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.

Ron parked his scooter in front of the Possible home and looked at his watch. Five fifty-three. Seven minutes early. He shrugged nervously. It had taken most of his will power to wait as long as he had, and even then he'd had to drive around the neighborhood four times.

"Eh, better early than late," he reminded himself.

He paused at the front door, debating whether to ring the bell, or just walk right in. His hesitation lasted right up until he remembered what had happened the last time he rang the doorbell. "Yeek!" he shuddered. That encounter, with a giddy Mrs. Dr. Possible and a grim Mr. Dr. Possible, had pegged the weird meter, and while in retrospect it was touching, it wasn't something he cared to go through again.

He was through the door and halfway to the living room when Mrs. Dr. Possible came barreling out of the kitchen on an intercept vector, her arms spread wide.

"Ronald!" she exclaimed, enveloping him in a crushing hug. "I'm just thrilled you and Kimmy are going on another date!" Ron hesitantly returned the embrace. He hadn't thought anything could surpass last time, but Kim's mom seemed determined to try. She held him out at arms length, gazing at him with unnerving affection, when he heard Mr. Dr. Possible's voice.

"Ronald." Where his wife was over-the-top thrilled, Kim's dad was severe, fixing Ron with a cool glare. Ron gulped.

"Black hole deep?" he stammered. Mr. Dr. Possible nodded once. 'Great, no pressure,' Ron thought sarcastically.

"Mom? Dad? Is that Ron?" Kim's voice floated down from her room.

"Yes, it is," Mrs. Dr. Possible called.

There was the sound of a flurry of activity.

"I'm almost ready," was followed seconds later by, "I'm coming down." Footsteps hammered in the hall and then Kim bounded down the stairs, taking the steps three at a time. She paused at the bottom to compose herself, and looked at Ron.

His heart caught in his throat.

She was so beautiful.

The little black dress he hadn't known she owned was gone, tucked away in her closet no doubt. Faded blue jeans and a sweatshirt that read 'Property of Middleton High School Cheerleading Squad' did service in its place. Good service, too. Especially the jeans, which were pleasantly snug in all the right places. Kim smiled shyly, then did a slow three-sixty so he could get a better look.

"You like?" she asked, a mischievous yet pleased grin on her face.


He was so handsome.

He didn't look any different, course. His outfit was familiar: baggy pants and a football jersey over a long sleeved tee-shirt. His physique hadn't changed. He was still skinny and a bit gangly and awkward. It was just that now Kim was seeing the details she had never paid attention to before, or seeing them in a new light. Like the unruly shock of blond hair that he never seemed to be able to do anything with. Or the spray of freckles across his nose. Or the goofy grin that was always so quick to light up his face. Her eyes lingered on that face, dropped briefly to his wonderfully strong, delightfully gentle arms, then rose to meet his gaze. It was a look of pure adoration, and it made her heart race. She turned slowly, letting him drink in every detail, feasting on his expression.

"You like?" she asked, delighted.

"You look...amazing!" Ron said, after a long pause to find the right word. Kim's blush deepened slightly, but her smile widened.

"You're looking good yourself," she commented approvingly, crossing to where he stood. "Home by ten, Dad?" she asked her father. Mr. Dr. Possible's stern expression eased. "Since it's Friday, midnight will do," he said, smiling slightly. Then the frown returned, and he turned to Ron. "And not one second later!"

"No problem, Mr. Dr. P." Ron promised.

Kim settled herself on the saddle of Ron's scooter while he started the engine and made the few necessary preparations for getting under way. Her hands were on his hips, and there was a slight gap between them. Kim pondered that briefly. A sly smile crossed her face as inspiration struck. She moved forward so her front was pressed snugly against Ron's back and cinched her arms around his waist. She felt Ron tense up. Then he inhaled deeply, sighed (happily, Kim thought) and relaxed. After a moment he turned and looked back at her.

"All secure back there?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"I don't think I'm going anywhere," Kim assured him, squeezing him briefly.

"Good." Ron returned his attention to the road, put the scooter in gear, and they drove off.

Bueno Nacho was a new experience. At least for Kim it was. For Ron too, she was sure, if she read his body language right. They had, of course, eaten at Bueno Nacho hundreds, maybe thousands of times. But that had been as 'just friends'. Now Kim felt like everyone in the place was staring at them. Every gaze that swept over them seemed to halt and linger for a moment, as if the onlooker were judging them. 'It's my imagination,' Kim told herself as she and Ron stood in line to order. 'The only thing different about this trip to BN is that Ron has his arm around me.' Well, that wasn't quite accurate. Ron's had put his hand on Kim's waist, but in the course of moving up in line the hand had drifted down a bit, to settle on her hip. Now it moved again, just a bit aft, and Kim's eyes widened suddenly. 'Ron's going to put his hand on my butt!' She turned her head slightly, to hide her expression of surprise, and grinned. 'That sneaky bastard!' On a lark Kim turned slightly, moving more of her posterior under Ron's palm. The hand suddenly moved up, and Kim pouted in disappointment as Ron tucked his thumb through one of her belt loops.

"Sorry about that," he apologized, his face red. Kim said nothing, just gave him a reassuring smile before sliding closer to him. Ron's hand was secure upon her hip. She sighed contentedly. That would have to do. For now.