Some Days
Summary: Sucks to be Shego, worse to be Ron. RonGo
Disclaimer: I don't make any money off of Kim Possible or its characters, sadly.
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Some days it sucked to be Ron Stoppable. Whenever there was a mission, a test, or elitist jocks waiting for him at the end of a hall, things would end badly for him. So actually, it sucked to be Ron Stoppable on most days.
Bonnie called him a loser almost everyday. Kim reminded him Bonnie called everyone a loser, but Ron knew she said it with extra venom just for him.
And Kim and her missions. Ron hated missions. If he had the choice, he would just hide in a corner and cry, which he usually did. Occasionally, he would disarm a death ray with the button-mashing skills he picked up playing Super-Smash Bros. That was his moment of glory. Unfortunately, he was never recognized for it.
This was another one of those days. Kim was receiving her eighth award from the mayor for saving Middleton from another one of Drakken and Shego's nefarious schemes (something involving watermelon this time) while Ron sat down on the curb outside city hall. Kim had tried to get him in, but the fire marshal had said the seating capacity was 1,000, and the mayor had said they needed it for the important people.
"Don't worry," Kim had told him, "I'm sure you're still 1001th most important person in town." Ron knew she was trying to be nice. He was probably closer to 1253th most important.
His reverie was broken by the sound of someone walking, probably a janitor or trash collector. Whoever it was, they stopped a few yards away from him.
"Just take me out with the trash," said Ron dejectedly.
"Stoppable?" asked the other person. Ron squinted out at the darkness. He could faintly make out a skin tight jump-suit and a familiar face above it.
"Shego?" asked Ron. "Wow, you look like crap." Her face was red, as if she had been crying and smashing things for the last few days.
"Sometimes work gets a little frustrating after getting your ass kicked around by a little cheerleader for the hundredth time," snapped Shego. "Nobody takes me seriously anymore, and Drakken is about to fire me." Ron did not look terribly impressed.
"Hey, at least you're not me," he said. Shego cocked her head to the side, curious. "I play sidekick to the cheerleader, I put myself in almost as much danger as she does, and I never get recognized for it," continued Ron, jerking a thumb towards city hall. He looked bitterly at the glowing spectacle inside. "Everyday, people at school beat me up because my best friend is a naked mole rat. I can't do anything with my hair. It's not even long enough to be emo. . ."
Shego sat down next to Ron and looked him up and down. She took note of his dated outfit, scrawny arms, and whiny expression. "Wow, you do suck," she said half-to-herself, half-to-Ron.
"Yeah, thanks for noticing," said Ron, even more dejected than before. Shego didn't notice, and wiped away a tear.
"I feel a lot better about myself," said Shego, smiling a little. "Thanks, cutie." She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. Before Ron could respond with anything other than furious blushing, she had already disappeared into the darkness of the city at night.
Ron put one hand over his cheek, still warm from Shego's lips. As it sunk in that he had just been kissed on the cheek by a woman, a non-related older woman who didn't look half-bad in spandex, it no longer mattered who in the city hall recognized him or whether the street cleaners thought he was a freak. Not anymore. Ron stood up, pumped his right arm in the air and shouted, to the mayor, to the town, to the night sky, "Booyah!"
Some days, it was good to be Ron Stoppable.