=All-Porpoise Disclaimer=
Kim Possible is not a marine mammal. As such, she possesses no blow hole. Neither does she have fins of the dorsal 'or' ventral variety. Ron, though he certainly has tuna for brains and is very playful, is likewise not a dolphin. In fact, none of the characters in Kim Possible live under the sea, fabulous though Sebastian the Crab makes it sound via song. Rufus, though, with his newfound ability to morph and go all Jell-O™-like, is another matter. Who knows what he can do?
=Rating Notification=
The rating of this fanfiction has been upgraded to PG-13 for use of the word "bra".
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Kim Possible
The Power of Love
by Cyberwraith9
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The door to Ron's apartment burst open, allowing the pair of stumbling teens to spill out into the dingy, yellowing hallway. Their laughter rang in short, shrieking gasps as, arm in arm, they somehow managed to stay on their feet. Both kept a tight hold on a large bottle of clear liquid, lest the precious container slip from their grasp.
Kim gently wrestled the vessel from Ron's grasp, taking a long swig. The liquid tasted vaguely of raspberries, and burned the entire way down. "Oh, man," she coughed, wiping her mouth as she handed it back to Ron, "This stuff is awful!"
"I thought you'd like it," Ron grinned, then took a hit of his won. Between the two of them, the bottle was nearly empty. "I knew you had a thing for raspberries, anyway."
"And just how is that?" she slurred, putting her hands on her hips as she tried to decide which Ron in front of her to get angry against. They seemed to multiply with every drink she took.
"Simple," he said, blinking one eye at a time as he stared warmly at his best friend. "I know you better than anyone."
"Do not," Kim said just to be contrary. After all the grief Ron had given her lately, he deserved a little in retaliation. Her balance began to falter, so she placed a hand on the disgusting wallpaper to keep upright. The other hand she gainfully employed in taking the bottle from Ron, which he released willingly.
Ron's grin became devilish as Kim proceeded to empty the bottle. "Oh yeah?" he asked coyly, reaching around her back. "Anyone else know your size?" He snapped her bra strap, causing her to spit up a mouthful of liquid and cloud the air with a haze of alcohol.
"Ron!" she choked, slapping his arm as he dissolved into peals of laughter. She couldn't help but laugh, too, until she took notice of their inventory. "Now look," she groused half-heartedly, "It's all gone." She turned the bottle upside down to prove it, letting the last few drops drizzle onto the carpet.
Ron took the bottle, pressing it to his face as he examined it thoroughly. Kim couldn't help but laugh at his distorted features through the glass of the bottle as he searched in vain for some secret cache within the tiny confines. Finding none, he tossed it aside, letting the bottle clonk onto the floor uselessly. "S'oh-kay-pee," he slurred, putting an arm around her shoulder as he led her down the hall. "My uncle keeps a pretty decent stash down in the basement."
Together, the duo staggered into the apartment's stairwell and began their descent. Ron produced a flashlight from somewhere and lit the way, for it was very dark all of a sudden. Kim's eyes searched in vain for a light switch, but she wasn't too upset when there wasn't one to be found; as long as she stuck close to Ron, things would be okay.
The stairs stretched ever downward, patterned in a circle and disappearing into that blackness which Ron's flashlight couldn't breach. At some point, the railing simply stopped, leaving Kim to cling to the wall lest she slip over the edge. "This is a really deep basement," she heard herself say. The only response she heard was her own echo as Ron silently urged her onward.
At last the stairs gave way to a dark, murky floor. Kim was relieved to step onto the solid ground, which felt gritty beneath her feet. Her head still felt fuzzy from the alcohol, but she managed to follow Ron's beam around the room. It was a large, square room, but curiously empty. She would have expected a boiler, or pipes, or something. The walls were black and featureless, composed of the same gritty stone they now stood on. The place had an eerie feel to it, like a crypt, or a catacomb.
"Over here!" Ron exclaimed, leading her by the hand as he shined his flashlight on a niche in the wall that hadn't been there a moment ago. It was small, and not very deep, so Kim wasn't surprised that it had escaped her notice in the pitch-black room.
Kim's head began to clear as Ron led her further into the room. A cold chill seeped into her bones, bringing with it something she usually didn't feel; fright. "Ron, I don't-"
Ron's arm jerked her forward as they reached the niche, slamming her into the small opening and against the obsidian stone beyond. Her teeth rattled as she struck the wall, filling her vision with stars. Through the pain and confusion, she could feel something cold wrapping around her wrists and ankles.
The agony subsided quickly, leaving her with a clear, pounding head. She tried to rub her eyes, but couldn't; something stayed her hands, binding them close to the wall. As she tried to move, she heard a metallic clanking noise, and felt the cool kiss of metal tying her back. "Ron," she moaned into the darkened room, "Ron, where-"
"Right here, Kim," came the cold reply. Suddenly Ron's face appeared in a column of light as he held the flashlight beneath his chin. His face held a fierce quality, almost demonic, as he sneered at her. "Everything okay?"
"Ron, what's going on? Is this a joke?" She pulled fiercely against the chains, but they were too solid. "This isn't funny!"
"This is no joke." he said, keeping the smile in place as he set the flashlight down. By this time Kim's eyes had adjusted to the dark. She could see a pile of masonry sitting at Ron's feet, and a tub of cement that was already mixed. "This is payback," he growled, picking up a trowel and a brick.
Kim's blood ran as ice as Ron set to work, laying a row of bricks at the mouth of the niche. She panicked, pulling and tugging at the chains that bound her, screaming at the top of her lungs. Ron screamed right back, pounding his trowel against the wall with an unholy wail until he drowned her out, and she fell silent.
Tears flowed openly on her cheeks as she watched Ron lay brick after brick. Her muffled blubbering was ignored as he whistled a happy tune, putting up two more rows in no time at all. The wall he was building was already up to her knees by then. "Why are you doing this?" she whimpered.
He looked up, pausing for a moment as he stood and brushed his hands clean. "Why?" He leaned in, looking at her thoughtfully. "That's a good question, actually. There are lots of good questions we never get the answers to, don't you think?" Before she could answer, he launched, "Why didn't you ever notice me? Why didn't you care about me?" His voice remained calm, as if he was discussing recent weather.
"I do care!" she insisted, straining against her shackles as he returned to his work. "Ron, please!"
He kept laying bricks, ignoring her completely. Though is voice continued on, it was clear he was only talking to himself. "Why didn't she see how much she hurt me?" he asked, shaking his head. "Why was she always ignoring me?"
"Ron," she moaned, collapsing against the wall. She couldn't stop the bitter tears now, no matter how hard she tried. "Please, let me go," she begged, "I love you!"
The words surprised both of them into a sudden silence. Ron's masonry stopped for a second time as he looked up in wonderment, his eyes shining in the dark. Kim felt a small glimmer of hope, but it quickly faded as he spoke in a soft hurt whisper. "She really believes that, doesn't she?" he asked himself before continuing on in his gruesome task.
Kim grew desperate as the wall now reached her waist. "Ron," she cried weakly, sagging into a fitful, weeping stupor. "Please…"
"She doesn't love me," he repeated to himself, adopting it as a sort of mantra. "She doesn't love me. She doesn't care about me. She never has. All she loves is herself."
"I love you," she whimpered again, watching the wall rise even with her chin.
Ron's eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he poked into the niche, screaming, "LIAR!" She sobbed even harder as he continued to pile the bricks higher and higher. The light seeping into her tomb steadily waned, though Ron left a small break in the wall at her eye-level so she could hear him ranting and foaming. "You ONLY love YOURSELF! You never cared about anyone, and now you just toss me ASIDE!"
The wall was complete now, save for the single space he had left open. She watched in horror as a single, chocolate eye appeared in the gap, staring at her hatefully. Her panic renewed itself as she reached out for him, stopped just short by the chains. She shrieked and sobbed and struggled with all of her might, but it was all for naught.
"Ron," she pleaded one last time.
His words would haunt her for the rest of her life, however long that would be. His voice burned into her mind, low and haunting, possessing a serenity that scarred her more than any amount of shouting or screaming ever could.
"You shouldn't have played me, KP."
He stared at her a moment more before his eye slid aside. A brick rose in its place, cutting away the last of her light and leaving her to drown in the ocean of pure black. She screamed and gasped, thrashing about, she had to get free, had to get out, she felt trapped and alone, why, why, why was this happening, why-
Kim Possible jerked awake with a gasp, almost toppling out of her chair as the world spun around her. She was covered in a thin sheet of sweat, and could feel her pulse pounding in her ears.
With an irritated sigh, her literary teacher looked down the rows to glare at her seat in the back. He was a tall, dreary looking man dressed in black, with dark, greasy hair and an even darker outlook on life. "Is there a problem, Ms. Possible?" he asked snappishly.
Regaining her senses, Kim looked about with a light blush at her cheeks. Her teacher and the rest of the class were all staring at her with mixed emotions, ranging from irritation to concern to amusement. Beneath her lay a drool-covered book of collected Poe stories that had served as her pillow during the accidental nap.
Though embarrassed, she wasn't surprised at her lack of focus. Sleep had eluded her for much of the past week. Even worse, it punished her with horrible nightmares whenever she did manage to catch it, making for a fitful five days.
"Sorry, Professor," she apologized awkwardly, rubbing the last of the sleep from her eyes. The educator returned to his monotone lecture with an indignant sniff, leaving Kim to dwell alone on the disturbing menagerie that had been her dream.
'What was that all about?' she wondered, scratching her head. And why had she said what she did? Those three words buzzed in her brain, going round and round in circles. 'I love you. I love you.' She had never said that to Ron for as long as they had known one another. She hadn't even spoken to him all week! What would make her own mind say something like that to a Ron that didn't even exist?
She knew Ron would be there at her Physics lecture, which was her next class. After such a dream, she couldn't stand the thought of facing him, though at this point, any contact would probably be accidental anyway. Still, even seeing him now would just confuse her more. She needed to get away…
As the professor dismissed his class, Kim reached for her Communicator, intent on calling the only other people she could talk to anymore.
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"And so you see, that's how we defy the laws of thermodynamics and create perpetual energy!"
Ron could hardly pay attention to Wade's virtual lecture as the thirteen-year-old genius regaled his class with stories about his freelance work in commercial engineering. The complex diagrams hardly registered to his bleary, bloodshot eyes as he stared straight ahead, unable to think and uncaring about what it would mean for his grade.
Wade looked to his left, checking up on his monitor. "Whoops!" he said, deleting the schematics for his revolutionary new power source from the big screen, "It looks like I've kept you guys a little later than I should have. Go on, now!"
With a bone-weary sigh, Ron stood up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He hadn't even bothered to take notes that day, which would probably get him in trouble later. It had been like that all week, since the psychotic episode at The Fancy Truffle. Well, so much the better. What was one more thing?
His uncle had been furious with him after he found out Ron had been fired two measly days since he had gotten the job. Apparently, Don and Jean Pierre went way back, and the portly restaurateur had expressed a great deal of disappointment in Ron…so much so that his uncle was deaf to Ron's pleas for an extension. Come the end of the month, he would be asked to pay both halves of the rent, and he only possessed one. Family or no, money was always money to Uncle Don. He would have to go somewhere else. The only trouble was, he didn't have anywhere to go.
"Ron!"
"Hey Ron!"
And more bad news was awaiting him at the top of the stairs, waving to him frantically behind the last row of seats. He glanced dejectedly at the pair of faces, and wondered if he could convince Wade to invent a device to catapult him off of the face of the planet. At the moment, it seemed a more attractive prospect than talking to anything that reminded him of…her.
Jim and Tim ran forward as the lecture hall emptied out, looking concerned and upset. "Ron, what's the deal?" Jim asked.
"Yeah, man," Tim added, eyeballing their surrogate big brother, "You look terrible."
Ron looked down at his wrinkled, three-day-old clothes. Rufus' head emerged from the tattered pocket, nodding vigorously up at him as if to agree. He scowled, running his hand over a week's worth of baby-fuzz stubble. "So?" he asked tiredly. "S'not like I'm trying to impress anyone."
Jim approached him, but then stopped short, cringing as he waved a hand in front of his face. "And you smell-"
"-just awful!" Tim finished, mimicking his brother.
"Yes, thank you fashion police." Ron grabbed them, spinning them around and giving them each a hearty shove. "Now if you don't mind, I have some very important wallowing to do."
"Wait a sec!" Jim cried.
"That's not why we wanted to talk to you!" Tim added.
Ron stopped, folding his arms as he leaned against the back of the row of chairs. "Okay," he said disinterestedly, "What?"
The pair hesitated only a second before speaking in unison. "Have you heard from Kim lately?"
Ron blinked as he absently wondered if it was the 'entire' universe that was out to get him, or just his small corner. "No. Thanks. Bye." He tried to leave again, but the twins simply spread out, blocking his way.
"This is serious!" Tim insisted. "We haven't heard from her all week-"
"And she won't pick up her phone-"
"Or answer any of our messages."
"She won't even talk to mom and dad…" Jim finished sadly.
What was that? Kim, dropping off of the face of the earth? The pettier part of Ron whooped and hollered, jumping up and down in its lonely corner of his mind. The rest of him, however, experienced a large, annoying swell of concern. Luckily, he was able to ignore it, and pay more attention to the first little guy. Ron figured 'he' had the right idea.
"So? Why come to me?" he grunted. "Kim's probably jetted off in her fancy new hoverjet with little Willy Doofus. They're probably in Vegas getting hitched as we speak. Why should I care?" He hefted his backpack, scooting around the pair with a bitter huff. "Now scat. Don't you two have a Doublemint commercial to do, or something?"
The twins' faces drooped so badly that even Ron, in his solo state of self-pity, couldn't help feeling guilty. "Come on, Ron…" Jim said.
"It's not like that…" Tim added heartfully.
With a sigh, Ron dropped his pack and turned around, ruffling the pair about the head and messing up their hair. They protested, but the smiles returned to their faces as he said, "I'm sorry, guys. It's just…been a rough time with Kim lately. Among other things…"
The boys suddenly brightened, sharing a spontaneous idea. Part of Ron grimaced inwardly, recognizing the look in an instant; it usually came before the Possible twins tried to put together something that exploded, burned, vaporized, melted, or otherwise destroyed a good portion of the landscape. He had lost track of the number of times one of their inventions had forced him to re-grow his eyebrows.
"Why not come over to dinner tonight?" Jim asked?
Red flags immediately waved behind Ron's eyes as his suspicions were confirmed. Dinner at the Possible house? "I don't know if that's-"
"Aw, who cares about Kim?" Tim interjected with a wave, totally contradicting their case a moment ago. "She won't be there."
"Besides," Jim said excitedly, "Mom's been moaning and complaining about how empty the house is without," and he adopted a motherly pose and tone, "Our little Kimmie around."
"Yeah, she's totally been going Empty Nest Syndrome on us." Tim groaned. He looked pleadingly to Ron, and his brother soon followed suit. "Please Ron?"
"It'd be a big favor to us-"
"-letting mom fuss over someone else for a while."
Rufus burst from Ron's pocket, scampering up the boy's shoulder and pleading right into his ear. The mole rat distinctly remembered dining conditions at the Possible house, and since Ron had been too depressed to cook anything good all week, he wanted that food. "Pleeeeeeease?" Rufus begged, tugging on his ear.
"Well…" A home cooked meal did sound good. Besides, his parents were away on business. Where else was he going to go? "Okay."
"Hoo sha!" the boys high-fived one another, then grabbed Ron about the shoulders and led him from the hall in such a hurry that he barely snagged his book bag.
"But let's stop by your place," Jim said, holding his nose.
"Yeah, just to freshen up." Tim added, mimicking his brother.
With a roll of his eyes, Ron reluctantly agreed. "Sure. My motorcycle's parked just around the corner."
This time, the glint of excitement in the twins' eyes was more intense than ever. "Motorcycle?" they harmonized with a grin.
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Kim sighed contently as she leaned back from the table, pushing her plate away. Her belly was pleasantly full, and her heart ached a considerable amount less. "Thanks, Mom. That was great."
Her mother smiled back at her from the kitchen counter as she set about chopping vegetables for dinner. "Just some leftover pasta," she said with a modest shrug, "Are you sure you can't stay for dinner, dear? We're having stew." She motioned to the tantalizing array of carrots, potatoes and peppers before her, with a whole slew of other ingredients just waiting to be added.
The heroine's mouth watered at the thought of her mother's homemade stew, but she remained steadfast. "Wish I could," she apologized sincerely, "But I have training tonight with Will. Maybe…" she added coyly, twisting a lock of hair between her fingers, "You could send some with Jim and Tim the next time they head for the campus?"
Her father laughed from his chair right next to her. He put his paper down with a grin. "What's the matter," he asked wryly, "Isn't Global Justice feeding my daughter well enough?"
"Never mind him, dear." her mother said, rinsing her hands off in the sink as she prepared to add the meat. "We're just glad to see you. We've hardly heard from you since you went off to college."
The motherly guilt was unmistakable and, as always, worked like a charm. "I've been busy." she explained with a touch of defensiveness. "But I'll try to get back home more often."
"Always glad to have you," her mother assured her with a kiss to her scalp before returning to her enormous stewpot. As an afterthought, she added, "And bring Ron along, too. We haven't heard from him at all."
"Yes," her father agreed cheerfully, "How is Ronald?"
Kim blanched at the name, swallowing hard. "Uh, yeah…Ron." she mumbled, sinking down into her seat.
Her father frowned and leaned forward. "Kimmie, is there something wrong?" His face fairly dripped with fatherly concern. "You can talk to us about anything, you know that."
"How do you know when you're in love?"
The blurted question exploded from Kim's lips, striking Mister-Doctor Possible with all the force of a cannon shell. He slumped back into his seat, looking as though the very essence had been drained from his body. He looked at her as if from a great distance, blinking rapidly. "Are we talking about the love a woman has for a fine chocolate?"
"No, dad." Kim said with a mixture of worry and annoyance. She wondered if it was her imagination, but she could have sworn that his hair was turning even grayer by the second.
"Great movie?"
"No, dad."
"Favorite spoon?" he asked hopefully.
"Dad!" she huffed, clutching at the hair near her temples. "It's a guy, okay?"
Mr. Possible blinked a moment more, considering the new information. The brilliant gears in his mind were twisting and turning, processing the best course of action in a horrific situation such as this. Finally, he chose the path that any great father would take in the same situation.
"Tag." he said to his wife, looking in her direction with a pleading expression.
She was drying her hands with a broad smile, as if she had already expected this. "Watch the stew, dear."
Her husband jumped obediently to his feet, moving towards dinner preparation with great gusto. Considering the alternative, it wasn't hard to imagine his enthusiasm. In the meantime, Mrs. Possible sat down next to her daughter, laying a hand on Kim's as comfortingly as she could.
"Why don't we start from the top, dear?" she suggested softly.
Taking a deep breath, Kim launched into a ten-minute version of the three weeks since moving out of Middleton: Drakken's incursion (which her father gladly added his two cents to, since he had been at the horrible ordeal), her first meeting with Will, 'their' first mission, her fight with Ron… By the time she was finished describing that awful night at The Fancy Truffle, she was nearly in tears again. She deliberately left out her awful dream in class, hoping to avoid another 'worried-mom' guilt trip.
Once her daughter's story was finished, Misses-Doctor Possible nodded appreciably. "That 'is' quite the situation, isn't it?"
"I don't know what to do anymore." Kim sighed, letting her head drop onto the cool wood of the tabletop. She buried her face in her arms, hoping to stem the fresh tide of tears that stung in her eyes. "Will's been great, but I totally don't know what to say, or do. And that Ron thing…"
"Well," her mother said slowly, rubbing Kim's back with a soft hand, "How do you feel about Will? Do you-"
"No!" Kim shot up indignantly. She calmed an instant later, getting hold of herself as quickly as she could. "I mean," she started again, this time more collectedly, "We just started working together. He's sweet and all, but…it's too soon to know anything like that."
"But there might be something." her mother sensed aloud.
"Yeah. Maybe. I dunno." Kim admitted sullenly. "He's smart, and cute, and dedicated, and…He's everything I could ever want in a guy. I dunno," she said again with a helpless shrug, "Maybe if I try, something will…click, or something."
Mrs. Possible smiled sweetly at this, confusing her daughter even further. "Honey," she said reluctantly, "I don't think anything ever just 'clicks' if you try hard enough. Either it does, or it doesn't."
"Well," Kim countered with a sniff, "How did you know Dad was the one for you?"
She leaned back into her chair, her grin growing as memories flooded through her mind. "Oh, that's easy." Mrs. Possible murmured, lacing her fingers together. She looked to her daughter, her eyes growing misty as she retreated further and further back in time. "You see, when I met your father, I was dating a young, wealthy, well-to-do student at Upperton…"
"Kenny Maddox." her father's voice piped in from across the kitchen, carrying with it just a hint of bitterness. "Layabout pretty boy, if you ask me."
"Oh, he was handsome," his wife nodded, recalling his hard, chiseled features with a warm smile. "And he made quite the boyfriend. There was this one time-"
"Ahem." Mr. Possible grunted softly, stirring the pot with an unusually loud clank of the wooden spoon.
"Anyway," her mother jumped ahead, "He wasn't the only one vying for my attention. There was another certain young scientist at the same grad school…he was good-natured and kind, if a bit clumsy at times." She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands as she stared dreamily at the man she had married. "He had a sweet smile, and we actually became quite good friends."
"So, that was when you knew you wanted to marry Dad?" Kim asked hopefully, wary of any more mush spilled her way.
"Oh, heavens no!" her mother shot up with a snort. "I was head-over-heels in love with Kenny-"
"Good-for-nothing playboy!" Mr. Possible added again, giving the stew another angry stir. His jaw was clenched unnaturally tight at the memory of his old rival.
"So what happened?" Kim asked in a hushed tone. Suddenly, the story had captured her interest. It wasn't every day a daughter found out her parents had actually been…well, not-parents at one time.
"Well, one night, a group of us went out for a night on the town. There was myself, Kenny, your father, and a few others from our respective fields. Anyway…" she continued, leaning in close.
Kim did the same, suddenly seeing her mother in a new light; it was as if she were Kim's age, gossiping about this and that boyfriend in hushed tones at a slumber party. The teen couldn't help but smile.
"…we all ended up at the park, sharing a couple bottles of…um," she suddenly turned scarlet, averting her eyes a moment. "Never mind the refreshments," she told Kim, whose smile had doubled. "We were sitting by the lake, when suddenly, Kenny stands up on this bench and announces that he has something very important he just 'had' to ask me."
"He didn't."
Mrs. Possible nodded excitedly as Mr. Possible grew even tenser. "He jumped down from the bench, landed on one knee in front of me, pulled out a little black velvet box, and asked me to marry him right then and there."
Kim blinked, taken aback. She had never known her parents' lives had been so…dramatic. She pictured them as the rather bland people she had known her entire life…though maybe that was just one aspect, and she had never noticed the rest. "What did you do?"
"Well," her mother said, "I was about to say yes, when something amazing happened." She stood from her seat, sauntering over to her husband with a sly smile as she said, "I caught your father's eye, and I saw…"
"What did you see?" Kim asked, unable to bear the wait. "What?"
She slipped her arms around her husband's waist, chasing away his insecurities with a kiss to his cheek. Turning back to her daughter, she said, "I saw my future."
"Your…future?" Kim asked. She hadn't been expecting such a cornball answer. It was kind of disappointing.
Nodding, she snuggled her head into Mr. Possible's neck, who gave her a kiss atop her head. "That's right. I saw my future right there in your father's eyes, and I knew then and there I couldn't say yes to Kenny. So I didn't. And six months later…" she shrugged, smiling at her beloved. "Well, you know the rest, I suppose."
"Future." Kim said again. It all seemed so ridiculous, like the sappy ending to a romantic comedy. She had a little trouble imagining herself seeing her future in anyone's eyes. "Oh-kay." Glancing at the kitchen clock, she cursed inwardly. "Oh man…" she moaned, rising to her feet. "I gotta get going."
"So soon?" her mother looked crushed.
"I'll visit again," Kim promised as she rushed over, kissing both her parents on the cheek before she rushed out the door. "Real soon, I promise!" she called back before the door swung shot.
Her father watched her leap into the black sedan GJ had provided her for city transportation and jet off at decidedly unsafe speeds. He sighed lightly as he shared another kiss with his wife, who was grinning mischievously. "You know, I distinctly recall a much different story," he said neutrally.
"Oh really?" she asked, playfully kissing the tip of his nose.
"For example," he began, unaffected by her feminine wiles, "I recall Maddox dating three other girls when he asked you to marry him."
"Mm-hmm." his wife cooed, settling her face into the nape of his neck again.
"I also recall a particularly vicious right hook when you found out." he added, lifting her limp right arm and jiggling the hand in front of her. "This one, if I'm not mistaken."
Patting him on the cheek, she gave him another quick kiss and said, "Well, Kim needed some encouragement. Besides," she added as she took over the stew duties once more, letting her husband return to his paper, "I think I like that version better. It has more drama, more pizzazz. Don't you think?"
He snorted, finding his place in the daily paper again as he said, "I think we have enough drama around here without inventing more."
A quick, black shadow darted onto their street, catching Mrs. Possible's eye through the window. With a happy expression, she watched her long lost pseudo-son pull into the driveway, carrying with him the rest of her family. Each of her sons had a helmet on, which she was grateful for, though it left the third with only his shaggy blonde hair to protect him. She wasn't too concerned; she knew that Ron would never let anything happen to them.
"Glad I made extra," she quipped to her husband as Ron and the boys walked into the kitchen, chattering excitedly. From the look of the smile on Ron's face, he was just as glad to be there as she was to have him. After all, a mother has to look out for 'all' of her flock, even after they leave the nest.
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The elevator doors parted for Kim as she reached her apartment floor. Her mother's words were ringing in her ears still, and in truth she felt more confused than ever. Sentimental tripe was all right when there weren't any crises to get in the way of pondering them, but she was too busy to try and solve her problems with mushy sappiness.
She was a little surprised to see Will already walking towards her, suited up in his uniform and looking serious as usual. Absently, she wondered if everything was all right. They were supposed to be working out together that night. "Hey," she greeted him with a smile she didn't really feel, "What's going on?"
He paused, giving her a genuine grin in return. "Sorry to cancel on you," he said, "But Doctor Director wants to meet with me immediately. I think it may have something to do with the Drakken situation."
Her face lit up at the prospect of something productive to do. "Wait a sec," she said, tugging at the bottom of her short, lime tank top, "I'll go get my suit."
Will seemed apologetic as he held up his hands. "No need. She's requested a private meeting."
"Oh." Kim sometimes forgot that she was a junior agent in GJ, not one of the tops like Will. She was going to have to get used to working her way up the totem pole, like she had as an independent when she first started out on her own.
'…except you weren't really on your own, were you?' her brain reminded her snidely.
"Don't worry," Will assured her. "I'll fill you in when I get back. It's probably nothing important."
"Sure," she heard herself say hollowly. "I can, uh, catch up on my homework." That was a blatant lie, of course; she always stayed three steps ahead on her homework, just in case a mission ever came up. It was an old habit that had served her well, but now it left her with nothing to do. She watched Will trot down the hallway, disappearing behind the elevator doors with one last wave and a wink at her, which she weakly returned. Then, with a heavy heart, she turned and entered her apartment.
The expansive, echoing walls that had seemed so inviting a few weeks ago now mocked her in silence as she walked through the door. It slid shut behind her with a hiss of finality, trapping her in the world she had wanted so badly.
Mechanically, Kim went to her refrigerator and began preparing a simple dinner, a tuna fish sandwich and a few vegetables. She spread the bland white goop onto her bland white bread without a sound, save for the disgusting glorp of the meat as it left the can. Pouring a glass of milk, she sat down at the counter and flipped on the tiny TV set next to her.
Images and sounds leapt out at her, filling the empty apartment with artificial company. Phony laugh tracks and howling commercials bounced uselessly against her eyes and ears, never fully penetrating the cloak of gloom she had draped around her slumped shoulders.
"Yeah," she sighed to her television, pushing away the plate of food. Her appetite had suddenly fled her anyway. "This sure is the life, huh? Nothing but excitement and adventure as a secret agent…"
The television answered her with commercial for a dating service. Disgusted, Kim flipped the treacherous device off and spent the rest of the evening in total silence. There were no books left to read, no shows left worth watching…and no friends left to call.
That night, sleep eluded her once more.
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[Ten points to the first reviewer who can properly identify the short story stolen…erm, 'utilized for inspiration' in the dream segment. Two bonus points if you can pronounce it properly (hint: the l's are silent)]
Kim Possible is not a marine mammal. As such, she possesses no blow hole. Neither does she have fins of the dorsal 'or' ventral variety. Ron, though he certainly has tuna for brains and is very playful, is likewise not a dolphin. In fact, none of the characters in Kim Possible live under the sea, fabulous though Sebastian the Crab makes it sound via song. Rufus, though, with his newfound ability to morph and go all Jell-O™-like, is another matter. Who knows what he can do?
=Rating Notification=
The rating of this fanfiction has been upgraded to PG-13 for use of the word "bra".
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Kim Possible
The Power of Love
by Cyberwraith9
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The door to Ron's apartment burst open, allowing the pair of stumbling teens to spill out into the dingy, yellowing hallway. Their laughter rang in short, shrieking gasps as, arm in arm, they somehow managed to stay on their feet. Both kept a tight hold on a large bottle of clear liquid, lest the precious container slip from their grasp.
Kim gently wrestled the vessel from Ron's grasp, taking a long swig. The liquid tasted vaguely of raspberries, and burned the entire way down. "Oh, man," she coughed, wiping her mouth as she handed it back to Ron, "This stuff is awful!"
"I thought you'd like it," Ron grinned, then took a hit of his won. Between the two of them, the bottle was nearly empty. "I knew you had a thing for raspberries, anyway."
"And just how is that?" she slurred, putting her hands on her hips as she tried to decide which Ron in front of her to get angry against. They seemed to multiply with every drink she took.
"Simple," he said, blinking one eye at a time as he stared warmly at his best friend. "I know you better than anyone."
"Do not," Kim said just to be contrary. After all the grief Ron had given her lately, he deserved a little in retaliation. Her balance began to falter, so she placed a hand on the disgusting wallpaper to keep upright. The other hand she gainfully employed in taking the bottle from Ron, which he released willingly.
Ron's grin became devilish as Kim proceeded to empty the bottle. "Oh yeah?" he asked coyly, reaching around her back. "Anyone else know your size?" He snapped her bra strap, causing her to spit up a mouthful of liquid and cloud the air with a haze of alcohol.
"Ron!" she choked, slapping his arm as he dissolved into peals of laughter. She couldn't help but laugh, too, until she took notice of their inventory. "Now look," she groused half-heartedly, "It's all gone." She turned the bottle upside down to prove it, letting the last few drops drizzle onto the carpet.
Ron took the bottle, pressing it to his face as he examined it thoroughly. Kim couldn't help but laugh at his distorted features through the glass of the bottle as he searched in vain for some secret cache within the tiny confines. Finding none, he tossed it aside, letting the bottle clonk onto the floor uselessly. "S'oh-kay-pee," he slurred, putting an arm around her shoulder as he led her down the hall. "My uncle keeps a pretty decent stash down in the basement."
Together, the duo staggered into the apartment's stairwell and began their descent. Ron produced a flashlight from somewhere and lit the way, for it was very dark all of a sudden. Kim's eyes searched in vain for a light switch, but she wasn't too upset when there wasn't one to be found; as long as she stuck close to Ron, things would be okay.
The stairs stretched ever downward, patterned in a circle and disappearing into that blackness which Ron's flashlight couldn't breach. At some point, the railing simply stopped, leaving Kim to cling to the wall lest she slip over the edge. "This is a really deep basement," she heard herself say. The only response she heard was her own echo as Ron silently urged her onward.
At last the stairs gave way to a dark, murky floor. Kim was relieved to step onto the solid ground, which felt gritty beneath her feet. Her head still felt fuzzy from the alcohol, but she managed to follow Ron's beam around the room. It was a large, square room, but curiously empty. She would have expected a boiler, or pipes, or something. The walls were black and featureless, composed of the same gritty stone they now stood on. The place had an eerie feel to it, like a crypt, or a catacomb.
"Over here!" Ron exclaimed, leading her by the hand as he shined his flashlight on a niche in the wall that hadn't been there a moment ago. It was small, and not very deep, so Kim wasn't surprised that it had escaped her notice in the pitch-black room.
Kim's head began to clear as Ron led her further into the room. A cold chill seeped into her bones, bringing with it something she usually didn't feel; fright. "Ron, I don't-"
Ron's arm jerked her forward as they reached the niche, slamming her into the small opening and against the obsidian stone beyond. Her teeth rattled as she struck the wall, filling her vision with stars. Through the pain and confusion, she could feel something cold wrapping around her wrists and ankles.
The agony subsided quickly, leaving her with a clear, pounding head. She tried to rub her eyes, but couldn't; something stayed her hands, binding them close to the wall. As she tried to move, she heard a metallic clanking noise, and felt the cool kiss of metal tying her back. "Ron," she moaned into the darkened room, "Ron, where-"
"Right here, Kim," came the cold reply. Suddenly Ron's face appeared in a column of light as he held the flashlight beneath his chin. His face held a fierce quality, almost demonic, as he sneered at her. "Everything okay?"
"Ron, what's going on? Is this a joke?" She pulled fiercely against the chains, but they were too solid. "This isn't funny!"
"This is no joke." he said, keeping the smile in place as he set the flashlight down. By this time Kim's eyes had adjusted to the dark. She could see a pile of masonry sitting at Ron's feet, and a tub of cement that was already mixed. "This is payback," he growled, picking up a trowel and a brick.
Kim's blood ran as ice as Ron set to work, laying a row of bricks at the mouth of the niche. She panicked, pulling and tugging at the chains that bound her, screaming at the top of her lungs. Ron screamed right back, pounding his trowel against the wall with an unholy wail until he drowned her out, and she fell silent.
Tears flowed openly on her cheeks as she watched Ron lay brick after brick. Her muffled blubbering was ignored as he whistled a happy tune, putting up two more rows in no time at all. The wall he was building was already up to her knees by then. "Why are you doing this?" she whimpered.
He looked up, pausing for a moment as he stood and brushed his hands clean. "Why?" He leaned in, looking at her thoughtfully. "That's a good question, actually. There are lots of good questions we never get the answers to, don't you think?" Before she could answer, he launched, "Why didn't you ever notice me? Why didn't you care about me?" His voice remained calm, as if he was discussing recent weather.
"I do care!" she insisted, straining against her shackles as he returned to his work. "Ron, please!"
He kept laying bricks, ignoring her completely. Though is voice continued on, it was clear he was only talking to himself. "Why didn't she see how much she hurt me?" he asked, shaking his head. "Why was she always ignoring me?"
"Ron," she moaned, collapsing against the wall. She couldn't stop the bitter tears now, no matter how hard she tried. "Please, let me go," she begged, "I love you!"
The words surprised both of them into a sudden silence. Ron's masonry stopped for a second time as he looked up in wonderment, his eyes shining in the dark. Kim felt a small glimmer of hope, but it quickly faded as he spoke in a soft hurt whisper. "She really believes that, doesn't she?" he asked himself before continuing on in his gruesome task.
Kim grew desperate as the wall now reached her waist. "Ron," she cried weakly, sagging into a fitful, weeping stupor. "Please…"
"She doesn't love me," he repeated to himself, adopting it as a sort of mantra. "She doesn't love me. She doesn't care about me. She never has. All she loves is herself."
"I love you," she whimpered again, watching the wall rise even with her chin.
Ron's eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he poked into the niche, screaming, "LIAR!" She sobbed even harder as he continued to pile the bricks higher and higher. The light seeping into her tomb steadily waned, though Ron left a small break in the wall at her eye-level so she could hear him ranting and foaming. "You ONLY love YOURSELF! You never cared about anyone, and now you just toss me ASIDE!"
The wall was complete now, save for the single space he had left open. She watched in horror as a single, chocolate eye appeared in the gap, staring at her hatefully. Her panic renewed itself as she reached out for him, stopped just short by the chains. She shrieked and sobbed and struggled with all of her might, but it was all for naught.
"Ron," she pleaded one last time.
His words would haunt her for the rest of her life, however long that would be. His voice burned into her mind, low and haunting, possessing a serenity that scarred her more than any amount of shouting or screaming ever could.
"You shouldn't have played me, KP."
He stared at her a moment more before his eye slid aside. A brick rose in its place, cutting away the last of her light and leaving her to drown in the ocean of pure black. She screamed and gasped, thrashing about, she had to get free, had to get out, she felt trapped and alone, why, why, why was this happening, why-
Kim Possible jerked awake with a gasp, almost toppling out of her chair as the world spun around her. She was covered in a thin sheet of sweat, and could feel her pulse pounding in her ears.
With an irritated sigh, her literary teacher looked down the rows to glare at her seat in the back. He was a tall, dreary looking man dressed in black, with dark, greasy hair and an even darker outlook on life. "Is there a problem, Ms. Possible?" he asked snappishly.
Regaining her senses, Kim looked about with a light blush at her cheeks. Her teacher and the rest of the class were all staring at her with mixed emotions, ranging from irritation to concern to amusement. Beneath her lay a drool-covered book of collected Poe stories that had served as her pillow during the accidental nap.
Though embarrassed, she wasn't surprised at her lack of focus. Sleep had eluded her for much of the past week. Even worse, it punished her with horrible nightmares whenever she did manage to catch it, making for a fitful five days.
"Sorry, Professor," she apologized awkwardly, rubbing the last of the sleep from her eyes. The educator returned to his monotone lecture with an indignant sniff, leaving Kim to dwell alone on the disturbing menagerie that had been her dream.
'What was that all about?' she wondered, scratching her head. And why had she said what she did? Those three words buzzed in her brain, going round and round in circles. 'I love you. I love you.' She had never said that to Ron for as long as they had known one another. She hadn't even spoken to him all week! What would make her own mind say something like that to a Ron that didn't even exist?
She knew Ron would be there at her Physics lecture, which was her next class. After such a dream, she couldn't stand the thought of facing him, though at this point, any contact would probably be accidental anyway. Still, even seeing him now would just confuse her more. She needed to get away…
As the professor dismissed his class, Kim reached for her Communicator, intent on calling the only other people she could talk to anymore.
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"And so you see, that's how we defy the laws of thermodynamics and create perpetual energy!"
Ron could hardly pay attention to Wade's virtual lecture as the thirteen-year-old genius regaled his class with stories about his freelance work in commercial engineering. The complex diagrams hardly registered to his bleary, bloodshot eyes as he stared straight ahead, unable to think and uncaring about what it would mean for his grade.
Wade looked to his left, checking up on his monitor. "Whoops!" he said, deleting the schematics for his revolutionary new power source from the big screen, "It looks like I've kept you guys a little later than I should have. Go on, now!"
With a bone-weary sigh, Ron stood up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He hadn't even bothered to take notes that day, which would probably get him in trouble later. It had been like that all week, since the psychotic episode at The Fancy Truffle. Well, so much the better. What was one more thing?
His uncle had been furious with him after he found out Ron had been fired two measly days since he had gotten the job. Apparently, Don and Jean Pierre went way back, and the portly restaurateur had expressed a great deal of disappointment in Ron…so much so that his uncle was deaf to Ron's pleas for an extension. Come the end of the month, he would be asked to pay both halves of the rent, and he only possessed one. Family or no, money was always money to Uncle Don. He would have to go somewhere else. The only trouble was, he didn't have anywhere to go.
"Ron!"
"Hey Ron!"
And more bad news was awaiting him at the top of the stairs, waving to him frantically behind the last row of seats. He glanced dejectedly at the pair of faces, and wondered if he could convince Wade to invent a device to catapult him off of the face of the planet. At the moment, it seemed a more attractive prospect than talking to anything that reminded him of…her.
Jim and Tim ran forward as the lecture hall emptied out, looking concerned and upset. "Ron, what's the deal?" Jim asked.
"Yeah, man," Tim added, eyeballing their surrogate big brother, "You look terrible."
Ron looked down at his wrinkled, three-day-old clothes. Rufus' head emerged from the tattered pocket, nodding vigorously up at him as if to agree. He scowled, running his hand over a week's worth of baby-fuzz stubble. "So?" he asked tiredly. "S'not like I'm trying to impress anyone."
Jim approached him, but then stopped short, cringing as he waved a hand in front of his face. "And you smell-"
"-just awful!" Tim finished, mimicking his brother.
"Yes, thank you fashion police." Ron grabbed them, spinning them around and giving them each a hearty shove. "Now if you don't mind, I have some very important wallowing to do."
"Wait a sec!" Jim cried.
"That's not why we wanted to talk to you!" Tim added.
Ron stopped, folding his arms as he leaned against the back of the row of chairs. "Okay," he said disinterestedly, "What?"
The pair hesitated only a second before speaking in unison. "Have you heard from Kim lately?"
Ron blinked as he absently wondered if it was the 'entire' universe that was out to get him, or just his small corner. "No. Thanks. Bye." He tried to leave again, but the twins simply spread out, blocking his way.
"This is serious!" Tim insisted. "We haven't heard from her all week-"
"And she won't pick up her phone-"
"Or answer any of our messages."
"She won't even talk to mom and dad…" Jim finished sadly.
What was that? Kim, dropping off of the face of the earth? The pettier part of Ron whooped and hollered, jumping up and down in its lonely corner of his mind. The rest of him, however, experienced a large, annoying swell of concern. Luckily, he was able to ignore it, and pay more attention to the first little guy. Ron figured 'he' had the right idea.
"So? Why come to me?" he grunted. "Kim's probably jetted off in her fancy new hoverjet with little Willy Doofus. They're probably in Vegas getting hitched as we speak. Why should I care?" He hefted his backpack, scooting around the pair with a bitter huff. "Now scat. Don't you two have a Doublemint commercial to do, or something?"
The twins' faces drooped so badly that even Ron, in his solo state of self-pity, couldn't help feeling guilty. "Come on, Ron…" Jim said.
"It's not like that…" Tim added heartfully.
With a sigh, Ron dropped his pack and turned around, ruffling the pair about the head and messing up their hair. They protested, but the smiles returned to their faces as he said, "I'm sorry, guys. It's just…been a rough time with Kim lately. Among other things…"
The boys suddenly brightened, sharing a spontaneous idea. Part of Ron grimaced inwardly, recognizing the look in an instant; it usually came before the Possible twins tried to put together something that exploded, burned, vaporized, melted, or otherwise destroyed a good portion of the landscape. He had lost track of the number of times one of their inventions had forced him to re-grow his eyebrows.
"Why not come over to dinner tonight?" Jim asked?
Red flags immediately waved behind Ron's eyes as his suspicions were confirmed. Dinner at the Possible house? "I don't know if that's-"
"Aw, who cares about Kim?" Tim interjected with a wave, totally contradicting their case a moment ago. "She won't be there."
"Besides," Jim said excitedly, "Mom's been moaning and complaining about how empty the house is without," and he adopted a motherly pose and tone, "Our little Kimmie around."
"Yeah, she's totally been going Empty Nest Syndrome on us." Tim groaned. He looked pleadingly to Ron, and his brother soon followed suit. "Please Ron?"
"It'd be a big favor to us-"
"-letting mom fuss over someone else for a while."
Rufus burst from Ron's pocket, scampering up the boy's shoulder and pleading right into his ear. The mole rat distinctly remembered dining conditions at the Possible house, and since Ron had been too depressed to cook anything good all week, he wanted that food. "Pleeeeeeease?" Rufus begged, tugging on his ear.
"Well…" A home cooked meal did sound good. Besides, his parents were away on business. Where else was he going to go? "Okay."
"Hoo sha!" the boys high-fived one another, then grabbed Ron about the shoulders and led him from the hall in such a hurry that he barely snagged his book bag.
"But let's stop by your place," Jim said, holding his nose.
"Yeah, just to freshen up." Tim added, mimicking his brother.
With a roll of his eyes, Ron reluctantly agreed. "Sure. My motorcycle's parked just around the corner."
This time, the glint of excitement in the twins' eyes was more intense than ever. "Motorcycle?" they harmonized with a grin.
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Kim sighed contently as she leaned back from the table, pushing her plate away. Her belly was pleasantly full, and her heart ached a considerable amount less. "Thanks, Mom. That was great."
Her mother smiled back at her from the kitchen counter as she set about chopping vegetables for dinner. "Just some leftover pasta," she said with a modest shrug, "Are you sure you can't stay for dinner, dear? We're having stew." She motioned to the tantalizing array of carrots, potatoes and peppers before her, with a whole slew of other ingredients just waiting to be added.
The heroine's mouth watered at the thought of her mother's homemade stew, but she remained steadfast. "Wish I could," she apologized sincerely, "But I have training tonight with Will. Maybe…" she added coyly, twisting a lock of hair between her fingers, "You could send some with Jim and Tim the next time they head for the campus?"
Her father laughed from his chair right next to her. He put his paper down with a grin. "What's the matter," he asked wryly, "Isn't Global Justice feeding my daughter well enough?"
"Never mind him, dear." her mother said, rinsing her hands off in the sink as she prepared to add the meat. "We're just glad to see you. We've hardly heard from you since you went off to college."
The motherly guilt was unmistakable and, as always, worked like a charm. "I've been busy." she explained with a touch of defensiveness. "But I'll try to get back home more often."
"Always glad to have you," her mother assured her with a kiss to her scalp before returning to her enormous stewpot. As an afterthought, she added, "And bring Ron along, too. We haven't heard from him at all."
"Yes," her father agreed cheerfully, "How is Ronald?"
Kim blanched at the name, swallowing hard. "Uh, yeah…Ron." she mumbled, sinking down into her seat.
Her father frowned and leaned forward. "Kimmie, is there something wrong?" His face fairly dripped with fatherly concern. "You can talk to us about anything, you know that."
"How do you know when you're in love?"
The blurted question exploded from Kim's lips, striking Mister-Doctor Possible with all the force of a cannon shell. He slumped back into his seat, looking as though the very essence had been drained from his body. He looked at her as if from a great distance, blinking rapidly. "Are we talking about the love a woman has for a fine chocolate?"
"No, dad." Kim said with a mixture of worry and annoyance. She wondered if it was her imagination, but she could have sworn that his hair was turning even grayer by the second.
"Great movie?"
"No, dad."
"Favorite spoon?" he asked hopefully.
"Dad!" she huffed, clutching at the hair near her temples. "It's a guy, okay?"
Mr. Possible blinked a moment more, considering the new information. The brilliant gears in his mind were twisting and turning, processing the best course of action in a horrific situation such as this. Finally, he chose the path that any great father would take in the same situation.
"Tag." he said to his wife, looking in her direction with a pleading expression.
She was drying her hands with a broad smile, as if she had already expected this. "Watch the stew, dear."
Her husband jumped obediently to his feet, moving towards dinner preparation with great gusto. Considering the alternative, it wasn't hard to imagine his enthusiasm. In the meantime, Mrs. Possible sat down next to her daughter, laying a hand on Kim's as comfortingly as she could.
"Why don't we start from the top, dear?" she suggested softly.
Taking a deep breath, Kim launched into a ten-minute version of the three weeks since moving out of Middleton: Drakken's incursion (which her father gladly added his two cents to, since he had been at the horrible ordeal), her first meeting with Will, 'their' first mission, her fight with Ron… By the time she was finished describing that awful night at The Fancy Truffle, she was nearly in tears again. She deliberately left out her awful dream in class, hoping to avoid another 'worried-mom' guilt trip.
Once her daughter's story was finished, Misses-Doctor Possible nodded appreciably. "That 'is' quite the situation, isn't it?"
"I don't know what to do anymore." Kim sighed, letting her head drop onto the cool wood of the tabletop. She buried her face in her arms, hoping to stem the fresh tide of tears that stung in her eyes. "Will's been great, but I totally don't know what to say, or do. And that Ron thing…"
"Well," her mother said slowly, rubbing Kim's back with a soft hand, "How do you feel about Will? Do you-"
"No!" Kim shot up indignantly. She calmed an instant later, getting hold of herself as quickly as she could. "I mean," she started again, this time more collectedly, "We just started working together. He's sweet and all, but…it's too soon to know anything like that."
"But there might be something." her mother sensed aloud.
"Yeah. Maybe. I dunno." Kim admitted sullenly. "He's smart, and cute, and dedicated, and…He's everything I could ever want in a guy. I dunno," she said again with a helpless shrug, "Maybe if I try, something will…click, or something."
Mrs. Possible smiled sweetly at this, confusing her daughter even further. "Honey," she said reluctantly, "I don't think anything ever just 'clicks' if you try hard enough. Either it does, or it doesn't."
"Well," Kim countered with a sniff, "How did you know Dad was the one for you?"
She leaned back into her chair, her grin growing as memories flooded through her mind. "Oh, that's easy." Mrs. Possible murmured, lacing her fingers together. She looked to her daughter, her eyes growing misty as she retreated further and further back in time. "You see, when I met your father, I was dating a young, wealthy, well-to-do student at Upperton…"
"Kenny Maddox." her father's voice piped in from across the kitchen, carrying with it just a hint of bitterness. "Layabout pretty boy, if you ask me."
"Oh, he was handsome," his wife nodded, recalling his hard, chiseled features with a warm smile. "And he made quite the boyfriend. There was this one time-"
"Ahem." Mr. Possible grunted softly, stirring the pot with an unusually loud clank of the wooden spoon.
"Anyway," her mother jumped ahead, "He wasn't the only one vying for my attention. There was another certain young scientist at the same grad school…he was good-natured and kind, if a bit clumsy at times." She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands as she stared dreamily at the man she had married. "He had a sweet smile, and we actually became quite good friends."
"So, that was when you knew you wanted to marry Dad?" Kim asked hopefully, wary of any more mush spilled her way.
"Oh, heavens no!" her mother shot up with a snort. "I was head-over-heels in love with Kenny-"
"Good-for-nothing playboy!" Mr. Possible added again, giving the stew another angry stir. His jaw was clenched unnaturally tight at the memory of his old rival.
"So what happened?" Kim asked in a hushed tone. Suddenly, the story had captured her interest. It wasn't every day a daughter found out her parents had actually been…well, not-parents at one time.
"Well, one night, a group of us went out for a night on the town. There was myself, Kenny, your father, and a few others from our respective fields. Anyway…" she continued, leaning in close.
Kim did the same, suddenly seeing her mother in a new light; it was as if she were Kim's age, gossiping about this and that boyfriend in hushed tones at a slumber party. The teen couldn't help but smile.
"…we all ended up at the park, sharing a couple bottles of…um," she suddenly turned scarlet, averting her eyes a moment. "Never mind the refreshments," she told Kim, whose smile had doubled. "We were sitting by the lake, when suddenly, Kenny stands up on this bench and announces that he has something very important he just 'had' to ask me."
"He didn't."
Mrs. Possible nodded excitedly as Mr. Possible grew even tenser. "He jumped down from the bench, landed on one knee in front of me, pulled out a little black velvet box, and asked me to marry him right then and there."
Kim blinked, taken aback. She had never known her parents' lives had been so…dramatic. She pictured them as the rather bland people she had known her entire life…though maybe that was just one aspect, and she had never noticed the rest. "What did you do?"
"Well," her mother said, "I was about to say yes, when something amazing happened." She stood from her seat, sauntering over to her husband with a sly smile as she said, "I caught your father's eye, and I saw…"
"What did you see?" Kim asked, unable to bear the wait. "What?"
She slipped her arms around her husband's waist, chasing away his insecurities with a kiss to his cheek. Turning back to her daughter, she said, "I saw my future."
"Your…future?" Kim asked. She hadn't been expecting such a cornball answer. It was kind of disappointing.
Nodding, she snuggled her head into Mr. Possible's neck, who gave her a kiss atop her head. "That's right. I saw my future right there in your father's eyes, and I knew then and there I couldn't say yes to Kenny. So I didn't. And six months later…" she shrugged, smiling at her beloved. "Well, you know the rest, I suppose."
"Future." Kim said again. It all seemed so ridiculous, like the sappy ending to a romantic comedy. She had a little trouble imagining herself seeing her future in anyone's eyes. "Oh-kay." Glancing at the kitchen clock, she cursed inwardly. "Oh man…" she moaned, rising to her feet. "I gotta get going."
"So soon?" her mother looked crushed.
"I'll visit again," Kim promised as she rushed over, kissing both her parents on the cheek before she rushed out the door. "Real soon, I promise!" she called back before the door swung shot.
Her father watched her leap into the black sedan GJ had provided her for city transportation and jet off at decidedly unsafe speeds. He sighed lightly as he shared another kiss with his wife, who was grinning mischievously. "You know, I distinctly recall a much different story," he said neutrally.
"Oh really?" she asked, playfully kissing the tip of his nose.
"For example," he began, unaffected by her feminine wiles, "I recall Maddox dating three other girls when he asked you to marry him."
"Mm-hmm." his wife cooed, settling her face into the nape of his neck again.
"I also recall a particularly vicious right hook when you found out." he added, lifting her limp right arm and jiggling the hand in front of her. "This one, if I'm not mistaken."
Patting him on the cheek, she gave him another quick kiss and said, "Well, Kim needed some encouragement. Besides," she added as she took over the stew duties once more, letting her husband return to his paper, "I think I like that version better. It has more drama, more pizzazz. Don't you think?"
He snorted, finding his place in the daily paper again as he said, "I think we have enough drama around here without inventing more."
A quick, black shadow darted onto their street, catching Mrs. Possible's eye through the window. With a happy expression, she watched her long lost pseudo-son pull into the driveway, carrying with him the rest of her family. Each of her sons had a helmet on, which she was grateful for, though it left the third with only his shaggy blonde hair to protect him. She wasn't too concerned; she knew that Ron would never let anything happen to them.
"Glad I made extra," she quipped to her husband as Ron and the boys walked into the kitchen, chattering excitedly. From the look of the smile on Ron's face, he was just as glad to be there as she was to have him. After all, a mother has to look out for 'all' of her flock, even after they leave the nest.
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The elevator doors parted for Kim as she reached her apartment floor. Her mother's words were ringing in her ears still, and in truth she felt more confused than ever. Sentimental tripe was all right when there weren't any crises to get in the way of pondering them, but she was too busy to try and solve her problems with mushy sappiness.
She was a little surprised to see Will already walking towards her, suited up in his uniform and looking serious as usual. Absently, she wondered if everything was all right. They were supposed to be working out together that night. "Hey," she greeted him with a smile she didn't really feel, "What's going on?"
He paused, giving her a genuine grin in return. "Sorry to cancel on you," he said, "But Doctor Director wants to meet with me immediately. I think it may have something to do with the Drakken situation."
Her face lit up at the prospect of something productive to do. "Wait a sec," she said, tugging at the bottom of her short, lime tank top, "I'll go get my suit."
Will seemed apologetic as he held up his hands. "No need. She's requested a private meeting."
"Oh." Kim sometimes forgot that she was a junior agent in GJ, not one of the tops like Will. She was going to have to get used to working her way up the totem pole, like she had as an independent when she first started out on her own.
'…except you weren't really on your own, were you?' her brain reminded her snidely.
"Don't worry," Will assured her. "I'll fill you in when I get back. It's probably nothing important."
"Sure," she heard herself say hollowly. "I can, uh, catch up on my homework." That was a blatant lie, of course; she always stayed three steps ahead on her homework, just in case a mission ever came up. It was an old habit that had served her well, but now it left her with nothing to do. She watched Will trot down the hallway, disappearing behind the elevator doors with one last wave and a wink at her, which she weakly returned. Then, with a heavy heart, she turned and entered her apartment.
The expansive, echoing walls that had seemed so inviting a few weeks ago now mocked her in silence as she walked through the door. It slid shut behind her with a hiss of finality, trapping her in the world she had wanted so badly.
Mechanically, Kim went to her refrigerator and began preparing a simple dinner, a tuna fish sandwich and a few vegetables. She spread the bland white goop onto her bland white bread without a sound, save for the disgusting glorp of the meat as it left the can. Pouring a glass of milk, she sat down at the counter and flipped on the tiny TV set next to her.
Images and sounds leapt out at her, filling the empty apartment with artificial company. Phony laugh tracks and howling commercials bounced uselessly against her eyes and ears, never fully penetrating the cloak of gloom she had draped around her slumped shoulders.
"Yeah," she sighed to her television, pushing away the plate of food. Her appetite had suddenly fled her anyway. "This sure is the life, huh? Nothing but excitement and adventure as a secret agent…"
The television answered her with commercial for a dating service. Disgusted, Kim flipped the treacherous device off and spent the rest of the evening in total silence. There were no books left to read, no shows left worth watching…and no friends left to call.
That night, sleep eluded her once more.
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[Ten points to the first reviewer who can properly identify the short story stolen…erm, 'utilized for inspiration' in the dream segment. Two bonus points if you can pronounce it properly (hint: the l's are silent)]