"Bar Hopping"
Chapter 2
Kim stormed back to the table her friends had been occupying, mainly because she was vaguely aware that she was making a scene of herself standing at the bar and flapping her arms like a bird about to take flight. Monique, ever the BFFF, ordered Kim's favourite drink and brought it over. The redhead, normally one to savour the rare drink with friends and loved ones; instead downed half of the tall irish red in one quick go and sighed bitterly, letting it bomb its way heavily into her stomach.
Felix and Monique continued to watch the heroine, judging whether or not it was safe to say anything yet. She gave them a look like a wet cat, clunking her mug against the table for a moment.
"Fine… let me have it."
"WTF, GF?" Monique eyed her; fingers wrapped around her own first beer still half-sipped.
"Yeah Red," Felix chimed in, glad to not have been the first to open his mouth on the situ, "You walk in and ten seconds later slap Ron?"
"He was feeling up my cousin." She grumbled, taking a more modest draw of her drink.
"More like poking at, carefully," the paralyzed doctor suggested. "And so what if he was?"
"Um, hello? She's my cousin?" She eyed Felix archly.
"And…?"
Kim's green eyes attempted to convey how obvious the problem should be.
"Baby girl," Monique arched a brow, giving her a curious look, "She looked a lot like a big girl to me. Unless she's like, the two-week-old product of a mad science experiment gone awry we haven't been told about?"
"Mo… She's just out of school…" the ginger scowled into her drink, "She is hardly old enough to be in here. And Ron Should Know Better."
The black girl and the wheeled guy shot each other confused and consternated looks.
After another moment, Monique tried a slightly different tac, "So, what was it that kept you from being here to stop him going over there in the first place, then? Warn him off, as it were…"
"There was a fire a few blocks from here, just getting started while I was driving by. I had to make sure everybody was out of the building," Kim seemed to be making a habit of speaking into her beer, keeping it to her lips as she sipped between statements.
"The soot on your forehead says that it was a lot more than just started, Kim," Felix offered, handing her a napkin.
"Uuuuugh, that too? I already smell like a dirty barbecue." She complained while scrubbing her face, knowing where she usually ended up wiping her forehead when she was sweaty.
"You could have just called us and told us you would be late; and stopped to clean up, girl." Monique took over the task of cleaning off the soot, more effectively getting rid of it as she could actually see it. "We're not your wife, we won't run off to commit a crime if we get bored cause you're not around."
"Will you back off her, Mo?" the redhead growled, "Seriously, I don't know what it is between you two…"
"Mutual boob envy," Felix answered with a smirk.
Both girls fixed him with dismissive and disgusted looks.
"What?!" He held up his hands, "It's true, you're both heroically proportioned women who like tight tops."
Rolling her chocolatey eyes, Monique finished her drink after finishing with Kim, "Yeah, sure Wheels, because that's all women care about."
"Don't ask me what all women care about," he defended, "I'm married to a Latina nerd who looks good in a potato sack, and would run around in one if society let her get away with it and they didn't chafe. Seriously, meddle not in the wardrobe of the wife."
"Can we leave my marriage out of this?" Kim grumbled into her mostly drained red beer, still having not set it down fully. "I get it, none of you like or trust her. Yes, she can be very mercurial. But she is mine and I am hers, got it?"
"Ron likes her," Felix helpfully pointed out as he rolled backwards enough to adjust his chair.
"Ron likes everyone except for Josh Mankey and Monty Fisk, Felix," the heroine rolled her eyes. "Heck, he even started liking Drakken once the Doctor started remembering his name."
"It doesn't hurt that Kim's wife wears a skin tight cat suit." Monique rolled her eyes, before collecting Kim's mug and her own for refills. "And that Ron is a straight man…. Or maybe a closeted lesbian cross dresser? I mean, we all remember the Ballerina costume…"
"And the kimitation costume… and the issue with Britina's wig at that concert, and that thing with Señor Senior Junior and Wade's bun warmer, and…" Felix trailed off, having finally gotten a smile out of the redhead, weary though it was. "There she is… Kim Possible has returned."
"Alrighty Boo," Monique returned with the two refilled brews, one red and one amber, "Now that you're done chewing on the plastic foliage, wanna tell us why you are so cranked?"
"I think I'm just tired, Mo…"
"Tired?" She instantly disbelieved what the heroine said, "Girl, I once saw you go seventy six hours on sixty four ounces of Popsi and a box of Tac-Tics. So, pull the other one."
"I'm not a teenager any more, Mo," the redhead complained.
The other two looked at her in disbelief.
"Um, none of us are, Kim," Felix pointed out carefully, "But we're hardly one foot in the grave either. Or is there something you're not telling us?"
"I'm tired, that's all it is, okay?" the heat rose in Kim's voice, "And Ron just really tweaked me, hitting on my little cousin like some common hornball. And now who knows what they're up to…"
Monique and Felix began to pick up on a pattern in the words Kim was choosing. But given her inflammable state, they kept it to themselves.
"So, how 'bout them Mad Dogs eh?" the male of the group attempted to change the subject completely away from love and lust.
-BH-
Ron realized he was uncomfortably close to staring at Joss's chest as he stood there. Fortunately she seemed to be focused on the mirror and hadn't noticed. He made a conscious effort to redirect his eyes, and found her right arm, wherein lay an intricate bit of ink scrollwork.
"U-h ah, ahha ha-," he stuttered, getting ahold of himself, chuckling nervously, "So that's Old Crow?"
Joss paused in putting up her hair and looked at her arm, as though to ensure there wasn't more than one tattoo he might be referring to. "Ayup. Old Crow."
"You said trickster gods could be pesky?" He rubbed his chin, focusing on the artwork to the exclusion of anything else.
"Yup," Joss grinned and turned to face him, apparently done with her hair. She kept her arm in his view though, talking about the body art, "He's actually Raven… But he told me that he doesn't like that name raght now. Says it sounds like whiney lil human hipsters, that Old Crow sounds more seasoned."
"Wait," Ron went from scratching his chin to the top of his head, "You say that like you got the tattoo from…"
"A god?" She grinned, "Well, he's more of a demigod than an actual fire and brimstone full-on God, but yup."
Ron made his way closer, sitting down at the small chair in front of the in-built desk. "Okayyy. So… how does that work?"
She sat down with a bounce on the foot of the bed and again looked at her ink, as if more remembering than recounting, "Well, I was in the nor'west and ran into a bunch of looters who had managed to find an old Haida tribal site. Ah'm sure you know that drunks and henchmen always blab. I followed 'em there and busted them up good fer their troubles before turning 'em over to tha BLM."
Rubbing the intricate scrollwork of the very tribal designed raven's head, she looked at the ceiling idly, "I hung 'round to triple check things, an after everyone left, Old Crow made himself known to me, so ta speak. He said I had done him a favor, and that therefore he owed me a boon. Then he vanished. I woke up back in mah hotel room, thinkin' it might have all been a dream, till I realized Ah'd picked up a souvenir of my adventure. It grants me protection from illusion magic and the ability to figer' out if someone is wearin' a disguise."
"Okay," He nodded, making sure to keep his eyes focused on her shoulder, arm, and ink, rather than anything else in the vicinity, "That's way cool. Lots better than how I got my monkey powers. I had to willingly get zapped by four magical statues of something I hated in order to fight a mad British lord with surgically altered hands and feet."
She giggled and nodded, "Ah know tha story. How ya'll bravely faced yer fear of monkeys in order ta take down Monkey Fist 'cause Kim weren't around ta help."
"Right… cause you used to know all of Kim and my adventures," he rubbed the back of his neck embarrassedly.
"Ah still know most of em," She nodded, "Though Ah dun have time to keep up on every single one like Ah used to."
"Yeah, seems like with magical tattoos, brands, and jewelry, you've been pretty busy," Ron chuckled, moving his eyes around her, careful not to let them linger too long on any one spot.
"Well, Ah never intended to," She shrugged, leaning back on her arms on the bed and finally ignoring her tattoo, "But it just kina started workin' out that way. Seems lahk where people call Cousin Kim bout mad science and people tryin' ta take over the world, people call me to deal with spirits an' ghosts and things that go bump in tha night. Heck, sometimes tha spirits an Gods themselves even call me. Not on tha phone usually tho."
Ron laughed at that openly, "Yeah, usually when I get a spiritual message, it's written on the wall in ketchup or mystery meat gravy… Sometimes with weird nightmares. It would be kinda nice if the Great Monkey would just send a text that says 'go rescue my niece'."
Joss giggled at that and shook her longish auburn hair, "Yeah, it's never quite that simple for me neither. But Ah hear ya."
When Joss leaned back, Ron had to find somewhere else to look. That tank-top was rather distracting, trapped as it was between her chin and her navel ring and filled with the obvious.
"Ya know, Ron," She laughed after realizing there was a bit of silence hanging in the room. She grabbed a pillow off the bed and threw it at him, "It's okay to admit Ah have boobs. I did long time ago."
Hit in the face by pillow, Ron sputtered and blushed red beneath the fabric. From behind the pillow, which he held over his face to stop him staring at her rather perfectly formed ones, he mumbled, "Ah ha hehe… yeah. I mean… of course you do!"
Leaning forward, Joss smirked and yanked the pillow out of his hands and away from his face. "An' it is okay to look at em once in a while, Ron. They're just boobs an' they ain't gonna bite ya or anything. Ah mean, they're not as nice as Monique's or anything, but Ah'm rather proud of em."
Ron got very redfaced and flustered, because in leaning forward to snatch the pillow, she had presented him with a perfectly calculated view of her cleavage.
"uh…"
She smacked him with the pillow. "Okay, Ah didn't say stare at em."
Laughing it off, she sat back, rolling her multi-hued eyes. "There, sexual tension broken?"
"I guess…" He nodded, still a bit blushed, "But I always thought Monique was kinda… I dunno, big?"
"She's what ya'd call…" Joss tilted her chin up in consideration, "Voluptuous. But Ah guess since ya'll grew up with Kim, ya might tend towards the smaller girls, raght?"
Ron blushed again, but nodded his agreement to the assessment. He did indeed prefer a body type that leaned towards the athletic end of the spectrum, and probably could blame Kim and most of her fellow cheerleaders for that predilection. Well except for Bonnie Rockwaller… but that was because of the uncharitable rumors about how she'd got a C cup entering freshman year. Now that Ron was quite a bit more worldly, he knew that those were just that; rumors.
Not that Bonnie hadn't given him one or two chances to check for himself when he'd been a Naco Millionaire. Now that he had had a few experiences for comparison, he was doubly convinced they were real, and they were spectacular.
"Yeah, Monique has a badical body. Not that I want her hearing me saying that." He confessed, grinning a little. "Might make things a lil awkweird between us."
"Your secret's safe with me," She grinned and held up a pixie scout salute.
"So… Monique. She designed Kim's 3G style, raght?" Joss again sat forward, this time reaching around Ron for a magazine in her duffle; one which was a couple years old and dog-eared and had Kim was on the cover. "Do ya think she might consider doin' something for me?"
"Your look seems fine to me," Ron supplied almost too eagerly.
She bapped him with the magazine playfully. "That's fer clubbin' and bar hoppin'. Not fer savin' the day, goober."
Ron grinned gamely. At this point in life he knew a thing or two about proper mission attire; he knew that Joss's clothes were probably more for titillation than rugged outdoors-wear, at least. "I dunno… one of my favourite games gives points for 'visual-psychological tactics,' How was I to know that's not what you were going for?"
"Cause, with vera few exceptions," Joss rolled her moonstone eyes, "Life's not a vidia game. Asides, I dun exactly have a 'Live or Dead: Sand Volleyball' body."
Now Ron rolled his eyes. "Don't sell yourself short, I'd absolutely play a videogame with a girl who looked like you."
Joss blushed a bit, but rapped him with the magazine a second time. "Flirt. Now seriously, Monique?"
Ron stroked his chin a bit, thinking, "I dunno. She kinda considered KP's new clothes a personal design challenge. Especially since Kim's second generation stuff was actually done by the Fashionistas on the sly. Plus, it was on the friends-and-family plan. But I could ask if you want."
"Unless she werks fer favors, Ah prolly can't afford it," Joss rested a defeated face in a palm, sighing. "Ghosts an skinwalkers usually don't have money, and Gods don't carry Misa cards."
"Hey," He reached out and poked her shoulder near the tattoo, "If there's one thing I learned from dating Kim in high school, it never hurts to ask. Like, if I had asked earlier to consider me, she might never have been messed with by Eric the synthodrone."
Joss gave an awkward smiled, but nodded.
-BH-
Beep beep ba beep doooooo
The high pitched fifth note told her who was calling on the elongated screen of the watch, "Go for Kim."
"Morning KP." Neon green hair greeted her from the screen of her fifth generation kimmunicator, held by the band in her fingers.
"Morning Jaime." She greeted them with a smile, trying not to let on that she had a hangover worthy of a fight with Shego. "What's the sitch?"
The slender face on the screen smiled back, "Nothing critical. Just passing on Middleton Fire and Rescue's personal thanks. Your getting everyone out of the building really simplified their work last night, and they wanted me to personally relay the message."
"Couldn't have done it without Wade's night-vision sunglasses, or your blueprint scans," she scrubbed the top of her head, trying in vain to smooth out her bed head.
She also couldn't have done it if she'd passed the building even two minutes later. The fire had been fast spreading and she didn't have any of her usual gear with her like Jaime's fire suppression pills or Wade's disposable gas masks.
This was why she liked working with Jaime, they had a more personable touch than Wade did. Wade would never have taken the time to pass along praise, he was too functionary and too agoraphobic. Plus he just didn't understand communication with the non-super-geniuses of the world, IE 99.9%. But between the two of them, they balanced out the workload for she and Ron very nicely. Plus it gave Wade time to actually eat and sleep normally, having Jaimie to pick up some of the slack.
"Anything else you want to talk about, KP?" Jamie gave her a meaningful look from the four inch screen of the kimmunicator.
They always had a way of getting gossip the same way Wade did getting intel.
"You heard huh?"
They nodded on screen, flicking their green hair pointedly, "Yup. Do I need to say it?"
She sighed, palming her face with her free hand, "No… I was a total witch to Ron."
"I was going to start with a B, but yeah… let's go with that," they rolled their eyes and smirked. "Want me to call him up so you can appol- Oh wait, no, he's got his ron-com turned off. Huh."
"Oh, he does, does he?" her false-smile disappeared into a narrow eyed frown of suspicion. "Well, No then. I guess he can wait for me to say sorry later."
Jaime sighed on the screen, tempted to taser her remotely for being stubborn. They settled on giving her the eye, "Fiiiiine. Don't say I didn't warn you. Jaime out."
Grumbling, the redhead put her kimmunicator back on the nightstand with more force than was strictly necessary. Muttering, she drug herself out of bed and headed for the bathroom, hoping she got there before the tweebs or Aunt June.
-BH-
Raven hair and ruby lips
Sparks fly from her finger tips
Echoed voices in the night
She's a restless spirit on an endless flight
Woohooo Witchy Woman, see how high she flies
Woohoo Witchy Woman, she got the moon in her eye
Ron reached around, trying to slap the alarm radio on his phone. His somnolent brain half-wondered why 100.00 Internet Pop was playing a song from like decades before he was born.
The music stopped even though he had yet to find his phone with his hand, eyes still stubbornly shut.
"This is Joss."
Ah, so it wasn't his phone, it was hers.
As his brain reluctantly started rousing, he remembered he was in a sleeping bag, on a foam mat, on the floor of Joss's motel room. He didn't even know where his phone was.
Oh yeah, it was on the desk thingy. He had projected Zombie Bricks: Fury Saga Seven for them to watch on the ceiling. The sound kinda sucked, but it was still fun. Although it was a tight fit to squeeze both of them onto the twin bed of the single motel to watch. And he kept getting a face full of her perfume, not that that was unwelcome. Just unusually pungent.
"Mmmhm? Haunted you say? Well Ah'm in the area actually, so I can look today. I doubt it really is, old mines are full o' funny sounds, but yeah."
Ron kept respectfully silent from the floor, listening to the half of the conversation he was privy to. Also, because he was still too sleepy to move or think anyway.
"Yeah. Lemme get mah stuff together, grab a shower, an' Ah'll head out."
He heard a beep as she set the phone down on her night stand. "'Ey Ron, ya'll wake down there?"
The blond made an affirmative noise and rolled around a bit to indicate he was; even if ninety percent of his body disagreed.
"I gotta go out on a mission. An' ah think you all needa get ready for yer reunion, raght?"
He heard rustling on the bed, and a moment later, Joss appeared in the vision of one cracked eye. She had on Fearless Ferret sleep pants and a looser top than she had worn the night before, freeing him from the worry of staring at her figure before his brain was ready for it.
"Imma grab a quick shower, ya'll wanna wait around to use it after, or git on the road?" She stretched, and Ron could hear her joints popping audibly, mostly since her ankles were basically in his face.
Giving it as much thought as his sleepy brain could muster, he finally decided a course of action. "I'll wait for the shower, then you can drop me at my hotel on your way out?"
"Sounds lahk a plan." Joss's ankles receded from his vision behind the bed and he heard the door to the small bathroom close a moment later. Once he heard the shower running through the thin wall, Ron peeled back the sleeping bag and got out. Then he fished out his jeans from the foot of the bag and pulled them up over his boxers. Not that he didn't mind Joss maybe seeing him in his underwear, but they weren't like that where he was just going to walk around in front of her. He pulled the jeans on for the moment and then set about tying up the sleeping bag and mat.
Of course, it took him three or four tries. He might be king of all lanyards, but sleeping bags were a different story entirely. He'd never quite got the hang of them. The mat was much easier. He was used to those from years in Japan. He stuck them next to Joss's bag, hoping he'd done them up in whatever was most convenient for her to pack.
Turning around, he found Joss behind him in the same pajamas she had gone into the bathroom with. Only because her auburn hair was now almost brunette with wetness and her skin a bit pink from the hot water was he sure she had actually showered. Well that and he had heard the water running. KP was rather notorious for not showering if she was in a rush, so he was accustomed to that behavior.
"Yer turn," She announced, flopping down on the bed and digging in that ever-present duffle for a hair brush. "Soap an' stuff is still there. Ah use mah own."
Nodding, Ron retreated to the bathroom. He could definitely smell the stuff Joss used. Like her perfume of the night before, it was heady and oak'ish, though she seemed to have taken whatever bottles of the stuff with her. Shucking off his clothes, he got in the shower and went about his morning routine as best he could. He hollered in surprise because he was only about five minutes into the process when the hot water became ice-cold water. It didn't help that he had backed away from the shower nozzle to wash his hair, and so the ice water was hitting him in a very sensitive place.
Grumbling, he finished his shower more quickly than intended, and tugged on his clothes again after drying with a reedy motel towel, making sure to smooth the day-old garments into place as best as he could. "Stupid cheap motel room water heater… ugh!"
Joss chuckled at him as he came out of the bathroom, shaking her head, "Yeah, I suppose I wasn't really 'specting anyone to have to use it after me. Sorry fer not rememberin'."
Ron nodded in understanding, using the cheap plastic hair brush from the bathroom to brush out his short hair. Then he stopped dead when he turned to the mirror and caught a sight.
Joss was wearing what apparently counted as her 'mission gear.' It consisted of zip-off khaki cargo shorts; held in place by a thick black leather belt, from which hung a few holders and pouches. Up top she was wearing a similar zip-off green safari shirt, sleeves zipped away showing off the bottom half of her arm ink. What was getting to him though, was the rest. She had a backpack already slung on, which clipped across her mid-section in front. Between the strap tugging her round the middle and the open buttons on the top of her faded green shirt, her breasts were once again rather prominent, despite the fact that he was sure this time she was wearing a bra.
When she pulled on her sunglasses, the impression was complete. Joss Possible looked like a redheaded version of Cara Loft: Temple Raider. It was every teenage boy's favourite character for a reason, one which Ron was acutely aware of between her booted legs and the way the backpack and belt pulled everything taught around her body.
Joss busied herself with putting her various tools into the pouches and pockets on her belt, shorts, and shirt.
Ron reminded himself yet again not to stare at the athletic college girl.
After a moment, he got a better hold of himself, focusing on the clothes instead of the girl they wrapped around. "Why do you want to change your gear look? Seems spankin' to me."
Joss turned to him a moment in the mirror. He couldn't actually see them behind the glasses, but he was sure she rolled her eyes at him.
"'Cause one; Ah can't get these shorts no more, and the shirts dun come in this green no more neither. And two, you dun think it looks a bit too much like Cara Loft? I want my own look, not one Ah stole from a vidia game."
He nodded, giving her an obvious critical eye for her benefit this time. "Well, it does, but I doubt anyone is complaining about that."
Joss again threw the thin motel pillow at him and laughed. "Typical horny guy thoughts. Least horny girls dun' get worked up over pixel boobs and butts."
Ron turned to face her directly and peeked over the pillow at her curiously, "Oh?"
She realized she had just confessed her alignment and laughed a bit more nervously, "Well… yeah?"
Ron shrugged it off. After all, his only serious ex-girlfriend was a lesbian. He did want to talk to her about that, because she had proved fun to be around; but they both had places to be and he bet Joss knew her cousin was gay by now, wedding and all that...
After a moment's thought however, he grabbed his ron-com out of his pocket, turned it on, and snapped a picture of her. When she shot him an obvious look from under her glasses, he grinned openly. "For Monique… cause if you want me to ask her, she needs to know what kind of challenge she's looking at, right?"
"Oh yeah… right." Joss nodded dumbly; having mostly forgotten she had asked that the night before. Laughing, she strutted past him to the door to the motel room, "Alrighty, let's go. An' Ah promise not to use Fireball's horse mode, since neither of us wants 'nother wedgie."
Ron nodded in agreement with that. Hugging a pretty girl on a horse was not horrible, but if she was wearing a backpack; he knew from experience it wouldn't be nearly as fun, just ouchy.
They made their way out and Joss locked up after them. Unlike the trip from the bar to the motel, the ride to Ron's hotel was a bit long, owing to having been in the complete opposite direction from the meeting place the night before. After dropping him off, she rode off into the morning sunshine and Ron turned to go into his own rented room. He was feeling good, until he found Kim waiting in the lobby.
"Oh Naco crumbs."
AN: So I wasn't sure about the bits of this chapter centering round Ron and Joss. Because yeah, he's not acting like a relatively mature twenty-eight-year-old guy here, but more like a horny teen who knows he's a horny teen. But after some consideration, I decided to leave it in place anyway. This probably means a bit of tweaking to the next chapter or so, but I think it works well enough.