=All-Purpose Disclaimer=
Kim Possible has webbed toes and looks good in a two-piece. Her sidekick, Ron Stoppable, is often overlooked and (for some inexplicable reason) commits suicide in numerous fanfiction works. He should really see a counselor or something about that. I'd help him, but I didn't make any money writing this fic, so I can't really do anything except pat him on the back the requisite three times (twice is for a good job, and four times is just excessive).
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Kim Possible
The Power of Love
by Cyberwraith9
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Life is a funny creature.
There is absolutely no way to predict the shifts and twists of life's moods. One minute, she gives you everything you ever wanted, making poor men into affluent kings and ostracized women into powerful empresses. She distributes as she sees fit in a manner that those who cannot fathom her call 'luck'. And yet, in less time than it takes to blink, she takes it all away on another whim, leaving that person worse than before; broken, for they knew their dream and lost it.
Take one Brick Flagg for example; all through high school, he enjoyed popularity and success as the big fish in a small pond. Though hardly in comparison to the great, world-renowned Kim Possible in reputation, as the school's championship quarterback he was headed for great things. Colleges competed for him with scholarships of increasing value, vying for the next All-American football player who would bring their team glory and prestige.
And then one night after graduation, Brick had the unfortunate luck to run into an old friend, and older friend who had already graduated and was on scholarship to the very college Brick himself had selected. After a night of binge drinking and debauchery, the two were featured on the morning news, having strung themselves up by their own underwear on Middleton High School's flagpole. He subsequently lost his scholarship, lost the support of his family and friends, and lost all of that wonderful respect and popularity he had held. He's now flipping burgers at The Happy Clown on First and Main.
…and all because he went to the store for milk an hour later than his mother asked him to.
See? Life likes to be ironic like that; hitting a man when he's at his peak, when he has absolutely everything going for him. But of course, life, being the tricky creature she is, can switch tactics at any time, if it suits her fancy. Sometimes she enjoys taking a creature so low, so miserable, who thinks it cannot possibly get any worse, and hits it with both barrels right in the hindquarters.
Take one Ron Stoppable for example…
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"You're doing what?"
Ron stared in disbelief at his Uncle Donald ('Don' to his friends and family), the landlord of the apartment he was standing in at the moment. He was still dressed in his mission clothes, and smelled strongly of grouper after Wade managed to hail him a ride home from Hong Kong on a fish freighter. He was sore, he was miserable, he was so angry he was seeing red, and he had come home to find his uncle waiting patiently in his apartment (using his landlord's key to get in).
Don Stoppable, a short, portly man much like his brother with dusty blonde hair and a bushy mustache, shrugged helplessly at his nephew. "Sorry, my boy," he said, feeling truly bad…and keeping his distance from the fishy lad. "But it's standard of all new tenants. I haven't been able to catch up with you all week. Why haven't you checked your voice mail?"
"But Uncle Don," Ron pleaded loudly, so much so that he woke Rufus up from his nap. The watery rodent oozed out of the bowl he used to hold his shape whenever he slept, poking his whiskery head over the rim and blinking at the Stoppable men. "I don't have that kind of money to part with!"
"Oi, Ron!" his uncle grimaced, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "We've been over this. I can't give you special treatment because you're family. You have to put a security deposit down on the apartment, same as everyone else."
"You could have mentioned that when you invited me to live here." Ron grumbled irritably, walking over and slamming the fridge door open. He retrieved a bottle of water and closed the fridge with equal force, taking a long drag of water.
"I tried. Your parents were supposed to fill you in while you were off in Prague, or wherever."
"Yamanouchi…"
"Whatever. Ron," Don sighed sympathetically, but folded his arms with grim seriousness. "This is non-negotiable. You want to live here, you need to get me that deposit. Now, I've given you an extension already…"
"Okay, okay!" Ron snapped irritably, finishing off the bottle. He exhaled heavily, running a hand through his messy blonde locks as he collapsed into his overstuffed easy chair. "You'll have your check tomorrow."
Don afforded his nephew a single clap on the shoulder. He was truly apologetic, but money was money, even between family. "That's a good lad." he said cheerfully.
Ron bit back several choice words as his uncle let himself out, sinking further into his comfy chair as he let the empty bottle drop at his side. A soft scampering of feet gave Rufus' approach away, so he wasn't surprised when his buddy's tiny pink head poked over the edge of his seat, looking down at him curiously. "You okay?" the mole rat squeaked at him.
"I'm fine, buddy." he grumbled, burping as he rubbed his injuries. "Just means I have to dip into savings a little, that's all." Of course, his savings were beyond pitiful, and the monthly allowance his parents gave him were just enough for rent and food…he didn't have any to spare for this new expense.
'Have to talk to Uncle Don tomorrow…' he mumbled as he felt his eyelids growing heavy. 'Need a loan, or a job…some kind of help. Maybe KP can…'
And the last thought Ron managed before blissful sleep finally claimed him in that easy chair was the depressing notion that Kim wouldn't be around to help at all.
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As Shego approached the construction frame of the ill-named Drak Force Five with the stolen component in hand, she couldn't help but notice Drakken as he worked on his newest, greatest project. As hard as it was for her to admit, she had seen better angles of him before.
"Junior!" Drakken called from within the rocket, "Give me the electro-spanner!" His back half hung out of the access hatch he had stuffed himself into, reworking the components within to suit his evil purposes. After a moment of waiting, he called again, "Junior! JUNIOR!"
Señor Senior Junior sat with his back to the rocket and his feet dangling over the edge of the scaffolding. The fact that the only thing separating him from a three-hundred foot fall was a sectioned piece of metal grating didn't seem to bother the youthful villain; he held a gaming system in his hands, and was merrily bopping his skull to the beat of the headphones strapped to his ears.
Heaving a sigh, Shego approached the two, wondering how on Earth Drakken had ever thought it a good idea to implement this whole 'Legion' business. He still had the henchmen running about in those awful monogrammed uniforms, insisting that the good money spent on them not be wasted. Unfortunately, their tight-fisted accountant agreed, giving the brutish help little choice.
She cleared her throat noisily as she reached the rocket, surprising Drakken into a violent reaction that caused him to strike his head against something hard and metallic. The resonating bonk continued to hum even as he pulled his lumpy head from the hatch, rubbing the newest addition to his cranium painfully. "Shego!" he snarled, "What is…ooh!"
His anger was forgotten as he snatched the tiny box of circuitry from her hands, laughing gleefully like a schoolgirl. "I got your bomb-thingy, like you said." she waved at the device. With the fight behind her and no new prospects on the horizon, she was incredibly bored. Now was the part of the plan where Drakken put everything together.
"Excellent!" he held the box aloft, gazing at it like a proud father. "And now, with the Pulson Detonator, the finishing touches on Drak Force Five can be completed! Assuming…" he glared down at his incompetent assistant, "That I can get some DECENT HELP AROUND HERE!"
"Just a minute, Doctor Drakken," Junior said distractedly, not bothering to look up as he made his way through the final level of Spaztic the Ground Squirrel. "I am having trouble locating…whatever tool it is you asked me to get."
Drakken shoved the Pulson Detonator beneath one arm and used the other to rip the headphones off of Junior's empty head. The pretty boy protested loudly as his scientist supervisor threw his MP3 player, phones and all, down into the abyss looming beneath them. "We are at a critical stage of construction here," Drakken growled, pushing his face into Junior's. "So we cannot afford any screw-ups. Understand?"
"If you did not want screw-ups, why did you ask me to be your assistant?" Junior seemed truly confused, whereas any other of his associates would have said that out of sarcasm. "Father says-"
"We don't have time for this." Shego interrupted. Truthfully, she didn't know 'what' kind of schedule they were on: She just couldn't take any more idiocy. "What about those farm thingies? Aren't the Knights supposed to be taking care of that?"
"Yes…" Drakken mused, raising his other hand to his chin. He didn't even notice that it was the hand that supported his valued Pulson Detonator, but Shego was fast enough to catch it before it took a tumble. "It has been a while since we received an update from those three…" He turned to Junior, glaring at the useless layabout. "Think you can track them down?" he asked snidely.
"Fine!" Junior sighed, hauling himself to his feet with a disgruntled puff of breath. "I do not see why we are putting so much effort into all of this, anyway. The previous mission only served to prove that Kim Possible and her stylish-yet-incompetent sidekicks are no match for us."
"Yes, well…" Drakken huffed at Junior's receding back, shaking a fist at the lazy boy, "Do you think Kim Possible and her sidekicks are just sitting around, playing games? I don't think so!"
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Ron cursed, leaning up from the table with his pool cue in hand. "Unbelievable!" he hissed as the cue ball zipped right past his mark, pocketing itself neatly in the corner.
Monique leaned against her own cue, smiling obnoxiously at her opponent. "Scratch."
"I 'know'." he raspberried her, pulling a face as she pulled the cue and one of his striped balls from the pocket. He looked up to the ceiling of the student union's game room, holding his arms out in a gesture to the powers that be. "Oh pool gods, why hast thou forsaken your most faithful disciple?"
"You haven't been keeping up on your sacrifices." his beautiful opponent smirked, tugging at the spaghetti strap of her tank top. There, in the crowded, darkened hall that served as the students' getaway for relaxation and study, it was warm enough for her to wear something that flaunted her figure. In the rapidly-cooling September weather, a girl needed to take every opportunity to catch the eye of a gentleman or two…though the gentleman she was with at the moment had her worried for different reasons. "You should buy me a basket of buffalo wings in their honor."
"Aheh, aheh…" Ron laughed mockingly. He took a step back from the table, gesturing with a polite, mocking bow at the waist. His scornful smile soon fell as Monique proceeded to pop two of her own into separate pockets, setting up her next shot beautifully. "Aw, man…" he groaned, leaning his forehead against the end of his cue stick. "This really, really sucks…"
"What's the matter, Ronnie-boy? Can't handle being out-classed?" She bounced her next shot off of the soft green felt, failing to pocket any of her balls but giving Ron an exceptionally poor shot. When she didn't hear him retort, she looked over at him with more concern. "Ron?"
Ron pulled his face off of the cue, failing to notice the tiny dot of chalk on his forehead. Despite the humorous spot, Monique was far more interested in the morose expression he wore. "It's official; this week sucks royally."
"Why?" she asked. "Because you're losing a couple of bucks off of a game of pool?"
"Being 'hustled' is more like it." he grumbled, somehow managing to re-pocket the ball his last scratch had released. "I swear to god, this has been the worst week of my life ever."
"Would that be the pool god, or the regular variety?" Monique couldn't help but smirk. At his pained expression, she relented, taking her shot and then backing away from the table. "Okay, okay…so what's made it so awful?"
"Haven't you been listening?" Ron snapped as she circled the table, heading for her pink lemonade at the far end. "Class is a nightmare, my uncle is bleeding my dry, and Kim…" He choked at the last bit, looking away lest Mon see his eyes watering slightly.
Monique reached her drink, and then frowned; there were two glasses of pink liquid in front of her, both pink and both still. "Which one is mine?"
"Hmm? Oh," he looked over, waving her off as he turned back to the table. "I don't have a drink. One of those is just Rufus, taking a nap."
"Rufus?" She grimaced, squatting down so the glasses were at eye-level.
"Yeah," he said, eyeballing the cue ball experimentally as he imagined the shot in his head. "He goes all liquidy when he sleeps after those longevity treatments Wade gave him. Radiation, or something…Sometimes he would slip through cracks in the floor, or stuff like that."
"So he sleeps in a glass?" She reached hesitantly for one of the glasses, then pulled back, looking between the two.
"Glasses, bowls…whatever'll hold him."
She considered the problem for a moment more, then shook her head and stood up. "Not gonna risk it." she decided, retaking her cue stick.
"Hello?" Ron demanded, sending the white ball tumbling across the table in his frustration. "Are you listening to me?"
"Every word, cute stuff." she told him, taking his foul shot and turning it into another point for herself. "Let's see if I have everything straight: You're angry at Kim for being so busy putting her new life in order that she doesn't have time to have a taco with you."
"I…"
"A life," Monique continued, standing up and giving him a pointed look and accenting it by pointing her cue at him, "Might I remind you, that 'you' encouraged her to take. She's busy working hard trying to put a career together, to save the day, and you're being fussy because she doesn't have quite as much playtime anymore."
He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, trying to come up with a retort. Unfortunately, nothing was coming out of his flapping mouth.
Moving in for the kill, she looked back at the table, lining up a new shot. "And now, after you almost blew up Russia and destroyed several millions of dollars in foreign experimental weapons' research, she asks you to stay out of the way, and you get all huffy at her." Sinking the eight ball and finishing the game, she looked up at him with a straight face. "So did I get everything right?"
"Well, yeah…" he muttered, scratching his head. "But it sounds really stupid the way you put it."
"Uh-huh." Sauntering over, she held her hand out expectantly. After a minute, Ron sighed and pulled a few crumpled bills from his pocket, placing them in Monique's waiting palm. Giving him a grateful smile, she stowed her new money and offered Ron a comforting arm on his shoulder. "Look, Ron…You shouldn't take this thing personally. I mean, you never really liked the danger aspect of the saving-the-world thing, right?"
"I guess." he shrugged.
Squeezing him in an impromptu hug, she kissed him on the cheek. "So be happy for her, and be a little patient. I'm sure she'll come around after she settles down a little. Just be patient…"
"Okay, okay." he sighed, hugging her back. "I guess I am overacting just a little…" he admitted begrudgingly. "I'll…give her a call tomorrow, or something." The sting of being 'fired' from the old team hadn't faded at all, but Monique had several good points. Despite what he had said, it 'was' hard to overlook the fact that he had nearly irradiated a good chunk of the former Soviet Union, an act that wasn't earning him any sidekick points.
"That's better."
His half-smile disappeared as he caught sight of his watch. "Oh man, I'm late!" he cried, tossing the pool cue onto the table and grabbing his jacket.
As his smile shrunk, Monique's grew. "Does that mean you can't stay and be suckered out of a couple more bucks? I still have a couple books I need to pick up for class."
"Sorry, gorgeous, but I can't." he rushed over to the glasses, immediately selecting the correct one and pouring the gelatinous mole rat into his cargo pocket. "I gotta get to work. First day on the job, and all."
"Well." Monique put her hands on her hips, watching Ron collect himself in a hustle. "I never thought I'd see the day when Ronald Stoppable got himself work. Someone call the Vatican, 'cause the Apocalypse must be around the corner."
His answer came in the form of another nasty face. "Very funny. My uncle helped me get a job downtown at a Restaurant to help me work off my debt." He caught her in one last hug, pulling away with an apologetic look. "Sorry to cut and run." he said, hurrying off.
Now sure of which was hers, she picked up her lemonade and took a sip, smiling as he rushed towards the far exit. Just as he rushed out the right-side door, she saw a flash of orange-red enter through the door on the far left. "S'okay," she said to the far-departed Ron with a knowing smile on her face, raising her arm to flag down the owner of the red hair, "I think I just got my second customer for the evening."
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"-and he wouldn't even sit near me in lecture today." Kim complained, leaning against her pool cue.
"Mm-hmm." Monique hummed, planting the eight ball into the center pocket and winning the game. "So he hasn't talked to you since you guys got back from Hong Kong?"
"He wouldn't even ride in the same plane with me." Kim sighed dejectedly, pulling a few bills from her pocket and slapping them on the table. "I checked in with Wade…who isn't thrilled with me, either, but at least he's talking to me. He said Ron got home okay…only thing that kept me from going nuts with worry."
"Yeah," Monique picked up the bills, then set about putting the table back in order for another game. "I'm sure Ron's just overreacting, anyway."
Kim's face brightened as she watched Monique break in the new game. "Yeah!" she said with a nod, moving around the table and lining up her shot. "Ron's totally overreacting to all of this. I mean, he's the one that wanted me to take this stupid job with GJ anyway!"
"Mm-hmm."
"And he's been showing off on missions, too! Like he's all Jet Li, with a little Robin Williams thrown in for good measure." she added, neatly sinking a pair into the corner pocket. Grinning with triumph, she moved around, ready to put another of her striped set into the center pocket.
"Yeah, that's not Ron-like at all." Monique rolled her eyes.
"And those moves!" Kim added, sinking another shot. Apparently, fury helped her play pool. Monique was going to have to calm her down, or the game would be over before she even got another shot. "He goes off to Japan for the entire summer, to some 'summer session', or whatever," she put the words in quotes with her fingers, rolling her eyes. "And then he comes back and fights Shego to a standstill, and expects me to swallow some stupid story about him studying trig?"
"Totally bogus." Monique nodded, folding her arms.
"And how hypocritical can he be?" Kim stood up for a moment, too wrapped up in her tirade to play pool as she nodded from side to side, adopting a dopey voice. "'You aren't spending any time with me, Kay-Peeeeee.' I barely hear from him while he's over there, and he gets huffy when I'm away for a few days?"
"What a jerk." Her friend shook her head, walking over with her lemonade to stand behind Kim as the heroine lined up her shot. "It's not like you've been ignoring him, or anything."
The quip had the desired effect; Kim's cue went wild, scraping across the green felt and spinning her shot towards the wrong end of the table. "Um…yeah." Kim said, this time a little less certain.
"And I'm sure you've been spending as much time with Ron as you can," Monique continued, glad for the chance to finally get into the game. She sunk one of her own balls, moving around the table to set up a new shot as she gave Kim a pointed look. "After all, he's been helping you out a lot lately, what with moving you in to two different places and all…"
"Yeah…"
"But you know Ron, always overreacting." Monique shrugged, shouldering her pool cue as she took another drink of her lemonade. "Remember that time he thought the guys on the football team were spreading those ugly rumors about you, and he ended up confronting the whole team?"
Kim turned scarlet at the memory, recalling how Ron had dangled from the roof in nothing but his underwear for an entire hour because some of the team 'might' have been saying ugly things about her. In the end, it had turned out that Bonnie was the one starting the rumors, and even then it had been Ron who had quickly (and enthusiastically) put the kibosh on them. "Yeah…" she muttered.
The glass hid Monique's smile as she finished off the sweet pink liquid. "Well, I guess he's always been like that. Flying off the handle for no reason, wanting to spend time with his best friend…feeling left out and worried, seeing her rush off into the face of danger with someone he doesn't trust." She leaned over, sinking two more perfect shots.
With a sigh, Kim surrendered. Monique made several good, blatant points. Plus, she had been doing a lot of volunteer training with Will without second thought. It was just her nature; when she started something, she jumped in with both feet. If her destiny was to be a Global Justice agent, then she would be the best, end of story. However, all that training had cut severely into her 'Ron-time'.
…and she missed her best friend.
"Okay, okay…" she sighed, leaning against the table as she watched Monique make the rest of her shots flawlessly, ending the second game with the same outcome as the first. Monique's hand flapped expectantly, eliciting another sigh and a few more dollar bills from her. "I did sort of…'forget' a few things with Ron this last week. And I haven't exactly been there for him lately, but…Well, I've been busy."
"Don't see why you need to be making excuses to me." Monique said lightly, looking as innocent as a newborn babe. "I was agreeing with you, remember?"
"No, you weren't." Kim said in an accusing tone. "You were doing that thing where you get me to realize what a jerk I've been, and how I need to spend more time with my best friend who's helped me out a lot this week." Then she blinked, surprised at the force of the words that had just come out of her mouth.
Monique let her stew for a few moments more, savoring the sight of the fabulous Kim Possible at a loss for words. Then she took the cue stick from her with a gentle hand, giving her an encouraging smile. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe…and this is just a theory, but maybe…you kind of take Ron for granted?"
"What?" In spite of her previous words, Kim scoffed at this, placing her hands dangerously on her hips. "I do 'not' take Ron for granted!"
"Okay." Monique held her hands up, warding Kim's anger off playfully. "All I'm saying is, if a guy did all the stuff Ron did for me, without asking a single thing in return except wanting to spend time with me…Well," she shrugged noncommittally, "I might even think he dug me, or something."
This time, Kim's laugh wasn't sarcastic, but actually amused. "What? You honestly think Ron 'digs me'?" With a snort, she turned around, trying to wrap her head around the concept. "That's ridiculous! Ron just did the things he did because…" She stopped, turning around. The twitch at Mon's lips was hard to miss. "He did them because he's Ron." she sighed at last.
"Mm-hmm." Monique nodded with a smug look of satisfaction.
Kim was out-maneuvered, and she knew it. Still, it didn't mean that she couldn't put up a huffy, irritated front, just for tradition's sake. "Okay. Okay!" she threw her hands up. "I've been a little distant…and I was a little hard on him back at Hong Kong."
The smugness hadn't vanished yet from Monique's features. "Mm-hmm." she hummed again.
Her ire was shot down, visible as her shoulders sunk slowly. The woolen sweater hanging from her wiry frame deflated like a balloon. "I should call him, shouldn't I?"
"Might be a good idea." Monique shrugged again, setting the pool cues down onto the table for the next set of players. "Might even be the smartest thing you've said all evening."
"Point taken." The smile returned to Kim's features as she caught Mon in a friendly hug. "I'm gonna go home to call him right now."
Mon watched her take a couple steps, hiding her secret disappointment; It pained her a little to know that she wouldn't get ahold of Ron for a while, what with him working, but she took heart in knowing that things were going to get better. Suddenly feeling very satisfied with herself she weaved her way through the pool tables and ping-pong setups, making for the juice bar set up in the darkened corner of the large room.
"Another lemonade, please," she smiled at the bartender there, who was happy to fill her order after she slapped a few of Kim and Ron's hard-earned dollars onto the counter. "I think I've earned it."
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Kim Possible has webbed toes and looks good in a two-piece. Her sidekick, Ron Stoppable, is often overlooked and (for some inexplicable reason) commits suicide in numerous fanfiction works. He should really see a counselor or something about that. I'd help him, but I didn't make any money writing this fic, so I can't really do anything except pat him on the back the requisite three times (twice is for a good job, and four times is just excessive).
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Kim Possible
The Power of Love
by Cyberwraith9
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Life is a funny creature.
There is absolutely no way to predict the shifts and twists of life's moods. One minute, she gives you everything you ever wanted, making poor men into affluent kings and ostracized women into powerful empresses. She distributes as she sees fit in a manner that those who cannot fathom her call 'luck'. And yet, in less time than it takes to blink, she takes it all away on another whim, leaving that person worse than before; broken, for they knew their dream and lost it.
Take one Brick Flagg for example; all through high school, he enjoyed popularity and success as the big fish in a small pond. Though hardly in comparison to the great, world-renowned Kim Possible in reputation, as the school's championship quarterback he was headed for great things. Colleges competed for him with scholarships of increasing value, vying for the next All-American football player who would bring their team glory and prestige.
And then one night after graduation, Brick had the unfortunate luck to run into an old friend, and older friend who had already graduated and was on scholarship to the very college Brick himself had selected. After a night of binge drinking and debauchery, the two were featured on the morning news, having strung themselves up by their own underwear on Middleton High School's flagpole. He subsequently lost his scholarship, lost the support of his family and friends, and lost all of that wonderful respect and popularity he had held. He's now flipping burgers at The Happy Clown on First and Main.
…and all because he went to the store for milk an hour later than his mother asked him to.
See? Life likes to be ironic like that; hitting a man when he's at his peak, when he has absolutely everything going for him. But of course, life, being the tricky creature she is, can switch tactics at any time, if it suits her fancy. Sometimes she enjoys taking a creature so low, so miserable, who thinks it cannot possibly get any worse, and hits it with both barrels right in the hindquarters.
Take one Ron Stoppable for example…
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"You're doing what?"
Ron stared in disbelief at his Uncle Donald ('Don' to his friends and family), the landlord of the apartment he was standing in at the moment. He was still dressed in his mission clothes, and smelled strongly of grouper after Wade managed to hail him a ride home from Hong Kong on a fish freighter. He was sore, he was miserable, he was so angry he was seeing red, and he had come home to find his uncle waiting patiently in his apartment (using his landlord's key to get in).
Don Stoppable, a short, portly man much like his brother with dusty blonde hair and a bushy mustache, shrugged helplessly at his nephew. "Sorry, my boy," he said, feeling truly bad…and keeping his distance from the fishy lad. "But it's standard of all new tenants. I haven't been able to catch up with you all week. Why haven't you checked your voice mail?"
"But Uncle Don," Ron pleaded loudly, so much so that he woke Rufus up from his nap. The watery rodent oozed out of the bowl he used to hold his shape whenever he slept, poking his whiskery head over the rim and blinking at the Stoppable men. "I don't have that kind of money to part with!"
"Oi, Ron!" his uncle grimaced, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "We've been over this. I can't give you special treatment because you're family. You have to put a security deposit down on the apartment, same as everyone else."
"You could have mentioned that when you invited me to live here." Ron grumbled irritably, walking over and slamming the fridge door open. He retrieved a bottle of water and closed the fridge with equal force, taking a long drag of water.
"I tried. Your parents were supposed to fill you in while you were off in Prague, or wherever."
"Yamanouchi…"
"Whatever. Ron," Don sighed sympathetically, but folded his arms with grim seriousness. "This is non-negotiable. You want to live here, you need to get me that deposit. Now, I've given you an extension already…"
"Okay, okay!" Ron snapped irritably, finishing off the bottle. He exhaled heavily, running a hand through his messy blonde locks as he collapsed into his overstuffed easy chair. "You'll have your check tomorrow."
Don afforded his nephew a single clap on the shoulder. He was truly apologetic, but money was money, even between family. "That's a good lad." he said cheerfully.
Ron bit back several choice words as his uncle let himself out, sinking further into his comfy chair as he let the empty bottle drop at his side. A soft scampering of feet gave Rufus' approach away, so he wasn't surprised when his buddy's tiny pink head poked over the edge of his seat, looking down at him curiously. "You okay?" the mole rat squeaked at him.
"I'm fine, buddy." he grumbled, burping as he rubbed his injuries. "Just means I have to dip into savings a little, that's all." Of course, his savings were beyond pitiful, and the monthly allowance his parents gave him were just enough for rent and food…he didn't have any to spare for this new expense.
'Have to talk to Uncle Don tomorrow…' he mumbled as he felt his eyelids growing heavy. 'Need a loan, or a job…some kind of help. Maybe KP can…'
And the last thought Ron managed before blissful sleep finally claimed him in that easy chair was the depressing notion that Kim wouldn't be around to help at all.
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As Shego approached the construction frame of the ill-named Drak Force Five with the stolen component in hand, she couldn't help but notice Drakken as he worked on his newest, greatest project. As hard as it was for her to admit, she had seen better angles of him before.
"Junior!" Drakken called from within the rocket, "Give me the electro-spanner!" His back half hung out of the access hatch he had stuffed himself into, reworking the components within to suit his evil purposes. After a moment of waiting, he called again, "Junior! JUNIOR!"
Señor Senior Junior sat with his back to the rocket and his feet dangling over the edge of the scaffolding. The fact that the only thing separating him from a three-hundred foot fall was a sectioned piece of metal grating didn't seem to bother the youthful villain; he held a gaming system in his hands, and was merrily bopping his skull to the beat of the headphones strapped to his ears.
Heaving a sigh, Shego approached the two, wondering how on Earth Drakken had ever thought it a good idea to implement this whole 'Legion' business. He still had the henchmen running about in those awful monogrammed uniforms, insisting that the good money spent on them not be wasted. Unfortunately, their tight-fisted accountant agreed, giving the brutish help little choice.
She cleared her throat noisily as she reached the rocket, surprising Drakken into a violent reaction that caused him to strike his head against something hard and metallic. The resonating bonk continued to hum even as he pulled his lumpy head from the hatch, rubbing the newest addition to his cranium painfully. "Shego!" he snarled, "What is…ooh!"
His anger was forgotten as he snatched the tiny box of circuitry from her hands, laughing gleefully like a schoolgirl. "I got your bomb-thingy, like you said." she waved at the device. With the fight behind her and no new prospects on the horizon, she was incredibly bored. Now was the part of the plan where Drakken put everything together.
"Excellent!" he held the box aloft, gazing at it like a proud father. "And now, with the Pulson Detonator, the finishing touches on Drak Force Five can be completed! Assuming…" he glared down at his incompetent assistant, "That I can get some DECENT HELP AROUND HERE!"
"Just a minute, Doctor Drakken," Junior said distractedly, not bothering to look up as he made his way through the final level of Spaztic the Ground Squirrel. "I am having trouble locating…whatever tool it is you asked me to get."
Drakken shoved the Pulson Detonator beneath one arm and used the other to rip the headphones off of Junior's empty head. The pretty boy protested loudly as his scientist supervisor threw his MP3 player, phones and all, down into the abyss looming beneath them. "We are at a critical stage of construction here," Drakken growled, pushing his face into Junior's. "So we cannot afford any screw-ups. Understand?"
"If you did not want screw-ups, why did you ask me to be your assistant?" Junior seemed truly confused, whereas any other of his associates would have said that out of sarcasm. "Father says-"
"We don't have time for this." Shego interrupted. Truthfully, she didn't know 'what' kind of schedule they were on: She just couldn't take any more idiocy. "What about those farm thingies? Aren't the Knights supposed to be taking care of that?"
"Yes…" Drakken mused, raising his other hand to his chin. He didn't even notice that it was the hand that supported his valued Pulson Detonator, but Shego was fast enough to catch it before it took a tumble. "It has been a while since we received an update from those three…" He turned to Junior, glaring at the useless layabout. "Think you can track them down?" he asked snidely.
"Fine!" Junior sighed, hauling himself to his feet with a disgruntled puff of breath. "I do not see why we are putting so much effort into all of this, anyway. The previous mission only served to prove that Kim Possible and her stylish-yet-incompetent sidekicks are no match for us."
"Yes, well…" Drakken huffed at Junior's receding back, shaking a fist at the lazy boy, "Do you think Kim Possible and her sidekicks are just sitting around, playing games? I don't think so!"
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Ron cursed, leaning up from the table with his pool cue in hand. "Unbelievable!" he hissed as the cue ball zipped right past his mark, pocketing itself neatly in the corner.
Monique leaned against her own cue, smiling obnoxiously at her opponent. "Scratch."
"I 'know'." he raspberried her, pulling a face as she pulled the cue and one of his striped balls from the pocket. He looked up to the ceiling of the student union's game room, holding his arms out in a gesture to the powers that be. "Oh pool gods, why hast thou forsaken your most faithful disciple?"
"You haven't been keeping up on your sacrifices." his beautiful opponent smirked, tugging at the spaghetti strap of her tank top. There, in the crowded, darkened hall that served as the students' getaway for relaxation and study, it was warm enough for her to wear something that flaunted her figure. In the rapidly-cooling September weather, a girl needed to take every opportunity to catch the eye of a gentleman or two…though the gentleman she was with at the moment had her worried for different reasons. "You should buy me a basket of buffalo wings in their honor."
"Aheh, aheh…" Ron laughed mockingly. He took a step back from the table, gesturing with a polite, mocking bow at the waist. His scornful smile soon fell as Monique proceeded to pop two of her own into separate pockets, setting up her next shot beautifully. "Aw, man…" he groaned, leaning his forehead against the end of his cue stick. "This really, really sucks…"
"What's the matter, Ronnie-boy? Can't handle being out-classed?" She bounced her next shot off of the soft green felt, failing to pocket any of her balls but giving Ron an exceptionally poor shot. When she didn't hear him retort, she looked over at him with more concern. "Ron?"
Ron pulled his face off of the cue, failing to notice the tiny dot of chalk on his forehead. Despite the humorous spot, Monique was far more interested in the morose expression he wore. "It's official; this week sucks royally."
"Why?" she asked. "Because you're losing a couple of bucks off of a game of pool?"
"Being 'hustled' is more like it." he grumbled, somehow managing to re-pocket the ball his last scratch had released. "I swear to god, this has been the worst week of my life ever."
"Would that be the pool god, or the regular variety?" Monique couldn't help but smirk. At his pained expression, she relented, taking her shot and then backing away from the table. "Okay, okay…so what's made it so awful?"
"Haven't you been listening?" Ron snapped as she circled the table, heading for her pink lemonade at the far end. "Class is a nightmare, my uncle is bleeding my dry, and Kim…" He choked at the last bit, looking away lest Mon see his eyes watering slightly.
Monique reached her drink, and then frowned; there were two glasses of pink liquid in front of her, both pink and both still. "Which one is mine?"
"Hmm? Oh," he looked over, waving her off as he turned back to the table. "I don't have a drink. One of those is just Rufus, taking a nap."
"Rufus?" She grimaced, squatting down so the glasses were at eye-level.
"Yeah," he said, eyeballing the cue ball experimentally as he imagined the shot in his head. "He goes all liquidy when he sleeps after those longevity treatments Wade gave him. Radiation, or something…Sometimes he would slip through cracks in the floor, or stuff like that."
"So he sleeps in a glass?" She reached hesitantly for one of the glasses, then pulled back, looking between the two.
"Glasses, bowls…whatever'll hold him."
She considered the problem for a moment more, then shook her head and stood up. "Not gonna risk it." she decided, retaking her cue stick.
"Hello?" Ron demanded, sending the white ball tumbling across the table in his frustration. "Are you listening to me?"
"Every word, cute stuff." she told him, taking his foul shot and turning it into another point for herself. "Let's see if I have everything straight: You're angry at Kim for being so busy putting her new life in order that she doesn't have time to have a taco with you."
"I…"
"A life," Monique continued, standing up and giving him a pointed look and accenting it by pointing her cue at him, "Might I remind you, that 'you' encouraged her to take. She's busy working hard trying to put a career together, to save the day, and you're being fussy because she doesn't have quite as much playtime anymore."
He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, trying to come up with a retort. Unfortunately, nothing was coming out of his flapping mouth.
Moving in for the kill, she looked back at the table, lining up a new shot. "And now, after you almost blew up Russia and destroyed several millions of dollars in foreign experimental weapons' research, she asks you to stay out of the way, and you get all huffy at her." Sinking the eight ball and finishing the game, she looked up at him with a straight face. "So did I get everything right?"
"Well, yeah…" he muttered, scratching his head. "But it sounds really stupid the way you put it."
"Uh-huh." Sauntering over, she held her hand out expectantly. After a minute, Ron sighed and pulled a few crumpled bills from his pocket, placing them in Monique's waiting palm. Giving him a grateful smile, she stowed her new money and offered Ron a comforting arm on his shoulder. "Look, Ron…You shouldn't take this thing personally. I mean, you never really liked the danger aspect of the saving-the-world thing, right?"
"I guess." he shrugged.
Squeezing him in an impromptu hug, she kissed him on the cheek. "So be happy for her, and be a little patient. I'm sure she'll come around after she settles down a little. Just be patient…"
"Okay, okay." he sighed, hugging her back. "I guess I am overacting just a little…" he admitted begrudgingly. "I'll…give her a call tomorrow, or something." The sting of being 'fired' from the old team hadn't faded at all, but Monique had several good points. Despite what he had said, it 'was' hard to overlook the fact that he had nearly irradiated a good chunk of the former Soviet Union, an act that wasn't earning him any sidekick points.
"That's better."
His half-smile disappeared as he caught sight of his watch. "Oh man, I'm late!" he cried, tossing the pool cue onto the table and grabbing his jacket.
As his smile shrunk, Monique's grew. "Does that mean you can't stay and be suckered out of a couple more bucks? I still have a couple books I need to pick up for class."
"Sorry, gorgeous, but I can't." he rushed over to the glasses, immediately selecting the correct one and pouring the gelatinous mole rat into his cargo pocket. "I gotta get to work. First day on the job, and all."
"Well." Monique put her hands on her hips, watching Ron collect himself in a hustle. "I never thought I'd see the day when Ronald Stoppable got himself work. Someone call the Vatican, 'cause the Apocalypse must be around the corner."
His answer came in the form of another nasty face. "Very funny. My uncle helped me get a job downtown at a Restaurant to help me work off my debt." He caught her in one last hug, pulling away with an apologetic look. "Sorry to cut and run." he said, hurrying off.
Now sure of which was hers, she picked up her lemonade and took a sip, smiling as he rushed towards the far exit. Just as he rushed out the right-side door, she saw a flash of orange-red enter through the door on the far left. "S'okay," she said to the far-departed Ron with a knowing smile on her face, raising her arm to flag down the owner of the red hair, "I think I just got my second customer for the evening."
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"-and he wouldn't even sit near me in lecture today." Kim complained, leaning against her pool cue.
"Mm-hmm." Monique hummed, planting the eight ball into the center pocket and winning the game. "So he hasn't talked to you since you guys got back from Hong Kong?"
"He wouldn't even ride in the same plane with me." Kim sighed dejectedly, pulling a few bills from her pocket and slapping them on the table. "I checked in with Wade…who isn't thrilled with me, either, but at least he's talking to me. He said Ron got home okay…only thing that kept me from going nuts with worry."
"Yeah," Monique picked up the bills, then set about putting the table back in order for another game. "I'm sure Ron's just overreacting, anyway."
Kim's face brightened as she watched Monique break in the new game. "Yeah!" she said with a nod, moving around the table and lining up her shot. "Ron's totally overreacting to all of this. I mean, he's the one that wanted me to take this stupid job with GJ anyway!"
"Mm-hmm."
"And he's been showing off on missions, too! Like he's all Jet Li, with a little Robin Williams thrown in for good measure." she added, neatly sinking a pair into the corner pocket. Grinning with triumph, she moved around, ready to put another of her striped set into the center pocket.
"Yeah, that's not Ron-like at all." Monique rolled her eyes.
"And those moves!" Kim added, sinking another shot. Apparently, fury helped her play pool. Monique was going to have to calm her down, or the game would be over before she even got another shot. "He goes off to Japan for the entire summer, to some 'summer session', or whatever," she put the words in quotes with her fingers, rolling her eyes. "And then he comes back and fights Shego to a standstill, and expects me to swallow some stupid story about him studying trig?"
"Totally bogus." Monique nodded, folding her arms.
"And how hypocritical can he be?" Kim stood up for a moment, too wrapped up in her tirade to play pool as she nodded from side to side, adopting a dopey voice. "'You aren't spending any time with me, Kay-Peeeeee.' I barely hear from him while he's over there, and he gets huffy when I'm away for a few days?"
"What a jerk." Her friend shook her head, walking over with her lemonade to stand behind Kim as the heroine lined up her shot. "It's not like you've been ignoring him, or anything."
The quip had the desired effect; Kim's cue went wild, scraping across the green felt and spinning her shot towards the wrong end of the table. "Um…yeah." Kim said, this time a little less certain.
"And I'm sure you've been spending as much time with Ron as you can," Monique continued, glad for the chance to finally get into the game. She sunk one of her own balls, moving around the table to set up a new shot as she gave Kim a pointed look. "After all, he's been helping you out a lot lately, what with moving you in to two different places and all…"
"Yeah…"
"But you know Ron, always overreacting." Monique shrugged, shouldering her pool cue as she took another drink of her lemonade. "Remember that time he thought the guys on the football team were spreading those ugly rumors about you, and he ended up confronting the whole team?"
Kim turned scarlet at the memory, recalling how Ron had dangled from the roof in nothing but his underwear for an entire hour because some of the team 'might' have been saying ugly things about her. In the end, it had turned out that Bonnie was the one starting the rumors, and even then it had been Ron who had quickly (and enthusiastically) put the kibosh on them. "Yeah…" she muttered.
The glass hid Monique's smile as she finished off the sweet pink liquid. "Well, I guess he's always been like that. Flying off the handle for no reason, wanting to spend time with his best friend…feeling left out and worried, seeing her rush off into the face of danger with someone he doesn't trust." She leaned over, sinking two more perfect shots.
With a sigh, Kim surrendered. Monique made several good, blatant points. Plus, she had been doing a lot of volunteer training with Will without second thought. It was just her nature; when she started something, she jumped in with both feet. If her destiny was to be a Global Justice agent, then she would be the best, end of story. However, all that training had cut severely into her 'Ron-time'.
…and she missed her best friend.
"Okay, okay…" she sighed, leaning against the table as she watched Monique make the rest of her shots flawlessly, ending the second game with the same outcome as the first. Monique's hand flapped expectantly, eliciting another sigh and a few more dollar bills from her. "I did sort of…'forget' a few things with Ron this last week. And I haven't exactly been there for him lately, but…Well, I've been busy."
"Don't see why you need to be making excuses to me." Monique said lightly, looking as innocent as a newborn babe. "I was agreeing with you, remember?"
"No, you weren't." Kim said in an accusing tone. "You were doing that thing where you get me to realize what a jerk I've been, and how I need to spend more time with my best friend who's helped me out a lot this week." Then she blinked, surprised at the force of the words that had just come out of her mouth.
Monique let her stew for a few moments more, savoring the sight of the fabulous Kim Possible at a loss for words. Then she took the cue stick from her with a gentle hand, giving her an encouraging smile. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe…and this is just a theory, but maybe…you kind of take Ron for granted?"
"What?" In spite of her previous words, Kim scoffed at this, placing her hands dangerously on her hips. "I do 'not' take Ron for granted!"
"Okay." Monique held her hands up, warding Kim's anger off playfully. "All I'm saying is, if a guy did all the stuff Ron did for me, without asking a single thing in return except wanting to spend time with me…Well," she shrugged noncommittally, "I might even think he dug me, or something."
This time, Kim's laugh wasn't sarcastic, but actually amused. "What? You honestly think Ron 'digs me'?" With a snort, she turned around, trying to wrap her head around the concept. "That's ridiculous! Ron just did the things he did because…" She stopped, turning around. The twitch at Mon's lips was hard to miss. "He did them because he's Ron." she sighed at last.
"Mm-hmm." Monique nodded with a smug look of satisfaction.
Kim was out-maneuvered, and she knew it. Still, it didn't mean that she couldn't put up a huffy, irritated front, just for tradition's sake. "Okay. Okay!" she threw her hands up. "I've been a little distant…and I was a little hard on him back at Hong Kong."
The smugness hadn't vanished yet from Monique's features. "Mm-hmm." she hummed again.
Her ire was shot down, visible as her shoulders sunk slowly. The woolen sweater hanging from her wiry frame deflated like a balloon. "I should call him, shouldn't I?"
"Might be a good idea." Monique shrugged again, setting the pool cues down onto the table for the next set of players. "Might even be the smartest thing you've said all evening."
"Point taken." The smile returned to Kim's features as she caught Mon in a friendly hug. "I'm gonna go home to call him right now."
Mon watched her take a couple steps, hiding her secret disappointment; It pained her a little to know that she wouldn't get ahold of Ron for a while, what with him working, but she took heart in knowing that things were going to get better. Suddenly feeling very satisfied with herself she weaved her way through the pool tables and ping-pong setups, making for the juice bar set up in the darkened corner of the large room.
"Another lemonade, please," she smiled at the bartender there, who was happy to fill her order after she slapped a few of Kim and Ron's hard-earned dollars onto the counter. "I think I've earned it."
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