Disclaimer: I still don't own Kim Possible. The black ops mission failed; they were bribed with Disney World Gold Key packages, so much for taking the low bid.
Kim was impressed with Ron's control of his chair as they danced. She had been and still was concerned about him since the night it happened. He had lost Yori a month before, and had taken it hard. Ai was spending the night with her and Marcus. Ron had stopped into the convenience store to pay for his gas and get a drink. When the robbers came in the old hero mode kicked in also. Kim shuddered as she danced with the memory.
The shot was, luckily, not fatal; it had shattered a vertebrae and caused spinal cord damage. That was the longest night of Kim's life. Luckily the police had caught the two would be thieves instead of me, thought Kim. The pled out and would probably be on the street soon. Kim shook her head.
"What's the matter, KP?" Ron asked as the song ended.
"Just thinking, Ron."
"Don't do that to much, makes the head hurt."
"No problem with you suffering then," chuckled Kim.
"Yeah, yeah, keep it up and I will stay where I am."
"So you have decided to move back to headquarters?"
"Depending on what Ai says, yes."
"Thanks, Ron."
"No Cuddlebuddy bribes."
"Spoil sport."
They made their way back to the table and Kim sat down and let out a sigh. "Why didn't we ever make a go of a relationship?"
Ron looked at her, "We do have a relationship, KP."
Kim raised her eyebrow, "That is not what I meant, Ron."
"I know, KP, I know. By the way when you do the eyebrow thing you look like your dad."
Kim popped him on the arm, "Don't change the subject."
"Okay, okay. Well I think that modulator thing weirded us out some. Plus, I think we were both too scared to lose what we had. But in retrospect it was probably for the best. If you had someone that was romantically connected to you on a mission you wouldn't be able to focus. We both know that."
"I know, I know. It's just sometimes I kick myself for not…"
"You are not the only one, KP. I regret not pursuing it at times myself. But what are ya going to do?"
"Have a time machine built?"
"I know you, you wouldn't."
"True, but enough with that talk," Kim noticed Bonnie walking towards them. She no longer had her smooth gliding walk in high school. The beatings from her ex-husband had taken a toll on her; Kim remembered seeing her when she visited Ron in rehab, she had a full leg cast. "Someone is coming this way, and she looks like she is on the prowl for meat."
Ron's still fair skin turned crimson. "Have a seat for me, Mr. Stoppable?"
Ron turned around, "Yes I do, Ms. Rockwaller. It may not be comfortable, kind of 'lumpy' in the middle."
"Too much info Ron," Kim stood up, "If you will excuse me for a moment."
"You don't have to leave because of me, Kim."
"Its okay, Bonnie, I will be back. I need to get some air. I expect clothes to be back on by the time I get back though," she winked.
"That takes the fun out of it," fake pouted Bonnie.
"There are just some things that I would rather not see, and let's leave it at that."
Kim left the tableside and walked out the side door, and ducked around the corner. She pulled out a thin cigar and moistened it, then struck a match and lit it. Taking a long pull on it she banged the back of her head against the wall.
"Possible!" came a voice of past ghosts made flesh. Kim still flinched at the sound of the drill sergeant like tone.
"Yes, Mr. Barkin?"
"Are you smoking?"
"Yes, Sir, I am."
"Never thought I would see the day."
"Well, in the field it is real easy to pick up bad habits, and they are tough to get rid of them when you get back."
"You are talking to the choir on that one, Possible. Mind if I join you?"
"There is free wall space," Kim offered him a cigar. "They're Cuban."
"Don't mind if I do," said the elderly former soldier as he took one and lit it.
"Did you pick this up before or after graduation?"
Kim chuckled, "After, about six years ago actually."
"Well, at least it wasn't on my watch," he said then looked at her. "Did you pick up any more bad habits out there?"
"Besides cleaning my nails with a knife? No. My manicurist has fits about that one."
"That's good, Possible. I still worry about you and the life you lead. I have seen to many good people die in combat, lots of memory and baggage there."
"I know what you mean. It's hard. The letters are the worst part."
"I know. How do you tell someone's mother that there were just enough dental records to ID them," a tear formed in his eye as he shook his head.
"I'm with you on that one, Sir," she said looking at her cigar.
"Nothing to do about it now, though, just try and make sure it doesn't happen again. Thank you for the cigar, Possible. Keep up the good work."
"Thank you, Mr. Barkin. For everything."