Disclaimer: I don't own Kim Possible, but truly who owns anything?
Ron let the warm water wash over his body. He sighed as he thought over the last forty eight hours. Seems like Bon-Bon has made a very good breakthrough and she really likes me. Life is looking up now. He felt the tensions in his shoulders relax some. His thoughts drifted to Bonnie. I wonder what she is doing now. Probably soaping up her body and rinsing… Okay different line of thought, please, and a little more cold water in the shower. Why does she have this effect on me? No one else has, not even Kim or Zita. Ron, I think you are going to have to admit it. You are in Love, capital L.
Bonnie smiled as the water ran over her body, I can't believe that I admitted that to him. I have NEVER told anyone that. The scary thing is that I do. All of a sudden it is all clear. She let her head touch the wall of the shower so the water would run down her back. Now what do I do? This is so sudden, but I have known him for five years. Though most of that time I was putting him down, because he wasn't my idea of perfection. This could have happened so long ago. Then maybe he wouldn't have all of those scars and bruises. Water from her eyes mixed with the water from the faucet. "I have been such an idiot."
Ron got out of the shower and began to dry off. He remembered that he had left his bag in the living room. He was appreciative of the large, fluffy towels that were provided in the guest bath. He wrapped one around his waist and quickly moved to the living room to get his bag. He was able to retrieve it and make it back to the bedroom with out encountering Bonnie. I am so glad that I didn't run into Bonnie; I don't know if I could resist if I saw her in a towel also. Ron sat on the floor in the lotus position and did a couple of breathing exercises. "You have to keep control of yourself, Ron."
Bonnie looked at herself in the mirror as she massaged lotion into her skin. She looked critically at her body, the areas that the fashions were not kind stuck out in her mind. Ron likes my body and I think it looks good. So, why am I obsessed at trying to look like I am out of a magazine? Bonnie sighed and stretched her arms, causing her shoulders to pop. She arose from her chair and went to her closet, "What to wear, what to wear?"
Ron finished dressing by buckling his belt. He looked in the mirror and had to admit that he did look good in the outfit that Bonnie had picked out. "Who knows, maybe I will start dressing up a little more," he thought as ZZ Tops Sharp Dressed Man played in his head.
Bonnie spun in front of her mirror and admired the red sundress. "Maybe complimentary outfits are a bit premature, but I would like to think not," she murmured as she left her room and headed for the guest room. She turned down the hall just in time to see Ron emerge from the room. She paused taking in the transformed person in front of her. Ron looked magnificent in his outfit. She smiled and spun for him.
He smiled back at her, smiled not grinned, Bonnie noted. "So what do you think?" Bonnie asked as their arm enveloped each other.
"When I think you can't be more beautiful, you prove me wrong, yet again."
She blushed a shade or two, "Thank you, Ron-Ron. You look very handsome."
His blush was more than hers, "Thanks, um, I was thinking. Do you think maybe you could help me some more on what to wear? You know so I don't embarrass you?"
"You couldn't embarrass me. But if you would like, I would be honored to help you. You don't think Kim and Monique would get mad because I did what they couldn't?"
"I don't think that they would care as long as some one did it."
The two moved as one as they leaned in to kiss each other softly. As they reluctantly broke the kiss Bonnie spoke up, "We should probably go, though it would be nice to stay here."
"I know, but it would probably be safer if we went. Maybe next weekend I could cook for you."
"Four star brunch in my own home? I could get used to that idea. Just keep it quiet to my mom or you will wind up catering for her and her friends."
"They couldn't afford me."
"Really, whys that?"
"Because I would ask for enough to cover taking you out to the best places in town, in style might I add."
"They would probably give it to you also. You are that good, Ron. When you were running the cafeteria, you had business men doing power lunches there." Ron looked at her with a blank face. "You didn't know? Yes, Ron, you could probably walk into pretty much any restaurant in town and start to work right away on your reputation alone."
"Wow, I didn't realize," he said looking off in an obvious day dream.
"Bon-Bon to Ron-Ron, let's go. I thought you wanted to go into psychology."
He followed her at a distance so he could watch her walk. "I do, but I never thought I could actually make a living cooking. I like psychology, but cooking… It is creation; it is taking the raw materials of nature and guiding them with your will and skill to form them into masterpieces."
"You sound like an artist," she said setting the alarm and heading out the door.
"There isn't much difference in the two if you take cooking to the right level. After awhile it becomes all abstraction and vision. Presentation is very important. When I was in the class room I could concentrate on that, but when I was put in control of the cafeteria the presentation was lost. I guess that was the worst of it."
"You sound like Josh."
"Don't mention him please; it kills the mood."
"You still don't like him. Why?"
"When Kim first started to gush over him, I got this bad feeling that he was going to hurt her. I can't convince her of this. All I can do is to try and remain close so it won't hurt her so much."
"We will be close, Ron-Ron," she said as she slid into the sports car.
"Thanks, and Bon-Bon?" he said leaning over to her. "I want you to know that I Love You too."
Authors Notes: This story is becoming MUCH longer than I originally conceived. Not that I mind, I am enjoying writing this. Thank you all for the reviews and support you have given me. I planned on updating my Ron/Kara story last night 1/11/2005, but the chapter is taking a little longer to get the dialog down right. It seems that I write better on days that I go to work and stress out. All good writing comes from conflict, or something like that is how the saying goes, I think.
