A/N: I decided it was time to clean up a few of my old fics, and this one jumped out at me while perusing my files. I'm still quite pleased with this story, but when I, the author, get distracted by the spelling mistakes and grammar issues, I figured I probably wasn't the only one. :) Anyway, nothing much has changed plot-wise here, so re-reading it isn't a necessity. If you're new to this story, please enjoy!
Title: Under the Moonlight
Summary: "It's midnight, Kimberly," he murmured, "Time to unmask."
Characters: Kim Possible/Montgomery Fiske
Rating: M for content
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters related to the Disney Channel series "Kim Possible" nor the lyrics to "Can't Fight the Moonlight" by the talented Leann Rimes.
Her parents were in such awe of her as she came down the stairs to join the annual Halloween party; all eyes fixated on her with every descending step. It was like being in the Cinderella story, entering the ball and taking everyone's breath away with nothing more than her presence.
Everyone who should have mattered was there: Wade dressed as one of his favorite sci-fi action figures; Ron in full Batman ensemble, with Rufus perched on his shoulder in a ridiculously adorable Robin costume. The twins were decked out in matching outfits and neither looked entirely pleased about it either. Mom must have dressed them herself.
"You look beautiful, Kimmy," her mother murmured, hugging her tightly—almost too tightly. This must be what happened when you returned from college after several long months of separation. You've been missed too much to not entice an abundance of hugs and embraces from the whole family. And she took it all. She'd missed them too.
The guests all asked questions, of course. She had expected it and handled each one with grace and poise, keeping a level gaze and moving her head in neutral, well-rehearsed motions. How is your first year treating you? Have you met anyone nice? Are you still upset about breaking up with Ronald?—that was Nana's first question, of course. The whole world wanted to know that answer, but no answer she gave was quite satisfactory. The answer was always "No", but of course, that could only be a coping mechanism. She wasn't really alright with the breakup, but she had to be strong…had to be an idol for girls all around the world. Nana had been singing her praises at the retirement home, how she was proof that you didn't need a man to live your life. She was doing so now, identifying the initial response to her questions as, once again, strength and independence from her granddaughter, and declaring her assumptions to everyone who would spare a minute to listen.
And Kim just smiled, nodded, and walked on to greet the other guests.
The silk of her dress was cool against her bare legs as she walked from neighbor to neighbor, smiling and shaking hands. Her father was so proud of her, boasting her high grades to his group of friends with the announcement that, clearly, genius ran in the family. She nodded quietly when he directed attention back to her, holding her punch cup just right so it wouldn't spill on her costume. Poise and grace, the standard of what was expected of her.
Music started to play. A few of her parents' friends started to dance, allowing the rhythm to steal through conversation as they took to the living room floor. Jim and Tim wasted no time getting in the middle of things, dancing to their own beat without care. Everyone laughed and praised their creativity.
And Kim leaned politely against the wall, knowing that the slightest indication that she—the perfect role model, the icon of young girls worldwide—wanted to be there, dancing without care or restraint, eyebrows would raise and the carefree atmosphere would become thick with bewilderment that she would ever be so reckless and wild.
She quietly laughed to herself, watching Wade ask Monique to dance. Initial reluctance faded quickly to amusement, and a willingness to toss caution to the wind even if only for one moment. Shortly thereafter, Ron joined the twins on the dance floor, establishing his own rhythm and earning the cheerful approval of those who expected this from him. And still she stood quietly, her limbs quivering as the music coursed its way through her system and stirred to life a longing to dance…all while knowing such behavior was not accessible to her now.
She finished her drink and went to refill it, her eyes idly drifting to the patio door and suddenly catching a dark shape, distinct even amongst the shadows. Others stood near her, and perhaps they saw it or perhaps they didn't. If they did, they would think it a raccoon or a fox making its way through the garden. It was nothing to worry about…or so it would have seemed to those who didn't know better. She was not such a person.
Under a lovers' sky,
gonna be with you.
And no one's gonna be around.
No one saw her move towards the back door. No one heard the door slide open, and no one noticed her slipping out into the shadows and out of sight. And she stood for a long moment under the full moon, with silver rays falling idly along the folds of her skirt and stitching over the laces of her bodice. The light from above was soft and gentle, the perfect accompaniment to the evening breeze that brushed over her exposed shoulders and down her arms until the obstruction of black silk gloves prevented any further sensation.
If you think that you won't fall,
well just wait until
till the sun goes down.
Her fiery mane had initially been twisted up and fastened carefully with pins, but the strands had not been entirely willing to cooperate tonight. Under the aid of even the slightest wind, several broke free and fell against her throat and cheeks in the thick spiraled curls which they had been transformed into earlier tonight. It felt good to have them loose, and she tucked away a smile to think that her hair would have such a mind of its own.
It was quiet, and there was no one here with her in the garden…but that was a lie, wasn't it? She wasn't alone. She hadn't been truly alone for a long time.
Underneath the starlight, starlight,
there's a magical feeling - so right.
It'll steal your heart tonight.
"You shouldn't be out alone, Kimberly. Don't you know that the full moon is a bewitching hour?"
She turned. She wanted to say that the only thing bewitching about this night was the moonlight in his sharp blue eyes, but she kept silent. She wasn't about to just hand over control to him with a compliment like that. He had to work for her praise just as she had to work for his.
You can try to resist,
try to hide from my kiss
But you know,
but you know that you can't fight the moonlight.
He seemed to appreciate, or at least tolerate, her silence. At the very least, she knew he expected it. She was too strong to cave so easily, and his appreciation for her stubbornness was almost flattering. She felt it in the silent sweep of his eyes down the length of her body from the shadows. His voice would betray nothing, but there was something stirring in his gaze that warmed her skin as though he had delivered a caress.
Deep in the dark,
you'll surrender your heart.
But you know,
but you know that you can't fight the moonlight.
No, you can't fight it.
It's gonna get to your heart
From the darkness, he cast a heated gaze along the vision bathed in moonlight and framed in shadows. She resembled a triumphant goddess in that dress, authority in her stance and a steady confidence in her eyes. His presence should have been a threat, and yet she stood unafraid. But then she hadn't been afraid since the moment they'd met…why should anything change now?
His hand, gloved to hide his secret, extended to her. Black silk slowly consented to lie upon black cotton, her fingers curling around his palm with a soft touch that sent a tingle along his nerves—he hadn't felt it in months, but it felt as though years. Too long without her presence, her sharp wit and pleasant conversation to keep him company, the feel of her skin against his…
With that simple thought in mind, his large hand contracted around hers to draw her close with an idle, effortless gesture. His skin was warm through the material of his outfit, and he knew it affected her as it had him…but then her hand set upon his chest in a firm and deliberate gesture. Her eyes met his, and her message was apparent even in silence: Not here.
He was a master of stealth, and she, his student, had been taught well. She had learned quickly, and even in the confines of a dress, she moved through the house with as little effort as he. She thought she heard her father ask if anyone had seen her. Her society-born instincts told her to call out, to tell the truth, to announce her visitor and betray him to the proper authorities without a second's hesitation. But the teachings of her youth seemed a world away now, and instead she silently maneuvered up the ladder to her lofted room, skirt in one hand to maintain balance. As she carefully dragged the heavy plank over the entrance—the only thing that served as a proper door—silence greeted her and she knew a temporary fear that he had left her. But an unspoken reassurance had been shared in their earlier gaze, and she knew he was not leaving tonight.
There's no escape from love.
Once a gentle breeze
weaves it's spell upon your heart
Her window was open. The cool breeze flowed in, brushing over her loose curls. She set her palms upon the sill, gazing out for a long moment of silence to admire the moon hanging in perfect balance, striking against the black sky and interrupting darkness with its pale rays. Her skin felt charged, electric with the renewed familiarity of his warmth. A tingle crept along her spine that had nothing to do with fear or uncertainty, and she wondered for a moment if all those legends of a full moon's power were in fact true.
"So," her tone was low and quiet. It sounded very unlike her own, and yet she'd used this very tone many times before in his company, "Has my mentor now become my stalker?"
No matter what you think
it won't be too long
till you're in my arms
"Consider it retribution, Kimberly," he replied, voice low, nearly rumbling, "A response to your abandonment."
"I haven't abandoned you," she answered quietly, still staring out the window, "I have school…responsibilities. My time isn't always my own; you know that."
"You have forgotten your studies…your lessons." There was a deeper implication to those words that was intended as a direct blow to her heart, but she was prepared for such an attack. He didn't always win the battle, not when she was his opponent.
"No," she insisted, finally turning to meet those blue pools that matched her gaze with cool confidence, "I haven't."
"Prove it,"
A tremor ran through her at the rich power in his tone. His self-assurance, his collected demeanor that betrayed nothing of underlying emotions were put on display, and yet she knew there was something else just beneath the surface. Something dark and incredibly exciting…but she stayed firm and unmoved, not allowing him to sense her weakness just yet, "I shouldn't have to prove anything. My word should be enough."
Underneath the starlight, starlight, we'll be lost in the rhythm - so right.
Feel it steal your heart tonight.
"Your actions have always spoken louder than your words. Prove me wrong." His hand set on her face, cupping her chin to ensure she met his gaze. The black cotton felt good on her skin, a strange mixture of cool cloth and heated skin, "Let me see that you can still surrender your control."
"I don't surrender to just anyone." Her answer was firm, strong and unyielding. Yet even as she spoke, she leaned closer. Her lips came to rest mere inches from his jaw, "And if you want my surrender…you'll have to work for it."
"You disrespect me?"
"No," a light shake of the head sent soft curls brushing over his skin, "I challenge you."
His arm, quick as a viper, wrapped around her waist, bringing her forward without pause, "Good girl," he breathed in her ear. She could hear the smile on his lips….felt it against her temple as he placed a very deliberate kiss there, just beneath the hairline. He was pushing her restraint, knowing precisely where to hit to inflict the most damage.
"I'm not a girl," she whispered, lips inches from his ear as she released a soft stream of warm breath against his exposed skin. Highlighted by moonlight, she could see the muscles in his throat flex, not quite fast enough to battle the shiver she'd caused to run fast through his limbs. His weaknesses were hers to exploit, and before the night was done she intended to use each and every one against him.
Before he could muster a proper response, she tilted her head and found his mouth with hers. Warm lips, the scent of his skin wafting through her senses as she closed the distance between them…it was familiar, and it was hers.
You can try to resist,
try to hide from my kiss,
but you know,
but you know that you can't fight the moonlight.
Her kiss was strong, fierce and commanding a response when his stubbornness refused to give one at first. Displeased, her fingers quickly wound in the thick material of his clothing and dragged him closer until the swells of her breasts were pressed to taut, lean muscles. A low growl rumbled against her mouth, and then his large hands grabbed her hips and roughly dragged her forward. He felt her lips make the attempt to retreat, defiance rising to the surface in response to his actions…but she wouldn't escape so easily.
His sharp canines caught on her lower lip, biting firmly and drawing the tiniest drop of blood. Her gasp quickly allowed access, and he took the opportunity as it had come to him. Her pained gasp soon quieted to a soft moan as he explored the cavern she'd opened to his advances. Reacquainting himself with her taste produced another deep-seated moan of delight.
Deep in the dark,
you'll surrender your heart.
But you know,
but you know that you can't fight the moonlight.
Her fingers quickly dragged downward, working apart the knot of his belt. The cloth soon fell apart with a quiet whisper of garment against skin, and her hands pressed to his chest, retracing her earlier touch upward to uncover his torso. Her touches were soft, but by no means were they innocent and unaccustomed to the feel of this man's skin. His heat threatened to burn her even through the gloves, but her advances never paused or slowed. In her mind's inner eye, she recalled every patch of skin that produced a groan or a shiver; every sensitive area that could stoke the flame of desire within him to all-consuming heights, and so she followed the invisible map her memory etched out upon his skin.
No you can't fight it
His hands drifted upward from her hips, skilled fingers finding the zipper of her gown with little difficulty. A firm tug parted the article at once, and his hands quickly explored the newly uncovered skin. A smile twisted his lips as he felt no undergarment deterring his exploration of her back and chest. A hungry little vixen was what he'd found tonight, and the discovery couldn't have pleased him more.
No matter what you do
His touches earned quiet gasps and stifled moans from her lips. He claimed them once more, this time tasting a hint of mint-tinged lip gloss. Finally, tired of the silken obstruction blocking his full view of her curves, he took a firm hold of the gown and pushed it down to the floor where it pooled around her slim ankles. She gave a quiet sound as the cool breeze touched her without interference, but she didn't protest or seek some type of covering to hide herself. Breaking the kiss, she leaned slightly back and met his gaze evenly as he took a slow step backward, admiration in his eyes in such a way that she couldn't resist a small smile from lifting her lips.
The night is gonna get to you.
Ah, but she was indeed a goddess…her beauty brought to new heights under the silvery caress of moonlight that swept along her curves and teased the lean cut of her muscles. A vision fit for the primal longings of lesser men, and here she was with him, at his disposal…
Wearing a smile that held no small amount of smugness at its corners, he took additional steps backward, easily avoiding his discarded clothing to sit on the edge of her bed. One hand rose from his side, two fingers crooked in a beckoning. He could see her bristle at his confidence, at the simple assurance that she wouldn't disobey him, and for a moment there appeared a hardened determination to resist him…but in the next minute, she moved forward and he knew his initial suspicions had proven true.
Don't try then;
you're never gonna win.
She made for the bed on quick and lithe legs. Her knees were the first to meet the soft covers of her bed, bringing the rest of her body forward to land on her open palms. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders, spilling onto his bare chest. Her breathing grew labored, eyes dark and burning as they met his. He traced an idle finger up her bare arm and admired the shiver that answered his touch. She was on fire, and he had no intentions of cooling her blood anytime soon. This was the young woman he desired, the one always tucked away from the eye of civilized society. It had once angered him to think that she did so because there were consequences waiting should she reveal her true self…and then he'd realized it simply made her all the more like him. And that alone proved she was meant to be his, and her true face belonged to him alone.
One hand lifted to cup her hip possessively, "It's midnight, Kimberly," his voice was a low growl saturated in passion and hunger, "Time to unmask."
Underneath the starlight, starlight,
His smile was all but mirrored on her face as she leaned back on her heels. Both hands splayed out over her stomach, inching their way down to the smooth curve of her hips, then to the thin band of her underwear. Both index fingers hooked around the garment, but didn't remove them quite yet. There was a blatant challenge in her gaze, emphasized by the slight upward crook of her eyebrows as she smirked.
He growled, fire blazing in his veins at the openly provocative image, "Do not test me, child."
"Why not?" She taunted.
There's a magical feeling - so right.
Oh, she was positively delicious this way. She had learned so quickly—and all because of his lessons, no less. Nothing that the common, civilized world would have taught her, but lessons that could only be learned in a world far, far away from the one that had initially conceived her. Had she remained in that world, she would have become another puppet of society's whims, never knowing all that she could have become. But he needn't worry about that; he had, admittedly, corrupted her purity and wholesome nature, but they were both the better for it. She had no regrets, and he certainly had no complaints regarding the end result of tedious lessons that had tried and tested them both past endurance.
It will steal your heart tonight.
"Do it," he commanded, "Show me what you're really capable of…or have you gone soft on me?"
"I'll show you soft," she snarled. Her teasing done, her fingers grabbed a hold of her undergarment and threw it to join the growing pile of clothes. Her hands pressed to his chest and her nails bit into his skin, earning first a delightful hiss and then a pleasured groan from him. She smirked. "My, my, Lord Fiske…I had no idea you were such a masochist…"
"Do not tease…"
"So make me stop," she replied. Seconds later, he had obeyed her statement without warning or any indication of his plans. With a firm, unyielding grip, he seized her hips and flung her down beneath him. Her hair finally broke free of its constraints, and curls were tossed wildly without the pins to keep them in place. Where the pins had landed, she didn't know and didn't care. Right now, all she could think to focus on were his hands combing firmly through her curls, massaging her scalp as he did her muscles before each training session.
"Now," he breathed in her ear, "say it."
You can try to resist,
try to hide from my kiss,
Ah, this constant game of control and battling wills…how she'd missed it. "No," she answered firmly, clenching her jaw in defiance.
"Say it, Kimberly…" his hands were wandering downward. She bit her lip, strongly suspecting what was to come…but she had to stay strong. She couldn't break yet.
"No,"
He only smirked, pressing firm kisses down her abdomen. It took her a minute to realize where he was going, but by the time she'd realized it, he had arrived at his intended destination.
But you know,
but you know that you can't fight the moonlight.
Her hand wrapped tightly over her mouth, stifling her moans and whimpers less she rouse suspicion down below. Silence was her only means of preserving dignity when, had there been no audience down below, she would have been singing. He transformed her into a little puppet, one he was not afraid to toy with, tease and torment, yanking on her strings to make her buck one minute, writhe the next. The hand that was not covering her mouth helplessly found its way down to his head with fingers tangling roughly in his hair. She had her pride, but even so she could feel resistance crumbling as her grip silently begged for him to continue, where to touch her in such a way that her body shrieked for release.
Deep in the dark,
you'll surrender your heart
"Say it," he growled.
"N-No…" the stutter meant she was breaking. Never a good thing—at least not for her anyway. He had a history of using that to his advantage…and sure enough, she felt him smirk.
"Now, Kimberly," he breathed, nipping just enough that she drew blood, biting down on her hand to stifle a cry that wasn't entirely pained, "say it, my love."
But you know,
but you know that you can't fight the moonlight.
No, you can't fight it.
He was too clever…too talented…damn it. Swallowed back a loud moan, she slowly pulled her hand back to allow only two words past her quivering lips. "I'm yours."
You can try to resist,
try to hide from my kiss,
"Only mine?" he whispered, satisfaction warming his blood with renewed confidence and delight. Those words, simple and meager though they may seem, never failed to delight him. Naturally, he knew she was his, and he was sure she had to know it too…but there was just something about hearing them from those beautiful, proud and defiant lips.
"Yes…" she nodded weakly, her body shaking as he continued on with her torment. He knew what she was seeking…what she longed for and begged for without a single word…but the game couldn't end so easily. Now, the real fun could begin.
But you know,
don't you know that you can't fight the moonlight?
Deep in the dark,
you'll surrender your heart
Abruptly, he drew back from her without a word. She swallowed back a growl of protest, half of her wanting to physically injure him for such senseless torture, half of her wanting to beg and plead for more until he acquiesced…and all of her wanting to punish him for abandoning her.
But then, his hands grasped her hips and dragged her on top of his compliant form. She blinked, considering the change of pace, and then smiled quietly. "Aren't you the gentleman…?" she murmured, tracing her fingers between the firm muscles of his chest, "This is new."
But you know that you can't fight the moonlight.
"Consider it a gift," he replied, that insufferable smile still on his face, though this time without its usual irritating effect on her, "It normally takes me twice as long to get those words out of you…are you certain you haven't gone soft on me?"
No, you can't fight it…
Her eyes were manic as she rid him of the last pieces of clothing, nipping the nape of his neck and drinking in his startled groan. She gazed down at him, smirking with his confidence as her own. The game, indeed, had only just begun…and they had all night to declare a victor.
"Ready to find out, Monty?"
It's gonna get to your heart.