Disclaimer: Kim Possible still belongs to the House of Mouse. This little lab rat's just borrowing them for fun, not profit.
Thanks once more to Slipgate for beta-reading; on this chapter especially, his comments, suggestions and ideas have been invaluable.
Chapter Six: Secret Ingredients
"Oof!"
Ron woke up the same way he had most mornings that summer—suddenly, with the weight of a four-year-old bouncing onto his belly.
"Morning, Brother!" Hana called out cheerfully.
"Good morning, Han," Ron groaned. "I don't suppose I could get another five minutes, huh? Where's the snooze button on you?" Hana giggled as he poked her belly button.
Ron let his eyes slide shut again, hoping that maybe she really would leave and let him get a little more sleep. After the way the previous day had gone, he wasn't exactly looking forward to facing another one.
He had made it back to Chez Couteaux just as they were closing up for the night and, true to his word, the maître d' had been waiting there with the ring safely in hand. Ron had been so relieved he'd hugged the surprised man. But that was about the only good thing he had to show for the night. He had the ring, but he had no idea where to go from here.
"Brother's getting married!"
Ron's eyes snapped open again. "What did you just say, Hana?"
"You're getting married!" she said, all too happy to repeat herself. "Kimmie's gonna marry you, and she's gonna wear a big pretty white dress, and I get to wear a dress, too, and be the flour girl. That means I pour flour everywhere, like Kimmie did when she tried to make you a cake for your birthday. Oh, there's gonna be a big fancy cake, too, with lots of frosting, and I get my very own piece!"
Ron sat up, causing the little girl to slide down into his lap, where she continued her excited babbling. "Moooommm!" he cried out.
Both of his parents appeared in the doorway a minute later, looking concerned. "What's the matter, Ronnie?" his mother asked.
"You told Hana I was proposing?"
"Of course I did," Jean said, walking into the room and picking up the little girl. "She's your sister. Why wouldn't you want her to know you're getting engaged?"
"Because she's four, Mom. She repeats everything she hears and she doesn't know how to keep a secret."
"Well, I didn't know there was going to be a secret to keep after last night," Jean said defensively, and Ron's shoulders slumped.
Gene came to his wife's side and took their daughter from her. "We'll work on the concept of 'secrets' with Hana, Ronald. You just concentrate on fixing dinner and don't worry about anything else."
"Dinner?" Ron asked.
"Oh, that's right," Jean said. "You were so exhausted by the time you finally got home last night, we didn't tell you."
"Tell me what?" Ron asked, looking back and forth between his parents worriedly.
"Just that we thought of another way for you to propose to Kimberly, Son," his father said.
"We?"
"Us and James and Ann," Gene explained. "After you took off last night. We thought maybe we could help."
"What is it?" Ron asked, still looking uncertain.
"We thought you could make a nice, big dinner for both of our families tonight," Jean said, "and then propose during the meal."
Ron gulped. "In front of everybody?"
"Well, yes, dear."
"We know it's not exactly a private romantic evening like you were planning before," Gene said, "but you did say you didn't want to do the same thing on your second try."
"And Kim's so close to her parents," Jean continued. "We thought she would appreciate you proposing to her at a nice family dinner like that. We are all going to be family soon, after all." Ron smiled appreciatively at his mother's optimism.
"Only if you want to, of course, Ronald," Gene said, as he set Hana down on the ground. "This is still your proposal. We just wanted to help out with a suggestion, like we said."
Ron sat and thought about it for a minute. It was one more idea than he'd been able to come up with in his fitful sleep. And while it wasn't the romantic night he had planned originally, maybe it could be romantic in its own way. Certainly it was going to take more courage to propose in front of everyone, and there was something romantic in that, wasn't there? He could make the perfect meal for her, too. Chez Couteaux was nice, but it had nothing on Chez Ron.
And the sooner he proposed, the sooner Kim would understand why he'd been so preoccupied on the mission last night.
He smiled and nodded. "I think it's a great idea," he said, standing up and pulling his parents into a hug. "Thanks, you guys. This is going to be perfect."
Down at their feet, Hana clapped. "Brother's getting married!" Ron groaned as Gene and Jean quickly ushered the little girl out of his room, promising a good long talk on the subject of secrets.
Down the street, Kim woke up almost as reluctantly as Ron had. She touched her ribs gingerly, wincing as she hit a sore spot on the right side that she was certain was exactly the size and shape of Shego's boot.
"I thought I noticed you favoring your right side when you went up the stairs last night."
Kim sat up with a look of surprise to find her mother sitting on the end of her bed. She lay back with a frown. It wasn't the first time her mother had been able to sneak up on her, but after the night she'd just had, it vexed her. "I'm fine," she muttered. "Nothing broken."
"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" Ann said as she got up and walked over to the right side of the bed.
Kim sighed, but obediently pulled her shirt up to let her mother get a look. She did her best not to squirm or hiss as Ann prodded the large purple bruise. "What happened?"
"Shego," Kim said. When her mother raised her eyebrows, asking silently for further explanation, she added, "She kicked me. Hard—obviously."
Ann frowned. "What happened to Ron?"
Kim sat up with a scowl. "Why?" she snapped. "I should have been able to handle Shego with or without Ron."
Ann's frown deepened. "That's not what I meant, Kim. I meant, I assume that something happened to Ron to distract you long enough for Shego to be able to land this kick."
"Oh," Kim said, abashed. "Well, yes, that's true. He... he was fighting Drakken and got thrown into some shelves. After losing his pants."
"Was he all right?"
"Yeah, a little banged up, but he seemed fine."
Ann paused, pursing her lips. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, Mom," Kim answered impatiently. "I told you, I'm just a little sore. And didn't you just check me over for yourself?"
"That's not what I meant either, Kim," Ann replied, staring seriously into her daughter's eyes.
Kim opened her mouth, not sure what she planned to say, when the phone rang from her bedside table.
Brrrnnng!
Kim broke away from her mother's scrutinizing gaze to look at the caller ID. "That's Monique, Mom. I'd better answer," she said, doing little to conceal her relief at the interruption.
Ann sighed. "All right," she said, walking toward the door. "See you in a few minutes for breakfast?"
"Sure," Kim said, nodding distractedly as she picked up the phone. "Hey, Monique."
"Don't 'hey, Monique' me, girl," her friend answered sharply.
Kim stared at the phone, confused. "Ummm..."
"I tried to wait patiently, I really did, but it's almost nine o'clock. I cannot believe you haven't called me to STB! I thought I was your best friend!"
Kim shook her head, trying to decide which of the many questions currently swirling through her head to ask first. She settled on the most obvious one. "STB?"
"Spill the beans!" Monique explained impatiently.
"About what?"
"Hello? About last night, of course!"
"Last night?" Kim could only think of one significant thing that had happened last night, and although she couldn't really fathom why Monique would have any interest in it, her still sleepy brain insisted that it must be what her friend was referring to. "Oh, Monique, I really don't want to talk about it."
"What?" Monique exclaimed. "How can you not want to talk about it?"
"I don't think it's that hard to understand why I wouldn't want to relive it, Monique. It was awful!"
"Awful?"
"Yes, awful! So you'll forgive me if I don't feel like giving you the blow by blow." Kim paused for a moment. "How do you even know about it anyway? Did Wade tell you again?"
"N-no. I just—"
"Oh no," she interrupted with a groan. "It's not on the news, is it?"
"Now you're getting a little big-headed, Kim," Monique shot back. "But would it really be so terrible if it was on the news?"
"Yes!" Kim cried. "It would be totally embarrassing!"
"Kim, I can't believe you! Even if, from the sound of it, things didn't go exactly the way Ron planned—"
"The way Ron planned?" Kim interrupted again, temper flaring. "Ron may have been in charge of the missions all summer, but I was back in the lead last night. And I should have been able to take Drakken and Shego down no problem."
"Drakken and Shego?" Monique asked. "What do they have to do with it?"
Kim blinked. "They're the ones who broke into the museum last night—and the ones who got away from me and Ron." She paused again. "Who did you think we were talking about?"
On the other end of the line, the pieces of the puzzle were quickly clicking into place for Monique—at least enough for her to realize that she and Kim had been having two completely unrelated conversations for the last five minutes. "Oh," she stammered, "I just—the news didn't say who did the, uh... break-in. And Drakken and Shego—haven't they been out of the evil game for a few years now?"
"Yeah," Kim muttered, already tired of hearing that question—especially since her own mind kept repeating it. "That's what we thought, too."
"Wow," Monique said, still processing. "So... sounds like you had a pretty eventful night."
Kim sighed. "You could say that, yeah."
"But, uh... nothing else new to report?"
"Let's see: Drakken and Shego are back, they stole something from the museum, we don't know what or why, and I let them get away like a total amateur," Kim said. "Nope, I think that pretty much covers it."
"Okay..." Monique said slowly. "Well, let me know first thing if there are any new developments—you know, on the Drakken and Shego front... or anything else that might come up..."
Kim was still puzzled by Monique's sudden interest in her mission work, but her curiosity was overshadowed by a twinge of guilt for snapping at first her mother and now her best friend. She resolved then and there that she wouldn't do the same to Ron when she saw him. It wasn't his fault, and anyway, snapping at him wouldn't help with getting him to open up about what was bothering him.
"Sure, Monique. I'll ask Wade to keep you up to date—he should appreciate that," she said with a little smile.
"Kim..." Monique warned.
"Sorry," Kim said quickly. "And sorry for jumping down your throat. It's nice of you to care."
"Hey, as a friend of mine likes to say, no big. TTYL, okay?"
"Yeah, okay," Kim said. She dropped the phone back into its cradle and climbed out of bed.
As she descended the stairs, she was greeted by a wonderful aroma. "Whatever you're cooking for breakfast, Mom, it smells delicious," she said as she rounded the corner into the kitchen—only to find herself nose to nose not with her mother, but with Ron.
"Morning, KP," he said, giving her a cheerful smile as he stirred something vigorously in a bowl. "Glad you like it, but it's not for breakfast—sorry."
Kim looked around the kitchen, confused. "Ron, what are you doing?"
Her mother walked into the kitchen at that moment. "Oh, I forgot to tell you earlier, Kimmie," she said. "We thought it would be nice to have a big family dinner with the Stoppables tonight, and of course Ron wanted to be the one to cook it."
"And since your dining room is bigger than ours," Ron chimed in, "it made more sense to have it over here—so it made more sense to cook it over here, too. Though I do have a couple of dishes going in the oven at home, too."
"A couple of dishes?" Kim echoed as she looked around the kitchen again. She could make out the silhouette of one thing in the Possibles' oven, there were two pots bubbling on the stovetop, and bowls and measuring cups were scattered across the counter. "What are you planning on feeding us, Ron, a ten-course meal?"
Ron just smiled and gave her a quick kiss as he walked by on his way to the refrigerator. "Nothing but the best for you, KP."
"Don't you mean 'us?'" she asked.
"Huh?"
"Nothing but the best for us," she said. "You did say this was a family dinner, right?"
"Oh, right. Of course—that's what I meant," Ron said, cracking two eggs and pouring their contents into his bowl with practiced ease. "A big family dinner." He looked up at her uncertainly. "That sounds nice... right?"
Kim smiled and leaned over to kiss him, letting her lips linger a little longer than his had a few moments earlier. "It sounds wonderful," she said. "Guess I'd better leave you to it then."
Ron pouted. "You could stay and help."
"Nuh uh," Kim said, shaking her head and laughing. "You just said you wanted this to be a nice dinner, remember?"
With one last kiss to his cheek, she sauntered out of the kitchen, already feeling better than she had when she'd woken up.
Ron's eyes lingered on her as she walked away, forgetting for a moment all about the bowl of batter in his hands that he was supposed to be stirring.
Though neither of them would have guessed it, at that moment they both had the same thought: Today has got to be better than yesterday.
There were some things that, no matter how hard she tried, Kim was never going to be as good at as Ron. Cooking was near the top of the list. At one time that had rankled her over-competitive nature, but over the years she had learned to accept and even appreciate it. It helped that she got to reap the benefits of Ron's culinary skill.
It also helped that when Ron was doing something he loved, he was utterly adorable. Of course, she would never have admitted to that particular perk back when they first took home ec together. But she had no qualms about enjoying it now. So despite her earlier teasing, Kim did venture back into the kitchen after showering and getting dressed.
She giggled when she found Ron with his back to her, humming and dancing along to an Oh Boyz song playing on the little portable radio he'd set up on the counter. Ron spun around and gave her a goofy grin that melted her heart, then stuck a spatula up to his mouth like a microphone and started singing at the top of his lungs. "Hello, hello, hellooo, can you heeear me noooow…"
After the impromptu serenade, and a round of amused applause from Kim, Ron got back to work. Kim stayed in the kitchen, chatting and joking with him, and even helping out a bit—even she could chop vegetables. A few times she considered bringing up last night, but he was in such a good mood now that she was loathe to remind him of whatever had been weighing on him before. She decided instead to boost his already high spirits and trust that if something really was wrong, he'd tell her when he was ready. Around noon she left without offering any explanation. His eyes lit up with pleased surprise when she walked back into the kitchen half an hour later with two bags of Bueno Nacho for lunch.
Kim didn't spend all day in the kitchen, though. After lunch, she went out to the backyard and ran through several katas, hands and feet slicing through the humid air with practiced precision. Then she challenged Jim and Tim to a few sparring matches—ostensibly to evaluate their skills, but also to sharpen her own. The next time Drakken and Shego showed up, she was going to be ready.
"Ron says it'll be just a few more minutes," Ann said as she greeted the rest of the Stoppables at the door that evening.
"Of course," Jean said with a smile. "Is there anything I can help with?"
"Well, I was just setting the table."
While Gene went to find James in his study, Jean followed Ann into the dining room, with Hana trailing along behind them. As soon as the little girl entered the room, her eyes locked onto the elaborate glass chandelier that hung over the table. "Ooh, pretty!" she cried, running forward.
Jean grabbed her arm, halting her with practiced ease. "Only look, Hana," she said firmly. "No touching."
Hana pouted a little, but nodded obediently.
Ann couldn't help but chuckle. Most parents wouldn't have any need to warn a four-year-old to not touch something that was eight feet off the ground, but Hana, she knew, was... unique. And as the mother of three other unique children, she could relate.
"It is quite lovely, Ann," Jean said, admiring the hundreds of glittering glass facets.
"Oh, thank you," Ann said, handing her some forks. "With the boys leaving for college soon, I convinced James it might finally be safe to get something a little fancier."
"Perfect for a special occasion," Jean said, and the two mothers shared a secret smile.
"Dinner's ready!" Ron called out from the kitchen.
Kim hadn't been far off the mark when she'd asked Ron if he was planning a ten-course meal. The two families chatted amiably as they made their way through his fresh-baked rolls, summer salad and butternut squash soup. Ron and Kim answered questions about their plans for their senior year of college, and the Tweebs chimed in with stories about their recent tour of MIST, which prompted quite a bit of reminiscing from the other adults about their own college days.
But as the meal progressed to the main course, a prime rib roast with twice-baked potatoes and asparagus, they soon fell into a companionable silence, interrupted only by the sound of forks and knives scraping plates. Ron had outdone himself.
Rufus, at his designated spot next to Ron's plate, patted his distended belly contentedly, and let out a loud belch.
"Rufus," Ron hissed, frowning at him. He didn't normally make any complaints about his little buddy's table manners—or lack thereof—but tonight was special. He was pretty sure Kim's idea of a perfect evening didn't include burping hairless rodents.
But Kim didn't look bothered in the least, and James Possible actually chuckled as he leaned back in his chair and patted his own stomach. "Well, Ronald," he said, "I agree with Rufus. That was absolutely delicious."
There were murmurs of agreement from around the table, and Ron was more than a little pleased to see Kim smiling proudly at him. "Thanks," he said, "but it's not quite over yet. There's still dessert!"
That announcement prompted a mixture of groans and laughs from the other eight people sitting around the table.
"But first," Ron continued, standing up from the table and lifting his glass into the air, "I'd like to propose a toast."
James, Ann, Gene and Jean all grinned expectantly. And Gene clamped a hand over Hana's mouth, just in case.
Ron took a deep breath, drawing strength from their encouraging smiles, then focused his attention on Kim alone and lifted his glass a little higher. "To Kim," he said. "I—ack!" he cried out as something crashed into the glass, sending cider and shards of glass raining down on the table.
"Yeah, direct hit!" Jim cried, high-fiving his brother.
"Hicka bicka boo!"
"Hoosha!"
Ron was still standing there, blinking at the stem of his broken glass. He finally looked up to see what had just crashed into it, expecting to see the Tweebs' usual rocket or missile. Instead he saw... a Viking ship?
"Tweebs!" Kim shouted.
"It was your idea, Kim," Tim said.
"Yeah," Jim nodded, shrugging. "You told us we could make them more high-tech."
"We're just testing out the prototype."
Kim looked ready to launch herself across the table to wring her smugly grinning brothers' necks. Ron, still recovering from his shock, was just cognizant enough to decide that he wouldn't try to stop her if she tried; he might even help. After all, she had no idea how angry she really should be. As far as she knew, all they had interrupted was what probably would have been a sweet if clumsy toast from her boyfriend.
Before Kim or anyone else could do anything, though, Hana slipped out from under her father's hand, hopped out of her chair, and, giggling wildly, went running up the wall and across the ceiling, arms outstretched toward the little wooden ship that was still zipping around the room.
"Cool!" Jim and Tim exclaimed together, and Jim pulled out the remote control he'd hidden under the table and began steering the ship around, trying his best to keep it out of the little girl's reach.
Everyone else just sat there, dumbfounded and dizzy from following the ship and the little girl as they whizzed around the room at lightning speed—narrowly avoiding collision with Ann's new chandelier more than once—until a familiar sound broke them all out of their stupor.
Beep beep ba deep!
Kim glared at the Tweebs one more time, gave Ron an apologetic look, and stepped toward the living room. "I'd better get this," she mumbled. Hitting a button on her wrist Kimmunicator, she saw Wade's familiar smiling face appear. "What's up, Wade?"
Wade lifted an eyebrow. "Uh, what's all that noise behind you?"
"Dinner with the fam," Kim said, distancing herself further from the cacophony. "Fams, actually—mine and Ron's."
"Ah, that explains it."
"Yeah." Kim sighed.
"Sorry to interrupt."
Kim shook her head. "No need to apologize. You probably saved the Tweebs' lives. So—news?"
Wade shook his head. "Just wanted to update you on our progress, but I don't really have anything to report just yet. I did get the curator of the museum to give me access to his electronic records on everything that was in that storage room before you guys, uh... before Drakken and Shego trashed it." Kim winced. "He seemed, um... kind of reluctant to let me in when I mentioned I was with Team Possible..."
Kim pinched the bridge of her nose. "Long story, Wade."
He nodded, knowing better than to pry any further. "Well, anyway, I've been searching through the files trying to figure out what Drakken and Shego might have been after... but it's kind of hard to know what to look for. Hitting a museum was never exactly their M.O."
Kim frowned. She hadn't stopped to think about that. "You're right," she said. "Secret government labs were always more their style."
"Maybe they're working for someone else?" Wade suggested.
Kim considered the idea for a moment, but shook her head. "No. Shego's a mercenary, but Drakken? He'd never work for anyone but himself."
"I don't know, Kim. A lot can change in a few years." Kim gave him a skeptical look. "You did say you saw them—" he shuddered— "kissing, right? Would you have guessed they'd be doing that a few years ago?"
Kim allowed a small smirk. "No, I guess not. But where does that leave us?"
"Well, I'll run a cross-check between the museum's records and all the 'evil' want ads for a start," Wade said, running his fingers across the keyboard with his usual efficiency. "And I'll keep an eye and an ear out for any sightings of our old friends in blue and green."
"Thanks, Wade. You rock as always."
Meanwhile, in the dining room, the adults around the table had finally gotten over their surprise and jumped into action.
Ann Possible got up from her seat and came to stand behind Jim and Tim, who were still laughing as they took turns piloting their rocket-powered Viking ship around the room. "Boys," Ann hissed, grabbing each of her sons by an ear.
"Ow, Mom!" Tim yelped in surprise, dropping the remote to the table. With no one controlling it, the ship crashed into a wall and crumpled to the floor in a smoldering heap.
"What's the big deal?" Jim cried.
"What's the big deal?" Ann echoed angrily. "Ron is trying to propose to your sister, and you two are ruining it!"
The twins' eyes grew wide, and they both turned toward Ron. "What?"
Ron just nodded at them and slumped down in his seat.
"Why didn't you say so?" Tim asked.
"Yeah," Jim said. "We just wanted to make dinner interesting, but if we'd known you were proposing—"
"Even we wouldn't try to screw that up," Tim finished.
"That's great," Ron muttered under his breath, "because I can screw it up all on my own. No help necessary."
"What's that, Ronald?" James asked.
"Nothing." Ron sighed, forcing himself to sit up straighter.
"I'm sorry," Ann said, as she released her hold on Jim and Tim's ears—after giving them a final tweak that the boys knew meant 'we'll discuss this later.' "I just assumed you had told the boys, too, Ron."
"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess this proves that I should have. Sorry, guys, I just didn't think about it."
His mother gave him a comforting smile. "You've had a lot on your mind lately, Ronnie."
He shook his head and sighed again. "Well, now that everybody knows what's going on, can we please try to salvage this dinner and act normal for just a few minutes—for KP?"
"Of course, Son," Gene said. "Hana," he called out to the blur still zipping around the walls and ceiling of the dining room, apparently not really caring that there was no longer anything to chase.
The little girl skidded to a stop immediately. She just happened to be right in the middle of the ceiling as she did so. "Yes, Daddy?" she asked, smiling sweetly at him as her pigtails hung down above her ears.
"Do you remember what we talked about—when you're a guest at someone else's house...?"
"Manners?" she said, in the same tone that she usually reserved for words like "medicine" and "bedtime."
Gene nodded. "That's right. And how do we show our manners?"
"No running on the ceiling?"
He nodded again and pointed firmly at her empty chair. In the blink of an eye, the little girl was down off the ceiling and sitting in her seat, hands folded in her lap, looking for all the world like a perfectly normal—and perfectly well-behaved—little girl.
Ron sat back in his chair and let out a sigh of relief. Now all he had to do was wait for Kim to get back from her call with Wade. Then he'd propose the toast again, get down on one knee, pull out the ring... His hand wandered instinctively down to his pocket—and his heart stopped. There was nothing there.
His eyes widened and he sat up again, staring around the table. There was only one person here with the skill to take that ring out of his pocket without him noticing...
"Hana..." he said slowly.
"Yes, Brother?" she asked, grinning up at him angelically.
"Where's the ring that was in my pocket?"
"Shhh," she said, putting one chubby finger up to her lips. "It's a secret."
To be continued...
