Disclaimer: Kim Possible and friends belong to Disney Corporation. This is written for fun, not profit.
Rating: PG-13 (for some violence)
Summary: Something is wrong with Ron and Kim has to find out what it is before a partnership -- perhaps more -- is lost forever.
THE SUBSTITUTE -- Chapter One
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Shego was alone. This wasn't so unusual as to stop Kim from keeping up the fight full force, but something niggled at the back of her mind, even in the middle of a backflip.
Where is Drakken? she couldn't help but wonder, until a hot bolt of energy hitting above her right shoulder made her concentrate fully on the task at hand.
Which was kicking Shego's butt right into the Dark Ages.
Ignoring the sharp burning pain in her wounded shoulder -- pay attention, Kim, pay attention, she berated herself -- Kim took special care when landing a flying kick in Shego's midsection.
A distinctly unladylike sound followed as Shego slammed backwards into a wall. "Oooof!"
"Good one, KP!" Ron's voice, steady and true as the friend himself, was at her back and it made Kim smile, even as Shego rose, glaring.
"Tell your little boyfriend he hasn't seen anything yet."
"Hey, who you calling little?" cried Ron indignantly.
An angry chirp from Rufus completed the thought. "One, he's not my boyfriend," replied Kim smoothly, "and two, what's the matter, Shego? Jealous? I'm thinking you're not exactly inspiring anyone to write 'Friends Forever' in their notebooks with your name next to theirs anytime soon."
"Friendship is overrated," snarled Shego. "I've got all I need right here. By myself."
"Poor you," sighed Kim sarcastically. She fell back into a fighting stance, ready to end the battle. "Time to prove you can go it alone."
"Fine." Shego lunged, but to Kim's surprise, she bypassed her completely. Instead, Shego flipped twice and landed a crack! on Ron with her open hand.
"Argh!" Ron yelled, clutching the back of his neck. A glazed look, and he fell forward in a dead faint.
Kim's temper flared hotly. "That is so it, Shego."
But Shego merely smiled. "Yeah, it so is." With that, she took off, jumping through an open window and into the night..
Kim stared after her, opened-mouthed. This wasn't anything she'd expected from Shego, who had a habit of fighting until the bitter end. Still pondering, Kim knelt by Ron's side, rubbing his back absentmindedly. "Hey, wake up, Ron. It's over."
One groggy eye opened. "It is? Did we win?"
"Don't we always?" Kim replied kindly. She helped him into a sitting position and brushed a bit of dust from his hair. "What say we hit Bueno Nacho for a late one, you and me?"
Ron blinked. "I'm dying, aren't I? Because you never suggest we go to Bueno Nacho unless I'm at death's door or was at death's door or am going to be at death's door ..."
Kim sighed. "You're not at death's door, Ron. I'm hungry, okay? Can't I be hungry after running around all day and fighting all night?"
"Oh." Ron brightened considerably. "Would you mind then if I ordered a Super Onion Bueno Nordita?" He held up his hands. "I know, I know, we had some ... problems after the last one, but this time I'm ready." He pulled a small pink bottle out of his pants pocket. "Pepto Bismol, KP. The Mexican food lover's friend."
Her nose wrinkled involuntarily. "Does that stuff really work?"
Ron leaned in close, his warm breath tickling her ear. "Do we always win?" he whispered.
She couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah. We always do."
"Then what are we waiting for?" he said, jumping to his feet and pulling her with him. He whistled for Rufus. "Come on, pal. There are cooks who're going to be crying onion tears tonight."
Rufus made a noncommittal sound.
"Oh, stop complaining. I brought some Tums for you."
A squeak that sounded suspiciously like a "yay!" and they were off and running, ready for a late night snack, that niggling worry in Kim's brain all but forgotten.
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Eight o'three and Kim jumped out of bed with a shriek. "Ohmygod, I'm late!"
Forty-five seconds later she bounded into the kitchen, haphazardly dressed, hair askew. A quick slurp of tea, a snatched bite of toast, a kiss for her parents and she was out the door running.
"The bus or my new skateboard?" she wondered aloud breathlessly, knowing the answer already. "Since the bus is probably long gone ..." Smiling, she hit a button on her belt, the little blue one disguised as a polka dot.
The "skateboard" zoomed out from the garage and idled at her feet. "Oh, yeah. Much better than the bus." Kim hopped aboard, enjoying the rush of wind through her unruly mane and the rumble of energy beneath her feet.
Eight-sixteen and she arrived early, with enough time to spare to comb out her hair and apply a little bit of color to her cheeks in the girl's room. She wasn't a big fan of makeup (a disastrous encounter with runny mascara during a battle ruined most of her enthusiasm for it), but on a bad morning, a little blush and lip gloss never hurt anyone.
Feeling refreshed, she went to her locker, taking special care to lock the flyboard and its controls far in the back. One last adjustment to her backpack and ...
"Oh, hey, Ron. Come here."
The familiar figure ambled over toward her. Strangely, he looked pale and worn out, not the chipper Ron she was used to seeing, even at the early hours of the morning. "What do you want, Kim?"
Sharply said, and Kim was taken aback at his tone. "Um ... nothing. Just wanted to say hi. Good morning and all that stuff."
"Yeah, it's a great morning. Now if you'll excuse me ..." Ron turned away and continued down the hall, his shoulders slumped.
Kim blinked, then jogged after him. "Ron, are you all right? I told you that one of those Norditas so late was bad enough, but two ..."
Ron whirled around to face her. The vehemence in his face shocked Kim. "It's not the Norditas, it's not the late nights, it's you, Kim. Now if you'll just move aside and ..."
Her mouth fell open. "What?"
"Leave me the hell alone, I might be able to get through this day without kicking something," Ron said, his eyes narrow and darkening. "Or killing something."
A terrified chitter and Rufus fled his pocket, taking up trembling residence in Kim's bag. She grabbed a hold of Ron's arm, ignoring his attempts to shake her off. "What is wrong with you, Ron? Why are you being like this?"
Viciously, he pulled away, his mouth set in a hard line. "Acting like what, Kim? Like someone who is a little sick of being a second class citizen around here? Someone who keeps getting his teeth kicked in for no good reason while you sit around and laugh at me? Someone who takes lump after lump with no appreciation at all, is that what I'm acting like? Huh?"
"Ron," she said, and swallowed hard past a lump in her throat. "You're not making any sense."
"Whatever. So long, Kim. You have a nice life, for however long that is." Hands stuffed in his pockets, Ron stalked away, shouldering other surprised students out of his way.
Kim gaped after him, not bothering to wipe away a stray tear that slipped down her cheek. She usually prided herself on keeping her emotions in check, but Ron ... suddenly hating her for no reason at all ...
"Rufus," she said, gently pulling the tiny rodent out from her backpack. "Has Ron been acting like this all morning?"
Rufus nodded mournfully.
"There's something wrong here, something seriously wrong." She shook her head. Placing Rufus carefully back in her bag, she pulled out her Kimmunicator.
Wade's image buzzed to life. "What's up, Kim?"
"Wade, we need to talk. About Ron."
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Ron's chest felt weighted, with an anger he couldn't name. Everything seemed to irritate him, even as he cringed inwardly at his own actions. No matter what he did or said, nothing seemed to relieve the burden inside, or the shame of taking it out on his friends.
For the first time, he cut out of class and headed toward the playground on the other side of school. Maybe some fresh air and sunlight would straighten his head out.
Resisting the urge to kick whatever was in his path, Ron came to the swings and sat there forlornly, the chains creaking at his side.
What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he feeling this way, and worse, why was he treating Kim and Rufus so horribly? He stared at the ground trying to figure out the answer when a voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Feeling blue?"
Ron's head snapped up. "Shego?"
"I'm sorry to see you're in such a funk," she purred, looking sallow and out of place in the sunlight, her dark hair setting off her olive complexion to a green extreme. "Honestly, I don't know what took you so long to figure out that she's no good for you. That you have greater things to accomplish. It's about time you shoved her aside."
Ron blinked. "How did you know ... I ..." Understanding dawned then. "Wait a minute. When you hit me last night ..."
Shego smiled thinly. "You received a small nano-implant injection at the base of your neck, courtesy of myself and the late Dr. Drakken."
"The late?" Ron gaped. "My neck? Implant ... what the ..."
"More later," Shego snapped. She smiled again, the same death's head smile. "But for now, I think I'll see what this baby really can do."
A quick pressed to a control on her wrist, a short burst of energy and Ron found himself writhing on the gravel, a mindless rage gnawing at his insides. "Auuuugh!"
Shego knelt beside him, petting his hair. "How do you feel, new partner of mine?"
"No! Not ... your ... partner ..."
"Oh, yes," she laughed. "It's you and me against the world." An evil pause. "And Kim Possible."
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tbc ...