Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the Kim Possible series are all owned by Disney.

Chapter 4 - A Night at the Opera

Monique had a vague idea what to expect at the opera. She wanted another chance to be seen in her red dress, it looked good on her. She wasn't sure which would be more boring - Will or the opera. But he treated her like a queen and that felt good.

Guilt nagged in the back of her mind. Going out with him so she could dump him quietly at the end of the evening sounded underhanded. He was a nice guy, even if he had opened her eyes to the meaning of the word stogy. He treated her with respect, but the opera and the symphony? Mr. Du obvious suffered from weird tastes or had no clue what a young woman might want.

Will extended an invitation for dinner before the opera, but she politely declined - suggesting however that they stop for coffee or dessert after the performance.

Her mother came into her room and fretted as Monique finished getting ready for the opera.

"I love you. You know that. And I trust you. But I don't know him. Why is he asking you out?"

Monique smiled, "Maybe its because I'm a pretty girl."

"Taking you out to fancy places? I don't trust him."

"I think I can trust him more than anyone else I've ever gone out with."

"You really like him that much?"

"No, Momma. I don't really like him. But he's a real gentleman. He's kind of shy and doesn't really know what to say. But he's got a good heart."

"So you will see him again?"

"You weren't listening, Momma," Monique laughed. "I said I really don't like him. Yes, he is a gentleman and a nice guy, but he's not what I want."

"You don't want a gentleman and a nice guy?"

Monique laughed again, "Sounds silly when you say it that way. I want someone who'll take me dancing and I can talk to, but fun. Whoever he is, I hope he'll treat me as well as Will does."

"Like spending a lot of money on you?"

"Hush, Momma. He spent way too much on that first date and those flowers. I'm only going to the opera because he got the tickets for free."

"That's what he told you anyway."

"I believe him. He seems like an honest man."

"He's honest and a gentleman - and you won't go out with him again?"

"Momma," Monique snapped in exasperation. "You come in here to tell me not to trust the man, and that I shouldn't go out with him again. And I tell you I don't plan to see him again. And now I hear you saying I should see him again."

"The first thing you ever told me about Will was that your daddy would have liked him. If you really think that, and he is a nice guy, I'm just saying-"

"Tell me, what did you think when you first met daddy?"

"You know that old story."

"Course I know it. Now tell me again. What did you think the first time you met daddy?"

"Well, my heart was beatin' so loud it was a little hard to tell what I was thinking. But I believe it was something along the lines of, 'That's the man I'm going to marry'."

"Momma, when I met Will my heart was telling me, 'I just have to put up with him for this party and I never have to see him again'."

"Well, fast doesn't always mean right. It took your daddy months to realize I was the woman for him. And your Uncle Jack knows 'she is the right woman' every time. I can't believe how many have been fool enough to believe that line."

Will arrived, as expected, exactly on time. Monique glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall as she answered the door, "Momma, the kitchen clock is slow."

Monique smiled as she saw the older car parked at the curb, "Now, isn't that more honest?" she smiled.

Will gritted his teeth and said nothing. He'd traded the Beemer for the evening with a man who worked for his cousin the banker. He hoped it came back without any dents.

"Thank you," she told him warmly as he opened the car door for her.

On the drive to the Upperton opera house she asked about his week and quickly regretted the question. Kim could make rescuing a cat from a tree into an interesting story. Will made pursuit of Shego sound boring. And his primary project, tracing a criminal group working across several borders in Central America, made the attempt to arrest Shego sound fun.

"It's not as exciting as it looks in the movies and on television, is it?" Monique asked when he paused to breathe.

"No one appreciates the importance of procedures and paperwork. You need to verify that everything has been done, and done according to the law. You can't just go halfway around the world and beat up someone because you don't like the colors on their national soccer team."

"I suppose not, but it would make a better movie."

Maybe it was listening to Will on the drive over. Perhaps it was the plot of Aida, but the black woman found herself enjoying the opera far more than she would have dreamed possible. She devoured the opera notes between acts, and not simply to avoid talking with the man beside her.

At the end, as they waited for enough people to leave to make their own exit possible, Monique teased, "I don't know much about opera, but I thought it wasn't supposed to be over until the fat lady sings."

Will smiled, "Those are Wagner's operas. Aida isn't over until the Ethiopian princess dies."

"That's a really rotten ending. It's so sad."

"How about Romeo and Juliet, did you want that one to end with them alive?"

"Well, yeah."

"Not how it works," Will argued. "People want tragedy. Makes their own lives seem happier in comparison."

"Let's continue this conversation over coffee, I think we can get out now."

Back at the car Monique asked a different question as he opened the car door for her, "Tell me, Mr. Bond, do you really like this opera stuff?"

He thought for a minute as he moved to his side of the car and got in. "Yeah, I guess so. My mother always dragged me along with her. I was usually the youngest person there. She said it would be good for me, expose me to culture and teach me to sit still with my mouth shut." Monique smiled as he continued, "I think I hated it for a several years. I wanted to watch and listen to other things. But over time I came to realize this is good music. Great music. It's been around for more than a hundred years and still moves people. Do you think people will know who Batina and N.C. Honey are in a hundred years?"

Monique laughed, "You are positively a young fossil. And it appears to me that you don't even know who Britina and M.C. Honey are now."

Will fell silent. He didn't like to have anyone hear him make a mistake.

"If it makes you feel any better," she told him, "I think Britina had already fallen into nowhere."

Changing the subject he asked where she might like to stop for a minute on their way home.

"Stop anyplace where it looks like we could talk. I have a coffee shop I really like in Middleton, but we can't go there."

"Why not?"

"You want to risk running into Kim and Shego?"

"No," he said quickly.

"What's your problem with them, Sherlock?"

He hesitated. "I like Miss Possible, but two women just seems… I don't like to sound like… I think it's wrong."

"Seems a little weird to me too."

"And Shego is a criminal. Kim should be trying to arrest her."

"Yeah, Kim's got a lot of inner struggle going on right now."

They spotted a Greek diner on the edge of Upperton and ordered coffee and pie.

The waitress looked at them curiously, and Monique accepted it was because they were the only people in formal attire there. They talked around a half hour before Monique worked up the courage to say, "You know, Will, there is no point in you asking me out again."

He looked thunderstruck, "Why not?"

She looked through the reasons listed in her mind, but some sounded too petty or shallow, so she went with what she hoped would be an easy excuse and laid her hand down beside his on the table, "That really doesn't bother you at all?"

He paused only a heartbeat before answering, "I don't think so."

"Really?" her tone of voice suggested her doubts.

"I grew up being told it shouldn't matter. I believe that."

"Believing in your head and feeling with your heart aren't always the same. Tell me, how many of 'us' do you really know?"

"Well, several of the servants when I was growing up-"

"Several of the servants?" She decided maybe she didn't need to worry about him spending so much.

"Yes, but I-"

"Look, maybe this is just symptomatic of the problem rather than being the problem. I think our tastes are just too different for us to ever be happy with each other. I'm sorry, Will. You're a nice guy. You'll make some girl very happy, but not me."

He stared off into space, wanting to plead with her but not knowing what to say. "No way?" he finally managed.

"No way," she assured him.

"You really didn't like either of our dates?"

She hesitated, "Okay, I'm being honest with you. Aida was a whole lot more fun than I expected." He started to smile, but she brought him up short, "But I expected it to be so bad I'd gnaw my leg off to get out of the trap. You really enjoyed tonight?"

He looked into her eyes, "It was the most I've enjoyed an evening in my life."

She sighed, knowing he wasn't talking about the opera. "Look, Will. I don't like the things you enjoy. You wouldn't enjoy the things I like."

"You don't know that!"

"I'm trying to be honest with you. Look, next Saturday night they've got a group playing at the Onion-"

"The Onion?"

"Sorry, the Middleton U Student Union. Anyway, I know you've never heard of them but I've got their CD, fun music - good for dancing. You want to come hang with me, be my guest?"

"I'd love to."

"No, Sherlock, you won't. You'll be miserable."

He smiled, "I don't think I could be miserable with you."

From anyone else it would have been insincere flattery. She believed he really meant what he said. She reminded herself she was doing this for his own good, she had to make him realize there was no point in their seeing each other.

When they got back to her apartment she waited as he came around and opened the car door for her. He escorted her to the front door and stood, watching as she found her key. Monique felt an attack of pre-guilt for the pain she would put him through. "You don't need to come with me to the Onion next Saturday."

"I want to," he assured her as she opened the door and went in.

She kicked herself mentally as she went up the stairs, "This is not the way to say thank-you to a guy who has been nothing but nice to me."