Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible or Ron Stoppable, etc. But you all know that. ;)
A Note From the Authoress: Hey all! First Kim Possible fic. I'm posting it here on my serious account for now, as I'm not able to upload on my other account yet. So if you see the same exact story by Carmen Rose, don't worry, it's still me. That's my account for my sillier and more experimental works, so as soon as I can, I'll be transferring this over there. Thanks!
Also, this is just a brief little fuzz-let right now, but depending on the response I get, I'll turn it into a full-on mini-epic-chapter-fic (taking place after So the Drama) with this as the prologue. So tell me what you think!
Kim relished the presence of the man beside her, burrowing further into his comforting embrace. She'd fallen asleep as soon as they'd gotten onto the plane, immediately resting her head against Ron's shoulder for lack of a better pillow. But he didn't seem to mind. He'd wrapped an arm awkwardly about her and begun stroking her wet, matted hair. The mission was nothing new: beat the bad guys and save the world, but it had taken a greater toll on her than normal. She was bruised and sore . . . and tired, but nothing more.
He'd wrapped a blanket around her in her last moments of waking and presently she delved further beneath it, shivering. Good old Ron . . . she could always rely on him to make things better. They'd known each other for almost forever, and she always told him everything, but this was a secret too precious for even him. No, not too precious for him, just too precious to tell. If she told, nothing would be the same between them. Sure, they'd grow even closer, but it would come to an end as all good things do, and that was a fate too unbearable to even ponder. He may not have poise, or the Look, or a convertible, but he was Ron, and that was all that really mattered to her. Theirs was a special kind of friendship: seemingly opposites understanding one another beyond comprehension, caring for each other the way no-one else ever could.
She nestled further into his embrace, seeking his warmth. Gazing up at him, she acknowledged his good looks. True, he wasn't handsome by the standards of Bonnie or any of those other girls, but there was something about his face, his look that could make her tremble at instances like this. It was exhilarating and frightening at once, that someone like Ron (someone without thousands of girls flocking around him, that is) could make her feel like this with such a simple touch, or a caring glance.
He was sleeping quietly now; it was a long way home. She didn't mind, though, it only gave her more time spent like this. It was the only time she could admire him like this, pretend nothing was weird about the situation, about considering her best friend perhaps a bit more than friends. But it was something she wouldn't, couldn't tell him. She just didn't have the courage. Sure, she saved the world everyday, no big, but telling her best friend she loved him? That was the one thing she couldn't do.
The plane was landing. She quickly snuggled against him and closed her eyes. The moment was ending and she needed to memorize it, capture it, keep it forever: the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body, the tenderness of his embrace. She would always have these instances, as long as Team Possible accepted far away missions, that is. Perhaps that's why she'd never tell him: these moments were too elating to risk losing.
Soon, she felt Ron jerk awake and shift to look out the window, or did he pause to look at her? She grinned slightly, burying her face in his shoulder. He always smells so good . . . He squeezed her gently.
"KP, time to wake up. We're home. KP?"
"KP?"
"Hmm?" She continued walking, eyes downcast, arms clutching her books.
"What's wrong?" Ron questioned in that 'secrets don't make friends' sort of tone. "You seem a bit, well . . . distracted." He shoved his hands in his pockets, waking Rufus from his nap, inducing an annoyed squeak. "Sorry, pal, my bad." He scratched the back of his neck with the offensive hand, pondering what Kim could possibly be so upset over. She'd been fine the previous night: he'd eased her awake, made sure she got inside her house okay, informed Mrs. Dr. Possible of the large bruises on Kim's arms, back and shoulders (she was a doctor after all, if anyone could do anything about them it was her, even if it's not exactly her specialty), said goodbye and went on his way. She hadn't seemed out of sorts, exhausted, yes, but not upset in the least.
"I was just thinking," she said, toying with the strap of her shirt. "Ya know, about the mission last night. That's all."
"Aw, KP, you'll get Drakken next time. So what? He got away. No big, right?" She sighed. Apparently that wasn't the reassurance she was looking for. Then what was wrong? What could have happened on last night's mission that could have thrown her into such a mood? "How's the shoulder? Still hurting ya?"
She shook her head and tugged on her shirt to reveal that the bruise had lost that black-green tint it had acquired the previous night. "Mom put some ice on it."
"That's good." He sighed presently and began, stuttering as he was, "Hey, I know something's bothering you right now, and I understand if you'd rather not tell me, but you're my best friend, KP, and if you ever need to talk, I'm always ready to listen."
She stopped and looked over at him as he continued a few paces ahead. Spending a few moments looking from him to her books, she considered her options. She could drop the subject altogether, he wouldn't feel bad, at least not for too long, or she could tell him how she felt. Maybe he'd feel unwanted, as if she were only mocking him. After all, she'd spend hours babbling to him about that Josh Mankey. Sure, she had a crush on him, being an attractive young man, but who did she really like? Who did she love? She became weak in the knees whenever Josh looked at her, to the point sometimes she couldn't even speak with him, but in whom did she confide her deepest secrets? Ron. He, too, caused her to tremble in anticipation, and he'd always been beside her.
And he always would.
Intuitively, she reached out and touched his hand. "Ron?"
"Yeah?"
She smiled slightly. "Thanks."
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