Author's/Notes:
A couple of confessions at this point: the story has not quite unfolded in the way I had originally envisioned it. The characters and the readers start bringing in their own influences and situations take on a life and complexity quite different than the simple idea I had at the beginning—like the old saying in warfare: every battle plan goes up in smoke the moment the first shot is fired.
One of the interesting developments has been The Ron Effect on the ladies in this story. This wasn't originally envisioned as a "Harem Story" (still not admitting that it's become one by the definitions of what I think constitutes the other Harems in Fan Fiction). For some time I've had a mystical monkey re-set button prepared to prevent the kind of implosion that so often plagues the Harem formula. I had figured on pressing that button well before now. But, as I've said, things evolve and change…
The interesting thing to come out of this is how the tension is ratcheting up.
Oh, not the tension between the ladies—although there will be more of that to come, I'm sure. Or the tension of who will Ron tumble into bed with—or in what order. Never mind that Ron is still mourning his poor dead wife and daughter—and now his parents, as well.
No, the tension I find most intriguing is how many readers are fretting that the "Harem aspect" is reaching levels of unsustainability while there have yet to be any graphic sexual encounters between the principals. (Maybe I should change the rating from an "M" back to "T".)
Obviously, under normal conditions it would be ludicrous for one man to capture the attention of so many women. Unless he were Brad Pitt. Or George Clooney. Or—well, you get the idea. And neither of those guys have single-handedly stopped an alien invasion or thrown ten-foot aliens across the city, while subconsciously revving up all female hormones with a ten mile radius with mystical monkey mojo.
But the problem that I think is emerging is not so much that the whole Roncentric aspect of the story is silly (which, let's face it, our stories are based on a cartoon that gave us four seasons of a lot of silliness) but that many of you are saying that the story hasn't been silly to this point and you're saying "please, don't let it become silly! Don't screw it up now by over-reaching!"
It's a balancing act, to be sure. And remember those guys who used to spin plates on top of those long poles? You may think I'm already spinning too many plates at this point in the story but I think I can do a few more before the curtain comes down on Act I.
But I intend to hold the Ronster to the same high standards that makes a lot of you care whether or not I blow it at this point in the tale. Still…I think I'll keep the rating at "M"—just in case.
Required Disclaimer: Fan Fiction. Not for Profit of any kind. Author has no rights to the source material. Just havin' a little fun…
Chapter Thirty-Six: Party of the First Part
As Shego set the parking brake, Monique struggled to position the crutches so that she could slide from the seat in the rental van to the parking lot just outside the sliding door.
"I got that," Ron announced, jumping out of the front passenger seat and handing off the crutches to Cece. Scooping Middleton High's Number One fashionista into his arms, he carried her toward the back door of the warehouse.
"Ron! What are you doing? Put me down!"
"No can do, Mon," he answered shaking his head. "I'm a busy man. Got things to do. You move too slow."
"You silly boy," she said, playfully slapping at his chest. (Oh my, she thought, that chest has grown a bit more impressive of late!) You didn't have to give me a ride home from the hospital…"
"Eh," he shrugged, "it was on my way."
"…but since you did, you certainly don't need to stick around to walk me to my door. If you need to get somewhere, you can take off, now."
"I can?" Ron asked, all innocence.
"Well, yes," the girl in his arms answered, trying to keep the sudden disappointment out of her voice. "You can run along now. Go home or take care of business or whatever."
"Good," he said as they reached the back door, "because I really do need to go home. And take care of some business. And…well…whatever. Especially whatever." He knocked on the back door with his elbow.
The door was opened by Bonnie who hopped out to hold it open as they entered. Tara was waiting just inside with a wheelchair.
As Ron helped her down and into the chair, positioning the cast that encompassed her leg for maximum comfort, she hugged his neck and kissed him on the cheek—a gesture taken in by Bebe and Cece who turned to look at Dede with what could only be described as thoughtful expressions. "Thanks, Ron," Monique said, "I guess I'm in good hands, now."
"Okay, then," he grinned, I guess I'll be running along home, now." And just stood there.
"So. Um," Monique said after a few moments. "Am I missing something here?"
Bonnie and Tara burst out laughing. "Ron is home," Bonnie told her. "He purchased this place yesterday and moved all his stuff in last night."
Monique's mouth fell open. "You bought my warehouse?"
"Well…" Ron scuffed at the floor with the toe of his shoe. "…technically it's my warehouse. Now."
"Oh…I see…" Monique looked ready to do a little toe-scuffing herself—except one leg was encased in a cast and elevated and the other had a wheelchair footrest in the way. "How soon will you want me to move?"
"Well, that's not up to me," Ron said, moving behind her to take control of the wheelchair from Tara. "That will be up to the contractors."
"So, I've got a little while?" she asked as he began pushing her down the hallway.
"Oh sure. First I have to get a final design from the architects. Then the contractors will be brought in and we'll prioritize the different parts of the building. You'll stay down here until your new apartment is ready upstairs. I'm hoping that, by then, you'll be a little more mobile so being up on the second floor won't be such an inconvenience."
"Wait a minute—did you say 'apartment'?"
"Well, Jeez, Mon! You can't live in the restaurant and I'm planning on using the rest of the first floor for a mini-mall and office space. The living quarters will be finished, first. Then the first floor and the public areas. The other—well, the rest is on a need to know basis."
The black girl reached back over her shoulder and got a hold of Ron's collar. "Here's a need to know for ya!" She pulled his face down next to hers. "I need to know what you intend to do with me!"
"Well, I intend to make a few financial investments and it's come to my attention that Club Banana is hemorrhaging customers like somebody pulled the fire alarm. I was thinking of finding a fashion start-up that needs a little seed money to get started with the opportunity of turning a real profit down the road…"
She yanked a little harder so that their faces were just inches apart. Staring into his soft brown eyes—Milk Dud eyes, she thought—she whispered: "You'd do that for me?"
"No. I'd do that for me," he murmured back. "You're a good investment, Monique. You work hard, you know your stuff, and you have a real eye for fashion. I'm just beating the other investors who would have figured it out sooner or late—"
She kissed him.
This was no peck on the cheek.
It was a full-on, turn-up-the-steam, lip-lock that threatened to turn into a close-the-door and pull-the-shades affair until Monique lost her grip on Ron's collar. As he straightened up, Shego stepped in and murmured: "Too soon?"
"What?"
"I said, 'too soon?' I mean, that's what you said to me."
"That was different," Ron answered, still keeping his voice low.
"How was that kiss different? Other than the fact that she was sitting down?"
"She wasn't offering anything more than a gesture of thanks. She's not looking to start a relationship."
Shego looked at the expression on Monique's face. "You sure about that, Monkey Boy?"
"We'll talk about this later," he hissed.
"That's what you said the day before yesterday. I'm still waiting."
At that point the doors leading into the manufacturing area opened and a chorus of "Surprise!" rolled over them. Ron turned the wheelchair toward the Welcome Home party he had arranged through Tara and Bonnie last night.
RSVP
The cavernous space had been hurriedly decorated with balloons and streamers. Folding tables laden with goodies were spaced about and a local DJ was cranking tunes from the corner. Yet, despite the fifty or so friends and former classmates that milled about, chatting and noshing and dancing and even doing a little exploring, most of the common area remained empty due to the vast amounts of space provided by the building's overall dimensions.
Monique found herself at the center of a revolving throng of well-wishers.
Zita Flores approached with two pieces of cake and sat next to her former roommate. "So," she said, handing her a piece folded in a napkin, "I hear you're trading up."
"I can't believe it, girl! Baby boy has offered to set me up in my own little shop. He says he's going to open a restaurant and, right next door, a little mini-mall. He thinks it's the perfect location, so close to the Upperton University campus."
"What other businesses does he plan to lease to?" the Hispanic girl asked. "Because if he's looking to spread some investment capital around, I'd like to propose a computer and electronics store I've been thinking about."
"I don't know," Monique said, after a bite of gooey cake. "He said he's still in the process of creating rough sketches for the architects. Apparently he plans to live here as well as offer some apartment rentals. And, from a couple of things he said, I think he plans on running some sort of business operation, as well."
"You mean in addition to the restaurant?"
The black girl shrugged. "I really don't know. I've been kind of out of it these past few days. And is that Dr. Director over there? What happened to her? And is that Kim's mom? Oh my god! "Wha—?"
"Girl, I forgot: you have been out of the loop!" And Zita began to explain (as best she could) the sketchy circumstances as to how (and when) two women in their forties were suddenly of an age with that too-hot robotics scientist.
Neither one had seen Joss, yet.
RSVP
"What kind of tech?" Betty asked the blonde roboticist.
Vivian shrugged as she dipped another cup from the punchbowl. "We only talked briefly and in generalities so far. He's a busy man, right now. I know that he wants to make this building totally secure. If he leaves Hana here he needs to know that she's totally safe."
"So, you're going to design the security systems for this place?"
"It's more than that," she said as she gazed about over the rim of her cup for another blond head in the room. "He's offered me my own lab space here. I'll be taking a two-year sabbatical from the Space Center to work on my own projects and serve as Ron's Tech Person—or at least until such time as Dr. Load is able to make a full recovery."
"It sounds like he wants you for more than a building security system," the surprisingly young head of Global Justice observed, looking about the room, herself.
"Gosh, I sure hope so," Viv said with a giggle that was not entirely lost on the GJ agent. Then she said: "Look up."
Betty looked up and thought her new-found depth-perception was playing tricks on her. "There's something in the rafters…moving…"
"They're monkeys," Vivian qualified.
Betty smiled. "Ninja monkeys! Or monkey ninjas. I can never remember which."
"You know about them?"
Betty nodded. "It's in his files. A weird, British, martial artist named Lord Montgomery Fiske—or Monkey Fist—trained them as an elite, simian attack squad. Had them believing in some mystical mumbo jumbo that he was some kind of chosen one and inheritor of some kind of special monkey powers."
"So what are they doing here?"
Betty contemplated the furry forms hanging from the warehouse rafters. "It's a bit complicated. Apparently back when the Middleton Space Center was set to launch a monkey into space—"
"Frederick. Yeah, I remember," Vivian said.
"Well some sort of scroll was retranslated indicating that their leader or master or sensei was supposed to be Ron Stoppable instead of this Fiske character."
"Bet he didn't like that."
"Which one? And you're right: neither one did. Fiske, obviously. Stoppable was really monkey-phobic back then and their transfer of allegiance really freaked him out. They would follow him home…"
"I'm having a hard time imagining Ron Stoppable freaking out over friendly monkeys. This is a guy who stopped an alien invasion and walked into a deadly radiation field, expecting to die to save the rest of us!"
"You didn't really know him back then," Betty said. "He's grown up a lot these past two years. Anyway, in the face of overwhelming rejection, the monkey ninjas eventually went back to this Monkey Fist but returned again when the crazy loon got turned into stone."
Vivian gave her a look. "Turned into stone?"
Betty arched an eyebrow. "Harder to believe than two forty-somethings and a sisteen-year-old magically transformed to the mutual age of twenty-five?"
"I take your point. But back to mine…even monkey—er—ninjas aren't enough in the way of building security for him. He's made that quite clear. He wants defense and weapons systems. And he wants at least a little of it to be personal and/or portable as well."
"For…?" Betty prompted.
"I think he's planning something big. Something beyond some kind of fortress set-up. If I were a betting woman, I'd wager he plans on taking a hunting trip."
"He's going to look for the people behind the deaths of his parents and the Possibles," Betty said grimly.
"After the way he handled the Lowardians, I'm not sure he needs me to do that. But I'll help him in any way that I can."
"It will be different, this time," Betty said. "With the Lowardians, it wasn't quite so personal."
Both women shivered a little.
RSVP
"If Ron's going to open his own restaurant," Hope said, "maybe we should have Feudor give him a call."
"Maybe he'll want to hire a lounge act," Marcella mused. "A singer with an accompanist."
"Maybe he'll offer Mediterranean cuisine," Crystal enthused. "With belly dancers!"
"Do you give lessons?" asked Maggie, one of the old Mad Dog alternates.
Linda, the other alternate, leaned in. "I could so get into that!"
Crystal nodded and began handing out cards.
"What's this rumor I heard about Ron getting married?"
"Yeah, I heard she was a Japanese national who died in the earthquake."
"Wow! Stoppable married!"
"Yeah, who would've thought he'd be the first!"
"And now, he's not only rich, an international hero, and a hottie…he's also got…experience!"
"Lots of it!"
"Tons!"
"A lot more than those second-date romeos behind the bleachers!"
"And more, even, than those jocks in the back seats of their sports cars!"
There was a collective sigh.
"Come on, girls!" Hope scolded, "This is no way to talk about the guy who just lost his wife and his parents!"
There was a moment of chagrinned silence.
"Has anyone heard back from Officer Hobble?" Tara asked suddenly. "I mean, how weird is that? Jessie and Liz just up and disappearing in the middle of the semester!"
Everyone looked at each other.
"Bonnie…"
The former cheerleaders co-captain turned and found Amelia at her elbow.
"Got a minute?" the former Middleton beauty queen inclined her head toward a quieter part of the party area.
"Sure, A." She followed with a sense of foreboding.
RSVP
"Just look over my sketches and the pages I tore out of all those catalogs," Ron said into his cell phone. "Cross out what you don't like, circle what you do. I should be back in a couple of hours and we can talk about the layout of your, Hana's, and my rooms so that she and you both have the comfort, access, and security that you need. I'd like you to sit in on the next meeting with the architect so be thinking of any questions relating to your needs, Yoshi. Okay?"
He put his hand over his free ear to block the sounds of the music and the crowd below and pressed the phone more tightly to his other ear. "No. No need to thank me! Nothing is more important to me than my sister, Ms. Kyoko. Which means that your comfort, security, and happiness are also paramount. Anything I can do—dinner? Well. Yes. You're right, we both have to eat—sure—it would be more efficient, time-wise, to combine the two. Shall I pick something up—really? Well, I haven't had a home-cooked meal, Japanese or otherwise, since…" His voiced faded off and his face fell as he recalled his last, home-cooked meal in Japan.
The voice on the other end of the call jerked him back to the present. "What? Oh…uh…no…everything's fine. It's just...distracting here with all of the people and…stuff…listen. I've got some people standing here waiting to talk to me so I'll call you once I'm on my way back to the hotel…thanks…bye…"
Ron tucked his phone back into his pocket, leaned against the catwalk railing, and bowed his head. You could only put the process of grieving on hold for short periods of time, he reminded himself. Eventually it was going to demand your attention once more and carry you along until the process reached the next stage. You couldn't stop it, avoid it, rush it, or take any short cuts along the way. It was a process that would have its way until it was done.
And there was no telling when that would be.
After a long moment he opened his eyes and gazed down at the gathering of his friends and former classmates on the floor below the catwalk.
"Betty's not happy."
He looked up and over at Shego who was leaning on the railing, next to him.
He should have sensed, if not heard, her approach. The fact that he hadn't meant he was either very distracted or that the meld had created a blind spot that she could exploit.
"She doesn't like being a twenty-five year-old hottie?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"No. I don't like that she's a twenty-five year-old hottie. Or the Possible girls, either, for that matter," Shego added with a smirk. "There's only room for one twenty-five year-old hottie around here and that's me."
"What about Vivian?"
"Dammit!" the former villainess swore with a smile. She gave him a sideways look. "So, you're not completely oblivious."
He looked back down. "No. It's just not important to me right now."
"Right now," Shego echoed. "Too soon…"
Ron sighed. "Sheila…My parents have just died. I haven't had time to properly grieve. And they were murdered by a villain who is still out there. Who probably still wishes to do harm to my little sister, possibly my friends, and certainly myself. My wife is barely a month gone and she was carrying our daughter when the wave came and took her. Do you honestly think I'm even capable of falling in love right now? If ever?"
Shego looked down. "Yeah. Too soon. I get that. But the black girl—"
"Monique."
"Monique—she's special to you. You're gonna save her—"
"She took a bullet for me."
Shego shook her head. "I took a building for you. Stood there with you when I could have saved myself—"
"I told you to leave me."
"But I stayed. And I did it, knowing what I was doing. That girl down there was standing in the other room and happened to get in the way of a stray bullet that she didn't see coming. Not the same thing."
"I owe her something."
"Accident. And you paid her hospital bills. Threw her a surprise party. And are giving her free room and board. I'd say she owes you something—not that I want to go there…"
"Do you want me to throw you a surprise party?"
"Jeez, Stoppable: I'm not saying you owe me anything. Just pointing out that you care about that girl down there."
"She's a friend."
"I get that. I surely do. What I want to know is: am I a friend, too?"
"I offered to throw you a surprise party."
"What about the free room and board?"
"As long as you're my Security Chief you'll bunk with me."
"I thought Doctor Blondie was your security chief now. And define 'bunk with me'."
"I've asked Dr. Porter to help me with my security tech. I know that Dr. Director has tasked you with my security details for the moment. If you're interested in extending that assignment, you'd live here and we could discuss compensation."
"I though that's what I was doing when I said: 'define bunk with me'."
"You'll have your own quarters."
She cocked an eyebrow.
"That means your own bed," he qualified.
"Okay, Ron; it's been fun messin' with ya but, you wanna talk business? Let's talk business. Betty's in a quandary because she had big plans for you and you look like you're making your move to go independent. Kimmie—the original one—is still out of the picture, though who knows what Mommy's capable of? Betts knows that I won't be a company tool for her and the best she can expect from me is an independent contractor—heavy on the 'independent'.
"If you're asking me to jump ship be your tool, I need to know what kind of tool we're talking about, here. You used the title 'Security Chief' but, as I see it, you need protecting about as much as Superman needs a bulletproof vest."
Ron stared off into the crowd below. Someone was—he lost the thought. Returning to the conversation: "Okay. Let's say I don't need a babysitter. I still have a sister. And friends. Anyone who works here or stays here could become a target—"
Shego held up her hand. "Your sister already has a bodyguard."
"I haven't seen her files."
"Well, I have. She's good. A hell of a lot better, I'd say, than you can hire off the black market. As for the rest? Let's get one thing straight." She hesitated, trying to choose her words more carefully. "I'd take a bullet for you, Stoppable. I wouldn't take a spit-wad for anyone else."
Ron nodded. "Still the independent contractor."
"You know me. That's how I roll. You want me to run your security set-up? I'll do that. Once it's up and running? Maybe I'll stick around and see if hanging around you provides a little excitement. You need protection for your peeps? I can hook you up with the best. But if you want me in deep and committed, I need a better incentive than money."
Ron looked down over the crowd, again. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"Promise me you'll be totally honest?"
"Uh, yes…"
"Was The Bodyguard movie on cable last night?"
"Aaarrrgh! Stoppable!"
RSVP
The Uptopian wasn't ready to interact with Earthians who might know The Target personally so the insertion into the warehouse was done using light-bending emitters that rendered the alien invisible. As long as there was no bodily contact, the agent was able to move among the people inside without detection.
Numerous conversations referenced The Target—"Ron," the assassin decided. Every opportunity to learn more about this "Ron" and think like an Earthian—understand their culture, customs, and way of processing information, would contribute to the mission's likelihood of success.
The more conversations that the alien eavesdropped on, however, the more enigmatic their friend or acquaintance or former education-associate seemed to become. The Ron was unique, it seemed, but in no way regarded as a god or war-leader.
He evinced no special powers at this gathering nor did he seek to lead the festivities or invoke an agenda. If the Utopian didn't know better, it might be assumed that this Ron was pretty much like everyone else.
Except for this one moment when, looking up at The Target on the catwalk overhead, it appeared as if "Ron" was aware of her presence…
RSVP
"Does Ron Ron know that Bon Bon has been running around telling everyone on campus that he's your boyfriend?"
Bonnie gaped at Amelia. "What?"
The Upperton Junior glanced at the U.U. Freshman and went back to admiring her nails. "I was just curious as to whether your fake boyfriend was aware that you've been pretending that the two of you are in a relationship?"
Bonnie felt her heart sink. It was bad enough that the cheerleaders had called her out on it. Now that Ron was actually back in town, she knew that it would only be a matter of time before her social subterfuge was unmasked to the Sorority—unless she could get Mr. Stoppable to be her boyfriend for real, that is.
But she had never considered that Ron might learn of her lies, himself. Oh God! If Amelia told him that she was pimping out his reputation to help her own social standing, it would not only lower her in his eyes, it might even destroy any chance she might have to turn the daydream into a reality!
Somewhere, off in the distance, it sounded like someone was yelling: "Aaarrrgh! Stoppable!"
"Are you threatening me?" Bonnie growled, hoping she might be able to negotiate some kind of deal where she could pay Amelia off to buy her silence.
"Why yes," the older girl said, "I am. Now I am not so crass as to think that I need to use any tricks to make Ronnie mine: Red Otter and Pink Sloth, we are destined to be together. In fact, I'm confident enough to enjoy a little competition. But, just in case you get the urge to fight dirty, I won't hesitate to let the school paper in on your dirty little secret. As well as your sorority sisters. And Ronnie, himself.
"So, no more lies. No more tricks. We'll let Ron decide that I'm the best girlfriend for him. Okay?"
Bonnie could not believe her good luck. Amelia wasn't going to rat her out! At least, not yet! She still had time to make Stoppable her boyfriend for real!
But, somehow, she felt less confident, now.
She couldn't trick him.
Oh, not because Amelia had just threatened to expose her if she did anything like that.
And not because she was coming to realize that Ron would not be easily tricked.
But because she wanted the real deal.
Not a trick. Or a trap. Or a cleverly worked-out approximation of a true relationship.
She wanted it to be pure.
Unsullied.
Uncomplicated.
She wanted…her cell phone to stop vibrating away in her pocket as it had for the past two minutes!
She pulled it out. "What?" she snapped.
RSVP
"Okay," Shego was saying. "We've agreed that it's too soon for you to even consider dating or a serious relationship. We've agreed that friends are important. And you say that you consider me a 'friend.' Now, given that you are under a great deal of stress and that your well-being comes under the heading of my job description—are you familiar with the concept of FWB?"
"FWB?" Ron echoed questioningly. "I don't think that's one of Monique's acronyms."
"Better not be," Ron's Chief of Security growled. "It means 'Friends With Benefits'. And I—oh what is it now?" she groused as a piercing cry sliced through the noise below.
"Kidnapped?" Bonnie shrieked at her phone.
ABOUT THE TITLE: The chapter title, "Party of the First Part," is a legal term often used in a written contract to identify one of the people entering into the agreement. This chapter marks the beginning of a number of changes in relationships—professional and personal as they relate to Ron.
REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 36
CajunBear73 9/11/11 . chapter 36
We interrupt this impending catfight and multitude of women scorned event of massive proportions to freak out so many onsite...
Just hold on to what I told you back at the beginning…though there will be some darker days ahead before we're done. And scorned? I think only Shego's feeling a bit of rejection…for now (take that either way) and the freak-out seems mostly positive (ya pervs!). R~13
Grin-Grin 9/11/11 . chapter 36
I've been stalking this story from the beginning. . . And it's awesomeness distilled.
This is one of the few Ron-centric stories that is actually updated regularly. . . And we love you for it.
Quick question though. . . Adrena Lynn, where?
I have an idea, though; but I'm not going to post it here.
But I'd like to see her here, if she's not there already *nudge* *nudge* *wink* *wink*
Thanks for the complement and, as promised in the beginning, most, if not all, Kim Possible characters of any importance will either make an appearance or be referenced by the time we are done. As for Adrena Lynn? I know what you're thinking. All that I will say is that you will meet her soon enough… R~13
dude 9/12/11 . chapter 36
great story i think ron shouldnt be in a relationship i mean he had his heart broken by syntho kim and yori used that to her advantage but that ended in tragedy and with all the other horrible things that have happened it likely his heart would need a long time to heal
Yeah, I think we're simpatico here but I think we'll eventually see Ron re-enter the relationship pool at some point—if for no other reason he gets hogtied and thrown in. In the meantime, help me convince these other guys that Ron just isn't ready yet… R~13
Feudor 9/12/11 . chapter 36
Ah, old Feudor gets a mention again! Honoured!
I'm really liking this story, and looking forward to more. I would of course second those that do not want it to turn silly; though I'm not sure what "silly" would entail. Every female character jumping into bed with Ron simultaneously, and living happily ever after would be a bit of a let-down. On the other hand, I can't really decide which of the ladies it would be OK to disappoint.
I'm with you Feudor; I don't want to disappoint any of them, either. We'll just have to wait and see how this plays out. By the way, I'll have a link up shortly to sell "Team Shego" and "Team Kim" shirts. ;-) R~13
readerjunkie 9/13/11 . chapter 36
Nice job on the new chapter,can't wait for a new post
Hi readerjunkie, as I said above, all of your responses helped me hurry this one out but I can't promise when the next one will appear. R~13
DarianMograin 9/13/11 . chapter 36
A nice, lighthearted, transition chapter before the action peaks up again. We get to see some of Ron's plans for the future. It was sweet to see that he is always looking out for those he cares about. I'm not sure where you are going with the kidnapped sisters idea. I cannot see Bonnie really caring if her bitchy sisters are in danger. Also Junior is not the sharpest knife in the drawer and his plans haven't always gone through.
Keep up the great work.
Your observations on Ron's caring and sweetness underscores the path of "love" that Ron was told he would need to open himself to. I know some readers were hoping for something a little more…"sweaty" (ya pervs!) but we'll just have to wait and see. At least you won't have to wait past the next chapter for the answers to your questions about Bonnie and Junior. R~13
pbow 9/13/11 . chapter 36
You beat me to it. I thought I had an original idea about Ron backing Monique's career as a designer. Although my concept includes Bonnie and Kim. (My story is still being written; I like to get the whole thing down befor posting.)
I wonder if Mrs. Dr. P's rejuvination healed her injured hand since it helped with Dr Director's eye. That would be a nice little plot twist in itself.
If you're interested, I still vote for Kim and Ron ending up together. That's just the way I usually groove.
Keep up the great work, I eagerly await the next chappy.
Live Large,
pbow
The issue of the hand will eventually be raised but Anne's got bigger problems blocking her surgical fitness at the moment. And I'm always interested in who my readers see as the ship of choice for this story (unfortunately, I'm sure that—in the end—I won't please everybody).
If there's one thing I've learned (in my college lit courses and as a reader and a writer), there's hardly any new ideas out there that somebody hasn't taken a run at; the huge difference lies in how they're executed. Write away, my friend; I'm sure your tale will be very different. And excellent! R~13
Sentinel103 2/29/12 . chapter 36
Well that was a cliffie...I know about them, I've written one or two.
So we have lots of little deals going on, but I wanna get back to Moma Lipsky the batcrap crazy woman...we could have some real fun with her...
Looks like some things were settling down until Bonnie's remark, so who does she care about? Tara.
Larry (Sentinel 103)
Tara? Sorry, Larry: about as far from Tara as you can get x 2! And fear not: Mama Lipsky will eventually return. R~13
Uberscribbler 12/15/12 . chapter 36
I'm still decompressing from The Critical Revelations of the previous chapter, and so emotionally have more in common with a balloon whose gas has finally leaked out than a live wire. Thus the barrage of revelations in *this* chapter hit with rather more muted effect. None of it feels quite as Critical as last one, but close to it.
If Disney had ever tried to write to this level of complexity and realism, it might well have triggered the Arab Spring in Florida. Just sayin'.
So who was kidnapped now and how much larger will the body count grow, I wonder. That's not a pick and not a call for the violence to be toned down in light of yesterday's events; quite the reverse, as the author continues to treat it all appropriately. Just please don't keep us waiting too long here. Its proving an engaging ride.
Uberscribbler: Glad you've regained your equilibrium. Some answers are just ahead for you. R~13
The Question23 7/14/13 . chapter 36
No Drakken! No! You had a good thing going at GJ and now your gonna toss it all away!
Maybe if you smacked him on the nose with a rolled up newspaper...naw, Drewbie's not gonna break his pattern of ill-conceived ventures now. R~13
Some Dude 8/27/13 . chapter 36
I'm guessing she finally found out about her sisters... at least I hope that's the case.
Yep, just found out that both all the brains and all the looks got snatched away... (smirk) R~13
sakura89luis chapter 36 . 7/20/14
FWB...hell yeah!
OMG! R~13
Trey of the rebellion chapter 36 . 7/21/14
I really enjoy this story, it's very entertaining.
Thank you, Trey; glad it's not worn out its welcome, yet. R~13
Guest chapter 36 . 7/21/14
Loved the chapter can't wait for the next one
Well, since you're so enthusiastic (and I've gotten several reviews for this chapter) I'll get the next one up in just a few minutes! R~13
BartWLewis chapter 36 . 7/22/14
Shego just suggested being friends with benifits, and Bonnie's sisters were kidnapped. Nice and nice.
Careful, Bart: you should know by now that I'm entirely capable of making Bonnie's sisters turn out to be the benefits! LOL R~13
PyroNagus chapter 36 . 10/1/14
Yet you still don't answer my question. XD Not that I'm expecting you to. I just thinking you should give politics a try, better pay, huh? What do you say? ;)
Erm...which question?
Oh god please not her! Anyone but miss Hatchet. Be it Jacqueline the ripper(ette) to Fiona Kruger, they still cannot scale up to how horrible she can be. Please delete this story and burn your computer... Unless if you want a real life recap of the movie 'Fear'.
Fear not...for now...
Also I refrain from revealing more clues to 'that one gal' preventing spoilers. You know just in case I'm right. Ahh Gawd, why the hell do you keep teasing me? Sitting there knowing every single plot twist. Ya, just keep askin me 'which one'. You'll see retribution one day. Mark my words lakish-san. Mark my words.
Ah well, the answers lie ahead...already reposted...keep reading. R~13