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.
Thanks to: Thalia-Sandy, Ace Lannigan, outlawarcher, continental-line, captainkodak1, WWLAOS, Triaxx2, John Steppenwolf, jamesstutz, Classic Cowboy, gargoylesama, Bluebee, MtnRon, Bob the dancing flea, Vince Stevens, fanjimmy, mattb3671, Intrepidwarriors, Firpi, lia200304 and CritPerson1.
Note: Just to remind you, this story is rated 'R' for sexual references and situations. If such things offend you, well, don't say I didn't warn you. I believe this chapter conforms to the rating and to FanFiction rules. If you feel otherwise, please let me know.
Kim woke up to darkness. No surprise there. The cold was nothing new, either. Even with the stove going full blast, the cabin was cold. There was, after all, a limit to how much fuel they could shove into the firebox at any one time without hindering the combustion process. Speaking of fuel...
Kim crawled over Ron, who didn't quite wake up, and got out of the bed. A quick check revealed that the fire had burned down to coals again. Beside the stove was a rack of fireplace tools. Taking up a rake designed especially for the purpose, Kim stirred the coals. The bottom of the firebox was a fine meshed grate. The stirring caused accumulated ash to fall to the bottom of the combustion chamber, which made for better air flow. The coals flared and brightened immediately. Kim put two more pieces of wood on top of the coals and closed the door. Opening another door directly beneath the first, Kim took up a small shovel and scooped out what ash there was, depositing it in a nearby bucket.
That task complete, Kim headed into the back room. Driven by necessity, she and Ron had taken a large stock pot and, with the aid of a few boards converted it to another use.
'I'm just glad there was some toilet paper here,' Kim mused as she attended to matters. When she was done she covered the pot and put it back outside. 'I will be sooo glad to get back to the resort. I need a shower. A nice, long, hot shower.' A proper meal would be nice, too. No reflection on Ron and his efforts: she knew he felt the same way. What they had to eat was adequate to sustain life, but that was about it. The memory of their most recent meal came unbidden to Kim's mind. Ron, scraping the bottom of the barrel, had soaked what was left of a box of stale corn flakes in water, shaped the resulting mass into cakes, and baked them on top of the stove. They'd been hot and filling, but aside from that...
Shuddering, Kim return to the bed. Ron was mumbling and moving slightly as she climbed over him and took refuge beneath the blankets. Kim regarded him with a curious eye. He was either dreaming, or on the edge of waking up. Kim watched in silence until Ron settled into stillness, breathing the slow, steady breaths of a man asleep. A handsome man, at that. Oh, to be sure, Ron wasn't a hottie. Nor was he possessed of rugged good looks. He had an average face. A pleasant, boyish face that lit up whenever he was excited, which was often. Kim felt a gentle smile touch her lips as she gazed at him. It was quite disarming. Back in the day, when Ron would screw something up, and she'd start chewing him up, Ron would grin that happy, goofy grin of his, and her anger would melt away. Even now, on the occasions when they would argue about something, Ron could dissipate her ire with a mere contrite look if he followed it with that smile of his.
Kim surprised herself by reaching out to touch him, stopping her hand just short of his cheek. It wasn't that she was about to touch him that made her hesitate. They were always doing that. It was why she was reaching out that caught her off guard. She wasn't doing it to convey affection, or any other emotion. It was self gratification. She just wanted to feel him, to enjoy the sensation of running her fingers over his skin. Her hand drew back, started forward again. Almost against her conscious will Kim's fingers brushed Ron's forehead. He stirred, but didn't wake. Her hand moved, slowly. Ron's skin was oily. He hadn't bathed in three days. She didn't care. Her fingers glided down the side of his face, across his cheekbone. She felt the stubble of his beard as she traced his jaw. Lightly, very lightly, she felt her way down his neck, traced a collarbone out to one of his broad, strong shoulders, then headed back the way she had come.
Kim felt a twinge. It started between her legs and went rocketing up her spine.
'Oh no,' she thought, even as the shiver of pleasure the twinge spawned when it reached her brain caused her to gasp slightly.
'I need to stop this,' she told herself, even as her fingers continued their gentle exploration. Ron shifted again and made a sound that might have been a sigh, or a groan. Whatever it was, it triggered another, stronger twinge. An image sprang into Kim's head. She tried to suppress it, which only made things worse. She shifted her position slightly. It was a mistake. The movement stimulated a sensitive portion of her anatomy, making things much worse. Kim jerked her hand away from Ron's face and laid down, holding herself rigid, desperately trying to get control of her body.
'I cannot be fantasizing about sex with Ron,' she grated to herself. 'I can't. It's too weird.' So why was she getting so aroused by the notion? She pondered, briefly, the notion of a trip to the other room to relieve her 'tension'.
'No,' she said to herself, shaking her head. 'Ron would hear.' He would, too. She knew herself well enough to realize that. No matter how much she tried, she wouldn't be able to restrain her enthusiasm. Ron would hear. He would come to investigate and find her with her pants down, her fingers busy. He would stare in shock, while she blushed in embarrassment. Then...
The image exploded in Kim's brain, of Ron crossing to her, replacing her fingers with his own...
Oh!
Kim felt moisture between her thighs. In a last ditch effort to calm herself, Kim called to mind the most disgusting thing she could imagine, sex-wise.
'Drakken in the buff,' she told herself. It was like a bucket of ice water. Her heat subsided quickly. Soon it was gone completely. When she was calm enough, Kim closed her eyes and went back to sleep.
Ron woke up when Kim got out of the bed. He didn't say anything, and tried to ignore the sound of her using their improvised chamber pot. He was drifting back toward sleep when she returned. Again, he said nothing. He felt her shift beside him, and knew, somehow, that she was looking at him. There was another shift, and he felt a presence near his face. Ron thought about opening his eyes, but decided not to.
Kim's fingertips touched his face. Ron wasn't able to completely hide his reaction to her touch, but tried to make it look like he was still asleep. Apparently he succeeded, because the touch continued. He heard Kim's breathing pattern change, and knew instinctively that she was becoming aroused. The knowledge cause him to become aroused.
Instantly.
He hoped she wouldn't notice. It was dark enough that she might not. But did he really hope she wouldn't notice?
No.
Ron found that he very much wanted her to notice, wanted her to take matters in hand, as it were, and...
Her hand left his face.
He felt her lie down, and knew she was struggling to control herself.
'I should say something,' Ron said to himself. 'I should roll over and kiss her. Take her, right now. She'd let me, I know she would, and it would be so good...'
'And then what, Horn-dog?' the voice inside his head asked sarcastically. 'What happens in the morning, when you realize that you fucked your best friend, and that you can't take it back?'
'With Kim it wouldn't be fucking,' Ron protested. 'It would be making love.'
'Whatever. Still, what happens?' the voice demanded. 'Do you pretend it never happened? Never speak of it again? Is your friendship worth a moment of physical pleasure?'
Doubt came to the forefront of Ron's thoughts. What about after? Were the consequences really worth it? Would they feel the same way after? Or would they regret it? What about George, Kim's boyfriend? What about his own girlfriend?
It wasn't worth it, he decided finally. If gratification was all he wanted, he could go out back and spank it. Kim deserved better than that. She was better than that. Ron wouldn't reduce her to a mere object, to a receptacle for his needs.
Resolutely, Ron drove thoughts of sex from his mind, replacing them with an image of the sea.
'Calm, blue thoughts,' he told himself. 'Cool blue ocean.' He repeated the phrases until they blanketed his consciousness and shepherded him to sleep.
