A/N: Well, it has certainly been awhile since I've been on here. A lot has happened in that time. Life got in the way, and truth be told I had lost interest in writing fanfiction for a long time. But the writing bug has hit me again, and for the time being at least, I'm happy to be back. Can't promise I'll be here consistently, but I'll post when the inspiration strikes me and I feel I have something quality to share. If you're interested, the story that really led me back to posting here is a story I just began posting on the Anastasia musical category, Becoming Anya. If you're interested, it would be awesome if you could check that out. Otherwise, over the years, I have gotten several requests now and then to add to my Kim Possible repertoire of stories, especially those involving Krista. This is a story I had in the back of my mind back before I stopped posting, and it crawled out of its hiding place today. I hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible. It belongs to Disney and its creators. If it was in the show, I don't own it. I am not doing this for compensation, simply for enjoyment and practice.
Claimer: Krista Ruthie Stoppable is my OC. If you want to use her, please ask.
Middleton, Colorado, June 2, 4:30pm
"Ow! Mom, you're hurting me!" Krista Ruthie Stoppable's hand flew to the top of her head, protecting her precious blonde hair and scalp from another of her mother's painful attempts at a sleek sock bun.
Kim Possible-Stoppable huffed and blew a strand of her own auburn hair out of her face. "Well, honey, what do you want me to do?! I'm a crime fighter, not a beautician!"
Krista rolled her brown eyes. "Oh, please, this shouldn't be that hard! It's literally just a donut on top of my head!"
"Did somebody say donut?" Ron Stoppable poked his head into the kitchen from the living room, his eyes darting around for the aforementioned cakey treat.
Krista couldn't help but giggle. "A hair donut, Dad, not a real donut."
Despite himself, Ron looked crestfallen as he stepped fully into the kitchen. "Aw, man. A donut would have been real good right now."
Kim gave her husband "a look" and went to attempt the hairdo again.
"OW!"
Kim threw the brush down and raised her hands in surrender. "That's it! I give up!"
Krista rubbed the sore spot on the top of her head. "Well, we have to do something! I have to leave in half an hour and my hair needs to be done when I get to the theater!"
"Then you try it!"
"I can't! When I try to do it myself, it turns out lopsided."
Unbeknownst to the bickering girls, the doorbell rang. Ron glanced once between his wife and his daughter and then left the kitchen to answer it.
"See?! Not so easy, is it?" Kim retorted.
"But you're supposed to be the girl who can do anything! Didn't you ever have to do your hair for cheerleading?" Krista shot back.
"Not in such a ridiculous style, I didn't!"
Ron had entered the kitchen again with the guest from the door. "Uh, ladies?"
"It's not ridiculous, it's stylish! And it's supposed to be simple!"
"Kim?" Ron tried getting the attention of his wife.
"Can't I just put your hair in a ponytail?" Kim whined.
Ron tried his daughter. "Krista?"
Krista ignored him. "No! We have to have the same hairstyle to look uniform on stage!"
"Guys?" Ron attempted one more time.
"What ever happened to individuality?" Kim stated.
"GUYS!"
"WHAT?!" The girls finally faced Ron.
Ron sighed, relieved. "Help has arrived!" He swept his arms to his right, indicating their guest.
"MISS BONNIE!" Krista squealed happily and ran to embrace the brunette.
Bonnie Rockwaller laughed and hugged her back. "Hey, there, girlie!"
Kim smiled at her former high school nemesis. "Hey, Bonnie. What are you doing here?"
Bonnie put her arm around Krista's shoulder and hugged her to her side. "Well, I wanted to check in on how everything was going here tonight before the big recital. And since I know how hopeless you are with anything more complicated than a braid –" Bonnie ruffled Krista's hair. "—I figured I would come over and help out."
Despite the light insult, Kim's shoulders sagged with relief. "Thank you. Maybe she'll sit still for someone else."
"Hey!" Krista protested.
Bonnie shuffled the eleven-year-old towards the chair she had recently vacated. She sat Krista down and began expertly arranging her hair in a smooth sock bun.
Kim watched in awe. "How do you do that?"
"Years of practice," Bonnie smiled. She had been a ballet dancer for 13 intensive years of training, and was now Krista's dance teacher.
When Krista's hair was finally done, Bonnie moved on to the makeup. Kim protested as bonnie heavily lined Krista's eyes with a black wing and applied a smoky gray eyeshadow.
"Bonnie, she's 11. Does it really have to go on so thick?" she asked warily.
Bonnie sighed. "Kim, it's stage makeup. If I don't put it on this heavily, all the lights will wash her out. Trust me, it will look normal onstage." Kim relented and let Bonnie continue putting blush, mascara, fake eyelashes, and red lipstick on her daughter.
Krista went to get dressed in her costume. She pulled on her black tights first, then pulled a sparkling black biketard over it. One of her sleeves was short – just a thin spaghetti strap. The other sleeve was long, reaching her wrist. Krista pulled on her tutu, which only wrapped around the back half of her waist in a sort of bustle. The tutu consisted of black and red asymmetrical tulle – some pieces were long, some short, creating a very stylish, rugged look. Finally, she fastened a small black fedora just in front of her bun and offset to the right side. Attached to the fedora was more black and red tulle and a few black feathers and rhinestones. Krista pulled on her boots (she couldn't put on her black jazz shoes until she reached the theater), and headed back downstairs.
Kim and Ron created a big fuss over their daughter when she arrived back in the kitchen.
"You look so beautiful!" her father said.
"So grown up!" Kim looked a little teary-eyed, if Krista wasn't mistaken. Kim insisted on taking a few pictures, before Bonnie had to usher them out of the house and to the Middleton Community Theater, where the family split. Kim and Ron waited in the lobby for their parents and siblings, and Bonnie escorted Krista backstage.
Finally, it was time. Krista stood in the wings, a bundle of nerves. Her parents had never seen her dance before. What if she disappointed them? What if she wasn't as good as they thought? Krista picked at the skin between her fingers and paced.
Bonnie saw the worry creasing Krista's face and pulled her aside.
"Girl, you have to calm down. You're gonna be fine," she said.
"It's not that. It's – well what if I suck? What if I embarrass my parents? They've never seen me dance. Everyone here knows that the 'great Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable's' daughter is dancing tonight. What if I trip? What if I fall?" Krista's eyes widened, a sudden terrifying thought occurring to her. "WHAT IF I FORGET THE DANCE?!"
"Whoa, there, relax." Bonnie put her hands on Krista's shoulders. "None of that is going to happen. You know the dance. You've practiced the moves. We've practiced on the stage. You've never tripped before. And your parents will not be disappointed in you. Don't you realize that? You're their baby. They are so happy to be able to support you here and see you work at your passion after thinking they'd never see you again. Nothing you do could embarrass them. They will be proud of you, no matter what."
Bonnie removed her hands from her shoulders and gestured towards where the audience sat, waiting. "As for what the rest of them think? Forget them. This is your night. All that matters is what you think of yourself. And you best believe you are one of the best dancers I have ever had in my class."
Krista still wasn't completely convinced, but at least she had calmed down a bit. Besides, the dance before hers was finishing, and she had to get ready to go onstage. There was no more time for self-doubt or nerves. It was go-time.
Krista took a deep breath and followed her classmates onto the stage, jazz-walking to her first position. The music started, and the beat vibrated through the floor and into her bones. Krista let her instincts take over and began performing the moves she had been practicing for months.
In the audience, Kim and Ron watched in awe as their daughter performed. The dance was an impressive mix of jetés, pirouettes, fouettés, calypsos, and fluid movements. Krista performed each move with precision and grace. They may have been biased, but they thought she was the best one on that stage. When the music stopped, and the girls took their final pose, the crowd erupted with applause. Kim and Ron quickly rose, giving their beautiful baby girl the standing ovation she deserved. Soon, the whole auditorium joined in.
When the recital was over, Kim and Ron met their daughter in the lobby with their families, giving her a fierce bear hug as soon as she approached them.
"You were amazing!" Kim gushed.
"Definitely! I mean, I myself have some pretty badical moves, but you – WOW!" Ron praised.
Krista laughed lightly. "You really liked it? You really thought I was good?"
"You were better than good, honey. I am impressed. And so, so proud," Kim assured.
Krista blushed. After several congratulations (and flowers) from the rest of her family, they left the theater. That night, after Krista had showered and retreated to her room, Krista lay awake for a while, thinking back on the events of the last few months. A lot had changed. She had found her real family and moved to a new town. She had endured untold suffering and came out the other side even stronger. Something about tonight seemed to make her feel more complete, calmer. Dancing had been something from her old life, that Andrea Moore had taught her. And despite hating anything that had to do with that woman and what they did to her, Krista loved dancing. It was her release. Part of her had been afraid to share that part of her life with her real parents because it was something from before, something from the past they never got to experience with her. But to know that they accept it and support her and are so proud of her accomplishments in the sport brought her a relief she didn't know she needed.
She fell asleep with a smile on her face and a sense of calm in her heart.
