Welcome to chapter two; my longest chapter ever at 3507 words before I started keying in these remarks. I'm getting downright verbose in my old age.

Thanks to all who took the time to read chapter one; and especially to charizardag, JPMod, MrDrP, conan98002, spectre666, TheBaldOneMpls, momike, Amarin Rose, Commander Argus, SHADOW DRAGON TWISTER, Ultimate Naco Topping, Talitha Koum, mattb3671, and Skyagent who reviewed.

Many many thanks to the most spankin'est beta reader ever, MrDrP. You should go read all of his stuff if you haven't already … oh, who am I kidding?

Another recommendation: A Revision in Time, a very fine AU Supreme One tale by a relative newcomer to the site, Talitha Koum.

Disclaimer: Disney owns Kim Possible and every other character used in this chapter.


Kim Possible
in

The Mad Dog Picnic

(An Essential Ronness Story)

by
campy

Chapter Two

Possible home, Saturday, 9:30 am

Kim had just finished her last spoonful of cereal when she heard the front door open. She quickly got up from the table and set her empty bowl in the sink just as Ron walked into the Possibles' kitchen. "Good morning, lovely Possible ladies!" he said flamboyantly.

"Hi, Ron! Glad you're here. Let me just grab my backpack and we can get going!" Kim said.

"Kimmie! Slow down!" Ann Possible chided. "Maybe Ron would like some breakfast first. How are you, Ron?"

"Mmm, pancakes! Yum yum!" Rufus chirped, popping his head out of Ron's pocket. The naked mole rat scampered up to Ron's shoulder, then leapt onto the table and began to devour the stack of pancakes that Kim's mom set in front of him.

"Mom, we don't have time; we have to get to the picnic grounds. I need to find out what Bonnie did to my squad behind my back while Ron and I were in Florida."

"I'm doing great — Mrs. Dr. P," Ron said, slipping an arm around Kim's waist and giving her a peck on the cheek. "And thanks for the offer, but KP's right; we should probably get a move on. I already had breakfast at home."

"Ronald," James Possible, who had just entered the kitchen behind the teens, said. "How are you this morning? We still on for that game of horseshoes at the picnic?"

Ron attempted to discretely remove his hand from Kim's exposed stomach. Kim, though, was having none of that. She caught his escaping hand with her own and held it in place. She smiled and greeted her father. "Morning, Daddy!"

James was now pouring himself a mug of coffee.

"Uh, hi, Mr. Dr. P," Ron said hesitantly. "Yeah, I'm, uh, really looking forward to horseshoes."

James turned to look at the teens, taking in Kim's beaming smile and Ron's self-conscious one. He dropped his gaze to the hand firmly pressed to his daughter's waist, but maintained an only slightly forced-looking smile of his own.

"Outstanding," he said, before taking a sip of his coffee. "I do love to fling heavy pieces of iron about," he continued. "Gotta be careful, though. Those bad boys can really hurt a fellow if they get away from you."

"Heh heh, yeah, they sure can," Ron said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "Well, we should get a move on, KP. C'mon, little buddy." Kim finally released Ron's hand so he could scoop up the carbo-loaded rodent and deposit him back in his pocket.

The two teens left the kitchen and headed on out the door, pausing only to grab the backpack containing Kim's cheer uniform and other essentials for the long day ahead.

Kim's mom's car, which she'd asked to borrow for the drive to the lake, was parked in the driveway. Kim started for the driver's-side door, but Ron held her back.

"Ron, what are y–" she started to say, before he pulled her into the sheltering privacy of the shadows and covered her mouth with his own in a fervent kiss. Kim let her pack fall to the ground and melted into his arms, pressing her body against his. Ron ran his large hands up along her sides and back and sent them down again, all the way to her Club Banana shorts-encased bottom. Kim reached up and stroked his big ears and ran her fingers through his straw-blond locks; he kneaded her firm, round muscles. Kim let out a muffled "mmff" of pleasure and pressed herself even harder against him, forcing him back against the rough stone foundation wall as she amped up the passion level of the kiss, until even climatological research satellites orbiting hundreds of miles above detected the sudden surge of heat.

"Ahh. Now that's what I call a 'good morning' kiss!" sighed Kim once their lips finally parted.

"The Ron-man aims to please," he responded.

"Hoosha! Total score!" came a voice from the backseat of the car. "Pay up, Bro." Two faces popped up in the rear window, identical save for contrasting expressions.

"You Tweebs!" Kim snarled. "What are you doing in there?"

"We had a bet," the happy twin explained. "Jim said you guys would start smooching after you got in the car …"

"… and he said you'd start as soon as you got out the door," Jim said sourly. "You cost me a buck, Sis," he added with a scowl.

"Actually, the way I remember it, it was Ron who cost you your dollar. And do you two little pervs also have a bet about which one of you I'll eviscerate first when I get my hands on you?" Kim asked, arms crossed.

"Uh, gotta go!" the twins said in unison, before scrambling out of the car and disappearing into the house.

Kim retrieved her backpack and they got in the car.

"You know, Kimbo, Jim had a good idea there. I'm all about smoochies in the car." He leaned toward her, lips puckered.

Kim playfully put up a hand to fend off his advance. "Ron, what's with you this morning? You acted so tense around my dad in the kitchen, and suddenly you're Mister Make-out?"

"Tense? Moi? Oh, no no no, Kimila, you've got it all wrong. We were just having some fun with each other. We have an understanding now, your dad and me; we're like a couple of architects."

"You're like … architects?"

"Yeah, you know, he's the 'Overprotective Father' and I'm the 'Guy on the Make' trying to take advantage of his 'Sweet, Virginal Daughter'—that'd be you. It's like we're characters in a kookie play."

"Architects … in a koo– … Ron, I think you mean a Kabuki play. And the word is archetypes, not architects."

"Oh, yeah, you're right. Not kookie, Kabuki. But we're not architects?"

"No, archetypes."

"Noh? I thought it was Kabuki? There's a difference, y'know. At least, Master Lunch Lady at Yamanouchi says there is. She tried to explain it to me once, but I was majorly hungry at the time, and between that and her accent I found it hard to concentrate—"

"Ngggh." Kim rapped her forehead on the steering wheel in exasperation. "Ron, just fasten your seat belt, okay? We'll find a place to be alone sometime today; let's just head to the lake now. I don't want to give Bonnie one more second alone with my squad."

Picnic Grounds, 10:50 am

As the last few measures of the song blared out of the boom box, the six dancers quickly moved into position. Two girls dropped to their hands and knees; the Mad Dog did the same between them. Two more girls took up places on the backs of this trio. Finally, the remaining girl sprang and flipped to the top of the pyramid precisely on cue and then flung her arms out in an exultant gesture, a dazzling smile on her face.

She held her pose for a few beats, then nimbly hopped down and turned to face her squadmates. "Okay, that was almost acceptable. Let's take two and then run through it one more time." Bonnie then spun on her heel and went to her gym bag for a water bottle.

Jessica, Tara and Liz disengaged themselves and followed suit. Ron pulled off his Mad Dog mask and sat cross-legged. Kim lay with her head in his lap, smiling up at him.

Bonnie turned around and groaned at the sight. "Kim, when are you going to come to your senses and dump that loser? You're bringing the whole squad's image down. You really should try to find yourself a quality boyfriend for senior year. Someone higher on the Food Chain."

Kim sprang furiously to her feet and went nose-to-nose with the tanned brunette. "Ron is NOT a loser, Bonnie, he's a great boyfriend! And I am sooo sick of hearing about your stupid Food Chain! Nobody but you takes it seriously anyway."

"So not true, K. All of us …" she indicated the other three girls, "understand how vitally important it is. We cheerleaders are, like, the elite of the school. We have a standard to live up to. And the way we do that is to date sports stars, or other hottie guys like Josh Mankey are acceptable too. That's why I went to the prom with Brick, and why Jess is dating Steve the baseball captain, and Tara's dating the basketball star …"

As Bonnie lectured, she failed to notice the awkward looks Tara, Liz and Jess were exchanging. Finally, Tara spoke up. "Um, actually, Bonnie," the curvaceous blonde interrupted tentatively, "Jason and I broke up right around the time you went to your dad's. I'm sorta … with … Kevin now."

"Kevin? Who's Kevin? I don't know any Kevin on any of the sports teams."

"Kevin Guberman. The captain of the chess team."

"Chess?" Bonnie said, infusing the word with an ocean of disdain. "You have got to be kidding me. That's, like, total nerd city."

"Yes, Bonnie, chess," Tara continued, irritation overriding the deference she customarily showed to Bonnie. "I loved chess when I was a little girl. My grandpa taught me how to play, and I used to play with him all the time when he was alive. But when we got to junior high I started to feel like I couldn't do stuff like that any more or people like you would make fun of me. Then after the prom when Kim and Ron started dating, I decided I didn't have to do only 'cool' stuff anymore. When we were having all those rainy days I spent some time in this on-line teen chat site 'cause Jason was always ditching me to go off with his 'hoops' buddies, and I started playing against Kevin on the computer, then we started getting together at his house and then about a week ago we …"

"Mated?" Jessica offered with a titter.

"… kissed!" Tara said, blushing crimson. "Kevin's really nice and I like him."

"Wait, hold the phone. I am not believing what I'm hearing. You, Tara, playing … chess?"

"That's right, Bonnie. I know you think of me as a total ditz, but I play, and I'm pretty good at it, too. I even beat Kevin two out of three games yesterday when we were at his house."

"Uh, Tara," Liz interrupted, "when you went to Kevin's, were you still wearing that halter top I saw you in yesterday? With the spaghetti straps and the shirred bodice?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," Liz replied, stifling a laugh.

Ron shook his head in bemusement and muttered, "Now that's the way to be a distrac– OW!" He put a hand to the back of his head where Kim had just swatted him. "What was that for, KP?"

"Anyway," Tara went on, "maybe you should tell Bonnie what's new with your love life now, Liz."

"What?" Bonnie gasped, still struggling to absorb Tara's news. "Aren't you still dating that hockey player?"

"No, we broke up," the petite redhead stated. "I started dating Arnold Custer."

"Arnie? From the debate team?" Kim asked. "He's a good guy; Ron and I used to play with him back in grade school. Way to go, Liz!"

"Arnie always did have a thing for redheads," Ron observed.

"What can I say," Liz said with a grin, "he talked me into it."

"Bet he's good with his tongue," Jessica stage-whispered to Tara, who giggled and blushed again.

"She's not prone to argue," Tara whispered back.

"Debate?" Bonnie said. "Chess? Is everyone here crazy but me? Jess, please tell me you're still with Steve Farley."

"Yes, Bonnie, I'm still dating Steve …" Jessica replied, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, thank you. One sane person at least."

"… but that's because he's a really sweet guy and he's a lot of fun to be with."

All the girls, even Kim, eyed the willowy blonde dubiously.

"Okay, okay, he's a hottie too, and no way is that a bad thing, but as for the sports? Feh," she waved her hand dismissively. "I couldn't care less if he was the star shortstop or the batboy."

"Wha–?" Bonnie's mouth continued to move, but no more recognizable words emerged.

"In fact, he told me just the other day he's thinking of not playing any fall or winter sport next year. He wants to audition for the musical instead. The drama club is going to put on Camelot."

"Ah, Camelot: a very Mr. B choice," Ron mused aloud. "The man is all about the classics."

"It's true!" Rufus averred. "It's true!"

"Ooh, Steve would make such a dreamy Lancelot, Jess!" Tara gushed.

"Mmm hmm, I can totally see that boy in tights," said Liz with a sigh.

"Hey, y'know what? You should try out too, Jess!" Kim insisted, beaming. "I've heard you sing; you'd be a beautiful Guinevere. I'm sure we could work cheer practices around the rehearsal schedule."

"Ya think? Wow, that'd be badical! Thanks, Kim!" Jessica's freckled face took on a love-struck expression as she pictured herself dressed in a long, flowing gown, being wooed (away from her lawfully wedded husband and King—but let's not dwell on that little detail right now) by a handsome knight.

"No big," Kim replied.

Bonnie finally found her voice again. "You people are playing me, I know it. Chess, debate, and now the musical? I so cannot believe what I'm hearing. What's next, a band geek? A, a mathlete?"

"Now that you mention it, Bonnie," Tara piped up, "Hope told me …"

That was the last straw for Bonnie. She ran offstage holding her hands over her ears and screaming "Aaaaaahhhhhuuuuugggg!"

The four girls looked at each other. "I'd better go after her," Tara said, shaking her head in resignation. Liz and Jess gathered up their gear and wandered off, and Kim sat down next to Ron again.

"Well, so much for our last run-through." Kim sighed. "Poor Bonnie; that was quite a shock for her."

"Like the End of the Universe as She Knew It."

"Well, Bonnie's pretty resilient. I'm sure she'll recover in time for our dance. A chance to be on top of a pyramid is a powerful motivation."

"I still can't believe she stuck you on the bottom, and practically offstage for the whole number, KP. Wait, yes I can. She's Bonnie."

"So not the drama, Ron. I really don't mind. I've gotta give Bonnie her props, the dance she came up with is spankin'. I really should try to get her to choreograph more for us next year; we'd wow them at regionals with a number like this. And she deserves to be front and center in it; she's a terrific dancer."

"No better than you, KP. Plus, the prettiest girl should be center stage so all the guys can see her easily."

"Oh, please. Bonnie and Tara are the ones who have the 'assets' to really sell that dance. No one's gonna be paying any attention to my lemons with their melons just a few feet away," Kim scoffed.

Ron looked lost. Huh? When did we start talking about fruit? he wondered. Or is it 'fruits'? Then the fog lifted and he reddened.

"Heeyyy! No dissing my bon-diggity GF!" he scolded. "You have a gorgeous body, Kim," he added with a leer. "And look on the bright side: you won't have back problems in a few years like they will. My mom's, uh, kinda …" he cupped his hands in front of his chest, looking extremely embarrassed, "and she complains about it a lot."

"Thanks, Ronnie, you're sweet. But I still feel like a tall ten year old next to Bonnie and Tara sometimes."

"Don't forget Crystal. She's got a real nice … uh … not that I … uh … I … I should just shut up now, shouldn't I?"

Kim glared at him, looking hurt and miffed.

Somewhat to her surprise, though, Ron didn't continue to babble and grovel. He met her gaze steadily, with what she was coming to think of as his 'confident Ron' grin on his face. "Oh no, Kimberly Ann; don't you give me that look," he said evenly. "Just 'cause you didn't consider me a 'guy' until prom night doesn't mean I wasn't one. I noticed girls, just like you noticed every 'pretty boy' for miles around."

Ron is standing up to me! Kim thought. (Also, on a more subliminal level, Confident Ron is so hot!) Her expression softened. She reached out and began to stroke his cheek. "Okay, you're right, Ron, I was so the fool. You were always a guy, and I'm really glad you're my guy now. Now," she continued in a sultry voice, "how about you give me some of that Ronshine and make me feel like a woman."

He leaned in and tenderly kissed her. Kim responded; the kiss intensified, until …

"Possible! Stoppable! PDA ceases, NOW!"

Kim and Ron looked up to see Mr. Barkin looming over them, dressed in a crisply pressed Middleton High polo shirt and khaki shorts.

The two teens got to their feet. "Uh, Mr. Barkin?" Ron said. "It's a Saturday, it's summer vacation, and we're miles from the school."

"Stoppable, allow me to apprise you of some pertinent facts. The Boosters Club is a school-chartered organization, therefore this picnic is a school function, therefore you are under my authority while you are a participant in said function. I can and will place you in detention for any violation of school policies if I deem it appropriate. Are we clear?"

"Y–yes, Mr. B."

"Just to make sure, maybe I'd better give you this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. He thrust it at Ron.

"Extra homework? Aw, man! Hey, wait a second, this is blank!"

He looked up and saw the sly grin on the big man's face and the twinkle in his eye. "Ooh, you got me good, Mr. B."

"Nice job down in Florida the other day, Stoppable. That was thinking outside the box." He slapped Ron on the back; the blonde lad winced from the force of the blow. "Glad to see you using the old noodle for a change. At least, I assume the 'Rod Stonetable' the news media were talking about was really you."

"What?" Kim fumed. "Those idiots got Ron's name wrong AGAIN? I do not believe this! We went over it and over it and … and now you're playing me, aren't you, Mr. Barkin?"

"That's right, Possible. They got his name right—at least, two out of the three that I saw did. That Labowski woman …" he shook his head grimly. "She was not hired for her brains.

"Anyhoo, I just wanted to make sure you were looking out for your partner. That's vital, Possible. Always remember that."

Kim wrapped her arms around Ron's shoulders and hugged him protectively. "Count on it, Mr. Barkin," she said assuredly.

The ex-military man nodded and walked away.

Kim and Ron collected their gear and moved it to the small dressing room behind the stage where the girls would change before their dance. Then they joined some volunteers who were starting to set up tables and lay out the food. (Carrying a tray of deviled eggs from someone's car to a table was a task suited to Kim's culinary talents.)

While they worked Kim continued to think about the Bonnie sitch. After a while she spoke up.

"I definitely think I should ask Bonnie to plan some more dances for us next year, Ron. She's really good at it."

"I dunno, Kim. Why would she go for that? Bon-Bon's never been one for taking on extra work, especially without getting all the credit for it."

Kim mulled that over. "Maybe she'd be willing if I offered her co-captain."

"Bonnie and you? Co-captains? Wait, I'm confused. Just an hour ago you were breaking speed limits so we could get here before Bonnie got two more minutes of running your squad. Now you want to just hand her co-captain?"

"Oh, come on. I can do anything, remember? I'm sure I could keep her in line … at least I think I could …"

"Keep Bonnie in line? I seem to recall you once called her the 'bossiest person on the planet,' KP. 'She wouldn't settle for chair, she'd want throne,' you said. I believe the words 'controlling' and 'devious' were bandied about, too."

"Look, Ron, Bonnie's … I can't say too much—it's not my place—but when she and I were stuck to each other I found out some things. She's got stuff in her home life; maybe this would help her with it …

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe you're right," she said. "I need to think about this some more … Hey, look, our families are here."

Ron laid his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "Whatever you decide, KP, you know I've got your back."

to be continued …


Before I go, I'd like to give you all a piece of advice: If you drink, drink responsibly. Always designate a driver; never drink and drive. And if you absolutely insist on drinking and driving, please, at the very least, keep your car out of my living room. I'd appreciate it. Thank you.

campy