Kim Possible and all related characters and indicia are owned by the Disney Corporation. This work of fan fiction is written for pleasure, not profit.
'Ah, I feel much better now,' Ron thought as he emerged, much relaxed, from the men's room. His thoughts flicked briefly to the website he had found, the one full of synonyms. 'I just fired the surgeon general,' he giggled to himself. His thoughts turned to Isa and her long, beautiful legs. He quickly became so entranced that he almost ran over the person standing in the middle of the short hallway that lead from the dining room to the restrooms.
"I thought it was you," Kim said by way of greeting. Her arms were folded across her chest and an expression of...well, while certainly firm, was neither angry nor hurt.
Ron fought rising panic and an urge to flee. He cursed his own carelessness. In his rush to get to the rest rooms he had taken the direct route through the dining room, instead of the more circuitous route through the storeroom, on the assumption that Kim would be so entranced with Josh that she wouldn't notice what was going on around her, let alone what was happening halfway across the dining room. 'That's another bet I lose,' Ron thought bitterly. Harnessing his anger with himself, Ron quashed his panic.
"So what are you doing here, Ron?" Panic flared again, briefly, as Ron considered, then rejected, the idea of lying. He might weasel his way out of this, but the odds were against it (in no small part because Kim could read him like a book). And, he reflected, while the truth might sting in the short term, in the long term it was always the best course of action.
"I'm spying for your father."
Kim relaxed. "Oh, well that's ok the...WHAT?" She hissed the last, her expression turning incredulous, then angry.
"I'm spying for your father," he repeated, much more calmly than he felt. "It's the only way he'd let you have this particular date with Josh."
Red hair was supposed to be indicative of a fiery temper, and Kim was no exception. She looked like she was getting ready to explode. "I can't BELIEVE Dad would be so underhanded that he'd dragoon you into..." She stopped suddenly, as Ron held up a hand...
"It wasn't your Dad's idea K.P., it was mine."
"Yours?" Kim was still angry, and her anger was shifting targets; but now there was a bit of confusion mixed in with it.
"I went to your house to ask your Mom if you'd been dropping any hints about birthday presents; I was drawing a blank," Ron confessed, blushing a little. "I overheard them talking about your date. Your Dad was...uncomfortable with the idea." Kim nodded slowly. That much, it seemed, she could agree with. "So I barged in and...talked you Dad into letting you go." Kim was staring at him, her eyes wide. "He balked at first, but after I offered to 'keep an eye on things' he relented."
"And just what," Kim said, her voice flat and dangerous," are you supposed to 'keep an eye on'?"
"What time you leave the restaurant; I wouldn't agree to anything more."
"I still can't believe Dad doesn't trust me enough..." Ron raised his hand again. Kim gave him an icy glare, but said nothing.
"You could look at it that way," Ron agreed, "or," he suggested, "you could say that your Dad overcame his reservations and let you have the one thing you really wanted, at no more cost than having the world's most easily distracted spy let him know what time you left the restaurant." Ron gave Kim a steady look. "And it's not like you two weren't going to head right back to your house afterward anyway, right?"
The ice gave way to thoughtfulness. "I suppose so," Kim mused, "but still, why would you suggest something like that? I thought you didn't like Josh?"
Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Why does everybody always look at it that way?" he groused. He sighed, then looked at Kim. "I didn't do this for Josh. I did it for you." Kim's expression softened. "Happy sixteenth birthday, Kim," he said quietly.
Kim's eyes began to glisten, and her lower lip started to tremble. Suddenly she stepped forward and threw her arms around him, embracing him fiercely. Ron's arms went around her in a gentle hug. She was shaking, and though her face was buried in his chest, Ron knew that she was crying.
After a few moments Kim looked up at him. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but Ron knew somehow that they were happy tears. Wordlessly, he produced a handkerchief. Kim accepted it with a smile. She wiped away the tears, then blew her nose. As Ron tucked the kerchief back into his pocket, Kim laid a hand on his cheek.
"Ron, this is the best birthday present anyone has ever given me. Thank you." With that, she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him. Ron's face flamed scarlet, for Kim hadn't kissed him on the cheek, but directly on the lips. There wasn't anything to do but return it, so he did. After a few moments they pulled back. "Well," Ron said, a little awkwardly, "I'm glad you liked it. Now, I think your date might be starting to wonder what's keeping you. I'd hate for him to get the wrong idea," he added with a sly smile. It was Kim's turn to blush. "I suppose he is," she stammered, but she smiled at him and gave him another quick kiss, thankfully on the cheek this time. She started back toward the dining room, paused, and turned back. "You're the best," she mouthed silently. She gave him another fond smile, and was gone.
Ron leaned against the hallway wall and smiled. He didn't try to analyze what had happened, just basked in the glow of Kim's happiness. "Ron old boy, I think you hit that one out of the ballpark," he congratulated himself. He heard footsteps. 'Time to get back to the kitchen,' he said to himself. He ducked through a door labeled 'Staff Only' into the restaurant's storeroom. His thoughts turned to a certain long-legged, buxom brunette. "I have to pay her back for that 'make my fantasies come true' crack," Ron resolved, a wicked grin crossing his face. "I wonder how she'll react when I tell her the age of consent in this state is sixteen."
