Takes place during Kim Possible: So the Drama

This is a short thing based on Say Something and Say Something scrap by CarbonF .

Even though the story has a happy ending, he has taken a pivotal moment when the happy ending might have come earlier; Ron doesn't necessarily have tomorrow, because Erik is coming. Actually, none of us have tomorrow, either.

Tell your someone special today that they are that someone special

Kim hopped off the scooter and turned briefly before opening the door to go in. "Well—thanks for the ride home."

Ron gazed into the luminous green eyes and tried to work past the catch in his throat. His mind was turning like a washer on rapid spin cycle: just tell her, it said. It was a moment of both of them staring up and down; Kim turned again with her hand on the doorknob and Ron let a sound out: "Ah--."

Kim turned again, expectantly, standing on tiptoes, head cocked.

Ron tried to speak the words: K.P., you're the light of my life. I care for you more than Rufus, more than Bueno Nacho; you're the sun and moon to me. He tried to just move his lips: Kim, I like you as more than friends, and I was thinking if you would--; but he just stood there—with his mouth ajar, just like the door was ajar, letting bugs in.

Kim had her own thoughts: Ron, if only you knew; it's more than just crush, it's more than the Moodulator; you saved us at Camp WannaWeep, you got the plant for me when I was dating Josh—what a mistake that was; I could so get into you—just say something, do something—give me a word, a glance, anything, let the Food Chain go itself.

Give the boy a lead-in, she told herself. "See you tomorrow?" Come on, Ron; if Amelia or Zita or Tara had said that, you would so get down, doing your "Who's the Man?" thing. Read my eyes, you goofball.

Sweat beaded Ron's head. Talk, dude, talk. "N-no prob, K.P."

Her eyes fell downcast; her head drooped and she turned again to the door.

Try again, doofus. "Well—"

She turned around again, heart palpitating, hand trembling; yes, yes, yes, Prom, movie, mall, a hug, a kiss, a handshake--.

"—g'night." He waved his hand lamely.

She felt like—what, a bug on a windshield? Like her heart had been run over by the scooter? She pushed open the door. "Yeah," she mumbled, "G'night." Sorrow and disappointment etched her face. Quick, close the door before you sniffle.

Ron stood like a limp parachute. Moron, he thought; moron, moron, moron! …moron.

He clapped his helmet on his a little too hard, and saw stars for a moment; he felt like doing it again, a little harder maybe. He mounted his scooter and putted off glumly; well, tomorrow was another day. No, his mind said; THIS was the day, the moment, the time; nobody has tomorrow. "Moron," he muttered to himself. Rufus popped out of Ron's pocket, glared upward, crossed his arms, and frowned. "Yeah, moron."

And off he went, slowly down the road.