Thanks to Boris Yeltsin, Sharper the Writer, campy, Quathis, CajunBear73, Sentinel103, Jimmy1201, and Mahler Avatar for reviewing and to everyone for reading. As ever, if you leave a review, I will send you a personal response. I once tried sending nacos, but that got messy …
Special thanks to campy for proofreading this chapter
KP, RS et. al. © Disney
COMING NEXT FRIDAY: The Gifts of the Mad Dogs, a seasonal entertainment.
I.
"Look, Son, you have some mail," Mr. Stoppable said as he walked into the kitchen carrying an overflowing postal service tray. There he discovered Ron was teaching Hana to use peanut butter to balance a spoon on her nose. Normally, the Stoppable pater familias would have chided his son for teaching his little sister such tricks but he knew Ron had lately been in a bit of a funk over the college admissions situation and the bonding time with his younger sibling was clearly making his eldest child happy. That it was keeping the toddler from literally bouncing off the walls was a benefit not to be discounted, either.
"Great," Ron sighed, not wanting to look at what he was sure would be the latest batch of disappointment.
"I'm sure you'll get in somewhere soon, Ron."
He turned to see that Kim had followed his dad into the house.
"Oh, hi, KP," he said listlessly as he took the tray from his father. He then proceeded to set down and ignore the mail.
"You're not going to open your letters?" Kim asked, not hiding her surprise, recalling how she tore hers open as quickly as she could.
"Why bother," he said, a picture of defeat. "More letters telling me, 'Sorry, no way, no how, no you' or 'Too bad, too sad, too late, try again next year'. Let's face it: Ron Stoppable's got an express ticket on the failure express."
"Love you, brudder," Han said as she took the peanut butter covered spoon and placed it on her nose.
"Hey! Han, that's badical!" he exclaimed.
"See, Ron? You're a great big brother. And a spankin' BF," Kim said as she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"And, you're a super son, too," Mr. Stoppable added as he placed a reassuring hand on his boy's shoulder. "Whatever happens, we're all proud of you."
Ron considered all of the affection and support surrounding him and grinned. "Okay, time for the Ronman to step up and see what we've got here." He picked up the overflowing tray and spilled its contents onto the table.
"That's the spirit," Kim said encouragingly with a pump of the fist.
"You want to open some, KP?"
"You sure?"
"Well, there is a lot of mail here," Ron said as he considered the pile in front of him. Steve Barkin had finally submitted Ron's transcript and recommendation and in recent days replies had been coming in with increasing volume, not a surprise given the number of schools to which Ron had ultimately applied.
As Kim waded through the letters, reading rejections along with requests to reapply the next year due to missed deadlines, she understood why Ron was feeling down. This was so unlike her own experience, when all she had received were acceptances, usually accompanied by promises of scholarships and fellowships. She looked up from one of the letters to her BF, whose shoulders sagged as he read yet more bad news. Quickly she got up, went around the table, and standing behind him, draped her arms over his shoulders, and clasped her hands so she was embracing him, before she kissed him on the head.
"What gives? Not that I'm not all about the KP kisses."
"You're buggin'."
"Am not!" he said defensively.
Kim snorted. "I so know what you're thinking," she asserted before giving him another peck on the head. "It's going to be all right. We're going to be all right."
"Man, you say that now but …"
"No buts, Ron. I don't care how many guys with great hair or huge IQs I meet at Llenrock. I've got the perfect guy for me, right here."
"You sure?"
"So sure."
"Thanks," Ron said as he reached up and took Kim's hands in his.
"How about we open a few more and then I'll treat you to Bueno Nacho?"
"I'm always about the Bueno, KP," he said as he reached for an envelope.
"Understatement much?" she said affectionately as she, too, took a piece of the mail.
A few minutes later, Ron's eyes opened wide. "Booyah!" he cried out as he thrust his fists into the air. "I got into MIST!"
"Ron, that's amazing! I know how much Dad wanted me to go to his school, but he'll be so ferociously excited you were accepted."
Ron rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah. About that. It's the other MIST."
"Mongolian Institute of Shepherding and Tenting?"
"Yeah, but we could still go together, see another part of the world, live in yurts …" he suggested, not sounding wholly convinced himself.
"Sorry, Ron. My future most def includes you. Yurts? Not so much."
"Booyah denied."
Kim looked at Ron with determination. "Don't give up so quickly. You got into one school, and I bet you'll get into some others. Let's see what's in this envelope," she said as she pulled one out of the pile and then fell quiet.
"KP?"
She held up an envelope from Llenrock.
"Given I've struck out on seven of eight Leafy League schools we may as well go for the complete set. Hit me with the bad news, Kimbo."
Kim felt her heart ache as she opened the envelope. She would have loved nothing more than for her BF to go to school with her in the fall but common sense told her Ron's grades would not have been adequate for him to get into Llenrock, though she wished more schools were giving him credit for saving the world with her and the many other things he had done over the years.
Ron watched as Kim read the letter. "Let me guess: I'm batting a thousand?"
She sighed. "I'm sorry."
"Brainage or datage? You can be honest."
"For what it's worth, datage. Which means you at least have a chance for the following year."
"Ulan Bator, here I come. Yay-hay yurts …"
Kim and Ron looked uncomfortably at one another, contemplating at least nine months apart, potentially on opposite sides of the world – which is when little Hana Stoppable once again proved she was indeed a super world-saving ninja toddler. Ron's sister had gone into the other room to the watch the newest Flippies DVD, Extreme Flippin', with Rufus, but when she heard Kim squeal with joy she had returned to the kitchen. Then seeing the look of shared happiness on the two teens' faces turn to concern and sadness, something stirred within her and a powerful instinct guided her to the pile of mail. She reached to the bottom of the heap and pulled out an envelope, which she handed to her brother. He smiled at her and gave it back to his little sister, who seemed very excited. "Why don't you open it, kiddo?"
Hana did as invited, pulled the letter out, and handed it to Ron. He began to read – and then he began to smile. Kim wondered if he'd just won a lifetime supply of Nacos.
"Well?" she asked.
"Middleton Community College wants me! It may not be Leafy League …" Ron said with a grin.
"But it's so not Mongolia and if you crush your classes …"
"Maybe Ron Stepuppable can transfer to Llenrock?"
"Well, if we can happen, anything can!" Kim said with one of the biggest smiles Ron had ever seen on his GF. "Nicely done, Potential Boy."
II.
"Yo, Princess."
Kim, who was folding mango-colored tee shirts, turned around to see none other than her long-time nemesis standing behind her, looking impatient.
"Shego? What are you doing here?"
"Looking for some customer service. Chop chop!"
Kim looked at her with suspicion. "Riiight."
"You this charming with all the shoppers?" she shot back.
Kim arched an eyebrow. "Most of our customers aren't wanted in eleven countries."
Shego flashed a contemptuous grin. "Don't know what you're talking about, Cupcake. You know that the UN gave Dr. D and me pardons after we kicked the Lorwardians' cans."
Kim clearly wasn't impressed. "While I'll give Drakken his props for his fighting flora, it was Ron who kicked alien biscuit."
"Whatever," Shego said with a hint of pique, clearly not wanting to remember how she'd been so easily knocked out by Warhok. "Then let's try this, Pumpkin: when you've got one of these, you don't need to boost stuff," she snapped, waving an International Express Titanium card. "Now show me what you've got in jeans, Miss Minimum Wage, before I complain to your boss and have your biscuit kicked to the unemployment line."
Kim clenched her fists, eliciting a satisfied smirk from Shego, but soon calmed herself, deciding that as long as the glamorous henchwoman wasn't stealing merchandise, she was entitled to the same level of service as any other shopper. Besides, Kim thought, if she could help Bonnie, she was sure she could do the same for Shego. "Fine. How about these?" she suggested, holding up a pair of onyx jeans.
Shego considered the option. "Maybe. What else do you have?" she replied as she took the pants and carelessly dropped them on the floor.
"These just came in," Kim offered, as she took a pair of jeans from another table. Moments later, Shego had tossed the proffered merchandise in a ball next to the other pair. It wasn't long before the store was littered with discarded pants, jeans and shorts.
"How about some tops?" Shego asked, pleased when she thought she saw Kim twitch. After a while, a number of blouses, crop tops and tees were strewn about the shop. "Well, looks like we're even, Kimmie."
"What are you talking about?" she asked as she surveyed the mess.
"This is payback."
"Excuse me?"
"For leaving Drakken and me to clean up after Warhok and Warmonga trashed downtown."
"You so can't be serious. You know I had to graduate! And it so wasn't like Ron and I actually expected you to deal with the debris."
"Yeah sure. You know, you can be a bit full of yourself, Princess," Shego gibed. "Maybe Drakken and I had stuff to do, too."
"Like pay a visit to Cellblock D," Kim snapped.
"Is everything okay out here?"
Kim turned to see the store manager. "This is so not good," she thought.
"You think you can help me? I've got this credit card and it's waiting to be charged," Shego said to the older woman, waving her uber high-limit plate. "Kimmie here may be the girl who can do anything but you might want to enroll her in retail summer school. I mean, this place is a mess and she can be kind of snippy."
The manager surveyed the damage. "Kim, I'll take things from here. We'll meet in my office after I help this customer."
III.
"Okay, Ron Stoppable may not always be the most observant of boyfriends, but even I can tell when my lady is torqued," he said as he dropped into the seat across from Kim in the mall's food court.
"I am so NOT torqued," she growled.
"Uh, okay, royally tweaked?" Ron countered.
"Not helping." Kim glowered, looked at Ron, who, she reminded herself, had nothing to do with her current work sitch, and sighed. "Sorry for harshing on you. This afternoon has been such the disaster," she explained before describing Shego's visit to the store and the subsequent highly unpleasant meeting with the manager, who made it very clear that in the future Kim was to ensure her save-the-world activities did not affect her work inside the store if she wanted to remain a Club Banana employee.
"Man, that tanks," Ron said sympathetically. "Fortunately, the Ronman may have a way to cheer up his badical girlfriend."
"Oh?" she asked.
"How about two tickets to a black tie dinner at the Hotel Capri?"
Kim slumped down in her chair. "Ron, I think it's spankin' that your father is an actuarial superstar, but …"
Ron interrupted. "Kim, Kim, Kim. While I will accept the compliment on behalf of my Dad, this will be a no-calculator, numbers-free night."
"Okay," she said, her curiosity aroused. "Sitch me."
"We're going to a Smarty Mart corporate event!"
Kim quirked an eyebrow. "This is supposed to be exciting how?" she asked imagining a night of big box store-themed awards and speeches. She and Ron had only a few weeks left before she headed for Upstate New York and she was guarding their time together ever more jealously.
"First, while your man is not going to a Leafy League school this fall …"
"But if he lays off the video games and …"
"Digs into the Victorian chick lit maybe he'll be joining his GF at one next year. Don't worry, KP. Your man is keeping his eye on the prize. That said, it's a mondo big deal that I was asked to come to this do. Martin Smarty and a whole bunch of other bigwigs will be there, KP. This is big-box big time!"
Kim couldn't help but smile at her beau's enthusiasm and the recognition he was earning. "Okay, I guess that is excitement worthy."
Ron began waving his hands. "You didn't let me finish, KP."
"My bad," she said indulgently. "I didn't realize there was more."
"You holding onto your seat?"
Kim nodded.
"You sure you can handle what I'm about to tell you?"
Kim nodded again.
"You have to keep it secret. You can do that, right?"
"Ron …"
He looked around, leaned over and whispered into her ear.
"No way!" she said.
"Kimila, would I kid you about something like this?"
"No, you wouldn't," she admitted. Then she got up, pulled her chair next to Ron's and threw her arms around him. "You, Mr. Stoppable, are one amazing BF."
"Hey, I am what I is," he said, unable to hide his sense of satisfaction. Kim may have been having a challenging afternoon but Ron knew he would be justified in expecting her to be incredibly excited about attending the announcement of a new partnership between Smarty Mart and the maker of Cuddle Buddies, an evening that would include the rollout of a new, limited-edition plush collectible and the showing of the fabled Beagleroo, which was even rarer than the legendary Flamingoat.
IV.
Betty Director sighed as she contemplated the upcoming budget cycle. She knew that in the wake of the previous spring's alien invasion, every agency, every department, every government-sponsored organization had to show what contribution it could make to planetary defense lest its funding be cut or reallocated. At the moment, she wasn't feeling confident. She needed something to bring to the table.
"Doctor Director?"
She looked up from her data pad to see one of her senior researchers standing in the doorway to her office. "Yes, Professor?"
"Please watch this," he said as he put a mePad Pro on her desk. "It's from the alien attack on Middleton earlier this year."
Betty watched with interest. "You're sure this is authentic?"
"One hundred percent," the man answered. "It seems the Ron Factor may not have been a Non Factor after all."
To Be Continued …