Usual Legal Junk:
I don't own Kim Possible… Blah, blah, blah… Kim, Ron, and all the other characters are property of The Disney Corporation… Blah, blah… I'm not making any money off of this… Blah… All rights reserved… Whatever.
Surgeon General's Warning:
The following story is known to contain elevated levels of saccharine and fluffy sweetness strong enough to gag a humming bird. Exposure to this story will undoubtedly rot your teeth, warp your mind, and lose the war on terror. Individuals who suffer from diabetes, high blood sugar, hypertension or fluff allergies are advised to immediately close this page, reboot their computer, scour their hard drive with a Brillo pad, and gouge out their eyes with a melon scoop.
Consider yourselves warned!
- Past Remembrance & Future Promise -
There are certain times in every person's life: Watershed moments when gravity of circumstance forces us to momentarily divert our gaze upward, and view the road of life through the rear-view mirror that is our memory. There are landmarks along that road, just as there are along any highway or byway: Landmarks that record our journey, frame our experience, and direct us to the point where we now find ourselves sitting, awaiting the opportunity to punch the gas once again.
For the young woman now staring at her own image in the oversized mirror, this was just such a moment. She had dreamed of this moment, after all, ever since she had been old enough to comprehend its significance. In the expansive reaches of her imagination, it had played itself out a thousand times over, continually changing over the years, acquiring new faces and names, and disposing of them in turn. In a way, her dreams of this moment were a reflection of her life through the years… And what a life it had been.
Only twenty-three years of age, and she had already experienced more excitement and adventure, traveled to more exotic locations, and had more of an impact upon the world than most people would manage in their entire lifetimes. It had been a whirlwind ride filled with joy, enthusiasm, intrigue, action and adventure… And it had all started with six simple words, not one of them longer than a single syllable:
"You're weird, but I like you."
From that simple sentence, had blossomed something more amazing than anything anyone would have ever dared imagine. It had grown slowly over the years, almost imperceptibly, like a delicate and exotic flower, gradually unfurling its wondrous blooms to the world, bringing so much color and beauty into her life.
From simple play dates and finger painting in Pre-K, emerged a relationship so quintessential and so fundamentally profound that it ultimately came to define life as she knew it. Along the way, it grew to include trips to the movies, eating out, and celebrating each other's birthdays. They learned about each other's backgrounds and celebrated each other's religious holidays. They studied together, joined clubs together, and eventually, even saved the world together.
They were quite different from one another, to be sure. She was a hard-driving, type-A perfectionist, while he was a clumsy, type-B slacker. She felt driven to excel, and hated even the idea of taking a back seat to anyone. He thought this was simply the fast track to a bad case of ulcers, and preferred to hang back in the shadows, avoiding the limelight and allowing life to come to him.
To spite their divergent personalities, however, they were completely inseparable, their dissimilarities seeming to balance each other perfectly. His level-headedness kept her grounded in reality, while her fiery competitiveness pushed him to levels of achievement that he would have never otherwise accomplished. They fit together like two sides of the same coin, each one being wonderfully completed by the other: A living example of that ancient principal known as "Yin and Yang."
It was this inter-connectivity between them that pulled them through all the rigors, trials and tribulations of adolescence. For each knew that no matter how dark their world may become, they could always count on the friendship of the other, and that certainty through the trials of life continually served to make the bond they shared all the stronger.
…Right up until the moment that everything changed.
Waking up as a prisoner had been the lowest point of her young life. Through her shallow-minded histrionics, she had allowed herself to be played like a dime store harmonica, and the experience had broken her in ways that she never dreamed she could be broken. She was despondent, believing herself to be some sort of freakish anomaly that no one could ever want or love. Despair was quick to set in, enveloping her like a great, gloomy cloud, and in this, her darkest hour, she had done something that she had never, ever done, neither before nor since…
Kim Possible, had given up.
In the gloom of that darkened warehouse, the brilliant flame of her fiery spirit had flickered… then died. She had stood poised on the edge of oblivion, staring into a bottomless abyss, fully prepared to take that one final step and allow the infinite darkness of despair and hopelessness to utterly consume her. Without guidance and without hope, her spirit was broken and her soul was cast adrift, sent spiraling off into the utter nothingness. She was without tether or direction: She was finished.
And then, there was Ron…
Reaching out through the cloud of darkness that was quickly consuming her very soul, he had caught her in mid-fall, his words pulling her back from the brink, saving her from eminent self-destruction. He had been her lifeline that night, saving her in every way that a person could be saved, and it was through him that she had found the strength of courage to carry on the fight, and ultimately persevere.
But her brush with hopelessness wasn't the only thing that had transpired that night. For from the lonesome depths of her own despair, something wonderful had been born. It had risen from the smoldering ashes of her shattered spirit like the mythical Phoenix, spreading its glorious wings to reveal a beautiful world of color and light that she had never before dreamed existed.
Throughout the years, Ron had been a multitude of things to her. He had been a lab partner, a study buddy, and a fashion consultant. He had played the role of friend, supporter, protector, advocate and sidekick. He had been a friend to laugh with, a shoulder to cry on, and a trusted confidant with whom she could share her inner most feelings and secrets. He was her emotional anchor, always keeping her firmly grounded in everything that was real and meaningful in her life.
But in the dim light of the moonlit warehouse that night, a strange metamorphosis took place. Right before her eyes, Ron changed, and turned into something that she never expected.
In retrospect, the change had been an ongoing process for quite some time beforehand. It was just that in her perpetually distracted state, she had simply failed to notice. She had been blinded by the status quo of their lives, overlooking the subtle differences that had developed between them. It wasn't until the emotional trauma of that night stripped away all pretense of normalcy, that she was finally able to see that which had been right in front of her all along.
At times, it seemed as though she was the last person in the world to realize that she loved Ron Stoppable. There was something to be said for the benefits of perspective, after all. If she had only been able to step out of herself and see the two of them in the same way that others saw them, then maybe things would have played out differently. Perhaps she would have found her moment of revelation that much sooner, and saved herself the agony of stumbling about blindly in the dark, searching for something that was ironically right beside her the entire time.
Such was not the case, however, and in the end she was forced to conclude that it didn't really matter. As the immortal bard once said, "All's well that ends well," and in the end she had found that most special of things: Something that all people search for, but few ever truly find.
Indeed, it had been a long and winding road, filled with speed bumps, potholes, slow downs, and more than its fair share of wrong turns. Ultimately, however, it had led her to the point where she now stood, standing in front of a full-length mirror, observing the shimmering white figure that stared back at her.
The taffeta dress was the picture of simple elegance, with just enough embroidery and beading to make it stand out without crossing the line into the realm of "gaudy." Its long sleeves were accentuated with fine lace and the bodice was quite flattering, especially considering the fact that she was never the most "well-endowed" woman in the room.
Throughout the years, she had always felt that modesty was one of her most redeeming qualities. Be that as it may, however, Kim now found herself slowly turning in front of the mirror, admiring her own appearance. She would never admit it publicly, but she now silently acknowledged that she was really pulling this look off. She turned once again, allowing herself a guilty moment of vanity, and nearly jumped right out of the dress when a startling knock came from the door.
"Come in." Kim bade, doing her best to quickly compose herself and catch her breath.
"How are you holding up, sweetie?" Anne Possible asked as she entered the room.
"Nervous as a cat in a kennel." Kim warily admitted, moving to hug her mother.
"That pretty much fits." Anne admitted as she accepted her only daughter's embrace. "It was the same for me when I was the one in the white dress."
"Dad made you that nervous, huh?"
"Your father, his parents, my parents, the minister, the caterer, the organ player, the…"
"Okay, okay… I don't need the whole list. I've been living it for the past six months, remember?"
"How could I ever forget?"
"Oh c'mon, mom… Planning this wasn't really all that bad."
"Need I remind you of the 'bunting incident?'"
"All right… So maybe it was that bad."
"Well, you got through it okay, didn't you?"
"I'll let you know when the reception is over."
"Too true." Anne agreed, releasing the embrace and stepping back to admire her progeny's appearance.
"You really are a beautiful bride, Kimmie." She sighed, giving Kim the once-over.
"Thanks mom, but there's only one person right now whose reaction I'm really concerned about." Kim admitted, lightly tugging at one of her sleeves.
"I don't think you have anything to worry about, honey." Anne reassured her daughter, moving to help her straighten the dress's sleeves and shoulders. "I'm pretty sure Ron would find you stunning even if you walked down the aisle wearing the proverbial burlap sack."
"Ugh, thanks for the mental imagery there, mom." Kim winced. The thought of herself dressed in such a way on the biggest day of her young life was enough to send a chill down her spine.
"Hey… I'm just trying to help." Anne said, raising her hands defensively. "Just try to relax now, sweetie. We'll handle everything… You just concentrate on Ron."
"I don't think that'll be a problem." Kim smiled.
"I know, honey." Anne smiled in return. "I need to be getting to my seat now. Your father will be here in a few minutes to walk you down."
"Thanks, mom." Kim said through eyes now brimming with unshed tears, moving once again to embrace her mother. "Thanks for everything."
"It's really no big, honey. Paying for their daughter's wedding is just what we parents do."
"That's not what I meant, mom… Although… Yeah, thanks for that too."
"I think you just lost me there."
"Thanks for us."
"Come again?"
"Before we started dating, I know you spent a lot of time pushing Ron and me together." Kim admitted, now unable to hold back the tears of joy she was shedding. "It's just that, without you doing what you did, I might have completely missed him."
"I don't think you give yourself enough credit, Kimmie." Anne lightly admonished her teary-eyed daughter. "I'm pretty sure you would have come around eventually. I was just making sure you were looking in the right direction when you did."
"Yeah, well, thanks for that!" Kim said, releasing her mother to wipe at her own eyes. (Thank God for smear-proof mascara.)
The tears were well justified, as she meant every word that she had said. Throughout all the time that had passed since she and Ron had grown from friends into lovers, there was always a strange sense of anxiety locked deep within the recesses of her mind. It was a thought that she never dared voice to anyone, lest she tempt fate with some sort of a cosmic jinx, causing herself to wake from what at times seemed like the most wonderful dream in the world: The dream that was her life with Ron.
She knew that the road for them had been bumpy at times, and that there had been many potential wrong turns along the way. The thought that on so many occasions, she had come so close to losing him, perhaps without even realizing it, made her very blood run cold.
It was the thought that her mother had been looking over her shoulder the entire time, guiding her and keeping her on the right track, which restored her circulation once again. To know that she had a guardian angel looking out for her, even when she had been completely oblivious to the situation at hand, made all the anxiety over the prospect of what could have been, disappear.
"I'll see you in front." Anne said, turning to leave.
"Oh, I'll be there," Kim assured her with a radiant smile.
This was not the scene that he had pictured.
Over the years, he had imagined this day more times than he could count, each time his mind conjuring a feature film of scenes and images. There were many elements within this mental movie that had changed over time, but there were just as many things that had remained the same.
One of these unchanging things had been his own appearance. He had always seen himself standing tall and proud, clad in an immaculate black tuxedo, the look completed by a white, satin yarmulke.
The image that now stared back at him from the mirror, however, looked nothing like the one from his imagination. He was still standing tall and proud, to be sure, but the wardrobe could not have been more different.
The black tux had instead been transformed into a dark blue uniform, adorned along its entire length with gold and silver. There were the thunderbolt lapel pins, the pilot's wings placed directly over his heart, and the small collection of medals just below. The stripes and rockers upon his shoulders indicated the rank that he had worked so hard to achieve, and the yarmulke had been transformed into a bleach-white officers cap with a golden, shielded eagle and "scrambled eggs" upon its brim.
And then, there was the sword…
Pulling the ornate dress sword from its scabbard, Ron admired the complex series of images that ran along the length of the blade. Etched into the finely-polished steel by lasers, the intricate patterns seemed to jump off of the surface, acquiring a life and will all their own. There were images of eagles in flight and crossed thunderbolts, interwoven with vines of creeping ivy. The production was almost holographic in its nature, appearing to move and morph as the angle of the blade was rotated and changed.
Far from being a mere weapon, or an implement of ceremony, an Eagles sword was a work of art, crafted in the finest traditions of the age-old trade. But this particular sword, however, held a secret all its own.
Holding the weapon upright in front of him, the room was momentarily flooded with a brilliant flash of bluish-white light. When the light faded after an instant, the ornate saber had been transformed into an elegant Japanese katana.
Disguising the Lotus Blade in such a way had been his own idea. It made a lot of sense, after all, as it allowed him to always keep it close at hand, while at the same time avoiding the suspicion that is often raised when a houseguest goes looking for his coat, and stumbles across a glowing samurai sword in the back of your hall closet.
Gently holding the blade as if it were a small bird, he slowly twirled it about, feeling the perfect weight and balance that the weapon possessed. He spun it around over his head, and through an elegant "figure-eight" pattern in front of him, allowing its power and grace to flow through him. It wasn't an implement to him, but rather a part of his person. He wielded it as if it was an extension of his own arm, and he could sense every subtle nuance of its motion almost instinctively.
It seemed as though the sword could also sense his nuances as well. With one final twirl, he brought the blade across himself in a graceful, sweeping arc… And accidentally lopped the blooms off a vase full of white roses.
"Doing a little gardening, are we, Ronald?" a voice called out from behind him.
"Oh, hey Mister Doctor P." Ron sheepishly replied, lightly tugging at his collar, which suddenly seemed to have shrunk two sizes. "I was just… ahhhhh… ummmm… ho boy."
"Don't worry about it, Ronald." The elder man said reassuringly. "And remember what I said about calling me 'dad' from now on."
"Oh yeah, right… Mister… uh… dad."
"Your learning." James chuckled, sensing the boy's minor discomfort.
"But wait… Shouldn't we be waiting until after the ceremony for me to be calling you that?" Ron asked, returning the blade to its previous form and gently sliding it into its scabbard.
"A minor technicality, Ronald. When you think about it, you've practically been a member of this family for years."
"Hmmm… Yeah, I guess you kinda have a point there."
James Possible simply smiled as he regarded the strapping, barrel-chested young man standing before him. Taking it all in, he couldn't help but be amazed at the changes Ron had undergone. In all likelihood, he had to admit, the changes had been occurring for some time now. It was just that with how often he saw the boy, he had failed to notice. Having Ron as a guest in his house on an almost daily basis over the years, he had come to take his presence for granted. Truthfully, the comings and goings of the boy and his daughter barely registered as a reason to look up from his paper.
In fact, for years he had barely even thought of him as a "boy" at all. He had always been, quite simply, Ron: A genderless figure in James's eyes, immune to the scrutiny normally bestowed upon Kimberly's so-called "boyfriends," even with as few and far-between as they may have been.
Questions of Ron's masculinity, however, were not why the brown-haired scientist was standing there at that particular moment. There were far more important matters to discuss with the young man before him, and there wasn't a great deal of time to discuss them in. He needed to cut to the chase.
"Ronald, come sit with me for a moment please?" James asked, moving toward the sofa that occupied the far side of the room.
Confused, but dutiful as ever, Ron complied, carefully repositioning the sword on his waist as he took a seat next to his soon-to-be father-in-law.
"Ronald," James sighed, carefully choosing his words. "Before our families are officially merged, I wanted to thank you for everything you've done over the years."
"Meh… Don't mention it, Doctor… Dad." Ron replied with a smile and a dismissive shrug. "Oh, and just out of curiosity… What did I do?"
"The way you've always looked after Kimmie-cub is what." James explained. "The way you've always stood beside her… It's… it's something that I can't ever thank you enough for."
"Ah, that." Ron said, nonchalantly. "Ya' know, truth be told, we've always sort of looked out for each other. As Kim would say, it's 'no big.'"
"That's where you're wrong, Ronald." James insisted. "It is a 'big.'"
"How do you mean, exactly?"
"Let me try to explain the situation, Ronald." James stated, leaning forward and folding his hands thoughtfully under his chin. "Ever since you and Kimmie met, you've been a nearly constant fixture in her life. You've never been anything but supportive, always been willing to do anything for her, and you've shown her a loyalty and devotion that, quite frankly, would put Lassie to shame. Of all the boys she's known, you're the only one that I've ever truly considered to be worthy of her.
"Over the years, I've watched her grow from a shy little girl in pigtails, into a strong and independent young woman with a heart as big as all outdoors, and I don't think she would have ever made it this far if she hadn't had you in her life. You're probably the best thing that's ever happened to her, outside of her immediate family, and I just wanted you to know that."
"Oh. C'mon, dad…" Ron said with a dismissive wave, clearly touched by the display, but still doubting the content of the message. "KP is a tough girl… We both know that. I'm sure she would've pulled through just fine without me."
"Don't be too willing to bet money on that, son." James replied, slouching backward into the couch with a sigh.
"Not being a father, I wouldn't expect you to understand." He continued, trying to impart some sort of larger perspective to the younger man seated beside him. "Someday, if you're lucky enough to have a daughter of your own, then you will, but until then you'll just have to take my word on this." He sighed again before plunging ahead.
"You bring a child into this world, Ronald, and the gravity of responsibility hits you like a falling meteorite. You realize what's now required of you, the task of shaping and molding a new life, and so you throw yourself into that task with all the love and strength you can muster. You try to teach her right from wrong, and to appreciate the value of helping people, and of always doing the right thing. You make your fair share of miss-steps and mistakes along the way, but you learn from these experiences, and you try to make her the best person you know how to be.
"But then time goes by, and she starts to apply those lessons that you spent so much time teaching her. You're glad to see that your efforts weren't in vain, but at the same time you're worried because those same lessons are continually taking her farther and farther from home; farther and farther away from the protection and shelter you so desperately want to offer her.
"You sometimes find yourself lying awake at night, wondering if you somehow made a mistake: If it would have been better to have taught her to be selfish and shy, and to never stray too far from home.
"Ultimately, however, you figure that this wouldn't have been right, as it would've deprived the world of something truly wonderful. But still, the fact remains that she's constantly drifting farther and farther away from you, and that in the end, the only thing you can hope for is that she will find someone who can take your place at her side: Someone who will offer her all the love and protection that you know she deserves, but can no longer provide.
"You are that someone, Ronald. Just like me, you've never wanted anything but what was best for her, and were always willing to do anything to see that she got it. You're willing to both live and die for her, God forbid that should ever become necessary, and you'll do it all at the drop of a hat."
He glanced over to make eye contact with Ron, who was by now sitting forward in his seat, silent as a statue, letting the gravity of James's words slowly sink in. Clearly, he had grabbed the boy's attention, and now it was time to drive the point home.
"I know this goes without saying, Ronald, but I still feel compelled to ask…" James concluded, slowly rising to his feet as he held back unshed tears…
"Take care of my little girl for me, please?"
For a brief moment, a deathly silence filled the room, each man pondering the significance of what had just been said. Then, without so much as a word, Ron stood up to face the Possible patriarch, drew himself to full attention, and saluted.
"It will be my honor, sir!" he replied in the most official and dramatic tone he could muster.
A wave of relief crashing over him, James stepped forward to embrace the uniformed figure before him, feeling nothing by pure contentment at the thought that his only daughter would be left in such capable hands.
"You have no idea how much it means to us, having you in the family, Ronald." James wistfully admitted.
"You know, dad…" Ron broke in, "We're probably the two luckiest guys in the world."
"How so?"
"We've both had the privilege to love and be loved by the best woman in the world."
James could only smile at this. To spite his easily distracted mind, Ron sometimes had the uncanny ability to see right through to the simple heart of things.
"And speaking of said woman," James said, turning toward the door, "I need to go get ready to give Kimmie-cub away. I'll see you in front."
"I wouldn't miss it for the world." Ron wistfully replied.
"Oh, and if Morticia Adams should drop by," James added, gesturing toward the vase full of now bloomless stems, "she can have those."
"Heh-heh, yeaaaahhh…" Ron sighed, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. "You know the amazing Ronco Vegi-matic. It chops, grates, cuts, slices, dices twice as nice as, blah… blah… blah…"
James chuckled lightly as he closed the door behind him. Even after all the years and everything that had happened between their families, the boy was still the same old whimsical Ronald he had always known.
Contrary to any impressions that one may get from watching the five o'clock news, the Christian and Jewish traditions have a great deal in common. While scenes of sectarian violence and bloodshed throughout Europe and the Middle East may be the political norm, the two faiths share much more than most people realize. They share a common origin, a common set of values, a common oral and written tradition, and the list goes on from there.
If it is living proof of the intimate connection between these two great and ancient faiths that one seeks, then one need look no further than the organization of an interfaith wedding. The traditions and procedures match so closely in so many ways, that they both seem to have been pulled from the same style guide.
Not that any of this was an overly big deal, in this case. Being people of science, James and Anne Possible had never found much use for religion in their own lives. Although some may have considered them to be technically Catholic, this was merely a function of their Irish ancestry. It just didn't hold any real meaning for them in the "here-and-now."
For Ron's family, the story wasn't much different. While the family did officially consider themselves to be Jewish, and did attend Temple at least semi-regularly, the routine seemed to be more about procedure and formality than actual belief or spiritual conviction. It was more of a ploy to keep up appearances and honor the old family traditions than anything else. The religious aspects of the faith itself were secondary to this outward façade.
As one would expect in such circumstances, the church sanctuary this day was decorated in such a way as to pay homage to both of these traditions, without strictly adhering either of them. A broad, white sheet had been suspended from the rafters over the altar, representing the "chupah:" The tent under which Jewish weddings have traditionally been conducted for centuries, while conversely, the Bride's family was seated to the left side of the aisle: A nod to the Christian tradition.
The decorations were a dazzling array of red roses and white lace, with overflowing vases placed throughout the room, their pungent aroma filling both the space and the noses of all those who were present. Smaller bunches of roses, mixed with red and white carnations, were tied with lace and hung tenderly from the end of each pew. It was a truly breathtaking sight, but in an understated and elegant sort of way.
In a way, the lack of religious iconography and gaudy decorations was a calculated decision. It had been agreed to by all the parties involved, that this occasion would not be about matters of ceremony, divine authority or ostentatious presentation: This was about the two people who would be standing at the front of the room this day. It was a celebration of the momentous love that they shared for one another, and of all the wondrous joy that this love entailed. Neither flash nor sizzle nor pomp nor circumstance would be the focus of this most wonderful day of days. All focus would be upon the happy couple, and on nothing else. This was their day.
As the crowd mulled about aimlessly, chatting amongst them selves, Rabbi Katz stood front and center, looking out across the sea of humanity before him. The front row was, as expected, a place of honor, reserved for family members only. To one side of the aisle, Anne Possible was simply beaming with a smile that threatened to split her face in two. Beside her, the white-haired form of James's mother sat regarding her daughter-in-law through familiar rectangular glasses, silently pleading for Anne to contain herself while trying desperately to avoid breaking out in a goofy grin of her own.
Beside the elderly matriarch sat her other son, his distinctive mustache and ten gallon hat indicating to all present that he was very much from out of town. To Slim Possible, a cowboy's hat was like a second skin: He simply never left home without it.
To the other side of the aisle, Ronald's parents were making a very poor job of concealing their anxiety. Jean was fidgeting like a five-year-old attending her first day of kindergarten, although she managed to look stunning while doing it in her well-appointed designer dress.
Gene, on the other hand, looked as though he was about to jump right out of his poorly fitting rental tux. With sleeves too long, a cummerbund too tight and a style that was at least ten years out of date, it was easy to see how Ronald had wound up attending his Junior Prom wearing that powder-blue abomination to fashion. Eugene Stoppable may have been a whiz in the world of math and accounting, but when it came to fashion sense, he was definitely just a few variables short of an equation.
From this forward-most point of the church, running back along either side of the aisle for six rows, a small contingent of uniformed men sat, holding positions at the end of each pew. These individuals represented a small contingent from Ron's unit, and while their placement was cause for curiosity amongst the other guests, it was not without a purpose.
Flanking both sides of the Rabbi's position stood two groups of young adults in coordinated outfits, and he stroked his short, brown beard thoughtfully as he recalled meeting these young individuals during the rehearsal dinner. Immediately to his right stood the maid of honor, a beautiful ebony-skinned girl who had been Kimberly's best friend, (aside from the groom, of course), throughout high school and beyond. Next to her stood the bride's cousin, who could easily be mistaken for her older and more famous relative, provided one didn't take the time to look too carefully. Beyond this younger red-head stood two more young women: Former members of the Middleton cheer squad, one with platinum blond curls and the other with shoulder-length brown hair and a well-tanned complexion.
Shifting his glance to the left, Jerry Katz regarded the groom's men, who at the moment were standing restlessly at attention, displaying the easily distracted state that young men are often so prone to encounter.
The best man could hardly be called a man at all. In fact, when you really took a close look at him, he appeared as though he wouldn't even begin shaving for another six months. But looks can be deceiving, however, and the good Rabbi knew better. In reality, the young, African-American man possessed a technical aptitude and intellect that would be the envy of so-called experts forty years his senior, and presided over a self-built global surveillance network that would easily put any intelligence agency in the world to shame.
Beyond the young super-genius stood, or rather sat, a brown-haired, aqua-eyed young man in a wheelchair that looked as though it could have been designed by the man-child standing next to him. Truth be told, however, the young man didn't really need Wade's technical skills. He had virtually unlimited access to the worlds most advanced cyber-robotic technologies, as well as the genetic background to back it up.
Beyond this young man stood two hulking forms. Although Jerry Katz had not caught their names, he knew them to be former members of the Middleton High football team, and by virtue of that, former teammates of Ronald. From the excessive size of these two young men, Jerry surmised that they must have played in the offensive line, and making them groomsmen was undoubtedly Ronald's way of saying "thank-you." After all, if it hadn't been for their efforts, the young Mr. Stoppable would have probably long ago been eaten by a 240-pound linebacker with one eye and steel teeth.
The crowd was filling in nicely by this point, with Kimberly's younger brothers serving as ushers, leading the last of the guests to their seats. The younger Possibles had performed their duties flawlessly this day, although Jerry couldn't help but wonder what they had up their neatly pressed sleeves. He had come to be somewhat familiar with Ronald's soon-to-be brother-in-laws over the past few months, and if he had learned anything about them, it was that they weren't the types to let a good prank opportunity pass them by. Whatever they were going to pull, he just hoped the Possible's insurance would cover it.
Continuing his line of thought, Jerry began to take careful note of the emergency exit locations when the relative calm of the room was abruptly shattered.
"Officer on deck!" the shout rang out, and several uniformed individuals in the crowd suddenly rose to their feet. As displays went, it was both confusing and unexpected, but the reasons behind it became abundantly clear when everyone on the altar glanced to their left.
Jerry Katz's double take was so violent that it nearly dislodged his yarmulke when he recognized the figure that had just entered the sanctuary from the church rectory. It was hard for him to believe that this dashing, uniformed young man was the same lanky, awkward boy whom he had bar mitzvahed eight years prior, and whom he had watched grow up for even longer than that. Instead of the familiar, slouched image of a young man in baggy pants and a threadbare hockey jersey, there stood a radiant image of maturity and authority. The immaculate dress uniform looked as though it had been cast onto him, and everywhere along its length was the glint of gold and silver. Brass buttons shone like mirrors, and the gentle sway of the medals on his breast randomly caught the light filtering through stained-glass windows, causing momentary flashes to dance across the room. He stood tall and proud, carefully surveying the room with all the poise and dignity of a General reviewing his troops.
"As you were." Ron finally and casually stated, causing all those who had stood to retake their seats. He then paused briefly to adjust his cuffs before making the short walk to the altar, taking his position between the Rabbi and Wade.
"Lookin' good there, Ron." Wade casually observed, leaning ever-so-slightly in Ron's direction.
"Thanks dude." Ron replied, checking the front of his coat once more.
"How many tries did it take you to get the tie straight this time?"
"Fourteen. You know, I think I'm actually starting to get the hang of it now."
"Yeeeeaaah." Wade replied, rolling his eyes slightly. "So how are you feeling so far?"
"To be honest, I think the G-suit is actually more comfortable."
"Well that's just strange, but I was thinking more in terms of the ceremony."
"The ceremony? I'm totally psyched! Why? Should I be worried about something?"
"Well, no… It's just that… I kinda pictured you being a nervous wreck, and all that."
"Why the heck should I be nervous? Wait! There's not a problem with the caterer, is there? Oh please, PLEASE tell me that they weren't out of double marble fudge cake!"
"No, no Ron… just amp down for a sec! There's no reason, really. It's just sort of traditional for the groom to be mildly freaked in these situations, and with your propensity toward freaking…"
"I so do not have a propensity toward freaking."
"Two words: 'Tree Spiders.'"
"Gah-hah… Okay, point taken."
"Anyway, my point is that I just kinda expected to see you coming apart at the seams here."
"Wade, Wade, Wade…" Ron chided. "Totally different sitch we're dealing with here, my friend. Marrying Kim is like the biggest no-brainer in the world. I've never been this sure about anything before."
"Does that include your theory that fruit roll-ups were really just a blend of silly putty and Kool-Aid?"
"Well how the heck was I supposed to know that the FDA actually keeps records on that stuff? But anyway, the point is that I couldn't be any more sure of what I'm about to do. There's just nothing to be nervous about."
"Way to be, my man. Way to be." Wade smiled, gently bumping congratulatory fists with his friend. After all, he knew that Ron's assessment of the situation was right on the money. He may have been a died-in-the-wool computer geek with little to no understanding of matters involving human social interaction, but even he could tell that if two people were ever destined to be together, it was his two closest friends. It was something as fundamental and elemental as the laws of physics themselves: It was just the way that the universe was arranged.
Any further thoughts regarding the science of love were abruptly put on hold, however, as the music that filled the chapel suddenly changed. All eyes turned toward the back of the room as the two large, ornately carved doors swung open to reveal… nothing.
A series of confused murmurs quickly swept through the assembled as people tried to make sense of this unexpected turn of events. Confusion slowly turned to understanding, however, as the nature of the situation became clear. Unbeknownst to many at first, a small figure began making its way toward the front of the church, virtually hidden from view as its pink, hairless form was dwarfed by the assembly of oaken pews, invited guests, and the object it was now carrying.
Slowly and deliberately making his way to the front, Rufus carried the red satin pillow high above his head, its payload of two, glimmering gold rings safely ensconced within its center. To spite his status as a mere rodent is some peoples eyes, his above-average intelligence allowed him appreciate both the significance of this moment, and honor that his role bestowed upon him. The two people whom he considered to be "his humans" were pledging their lives to each other, and the cargo that he now carried was the instrument by which this blessed union would be sealed. He had been entrusted to hold a sacred honor on a sacred day, and nothing in the world would cause him to let his cherished humans down.
Holding his charge high and proud above his head, the tiny mole rat finally made his way up the steps an onto the altar, taking up his designated position to one side of Rabbi Katz. Gently, he placed the pillow on the floor before him and snapped himself to attention, the brass buttons of his tiny uniform glinting in the filtered light of the room. He chanced a glance up toward his owner, and flashed a tiny "thumbs up" before returning his stoic gaze forward, leaving Ron to wonder just how such a gesture was possible for a creature without thumbs.
Any further thoughts on the subject of rodent dexterity were put on hold, however, as all eyes swung to the back of the church once again, this time to gaze upon the vestige of a smiling five year old in a pink satin dress, making her way toward the front, dropping fresh rose petals as she went.
For Ron, seeing his adoptive little sister in this light was the first real confirmation he had ever received that little Hanna wasn't so little anymore, and the knowledge set his mind reeling. It seemed like only yesterday he was freaking out about "the intruder" taking his place in his parents' home and banishing him to the attic like an unused piece of furniture. In reality, however, it had been over five years since that time, and the dark-haired, Asian beauty that his parents had brought home that day had changed remarkably in that time.
Oh heck… Who was he trying to kid? They'd all changed in that time. It was just that with her youth, Hanna's changes were more pronounced.
There was no doubt that the little girl was growing up, and that knowledge instantly took some of the edge off of his upbeat attitude. There was a sense of joy and hope for the future carried within that knowledge, but also a sense of loss: A knowing that soon her world would expand, growing to encompass friends and school and any number of activities that wouldn't include him. Soon her big brother would no longer be the center of her universe, and the sadness this solitary thought caused was almost palpable.
His mind fluttered back to the words Kim's father had spoken only a few minutes before, and he was surprised at how they had suddenly taken on a whole new meaning. It was true what he himself had once said to Kim, that growing up sometimes meant growing apart, and James Possible's words about caring for someone enough to let them go now rang truer than he had ever dreamed possible.
He couldn't even imagine having the same experience with a daughter of his own, or perhaps he simply didn't want to right now. In either case, he felt himself shedding an inward tear, from either sadness of joy, he knew not which.
Another change in the music brought his mind back to the present, directing the crowd's attention to the back of the room once again. When Ron's gaze settled, his heart skipped a beat.
The sight… no… the vision his eyes beheld was that of a shimmering angel, trailing all the wonders of heaven itself in her wake. Silhouetted against the bright light of the foyer, the dress seemed to flow off of her lithe form as if she had been born to wear it. The embroidery and pearling shone ever so slightly, and even through the material of the veil a pair of piercing green eyes were clearly visible. She was absolutely radiant, he thought to himself, and he wondered what he had ever done to warrant heaven sending him an angel such as this.
As the familiar chords of the bridal march filled the room, a faint smattering of irony crossed Ron's mind. Although a staple at Christian weddings for many years, the song had a dark history that normally prevented it from being played during Jewish ceremonies.
A product of the legendary composer Richard Wagner, the tune ranked along side other Wagner masterpieces such as the Faust Overture and the Siegfried Idyll. However, the legendary composer was also known for having an anti-Semitic streak a mile wide, and was a personal favorite of Adolf Hitler himself. Needless to say, his music left a bad taste in the mouths of many people.
For Ron, however, none of this mattered. To him, there was just no real connection between the man's music and his politics. And besides, you couldn't stop people from having their opinions. Even when those opinions are born of woeful ignorance, attempting to alter their content will net you little more than a bad case of ulcers. In the end, he had learned to simply let such things roll off of his back without paying them any real attention. Fretting about it simply wasn't worth his time.
And time was certainly a relative concept at this moment, as the scene before Ron's eyes was playing out in a slow-motion sequence. Kim was making her way down the aisle, her pace slow and tempered, perfectly matching the cadence of the music, her arm tenderly threaded through her father's. Her eyes shone through the fine mesh of the veil, illuminating the entire room as she walked, expressing all of the hope and excitement promised by a lifetime spent beside the one person in the world with whom she truly belonged.
Ron could only gaze back in awestruck silence, his own eyes reflecting the hope and joy that he saw in hers. As Kim and her father took the final few steps to stand at the base of the altar, an unspoken message passed between the husband and wife to be: The path that they had started down so many years ago was now just moments away from completion, and with its conclusion came a new beginning, promising so much more than they had ever experienced before. This was their crossroads: A magical nexus where their collective past met a bright future, with one merging seamlessly into the other. It was the start of an entirely new adventure, and just as was always the case, they would be together for the duration, facing both joy and adversity, trials and tribulations, hand in hand and side by side all the while.
"Who gives this woman to be wed?" Rabbi Katz inquired, following the age-old tradition of the ceremony.
"Her mother, myself, and American Express." James Possible replied flatly, eliciting a smattering of giggles from the crowd, and a blush from his daughter that was visible even through the veil that still obscured her face. From his position on the Altar, Ron could swear that his bride-to-be momentarily rolled her eyes.
Then, James gently lifted his daughter's veil, gazing into the face that was so much like her mother's. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek as the gravity of the situation hit him, and he realized that this was truly the end of an era. These were the last moments when she would be his little girl. From now on, she would no longer be his little Kimmie-cub: She would be Ronald's wife, and although he had long told himself that this moment was inevitable, he still felt as though a part of himself was being taken away forever.
Such is the quandary that has faced fathers of daughters since the dawn of time, and no one, not even a rocket scientist, is immune.
Slowly, as if trying to draw this one moment out for all eternity, he kissed her gently on the cheek, and lowered the veil back over her face. He held his breath as she flashed him a radiant smile that seemed to warm his very soul, before turning and taking the final few steps to stand beside her betrothed. James held his breath as Ronald offered his hand to Kimberly, guiding her into position beside him, and the brown-haired scientist suddenly found himself choking back a river of tears.
Unsure of his ability to hold back the wave of emotion that was now rampaging through him, James swallowed hard, turned around, and walked briskly back to sit beside Anne in the church's front row. If he was going to loose it, he didn't want it to be in full view of the entire congregation.
Anne simply placed one arm around his shoulders, and her free hand over his. She knew what he was going through, she told herself silently. Kimberly was her little girl too, after all, and the same paradoxical feelings of joy and loss were hers to experience as well, playing out as a violin concerto across her heartstrings. This was a day of mixed emotions for both of them, but in the end it was a joyous occasion, and they both knew it, even if their collective emotions hadn't entirely received the message as of yet.
"If there is anyone here who objects to the marriage of these two people, let him speak now, or forever hold his peace." Rabbi Katz clearly stated in an official tone.
At that moment, Kim and Ron both held their collective breaths. They were beyond certain that they had the blessing of all their friends and family, so there was no reason for worry there. However, through the course of their world-saving adventures, they had both acquired more than their fair share of enemies, and some of those unsavory characters might not be above exacting a cruel form of vengeance by ruining this: the happiest day of their young lives.
When the only response to the Rabbi's challenge was silence, both of them released their breaths in a heavy sigh. It was one more hurdle cleared.
The good Rabbi carried on now, plunging into a sermon about the storied traditions and deeper meanings of marriage, and of the significance that such things still held in the modern world. For the two young people who now stood facing each other, however, there was not a word being spoken. In this place, their collective world shrank to a small sphere encompassing only them and the love that they shared. The Rabbi, the crowd, the church, and indeed reality itself now faded away into nothingness leaving only them, gazing deeply into each other's eyes, realizing that the world outside need not exist, as its existence was unnecessary to them. All either of them would ever need, or could ever want, was standing right there in front of them. They were each other's world.
For Ron, the world contained within those fiery, emerald-green orbs was one that he couldn't imagine himself not being a part of. For nearly as long as he could remember, she was the one who had always been there. She had tolerated his quirks and phobias, even perhaps coming to embrace them, at times when it seemed no one else would. She had stood by him, never wavering in her offer of friendship, even when his social skills utterly failed him, and it seemed as though he didn't have another friend in the world.
And when they had officially entered the realm of adolescence, and the ability to be "cool" became paramount in its importance, she had remained steadfastly by his side. She was willing to ignore all of his flaws, even when it became painfully clear that "coolness" would simply never be part of his repertoire.
Childhood and adolescence are perhaps the most trying times in any person's life, and Ronald Eugene Stoppable knew that his experiences had been more trying than most. But still, no matter how cruel life and his peers might have been toward him, he always knew that Kim would be there. She was the one person he could always count on to show him kindness and compassion when it seemed as though the entire world was out to get him, and he understood that without her, growing up would have been a very lonely, very unhappy experience.
For Kim, the experience was much the same.
Gazing into those shimmering, cocoa-brown pools, she saw the face of true devotion. For nearly as long as she could remember, he was the one who had always been there. He was her biggest supporter, her most loyal companion, and the one she could always talk to, no matter what the subject, without fear of being judged or belittled. He had in turn been a confidante, an advisor, a therapist, a study-buddy, a sidekick, a partner and a lover. He had been a source of hope when all seemed lost.
Growing up the only daughter of a world-renowned rocket scientist and brain surgeon, the pressure to excel had been stifling. The fact that this pressure was for the most part self-imposed mattered little, as pressure from within can often be the most crushing of all: There is no way to discount or ignore the source. From as soon as she was old enough to comprehend such things, she had always strived to succeed, pushing herself to ever and ever greater levels of achievement. She spent her days driving herself onward, setting goals, meeting them, then setting even more, and she spent her nights laying awake, consumed by a fear that all of her efforts might one day prove to be in vain.
It would have been enough to drive a lesser person crazy. It would have driven her crazy, if not for one simple fact: She had Ron.
For in Ron, she had an emotional center: Someone who would alternately cheer her onward, lending enthusiastic and unconditional support to whatever endeavor she may attempt, and offer heartfelt sympathy whenever things didn't go the way she wanted. When the stress of growing up seemed too great a burden to bear, she would talk to Ron, confiding all of her hopes and dreams and fears and concerns to him. Occasionally he would offer suggestions, bringing his own refreshing perspective to the subject, but most often he would simply listen. For hours at a time he would sit there, silent as a statue, accepting part of her burden as his own, and making her trials and tribulations that much easier as a result. He was her rock… her anchor in a storm-tossed sea… and when events turned her world up-side down, and she felt that her life was spinning out of control, he was the one thing she could count on to always be there… guiding her back to the shelter of the harbor: A lighthouse beacon of familiarity and welcoming warmth.
Even when the missions started, Ron had been there. In desperate situations, with every fiber of his being screaming at him to turn and run, he somehow managed to push his fears down into the pit of his gut and stand his ground. To spite not having any appreciable skills or talents or equipment of his own, and facing the threat of eminent death on all sides, he remained by her side, rooted in his pledge to always have her back, no matter what the consequences to himself, nor how dire the situation may become.
He had always been there for her, even when she wasn't aware that he was, and it was an unspoken, undeniable truth that he always would be there, right up until his dying day.
They could have gone on like this forever, just the two of them, lost in each other's loving gaze, but reality and the Rabbi had other plans.
"Ahem! I said, 'do you have the rings?'" Rabbi Katz spoke up, drawing the happy couple's attention. Kim and Ron both looked at the bearded gentleman and shared a joint blush. They had both been so caught up in the moment that neither one of them had noticed the Rabbi finish his speech.
"Oh yeah… Little round shiny things, right?" Ron stammered, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.
"Yes, those would be them, Ronald." Katz smiled back.
Rufus slapped a tiny paw over his face and squeaked dejectedly.
"Oh yeah. Like you've never gotten lost in a moment before." Ron whispered to his pet as he bent down to delicately pluck the two rings off of their satin perch. The little mole rat simply raised an eyebrow as if to say, "Not like this, I haven't."
Ron smiled sheepishly as he handed the two glimmering items to the Rabbi, who returned the smile with a much warmer one of his own.
"The ring is an ancient and sacred symbol." Rabbi Katz began. "Its circular form represents eternity, showing no sign of a beginning, nor an ending. The luminescent glow of its surface represents the promise of life and love that we all seek.
"Ronald and Kimberly, it is important for you both to always remember that these two rings I now hold represent far more than simple jewelry. For as beautiful as they may be, they symbolize something far more beautiful than any mere piece of sculpted metal: They symbolize the bond of love that you share, and that you now stand poised to consecrate before God and all the world."
The Rabbi now paused to purposefully make eye contact with both of the young people before him, continuing once he was sure he held their undivided attention.
"But like anything truly worth having, love is seldom easy. Far from the storybook tales of love at first sight and 'happily-ever-afters,' a marriage takes work: It demands that certain sacrifices be made.
"Ronald, for you this means that from this day forward, you will be responsible for two lives… not merely your own. You will support your wife whole-heartedly, always providing for her needs, and often placing those needs above your own. You will be her foundation in this world, providing stability and sustenance in all the forms that such things may take."
Katz couldn't help but smile slightly as he finished his words. For anyone in the room who knew the young couple, also knew that such a statement was wholly unnecessary. Ron had been Kim's foundation in this way for as long as anyone could remember, and it was unlikely that anything short of death itself could ever prevent him from executing this duty.
But still, a wedding ceremony is something stepped in tradition, and that tradition dictated that such things be made mention of, even if it all was simply stating the obvious.
"Kimberly," the Rabbi continued, "for you this means supporting your husband, always remaining faithfully by his side, no matter what the trials and tribulations of this world may bring. You will be his anchor in this world, providing support and encouragement, both in times of plenty, and in times of hardship."
Kim smiled warmly beneath her veil, thinking that there was nothing she'd rather spend the rest of her life doing. A lifetime spent at Ron's side: Now that was truly a slice of heaven on earth.
"Now, in keeping with the tradition of many modern couples," Katz stated aloud, "Ronald and Kimberley have decided to write their own vows." He passed the rings to each of the two young people standing before him and nodded, indicating that it was OK to proceed.
Ron momentarily cast his eyes downward, staring intently at the simple gold band that he now held in the palm of his hand, seemingly trying to divine some greater meaning of the universe from its gleaming form. He ran his thumb around its circumference, allowing the coolness of the metal to play itself out across his bare skin. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Then, opening his eyes and smiling brightly, he reached out to take both of Kim's hands in his, never breaking eye contact with his betrothed. Kim quickly felt her own capable hands being fairly engulfed by Ron's tremendous paws, and felt her very soul being wrapped in the radiant warmth of his smile. All the riches of the world couldn't bring her to take her eyes off of him as he breathed deeply once again and began to speak.
"Kimberley… My darling K.P…" he began. "We've known each other for as long as I can remember, and in that time, I have always considered it my greatest honor to stand by your side, and call you my friend. To have your back, regardless of circumstance, has always been my mission and my promise in this world. You are my shining star… My north, south, east and west. You are the reason for my existence."
Raising one hand to maneuver the ring between his thumb and forefinger, he rotated the small object slowly, taking a long, almost philosophical look at it before continuing.
"I take great pride in saying that for as long as we've been together, I have never left your side, and I hope that I may never stop saying this for as long as we both continue to exist upon this earth. For this reason, I now give you this ring, as a symbol of my love for you. It symbolizes my promise and my commitment to always be there for you, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, regardless of circumstance, for as long as we both may live. It is a physical manifestation of my hope for the future, and of my promise to always love you unconditionally. This is my promise to you."
Then, without another word, he slipped the ring onto her outstretched finger. It fit snugly to be sure, but not so much as to be tight or uncomfortable. Overall, it was a perfect fit for her, just like the person who had placed it there.
Staring deeply into those chocolate-brown pools, Kim could feel herself getting lost all over again. It was a view that she felt she could look at forever, but reality sadly had other plans. A nearly inaudible grunt from Rabbi Katz snapped her out of her trance, reminding her that this particular portion of the ceremony was only half over. She still needed to recite her own vows if she was going to officially become Ron's wife.
Looking down in awestruck silence, her gaze quickly shifted between the ring that now adorned her slender finger, and the one she still held in the palm of her hand. She quietly swallowed, saying a quick prayer that she wouldn't forget her lines in all the excitement. Then, with a deep breath, she plunged ahead.
"Ronald… My darling Ronnie…" she began. "For as long as I've known you, it has brought me both pride and joy to call you my friend. Through thick and thin, you were always the one person I could count on, even when it seemed as though the entire world had turned against me. You were there to share in the joy of my greatest triumphs, and to ease the pain of my most spectacular failures. Even when I lost sight of what was truly important in my life, and I treated you poorly, you still stood by me, refusing to turn your back on me even when I gave you every reason in the world to do just that.
"Over time, I have come to rely on your simple presence, so much so in fact that I now find it difficult to imagine a life that didn't involve you in some way… or perhaps I simply don't want to. Perhaps that is because I deem such a life to be no life at all. I realize that my life has been more turbulent than most, so much so that at times even I find it difficult to keep up, but throughout it all, you have been the one constant. You are my rock… My center… You are the light of my very life."
Now it was her turn to gaze upon the simple gold band that she held between her fingers. It was amazing to think, she mused, that something so simple in its design could embody something so monumental; so fundamentally significant. It seemed to defy all logic… But then again, love was something that usually did just that.
"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love for you." She continued. "It symbolizes my promise and my commitment to always be there for you, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, regardless of circumstance, for as long as we both may live. It symbolizes my promise to return the loyalty you have shown me, to always stand faithfully beside you, and to support you in the way that you have always supported me. To share our life together… taking your burdens as my own… sharing your joys as my own… pledging my life to you as you have pledged yours to me… walking the path of life with you until my dying day. This is my promise to you."
Then, reaching out across the space between them, she deftly slipped the ring onto his finger and gazed deeply into his eyes once again, drinking in the view through the wonderful windows of his soul. She could see her entire future, her entire world reflected in those beautiful brown orbs… And what a wonderful world it was.
Now it was Rabbi Katz's turn to become lost in the moment. Throughout all the years he had spent as a servant of God, he had performed perhaps more weddings than he could count. But still, even with all of that experience not withstanding, there was something different about the young couple now standing in front of him. One could plainly see it in the way they looked at each other: The volumes of unspoken communication flowing between them like a river, the strength of the bond they shared, the sheer depth of the love they held for one another, it was all something truly special, and it was unlike anything that Jerry Katz had ever seen before.
Mentally slapping himself for becoming distracted at such an important moment, Jerry took a deep breath and spoke the words that all those assembled had come to hear.
"By the power invested in me by the state of Colorado, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Ronald, you may now kiss your bride."
This was the moment that they both, and indeed everyone in the room, had been waiting for. Lifting her veil lightly, Ron took careful note of how Kim's eyes seemed to sparkle more intensely than he could ever remember them sparkling before. There was passion in those eyes: A passion that went far beyond the feeble ability of mere words to express. It was a passion that burned so strong and so true that it defied both description and comprehension, as intense and unchanging as an elemental force of nature.
As Ron cupped her cheeks in his hands, Kim closed her eyes and lifted her chin slightly, reveling in the momentary sensation of his warm breath wafting lazily across her face. It was the most wonderful sensation, she would later recall, but it paled in comparison to what happened next.
As their lips met, an incredible rush surged through her entire body. Her mind spun and her senses dimmed as the synapses of her brain were overwhelmed by the onrushing emotional torrent. She could feel it… all of the love he held for her… all of his longing and devotion… flowing out of him… coursing through her like a raging river. It flowed swiftly and directly, washing away any doubts or insecurities that may have lingered, filling her heart with a warmth and contentment that few are ever fortunate enough to experience. She could feel herself being caught up in that river, her very soul being swept downstream by the current while simultaneously being carried aloft on a gossamer cloud of rapturous bliss. She was both flying and being swept away, her spirit soaring in ways that she never dreamed possible. She was the essence of joy, a force of nature, she was a fire and a storm wind, and the only name she would ever know, or would ever need to know, was his.
They had shared kisses before to be sure, but this one left all of the others in the proverbial dust. This was by far the most heartfelt, most passionate, most awe-inspiringly emotional moment that either of them had ever experienced, or anticipated that they would ever experience again. It was the moment that they both now knew they had been building toward for the past 19 years, even if they hadn't realized it for most of that time.
Finding themselves caught up in the moment once again, neither of them wanted it to end. If they could have lived their entire lives in this way, then they would undoubtedly have done so, but just as before, reality came calling in the form of a subdued grunt from the bespectacled and bearded man standing before them.
The young couple shared a joint blush as they gradually and reluctantly parted, neither one truly willing to break it off. Then it was time for the words that they had spent so many months waiting to hear.
"It is my distinct honor to present to you, Mister and Missus Ronald Eugene Stoppable!" Rabbi Katz enthusiastically shouted, prompting everyone in the room to cheer in such a way that the very foundations of the building seemed to shake.
Taking Ron's offered arm, Kim and her newly anointed husband turned to face the jubilant crowd, both of them deeply touched by the show of support. To know that so many people were pulling for them, sharing in the joy of this day, meant more to them than any post-mission thank you or returned favor could ever mean.
"So, are you ready to get started on the rest of our lives, Missus Kimberly Anne Stoppable?" Ron whispered, leaning in close to his new wife.
"Born ready." Kim softly replied, beaming a radiant smile as she looked out over the still-cheering crowd. "Look out future, 'cause here come the Stoppables!"
Then, standing tall and proud, arm in arm, they took their first steps as a married couple.
Starting down the steps from the alter, Kim momentarily hesitated as the uniformed individuals who had been seated along the aisle suddenly stood, turned to face on another, and briskly drew their swords. For an instant, the sound of raucous applause was mixed with the shrill whine of metal scraping across metal as the gleaming weapons were pulled forth from their scabbards.
For an instant, she was unsure whether to keep walking, or drop into a defensive crouch. A reassuring squeeze of her arm from Ron, however, quickly put her mind at ease, and a moment later she saw why.
Drawing their weapons fully from the scabbards on their hips, the men quickly flipped the blades vertical and brought the hilts to their chins in a ceremonial salute. Then, with a snapping motion, they thrust the tips of the weapons outward and upward until they met high above the center of the aisle, forming a sort of glinting, metallic archway.
"I thought only the Marines did that?" Kim whispered to Ron as they resumed their walk, passing beneath the canopy of shimmering steel.
"That's the Eagles for ya'." Ron casually replied as they continued walking. "We only steal from the best."
Striding swiftly through what was quickly becoming a standing ovation, the two young lovers soon found themselves at the back of the sanctuary, the ornately carved oak doors standing open, flooding the room with light and beckoning the two of them onward toward a future that seemed filled with nothing but promise.
But to spite that promise, Kim suddenly felt compelled to pull up short, roughly jerking Ron backward as she did so. He shot her a confused expression, but Kim never saw it: Her attentions were focused elsewhere.
Glancing back over her shoulder, she took careful note of the room filled with still-cheering people. The aisle wasn't all that long, she had to admit: No more than 70 feet at the most. But still, in the span of that short walk, her life had been profoundly and forever changed. No longer was she Kim Possible: The world-famous globe-hopping heroine. Granted, she would most likely stay in the world-saving business for at least the immediate future, but that particular part of her identity was now secondary in her eyes. Now, she was Kim Stoppable: Adored wife to what she considered to be the most wonderful man on the face of the earth.
This was now her primary identity as far as she was concerned, and she honestly wouldn't have it any other way. All the accolades and adoring fans in the world couldn't hold a candle to what she had in Ron, and she would give it all up tomorrow if it meant keeping him by her side. He was her everything, and she was his, and that was simply the way things were, and always would be.
That short little aisle was so symbolic, she philosophically admitted to herself as she took one final look at the sanctuary. Its scant few yards represented a much longer and treacherous path: The path of life. It was a path strew with more than its fair share of obstacles and hardships. Steep grades and blind curves abounded along its perilous route, and the journey it presented was far from over.
But none of that mattered now, Kim thought as she turned once again to smile at her beloved husband, and the two of them resumed their walk. If she, if they, had made it this far, then they could certainly make it the rest of the way, just as long as they had each other. They had completed the journey from friends, to sweethearts, to lovers, and now to husband and wife… Hand in hand, they could certainly tackle whatever came next.
After all, they were Ronald and Kimberly Stoppable…
They could do anything!
Author's Notes:
Man, I can't believe that I finally got this done! This story has been sitting on my hard drive in varying stages of incompletion for… geez… I guess it must be close to two years now! Time really flies when you're having fun, eh?
So, I know that the whole K/R wedding fic thing has been done to death by this point, and if your reaction to this was to groan and roll your eyes, then I really can't say that I blame you for that. However, much like Ron, I'm a sucker for the classics, and I just couldn't resist the thought of throwing my hat into the ring of this time-honored plotline.
As it stands right now, I'm toying with the idea of writing a second chapter to this story, most likely dealing with the reception and the start of the honeymoon. I realize that it might seem overly ambitious to be planning the follow-up for a story that took nearly two years to complete on its own, but then again, nobody ever accused me of being the brightest pixel on the screen. Nothing ventured, nothing gained after all.
Let me know what you think of the idea. Is a sequel worth pursuing? Should I change the character perspectives? Should I take a different approach? Should I quit while I'm ahead? Should I not give up my day job? Am I asking too many questions? Should I shut the H-E-double hockey sticks up?
(Oh, and feel free to review the above posted story while you're at it, too.)
Having said all that, it is once again time for me to bid you all adieu. As always, read and review at your own risk, and I'll catch you all on the flip side.
Toodles!
Nutzkie…