If lovin' you is wrong….
Disclaimer/Author's Notes: Kim Possible and all the characters of the show are owned by the Disney Corporation. All other characters are the creation of the author and may not be used without his permission.
This is a strictly not-for-profit, just-for-fun work…at this time.
------
Zaratan's challenge: Something Different, Something New – Contest: This is your chance to write something completely different.
And, now, for something completely different, Zaratan.
This is not a part of the (shameless plug) Blue Eyes, Shining stories, the JadeKimVerse, the Define, Hell universe, or a reading from the California King Bedtime Stories; it has, however, become the start of the new 'lovin' story.
A/N Forward:
If lovin' Ron is wrong, then Monique doesn't want to be right.
And, neither does Ron….
-----
If lovin' you is wrong….
-----
Chapter 1: You MoRon!
-----
She clicked on her MePod, and that laid-back, MoTown beat kicked off in the earbuds she wore.
She loved that beat, and she loved that song:
"I've got Ron-shine, on a cloudy day,
"When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May,
"I'll bet,
"You say:
"What can make me feel this way?"
"Ron-shine,
"Ron-shine,
"Ron-shine,
"Talkin' 'bout, Ron-shine:
"Ron-shine!"
Monique Jenkins was singing and dancing in her new office, the new home of Club Banana's North American Headquarters, here in Middleton, and she didn't think that she had ever felt this alive before!
Especially, since she had just been named head of the entire North American operations of Club Banana!
Her smile could have powered the entire building.
She had never imagined, even in her wildest dreams, that she could feel this way about a man.
Ron!
Monique Jenkins was in love, and she couldn't believe it.
Ron!
Who'd ever imagined it?
Certainly, not Kim, not Bonnie, not even Tara..
She loved being with him, holding him, kissing him…
'Especially his freckles,' she thought, 'all over,' she visualized more freckles, and she giggled out loud.
The phone interrupted her concert and fantasy.
"Monique Jenkins," as she touched her ear bud and headed back for her desk chair.
"Is this my BDGF?"
"YBYLWRII, baby," she replied as she sat down and crossed her legs, and she tried to figure out how to climb through the lines to reach him.
"I'm in the air and on my way back to Middleton now, Mon; the client meetings went longer than I imagined, but they bought all of the new software packages, and I closed the deal," he sounded excited.
"Good for you, lover!"
"What time will you make it home, Mon?"
"I'll be a bit later tonight: the new spring lines are coming out in Milan, and I have to answer some questions on the videocall."
"How 'bout I cook dinner and have it ready when you get home?"
"Love the idea, but I was thinking about drizzling maple syrup on someone special…" Monique murmured, and he laughed.
"Now, you've done it! I'll not be able to sit straight for the rest of the flight!"
"Too bad, so sad," she teased him.
"I'll be home by 5:30, Mon: I'll see you at the door with dinner," he promised.
"Trout?"
"Of course," he replied.
"Oh, yeah," she purred like a lioness: she loved the way he prepared trout.
"Later, lover: I have a surprise for you, too.
"Bye, Mon.
"Bye, Ron," and the connection dropped.
'GF, you'd better fan yourself,' she thought as she grabbed a small presentation and fanned herself: 'you're getting hot just thinking about him.'
-----
Monique Jenkins had grown after high school, in so many ways:
She had received her BA in Fashion Design, Summa Cum Laude, from one of the most prestigious schools on the East Coast.
She had had her designs presented at Paris, Milan, Johannesburg, and New York.
On a dare, she'd modeled one of her own designs on a second-tier Paris runway, and she now had an excusive contract with Club Banana for modeling in addition to her designs.
Now, as a result of her talents in design and leadership, she was a 23 per-cent shareholder in Club Banana International, and the head of the North American offices. The corporation had just announced its move of its North American offices to Middleton, much to the chagrin of several designers.
Not to Ron, though: he loved the idea of having Mon closer to home, to him.
-----
Monique had liked Ron during high school, but she'd lost contact with everyone when she went to school on the coast.
She'd not been back since then: her parents moved to Go City, and Kim's parents had moved to Denver after the Space Center administrative operations expanded: the research facilities required more space, and the facility was landlocked. The Denver properties were perfect: far enough from the city to protect the denizens, yet close enough to continue to draw the best talent. Administration remained in Middleton, while building and staffing the new and expanded research facilities had given James Possible enough reasons to move the family; that, and Anne Possible's recruitment by Denver Memorial for the chief of surgery job.
The heads of the hospital's surgical and research wings ran through the streets, wearing nothing but bathing suits in the dead of a Denver blizzard, cameras rolling, when Anne signed her contract: they were happy. Anne just laughed and sipped her MoonNickels' while she watched the display on the air.
-----
Monique had found Ron once again, totally by accident: a weather diversion on her LAX-NY flight landed her in the Middleton International Airport for a night, and so she'd rented a car and decided to go do a drive-by on her past haunts.
Bueno Nacho was still there, she had a sudden urge for a Veggie-Naco, so she pulled in and strode in, looking for Ned.
There was Ron, sitting there, eating.
She tapped him on the shoulder; he dropped his Naco when he turned and looked up at her.
He stood and hugged her, they sat and talked, and she spent the next two hours catching up on all things MHS, but she didn't remember much of what they said.
She did remember that night at his apartment, though, and she remembered how much of a gentleman he was, even when he…and she blushed when she thought of what they had done together, that night.
She'd come back to Middleton three weeks later, and she drove him to Lowerton, hoping it was still there.
It was:
Her favorite place to eat when she was in high school was still there, the only place that could keep Rufus fed and full on something besides Nacos: Uncle Sato's Texican Ribs-N-Stuff.
'That rodent did love his ribs,' she thought with a smile.
She walked in the door, and she stopped all conversations and sales.
-----
Monique had had a way of doing that when she was in high school, and it was even worse, now.
Monique had been sought after by most of the MHS men (and, a few of the women), but she'd never dated anyone more than once or twice, choosing to 'check out the menu.'
She had a 'little growth spurt' while she was in her first year of college:
Ron liked her chest, and her full figure grabbed the attention of all when she opened the door.
She was now almost five feet 10 inches tall, and her long, lascivious, luscious legs both made men drool and stopped traffic.
But, her face was her key.
She was, in a word, beautiful, more so because she didn't act like she knew she was.
Her face shone, her eyes danced with joy, and her smile had captured more than her share of attention and sales contracts.
Sato ran, screaming, out from the kitchen, hugging his favorite customer. Monique, in turn, introduced him to Ron; Sato then read Ron the riot act, explaining in great detail and in two languages what would happen to him if he ever hurt Monique.
Ron surprised him by replying in Japanese, and the two men talked for several minutes while Monique waited, tapping her right Prada-spiked foot impatiently, until the two men finally realized that they were both in trouble.
Monique laughed, and they sat for dinner and more talk.
Sato pulled her aside and gave her his blessing, just before she left for the evening.
"Ron is good man: I approve," and she hugged Sato and said goodbye, kissing his cheek and incurring the ire of every other man in the restaurant that night.
That had been six months ago, and Monique had been wooed by Ron the entire time: he was, indeed, a good man, a gentle man, and he never missed a moment to show her just how much of a gentleman he could be.
-----
Monique left work a bit later than she expected: her videocall went well, and she took five orders from South America alone on that call.
She pulled up at the house by 6:45 PM, and Ron's car was there, parked in the garage.
She pulled into the garage, closed the garage door, and headed into the house.
She opened the door, and she could smell the trout in the oven.
"Hello, Mon," Monique looked up and was surprised when she saw him coming around the corner from the living room.
It wasn't him that surprised her: it was what he was wearing:
He was in white tie and tails, and he was carrying a bouquet of white and yellow roses.
There had to be at least two dozen.
"What are you doing, Ron?"
"Just dressing for dinner, my dear; these roses needed a lesson in beauty, so I brought them out to meet you," and he handed her the roses and kissed her.
"Ready for dinner, Mon?"
"Let me put these in some water and wash up, and I'll be ready," she kissed his cheek.
"Thank you, Ron," she whispered.
"'No big,' Mon," he laughed as he went back into the kitchen.
Monique headed for her room, intent on changing from her designer business suit to something a bit more…Ooh-Ahh.
-----
Ron had retrieved the main course and the main side dish from the ovens and was in the process of removing the bread from the third oven when a noise caught his attention, and he turned and almost dropped all of the mini-loaves on the floor.
"You like?" Monique leaned her hand on the door frame into the kitchen, and Ron, not-so-calmly, managed to lift the bread rack to the top of the stove and set it down before he burned himself.
Monique has 'slipped into something 'more fitting for dinner with a man in tails: she wore an emerald-green evening gown that left absolutely nothing to the imagination: the slit on the right side of the gown barely revealed the top of her stockings yet left the remainder of the leg, down to her shoes, wonderfully visible. The front of her dress must have been wealthy and unemployed: it had no visible means of support, yet it stood, well and firm.
She had put her hair up, and Ron contemplated nibbling on neck bones: soul food, indeed.
"Mo- Mo- Mo" Ron began, and Monique smiled as she stepped calmly yet hungrily over to him.
"Cow got your tongue, Ron, or are you just easily A-Moo-sed?" she smiled calmly, and then broke out laughing as Ron held his nose at her joke.
"That dress: it's almost as beautiful as you, Miss Jenkins," and Ron took her hand and kissed it, then took the rest of her into his arms and kissed her lovingly.
Monique enjoyed her 'welcome home.'
"Dinner?" he asked when their lips came up for joint rejuvenation, and she nodded; he took her hand and escorted her to the dining room.
Candles flickered throughout the room, and the smells were heavenly.
-----
They enjoyed grilled trout a la Ronald on a bed of broccoli rabe, a wedged iceberg lettuce salad with cherry tomatoes surrounding it, Ron's Spinach-Gouda casserole, and his homemade bread mini-loaves with sweet creamery butter mixed with garlic and chives.
Monique enjoyed the dinner almost as much as she enjoyed the conversation and company: Ron told her about his sales trip to Canada, and she laughed as he told her about his aborted, yet humorous, attempts to speak French in Quebec.
"The best part was when they took us to a Teppinyaki restaurant."
"Did they try to order in French?"
"Oui," Monique giggled, "but the maitre-d's eyes almost popped out when I began to speak to him in Japanese. We got the best table and the best chef, and he and I even had a toss-off on shrimp tails.
"Who won?"
"He did: I wouldn't shame him in his own restaurant, and he acknowledged that to me as we left when he picked up the entire dinner tab.
"Ron, you never cease to amaze me."
"Then, you'll love dessert."
"Dessert!" Monique groaned.
"I'll never be able to wear this dress again," she whined as he stood and headed into the kitchen, returning with a covered tray that smelled scrumptious.
"This is in honor of two of our old friends, Monique," and he lifted the lid to reveal two mini-pizzas covered in fresh sliced strawberries and butter, and something green and thinly sliced was embedded between some of the strawberry slices.
"I call it 'Kim-Bon Pizza Surprise,'" Ron announced, and Monique shot water on his apron protecting his white jacket.
'Ron, you are truly, truly evil," Monique laughed as he sliced her mini-pizza and served it to her on the dessert plates he'd placed on the table earlier.
"It's a homemade pastry crust basted in butter, homemade cream cheese, and topped with fresh strawberry slices covered in brown sugar, butter, and cinnamon topping. Interspersed between the sliced strawberries are strategically-placed thinly-sliced jalapeño peppers: hence, the Kim-Bon combo," Ron laughed as he dried himself and watched Monique take a bite, and her smile covered her face.
"Ron, that's delicious!"
"And, quite appropriate, don't you think?" he smiled as he pulled a chair out and sat next to Monique, pulling his own pizza over and replacing the cover on the tray before taking a bite.
"That was just the right size, Ron, and all the right textures and tastes, too: perfect, and perfectly-named, as well," Monique uncharacteristically licked her fork, and Ron laughed.
"I haven't seen you do that to silverware since Uncle Sato's Peach-Fried Cobbler," Ron laughed, and Monique moaned.
"You had to remind me," she held her stomach.
"Now, I'll have to go there tomorrow and have some, and then I'll have to work out all afternoon."
"For that gorgeous figure, Monique, pounds should run and hide from you," Ron smiled and picked up the plates, leaving the covered tray conspicuously on the table.
"I caught the Kim-Bon reference, but where's the surprise?"
"Here," and he lifted the lid once again and revealed a small, covered dish that Monique hadn't seen the first time.
"Lift the lid, Mon," he grinned, and she lifted the lid-
-and gasped as she saw the emerald and diamond engagement ring, surrounded by yellow and white rose petals.
"Something I should have done, months ago, Monique," he picked up the ring and dropped to one knee.
"One simple question, Monique Jenkins, my love," and he slipped the ring onto her outstretched hand, her finger joyously embracing the new occupant.
"Will you do me the honor of marrying me, of allowing me to become Mr. Monique Jenkins?" he asked, and Monique laughed.
"No, Ron, I won't, but I will marry you and become-" and she took his hand and lifted him to his feet, facing her.
"Mrs. Ron Reger," and she kissed her red-headed lover.
'I get Ron, and Red, at the same time,' she thought, then grinned:
'Seriously,' she giggled.
Ron scooped her up in his arms, and he carried her down the hall as Monique started singing, once again:
"I've got Ron-Shine…."
"It's workout time, the future Mrs. Reger," and Monique giggled as Ron pushed the bedroom door open with her feet, and then closed it behind him with his hips.
"On a cloudy daaaay," came from behind the door, and then silence, except for:
"RONALD REGER!
"A chinning bar?"
Silence, then
"YOU BEAST!" from Monique, accompanied by laughter, then:
"YOU MoRon!" followed by even more laughter, and
"SWEET NIBLITS, MONIQUE!"
"TWTDGTBB!"
-----
Author's afterward:
-----
Address all complaints to Zaratan at 909.555.1212.
Address all good reviews to me.
Seriously, PM if you have any questions or comments that cannot be included in a review.
Mon-speak translations:
BDGF - bon-dioggity girl friend
YBYLWRII- you bet your lilly-white rear it is
TWTDGTBB - well, I can tell you the last part: don't go there, bad boy. the first part: this is rated T, after all...
-----
Next, on If lovin' you is wrong….
Chapter 2: extending an 'Oliver' branch of peace.
------
Thanks for reading, and please review.