?' The answer is no. Sure he's a little bit out there, but he's someone I could contact out of the blue, put in the line of fire and know he won't spill the beans to anyone who comes looking for us."

"So basically you're saying that you've known him long enough and that the two of you are very close?"

Suddenly a small switch in her brain clicked 'on' and her back stiffened. In a blink of an eye she realized what was truly being asked and also what was on the line.

This wasn't a random question into her friend's character in as much as it was towards the more emotional aspects of their relationship. 'Relationship'. Ha, that is a word that has been non-existent from her private vocabulary for a very long time, but from Ron's perspective and maybe many, it is a word fitting in describing her time with 'Tooth'. They dated, they were intimate, but it never grew beyond that. That was how it was with all the other guys she had been with. Fun and a distraction, maybe the occasional sexual escapade, but nothing … 'personal'. Nothing that had the chance of growing and becoming something to pin her hopes and future on. Ron was enquiring, in as subtle a way as he possibly could, on whether or not she and 'Tooth' had had sex.

Blood drained from her face and she felt nauseous towards this realization. How could she answer a question like that now? Could she dare? She had just finished declaring her eternal love and now she was being unstealthly asked if she had been true to her word or not? Only in her screwed up world could this be happening.

If she told Ron the truth, that she and ….. had been sexual partners then she opens the door to questions involving all the other men she had shared her body with. There may not have been many, three or four, maybe six, but this distinction would have very little impact on the 'Scarlet Letter' being imaginably sewn on her clothing. Though it might be true that she didn't 'indulge' herself until she had been convinced that he was 'gone', that would be a small comfort as she tried to ramble out any justifications.

As she weighed her reply, the former heroine was startled back from her thoughts by the steady voice of her male companion. "Your right. I shouldn't have asked that question, it's none of my business. You trust him, which should be enough." He then stood up, as best he could in the rocking and moving rear container, and made the short journey back to a side of the still sleeping Marie.

Had he guessed? Did she take too long trying to come up with a reply and he was able to put the pieces of her silence together? Did she give herself away somehow? She cast a cautious look over her shoulder as Ron tried to make himself comfortable once again. His back turned to face her. As quickly as she had turned her head to look in his direction, she turned it once more away. The heel of her left hand rising to smudge the descent of newly birthed tears from cascading down her pale cheeks.

He didn't even bother excusing himself. He just got up and moved away. Deep in her chest she felt as though her heart was being strangled by her soul. For ten-minutes they were making progress, they were getting back on track and in a blink of an eye all that ground was lost again.

For the next three hours, Kim, aligned herself with these thoughts. Allowing them to besiege her over and over again. By the time their transport had come to a stop her eyes were red and stained, but not so red that it would draw the attraction of an interested Marie. Just red enough to give the impression of a person who had not slept and had kept her awareness by repeatedly wiping her eyes into alertness.

The three exited the container and their timing could not have been more perfect. The driver was making his way disinterestedly across the truck lot to an adjacent 'Greasy Spoon' for some morning breakfast. The morning air was crisp and their breath hung heavily in front of them. Ron unfolded a road map and made out the name of the town they were in, Gillette, approximately 60 kilometers from the coastal city of Nice. They had made good time so far and could be at their destination in another hour or so. But with sunlight peaking over the horizon, Ron decided that it was too risky to chance another 'free' ride. That it was smarter that they take a train or bus. Marie eagerly agreed as she wasn't too keen on subjecting her hindquarters to further abuse without the benefit of a cushion.

Ron cropped his wrist and identified the time, it was six a.m. Slinging the rucksack full of money, old clothes and false id's over his shoulder he began making his way into town.

Kim and Marie both shared a glance to one another, though no words were said it was clear that a silent message was being communicated between the females over Ron's change in demeanor. Gone was the 'supportive' Ron, what took his place was a grim and impatient figure. Kim could only imagine that this shift in personality was due to her. Like a scolded puppy, Kim labor behind the pair as they walked the two kilometers into town. Again lost in her own thoughts towards whether or not she should confront the 'silence' and have done with it. During the fifteen minute walk she alternated in her emotions, moments when she felt angered towards her treatment, did he really expect her to have become a nun when he left her? But these moments were then quickly overshadowed with the understanding that unlike her, Ron had no reference point to his own indiscretions. That he had no memory of his 'engagements' with Nicky 'Ice Princess' Parsons. She had the advantage of the truth on her side, whereas in his mind he was a born-again-virgin.

No wonder he was now giving-off a frustrated and bitter vibe. In his mind she had probably floated on from one bf to another, without ever giving him a second thought. How could she challenge him on this without having to make herself open to many uncomfortable questions of the number of guys she HAD been with She could not discuss this now, certainly not with Marie around.

Maybe later … yes, she thought to herself. We'll talk about this later. When we are both safe and have time enough to do so. I'll make him understand …

AUTHORS NOTE: You won't believe this … but I found this chapter misfiled on my PC. I thought I had lost it years ago when my Computer caught a very, very, very bad FLU. People have been urging for an update of 'The Ron Identity' well, merry Christmas. But I must be completely honest with you. This chapter would never have happened without the labors of Daccu65. His fingerprints are all over this piece of work.

Please Review, I would like to believe that this story still has its fans. That's a unsubtle hint by the way ;-) …lol.