"So?" Kim asked Ron, as soon as they left her house on the way to school.
"Do I really have to answer?" Ron protested.
"Yes," she smirked right back at him.
"Okay, fine, she agreed to go out on a date with me and she agreed to help me figure out what we would do for it." He shook his head. "Should I be concerned about all the interest you're showing in my love life?"
He suddenly stopped. "Do I actually have a love life now?"
Laughing, Kim grabbed his arm and got him moving again.
"Bounce some of your ideas for a date off of me," Kim suggested. "I'll help you decide what to bring up to her, later today."
"KP, aren't you getting sort of...well...creepily interested in Tara and me?" He asked her. "I haven't even asked my folks if I can borrow their car yet and you're trying to make sure I make a good impression."
"It would seem creepy if it weren't for one little detail," Kim's laughter and smile faded. "Ron, you gave me the courage to speak to my crush and set up a date. In return, I locked you in that supply closet overnight. The least I can do is help you get started on the right foot with Tara. To be honest, I owe it to her, as a friend, to help the two of you get started on the right foot."
"Started on the right foot," Ron mused. "That reminds me, I was thinking dinner and a movie...or maybe a movie and dinner. Should I fit dancing in there, somewhere?"
"If that's the case, dinner is going to have to be light," Kim pointed out. She pulled out her Kimmunicator and used the WiFi to look over available movies that weekend. "Friday night is a game, so the two of you probably want to wait until Saturday for your date. Here are some movies I think she'd like."
"Wait a minute," Ron interrupted. "What are you going to be doing on Saturday night?"
"Josh has asked me out," she admitted. "I'll admit that I'm working with you to avoid running into each other. I think the four of us might want to double date sometime later, but right now it might get a little awkward. I think Tara will want you all to herself to start with."
"You're scaring me, KP. I want you to know that."
Kim just laughed and the two friends discussed what they thought Tara would enjoy, while walking the rest of the way to school. Somehow, planning the date with Kim made Ron strangely more comfortable with the fact that he actually had a date. Of course, they ran into Tara at school and once again, Ron wound up carrying her books for her, something that Kim was perfectly fine with. Ron was a little on the confused side, wondering why his best friend seemed to be more excited about him getting a girlfriend than he was. Still, he had to admit that Tara was a very nice person and seemed to be a lot of fun to be with.
Monday and Tuesday went fine for Ron; the free period that he and Tara spent on homework meant that he had very little to do after school. He continued to work his routines during cheer practices and Tara took some extra time, after the squad practice, to work with him to integrate herself into his new routine. Of course, the extra time after practice meant that he was obligated to walk her home afterwards. Something seemed so incredibly right about walking through the chilly, dark evening with her holding his arm. There was something so sweet about the quick, innocent kiss they would share when they reached her house. Maybe KP was right and he should pursue this. It made running through his routine at night seem even nicer.
Wednesday, things took a bit of a harsh turn. After cheer practice it was time to go to Kim's dojo for martial arts training. Ron was still worn out from cheer practice, but Kim and the Sensei had no mercy whatsoever! While KP pretty much handed him his...well...she outclassed him so badly that it wasn't funny, he actually held his own against the Sensei. Although they were exhausted, KP and him felt almost like kids as they walked home through the season's first snowfall. It was late by the time he finished what little homework remained and, for some reason, it felt right to slip outside and run through the ceremony again, barefoot, in the new snow.
On Thursday after school, Ron worked on the new routine in full costume while making sure he could still do the old routine. Kim had the entire squad perform the competitions routine, followed by Ron performing the one that had inadvertently saved their lives last week. Everything was ready for tomorrow night's game and for next weekend's competition. Afterwards, Kim had Tara and Ron perform the new, duet routine. The rest of the squad decided that while it could use some more work, they should perform it during the game tomorrow. Ron and Tara were very happy as he walked her home again.
Upon getting home, Ron ran through his routines in the backyard again, but didn't get the satisfaction from them that he had been. Confused and disappointed, he went to bed but couldn't sleep. He kept looking at his book bag, where his algebra book and the few homework questions he hadn't been able to finish were waiting. Giving up on sleep, he pulled out the book and finished his assignment. With a strange feeling, he sneaked out the back door and performed his routines in the back yard again. This time, he felt the satisfaction that he had come to crave. Now happy, he sneaked back to his room and a deep, undisturbed sleep.
Friday saw him with a sense of deep anticipation. He had performed as the mad dog dozens of times. He had performed the initial routine in front of an audience once before, to major approval. Tonight, he and Tara were going to do the dual routine at least once during a timeout or other short break. For some reason, the idea of doing the dual routine with a girl who wanted to date him made him nervous. If he flubbed it, he would make her look foolish and then where would they be?
Of course, that last thought brought up odd implications; wondering where they would be sort of implied that they were somewhere, now.
Still, the routine that he had gotten into helped him through the day. The library study session that he and Tara had established meant that the weekend would see very little distraction from studies and she assured them that they would be great on the court that evening. He shared a squeeze of the hand with her and managed to put his mind on his homework again.
While he wound up with algebra homework to take home again, he was pretty much on top of the academics when he left school. There would be no cheer practice that afternoon and he was a little disappointed that Tara choose to catch a ride home with Bonnie and Hope, rather than let him walk her home. He decided that he couldn't demand all of her time and caught a quick snack at Bueno Nacho on the way home, himself. Once home, he indulged in a little bit of digital zombie bashing, amazed by how much his skill had deteriorated since he had decided to take his workouts more seriously. Deciding that he wasn't accomplishing very much laying around the house, he went back to the gym.
Of course, the basketball players were warming up, so Ron went to the side gym that the cheerleaders used to warm up ahead of time. He went through his routine slowly and easily, loosening up his muscles while waiting for the rest of the squad. Kim was the first, as was her usual practice, followed by everyone else. They went through their routines again, making sure that they would be ready for the game, then it was time to move.
For the most part, cheering for the game went as usual, with Kim judging the audience's moods and calling for cheers and routines that matched it. During a timeout in the second quarter, she called for Ron and Tara to do their dual routine. There wasn't much interaction between Tara and Ron; the routine consisted of a tumbles, flips and other moves. Ron, in the full mad dog costume, performed them behind Tara when viewed from the home stands. While Ron went left to right, Tara went right to left. The only interaction between the two was a the end, when Ron performed a somersault towards the stands, ending kneeling on one knee. Tara did a back flip and ended sitting on Ron's extended leg, one arm thrown over his shoulders.
The crowd responded with applause that wasn't exactly thundering, but was more enthusiastic than merely polite. The two ran off the court as the teams came back on, to the congratulations of their squad mates.
"Good job," Kim told them. "I'd like you to keep working on this; get some more interaction between the two of you. It's fine now but has the potential to be a great deal more."
At halftime, they performed the competition routine again, followed by the ceremonial routine Ron had perfected those weeks ago. Again, the band's drummers hammered out the beat while the cheerleaders clapped and foot-stomped their way off of the court. Again, some of the crowd joined in the clapping and upon completion, Ron once again felt the energizing jolt he felt whenever he got it right in front of the crowd. Once again, to loud applause, he rushed off of the court.
The rest of the game proved to be standard as far as cheers were concerned. Kim was a good judge of keeping the crowd just entertained enough by the squad to not lose track of the game. There were a couple of routines, in which Ron performed his usual tumbling to compliment the rest. Finally, the game was over and the squad met in the side gym.
"Good job, everyone," Kim congratulated the squad. "We hit it perfect again, so we're going to be so ready to rock the competition next week!"
Everyone else clapped for themselves.
"Let's have a good weekend but, like Mr. Barkin says, don't enjoy ourselves too much. We want to be ready to go on Monday."
Tara found Ron and gave him another peck on the cheek. "See you tomorrow afternoon," she smiled at him. "Bonnie's invited Hope and me to her place to watch some movies and indulge in some girl talk. I hope you don't mind?"
"Why should I mind?" He asked. "Spend time with your friends!"
She simply gave him a peck on the other cheek, balancing things out, and joined the aforementioned two cheerleaders. To Ron's shock, both Bonnie and Hope offered him friendly smiles as they left.
"Wanna hit Bueno Nacho, KP?" He asked his friend.
"I'm meeting Josh," Kim told him. "Will you be okay alone?"
"Hey, I sidekick for a girl who fights super villains on a weekly basis," he reminded her. "I think I can make it home in the dark!"
She gave him a fond pat on the shoulder while she left. Ron left as well, sharing a high-five with Crystal.
To his own surprise, Ron felt no need to grande-size his naco meal when he stopped at his favorite fast food oasis. Also, the nacos seemed just a little unpleasantly greasy to him. Still, he ate every bite before going home. Once home, he found that he couldn't sleep; it was as if he needed one last bit of the rush his routines gave him. Not seeing any harm, he slipped outside and performed them, yet again, in the back yard but did not get the rush he had become accustomed to. Remembering the last time, he returned to his room and did the last of his algebra homework. Then returning to the back yard, he was able to perform his routine, feel the rush and go back to bed for a good night's sleep.
Saturday morning, he went to temple with his parents, followed by a sparring session at KP's dojo. Again, KP pretty much wiped the floor with him but he could stand up to the sensei. Kim told him that he should attend classes every Wednesday night and every Saturday morning, whenever possible. Ron agreed, hoping to get better on the missions. After training, it was time to go home, eat lunch and borrow his dad's car to pick up Tara.
The two had decided on a matinee, followed by an early dinner and dancing at a teen club. The matinee they had agreed on was a romantic comedy which Ron found that he enjoyed. He was very nervous at first, wondering if he should put his arm around his date. His blood pressure probably went up ten points when he placed his arm around her, then returned to normal when she smiled and slid a little closer to him. He decided that he needed some practice at this, since her head rested on his shoulder in just the perfect place to put his arm asleep. Still, there was no way he was going to move that arm during the movie. He just discreetly worked the arm, trying to get the feeling back, while she was visiting the ladies room after the movie.
Dinner was just as enjoyable as the movie. The two chatted, with Tara telling him about some times that Bonnie's ego and sense of entitlement had gotten her into embarrassing situations. Of course, Ron had experienced enough misadventures to fill a decent sized novel and he shared some of them with this very pretty blonde. It got to the point that she was laughing so hard that she was in danger of nose-squirting her soda onto her plate and had to tell him to stop. For all that, she was smiling when they left, claiming his arm and holding it, making him glad that he had gotten the feeling back in the appendage.
He found the dancing to be intimidating at first. While his work on the squad had given him some solid moves, he felt more than a little self-conscious dancing...as him...in a crowd. When he was with the squad, he was part of a group, had a choreographed routine to follow and had the wonderful anonymity of the mad dog costume to hide behind. Here, he was out on a floor, close to everyone and he was...him. What was more intimidating was Tara; a picture of pure grace and joy as she moved to the music in an absolutely mesmerizing way. Still, she smiled at him fondly rather than in a condescending manner.
"You move so well," he commented, when they took a break. "I could just sit here and watch you all night."
"Oh no you don't," she smiled and showed just a touch of a blush. "I want to dance with you."
They weren't going steady and there were plenty of other teens they knew in the crowd, so the two danced with several other people during the evening. Still, Tara seemed to open up a little more and dance a little closer whenever she danced with him. All too early it was time to call it quits and return her home.
When Ron drove her home, he was more than reluctant to say goodnight. Instead of having him leave, Tara checked in with her parents before asking him to sit with her on a porch swing for awhile. It was cold out, but a blanket was already on the swing, leading the boy to believe that she had planned things out just a little. Soon, they sat under the blanket, his arm around her while they looked up into the cold, clear night sky. Both were perfectly warm.
Ron couldn't say how long they sat on the swing or recall everything they talked about. He definitely remembered the point at which they started kissing. He remembered her hand sliding up behind his head, pulling him gently but firmly close and the taste of her mouth. When she broke the kiss, she tucked her head under his chin, resting her head against his chest with a sigh of contentment. He wished they could stay there all night but all too soon, the alarm on his watch went off, warning him that he had a curfew to meet, as well. She seemed equally reluctant for him to leave, kissing him goodnight/goodbye and seeing him off.
All in all, Ron Stoppable had to consider his first, real date to be a success.
Bells sounded throughout Fiske's castle, calling him, his minions, and his guest awake.
Despite the fact that he had been sleeping more and more poorly as this indeterminate date drew closer, Fiske was on out of his bed and on his feet in seconds. He was pulling on his clothing as he rushed out of his bedroom door and ran to his study, and the bank of television screens awaiting him. He prepared to bellow for his minions to get into position, but he realized that the countless drills he and young Mr. Lode had put them through were paying dividends at the moment. Every primate was in place or almost there.
Every primate but one.
"Is dat vat I'm thinking that it is?" Professor Dementor demanded of his increasingly unwelcoming host.
"It is either the alarm we have been awaiting or someone has installed two hundred and twenty-eight telephones in my castle, all of which are ringing at once!" Fiske sneered at the short man. "What do you think?"
Was it the bucket on his head that brought on these moments of idiocy or was it perhaps his short stature? Maybe being so short, he was forced to breath more carbon dioxide than was healthy, affecting his reasoning. Taking his position in the control room, Fiske turned off the alarms while scanning the screens in front of him. Mr. Lode's face appeared on one screen.
"Due west," Wade reported. "I'm deploying the drones now."
Fiske focused his attention on the screen the youngster had indicated and sure enough, the west gate had been forced open. Moments later, drone feeds appeared on the screen, showing footprints appearing in the soil. Fiske reached another control and activated the floodlights, bathing his fenced in yard in a harsh gleam.
"Is everyone in place," Mr. Lode asked.
"Everyone but a certain German," Fiske quipped. "He seems to have forgotten where we agreed for him to be."
"You'll not be goading me that much for very much longer," the professor growled. But he did spin on his heel and stalk out of the room.
"It might not be a good idea to aggravate a physicist of his capabilities," Wade warned the nobleman.
"He is a diminutive blowhard!" Fiske snapped. "While I am a master of Tai Shen Pek Kwar! What fear need I have of him?"
"He's also developed an electromagnetic rail propulsion device that could be weaponized," Wade pointed out.
"Speak English, please," Fiske grumbled.
"It means that he could loft a three hundred kilogram mass into a ballistic trajectory at very near orbital velocity," Wade noticed the Englishman's irritated look. "Okay, your martial arts training might not have covered this and being an archaeologist, you probably didn't take any math beyond trigonometry. When a three hundred kilogram mass strikes your castle at roughly fifteen times the speed of sound, the kinetic energy released will be somewhere between 'Oh My God' and Hiroshima."
"He could do that?" Fiske looked just a little less sure of himself.
"I don't see why not," Wade shrugged. "I could. It would take me nearly 72 hours to assemble, but I could it. Anyway, we're getting off of the topic at hand. It looks like we translated things correctly' the spirit seems unable to cross fences and it's walking diagonally to the pathways, suggesting that it can only travel along the cardinal directions."
"And it is approaching one of the points where my monkeys clambered over the fence," Fiske added.
"Well, there's one question answered," Wade commented after a few minutes. "If a primate climbs over the fence at any point, that point becomes a weak point that the spirit can force open."
"I hate to admit that I find myself admiring your thoroughness," Fiske murmured. "It is now reaching another of your test points. Ah! It broke through the fence where I had my monkeys set the posts, pass through the gap, then install the woven wire."
"I think that we can conclude that once a fence, or a wall, is set into place, any primate climbing over or through creates a weak point, at least according to the rules that the spirit must follow." Wade commented.
"Very interesting," Fiske agreed, his scientific curiosity momentarily overcoming his animosity towards Mr. Lode. "I wonder how close said primate must be to the barrier? For instance, if an aircraft were to pass over such a barrier, would it create the weak point?"
"Something I didn't think to test," Wade admitted. "Also, will the weak point rule hold true if there is a true gap in the barrier? In other words, if there is a gate, will the spirit go for the actual gate or use the weak point?"
"I failed to consider these issues, as well." Fiske's voice showed no sign of irritation or condescension. "Let us hope that we don't have the opportunity to test it."
He pressed a control, activating smoke generators. Moments later, the spirit could be seen as a hollow in the smoke, moving through the billowing clouds.
"Professor Dementor," Fiske keyed a microphone. "Are you in position and observing the target?"
"Ja!" A voice sounded through the speakers. "I have mien ray locked onto der target point. Estimated time for target to arrive, thirty eight seconds...mark!"
"He could have just said he was ready," Wade commented, from the far side of the world.
"You have no idea what conversations with him are like," Fiske shook his head. "Breakfast time is horrid. Who but he would eat sauerkraut for breakfast?"
"You seem awfully calm," Wade observed. "If this doesn't work, you'll be fleeing for your life."
"As per your instructions, my escape is fully prepared," Fiske shrugged. "We are now getting some idea of the limitations that our invisible guest labors under."
The two watched as the invisible spirit, observable due to the smoke swirling around it, approached the pre-selected target point.
"Firing!" Professor Dementor's joyous shout sounded through the speaker.
Outside the castle, it seemed like a hole in the air opened where the spirit strode forward. The hollow in the smoke vanished; smoke rushed into the gap and disappeared. Suddenly, the hole vanished, leaving the smoke to swirl around the disturbed point.
"Direct hit," the professor commented, his voice smug.
"It would appear that your suggestion worked," Fiske told the youngster on the far side of the world. "And Professor Dementor, it would appear that your hardware and skill are everything you have claimed, several times. My thanks to the two of you, every pound I spent has been well worth..."
Suddenly, the monkey-shaped hole in the smoke re-appeared.
"It would appear that der target can cross dimensional boundaries!" Professor Dementor shouted over the speaker. "I am re-calibrating for a second target point and a second alternate reality!"
"Lord Fiske, could I suggest you have one of your monkeys start your car?" Wade said. "You might be wanting to leave, shortly."
"Excellent suggestion, young man." Monty was scared, but maintained his composure in front of Kim Possible's technical man and his own minions. "Chippy, go start the car and make sure the doors are unlocked this time. Tommy, make sure my escape bag is ready."
Two monkeys scrambled off.
"Target approaching der secondary aiming point!" Professor Dementor notified them. "Firing!"
Again, a hole in the air opened, drawing smoke and the spirit into it. This time, the hole had an evil, red tint to it. Again, the hole vanished and smoke continued to swirl. Three humans, and several other simians, watched in rapt attention.
"It vas able to re-appear by this time, der last time," Professor Dementor noted.
"So what does it mean?" Wade asked. "Does it take longer to return from this new dimension or is it unable to return at all?"
"I would have to say that it just takes longer," Fiske kept his voice calm, even though his heart had dropped into his stomach. Again, the hole in the smoke had appeared.
"I have vun more shot," Professor Dementor announced. The lights in the castle dimmed. "Dis vill be der farthest dimension! I must draw all available energy!"
Wade and Monty watched as the spirit broke another gate and continued, now mere meters from Fiske's front door.
"Firing!" Dementor's voice sounded once again.
This time the lights went out and Fiske found himself in a room illuminated only by the television screens. This time, the hole in reality had a sickly, greenish tint to it and once again, the spirit vanished. Again, the hole in reality vanished, once again.
"I'm forced to wonder if we did a wise thing," Fiske admitted. "Will the spirit return in minutes, hours, days or even years from now, when my guard is down?"
"Better a threat you know than one you're not expecting," Wade agreed. "You know Fiske, I would almost feel sorry for you if you hadn't planned on catching my friends by surprise with this very spirit."
"Feel free to confront me later," Fiske told him.
"Der creature had returned from the first alternate dimension at this time...mark!" Dementor's voice sounded.
"You've been timing from the first attempt?" Wade asked, as Fiske's lights came back on.
"Of course!" Dementor's voice sounded smug. "I am a professional physicist!"
Neither Wade nor Fiske had a witty rejoinder, as they hadn't been timing the target. Instead, they watched the screens until...
"Time on der second incident," Dementor announced. "Continuing to monitor."
"It would be so much easier to cheat him of his fees if he wasn't so bloody thorough," Fiske grumbled to Wade. "He's despicable, but a complete professional. You get everything he promises...even a bit more."
"Just to be on the safe side," Wade suggested. "Have you thought of taking a short vacation? Maybe leave your monkeys to keep your property up, leave the monitoring equipment in place, and leave for a few months? That way, if the spirit returns it won't be right under your feet."
"I was thinking that an extensive visit to the temples and priests devoted to Hanuman, all through India, may be in order," Fiske replied. "While I will remain here for another few hours, watching. Perhaps a nice, five-week trip to immerse myself in a more peaceful monkey deity might be in order."
"Either put der vacation plans on hold or execute them right now!" Dementor shouted over the speakers. "Something's coming through!"
Sure enough, the swirling smoke revealed that the spirit had returned.
"Mr. Lode, please contact Mr. Killigan and let him know that I will be imposing upon him to be his guest, like we had planned." Fiske told the younger man. "To my faithful monkey ninjas, don't impede the invader's progress, he isn't after you. Simply repair any damage it inflicts upon my property. Professor Dementor, simply stay out of the spirit's way. When you return to your lair, you will find the agreed upon funds shifted to an account you can access."
The front door of the Fiske's castle shattered, the thick wood turning to fragments that tore into the furnishings in his great hall. Safe for the moment in his study, Fiske watched the display on a screen for a moment before turning towards his bedchamber.
Once in his bedroom, the nobleman threw a prepacked backpack over his shoulders and grabbed two bags. As he left the bedroom's back door, one of the doors in his main hall shattered. Walking swiftly but not running, Fiske descended his back stairs and exited through a rear door. Chippy had his car running and the trunk open, just outside the garage. Picking up the pace a bit, Fiske quickly tossed his baggage into the trunk, closed it and hopped into the drivers seat.
"We are about to spend a couple of weeks in Scotland," the nobleman informed Chippy and the other two monkeys that accompanied him. "It will take the spirit much less time to reach Killigan's Island than it took it to reach us here. Still, I have another plan. Of course, this plan involves a great deal more risk for me."
While he had left his abode many times in his life, Fiske had never been forced out of it. The castle, receding in his rear-view mirror, was the saddest sight of his life.
A/N: Thanks for reading. Fond thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for his beta efforts.