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.
John Steppenwolf: It's all a matter of Mrs. Stoppable's point of view. Like most people, she's self centered, and looks at the world entirely from her own perspective, rarely if ever bothering to consider what others think. One of the tenants of Judaism (as I understand it, not being a Jew myself) is that 'jewishness' (for want of a better term) is passed down matrilineally. If Ron's wife isn't a Jew, his children won't be either, and that's important to her. Thus, the question of Kim converting.
Ron followed Kim up the stairs and into her room. He was more than a little nervous. So much so that he'd had trouble eating the breakfast Mrs. Dr. Possible had set in front of him with a smile not long after he and Kim had walked into the Possible kitchen. Not too much trouble, but a little. Then he noticed the way Kim's backside swayed as she climbed the stairs, and all thoughts of food vanished from his mind.
Entering Kim's room, Ron gazing around it while Kim closed the door behind them. It was tidy. Not fastidiously so, but there seemed to be a place for everything, and everything was in its place, from the books on their shelves, to the clothes and shoes in her closet, to the photographs on the walls. Most of those were of Kim and her family, with a scattering of friends and more distant relatives. His eyes settled on the picture on her dresser, one of several of the two of them.
"Hey, I remember that!" Ron exclaimed softly. "The county fair last year."
"It's a nice one, isn't it?" Kim asked, moving up beside him and putting an arm around his waist.. "Do you see how we're looking at each other?"
Ron put his own arm around Kim's shoulders. "I do look pleased with myself, don't I?" He grinned at Kim, who grinned back. "Of course, I did have the most beautiful girl in the whole world sitting on my lap, so..." He let his voice trail off. Kim was blushing a little, but she smiled too. He kissed her, and felt her melt into his arms as she kissed him back.
"I love you, K. P." he whispered when they broke it off.
"I'll never get tired of hearing you say that," Kim confessed with a delighted smile. "I love you, Ronald Stoppable," she added formally. Her face and voice went serious. "Now, what's this not bad thing we need to talk about?" She pulled away from him and sat down on the edge of her bed, gesturing for Ron to join her. When he had done so, Ron swallowed nervously.
"Well, you see, this idea popped into my head last night, and I can't stop thinking about it. I figure if I let it out, well, you know..." Kim took his hands and squeezed gently.
"I know," she smiled patiently. "So what is this idea?"
"Well, I was wondering, you know, what your thoughts were on, concerning, uh, the institution of, uh." He hesitated, his nervousness pain. "Marriage," he said suddenly.
Kim's eyes widened and her jaw sagged. She looked stunned.
"You. You want to. To marry me?" She stumbled over the words.
"That not a...bad thing, is it?" Ron jested feebly.
Kim gave him a stricken look. "No!" she clarified. "No, its a wonderful thing. It's just-"
"Too soon?" Ron finished for her. Kim nodded. It was Ron's turn to look stricken.
"I'm sorry," Kim whimpered, "I'm so sorry. It's just, with loving you, and that other thing, there's no room in my head for thinking about, about...being your wife." Even as her voice stabbed at him, the last word out of her mouth lifted Ron's spirits, somehow.
"Being your wife would be, will be, a wonderful thing," Kim went on, softly, "And part of me wants to say 'yes' this very second, but I want it to be a decision, not an emotional reaction. OK?" The words were almost pleading.
Ron smiled reassuringly. "Ok." The words weren't even a lie. "Like I said, I just needed to say it to get the idea out of my head." Kim sagged with relief.
"You're going to say 'yes' then?" Ron asked, a bit teasingly.
"As if any other answer was possible." Kim let herself fall back on the bed and giggled. "I've thought about it before, you know." Ron quirked an eyebrow at her. Kim giggled a again. "Last week, Monique caught me writing out my married name: Kimberly Anne Stoppable." Ron's heart lurched. "That has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" she asked gently.
Ron laid down next to Kim, propping himself up on one arm so he could look down at her.
"Very nice," he nodded. "Speaking of rings, is it all right if I start saving up for one?"
"Yes," Kim said, her voice firm, her eyes sparkling. "I want an emerald or a sapphire."
"No diamond?"
"Diamonds are so conventional," Kim mocked playfully. "Besides," she added quietly, "A sapphire would match your eyes and remind me of you every time I looked at it."
Ron grinned and reached out, lightly touching Kim's forehead with a fingertip.
"And an emerald would match yours," he commented absently, moving his fingertip along her brow ridge, then tracing down her nose. She grinned too, when he crossed her lips, and went to a full fledged smile as his finger glided over her chin and along her jaw line. The fingertip seemed to move of its own volition, down her throat to the little hollow at the base of her neck where her collarbones joined. Ron's hand moved on, following the collarbone toward the shoulder, stopped, hesitated, went south. Ron was staring into Kim's eyes and saw them half close as his finger reached the gentle slope of her breast. He heard a sharp intake of breath as the finger began climbing. Kim stiffened, arched her back slightly, raised herself into his touch. Ron's heart was hammering in his chest, and he had forgotten to breathe. His finger reached the peak, and circled slowly. Was that a nipple starting to poke up through the fabric of her shirt? He flicked at the small bump.
Kim moaned.
Ron's finger came down from the mountain. A brief frown flickered across Kim's face, vanishing as the finger moved down her stomach, across the waistline of her sweatpants, toward... Ron stopped.
"I shouldn't have done that," he said shakily.
Kim answered by taking his hand and, quite deliberately, placing it on her breast, covering it with her own.
"I don't mind," she said, very softly.
Ron squeezed, gently. How could he not? Kim smiled, and he about died.
"I know," he choked, "But I've gone and got myself worked up and-" He gave her an eager glance. "Have you..?"
Kim's face fell. "No," she said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, but I haven't quite..."
Ron drew his hand back. "I understand."
"Soon, I promise," Kim said, half pleading. Ron smiled.
"I know. I don't mind waiting a while longer."
"I'm sorry," Kim said, her eyes glistening. Ron leaned down and kissed her.
"It's all right," he assured her. "I should go now, though."
"Go?"
"I have to cool down," he explained. He glanced out the window. The day had darkened, and it had begun raining. "Walking home in this weather should do the trick."
"Later though..?" Kim asked hopefully.
"Lunch at Bueno Nacho?" Ron offered.
"Works for me," Kim replied, much more cheerfully.
Kim looked down from her window and watched him walk away. She imagined she could still feel the warmth of his hand, where he had touched her. She sighed. 'He touched me. And it felt wonderful.' Kim put an hand to her breast, pretending it was Ron's. She inhaled deeply. 'And that's not all he was going to touch,' she reminded herself. In her mind's eye she saw Ron's hand slide beneath the waistband of her sweats, into her panties, touch her...penetrate her. Kim moaned again, as a tingle of pleasure shot up her spine.
"I should..." she said quietly, moving a hand toward her pants. She stopped, eyed Ron's retreating back. 'No. I'll wait. Save the energy for later.' She chuckled. "While Ron takes his figurative cold shower, I'd better take a literal one."
