Disclaimer: Me no ownie KP. K? K.

A Note From the Authoress: Thanks for all the awesome reviews! I'm sorry this has taken so long. I actually wrote the second two parts today . . . it was just a bunch of junk. I helped some friends with Cabaret Concert, One Act Festival, and the Choir Flea Market. And I had a party, and Monday I turned seventeen (just had to put that in, yes), and I had my AP Calc Exam on Tuesday . . . so I've been busy. But I know that's no excuse :dodges projectiles:

Okay, this chapter is major foreshadowing. And this chapter's longer! Now that we're getting into some semblance of a plot, expect longer chapters, and maybe quicker updates, if something doesn't come up. Oh, and yes, there are blizzards in, like, JUNE in Colorado. Believe me. I live there. ;)

Anissa: Are you one of Drakken's drones, too:backs away: Heehee, just kidding:huggle: Anissa!goo is different from Eric!goo, I suppose. ;)

Jezrianna2.0: Thank you so much! Good reviews from a writer like you a very honoured SarahLynn

Everyone else: I love you all::bows:


Chapter Two

"So," Ron said, "Bueno Nacho at six tomorrow?" Sitting on the Possibles' living room couch, he wrapped his arms more firmly about Kim, who was stretched out, taking up twice as much room as he, leaning against his chest, paying absolutely no attention to the movie he'd brought over (from the title, she could tell it had something to do with zombies and ninjas, not exactly romantic, but some things about Ron never changed). His fingers massaged and soothed her through the warm fabric of his jacket which he'd draped lovingly over her shoulders.

"Of course," she smiled, shifting in his arms to press closer against him. "Like always." She looked up at him with shiny emerald eyes, grinning mischievously. He smiled back at her, removing one hand from her back to touch the tip of her nose with one gentle finger. Giggling, she wrinkled her nose flirtingly.

"Hey, kids," Mrs. Dr. Possible chimed from the next room, having just arrived home from work. "Having fun?" She set her keys down on the table and approached the living room.

"Mhm," Kim murmured. She settled herself against Ron comfortably, but innocently enough, trying to turn her attention to the movie, but found turning his hand over within both of hers far more amusing than watching some space ninja fight off raging zombies.

Dr. Possible muffled a laugh. "Glad to hear it." She watched them for a moment, smiling. She'd always thought they belonged together, despite their differences. They'd been best friends forever, yes, but she knew that social pressure at school would keep Kim from ever seeing Ron in any other light than that of platonic love. She'd always hoped something like this would happen: that her daughter would give Ron a chance. That whole episode with the moodulator had been welcome, but obviously a bit . . . off. But this, this was real. She could see it in her daughter's eyes as he held her this way.

She suddenly felt acute loneliness; her own husband had taken their sons and Ron's pet naked mole rat, Rufus, camping for the night, leaving her and Kim to fend for themselves. She considered offering Ron to spend the night; she trusted him not to take advantage of her daughter, and she trusted Kim not to try anything of the sort. "Ron, why don't you call your parents and tell them you're spending the night?"

Their snuggling ceased immediately as those words fell from Mrs. Possible's mouth. They both sat up, staring at her open-mouthedly.

She stifled a giggle. "What? It's not like Ron hasn't stayed the night before."

Kim considered protesting, but soon dismissed the thought, realizing that most girls her age wished for such an opportunity. And it wasn't like they were going to do anything, anyways; it was just . . . that her mother trusted them that much. It was empowering in a way. She looked to Ron. He looked as if to protest as well, but seemed to have come to a similar conclusion. "Thanks, Mrs. Dr. P." he said, reaching around Kim for the phone.

"Sure thing, Ron," she replied, heading for the door to give them some privacy. "Anytime."

Kim stood as Ron dialed his number. She located the remote (which was quite a feat considering the mess that had resulted from their various tickle fights) and turned off the movie. It was late and she much preferred falling asleep in his arms to listening to the screams of the undead.

"Hey, Mom?" he said into the phone. "Yeah. Mrs. Possible invited me to spend the night . . . Mom! . . . MOM! . . . No, Kim and I will NOT be sleeping in the same bed." Kim giggled in response. "Okay, yeah. . . . Thanks, Mom. See ya in the morning. Bye." He pressed the 'off' button on the cordless phone and replaced it in its port on the table.

Kim sauntered toward him, settling herself in his arms. "You're awful presuming now, aren't you?" She grinned mischievously up at him.

"Why do you say that?" he asked, drawing her closer.

"I don't believe I ever consented to those sleeping arrangements."

"KIM!"

She burst out laughing, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Just kidding!" she sang. He shook his head sternly at her before beginning to chuckle as well. She beamed up at him, drawing closer. He smiled at her, dropping his head, tilting it slightly to the side, opening his mouth just so, as his hand came up to cup her cheek.

Beep beep beep-beep!

Kim sighed and dropped her head. She pulled the Kimmunicator out of her pocket.

Beep beep beep-beep!

"Hey, Wade. What's the sitch?"

"Hey, Kim. Bad ne . . ." he made a disgusted face. "Are you and Ron being all mushy again?"

Kim rolled her eyes and moved a bit away from Ron. "Wade . . ."

"Oh, yeah! Bad news. Looks like Drakken's up to no good again." He began typing excitedly and with a final flourish, a map was launched onto the screen of the Kimmunicator. "His new lair is in Egypt. You'd best leave now; it's going to be a long ride. We'll have to . . ."

"Wait," Kim interjected. "What's Drakken up to?"

Wade gave her an almost nervous look. "To tell you the truth, I don't even know."

"That's comforting," Kim murmured, more to herself than to Wade.

"There's odd activity in there. You need to go in and check it out, see what we're up against. I've got a ride set up for you. They'll be picking you up in fifteen minutes."

"Thanks, Wade."

"Wade out." The screen went black. Kim turned to where Ron was sitting, disgruntled, arms folded, behind her.

"What's wrong?" she said, frowning.

"Just had to crush my dreams," he grumbled. She giggled and pulled him to his feet. After all, they were saving the world in fifteen.


Kim swung around, throwing a round-kick in Shego's direction, only to be hurled backwards into the rough, carven limestone of the obelisk behind her by a flash of green energy. "Ron!" she cried. "Don't let Drakken get away!"

As if on cue, Drakken laboriously lifted the sheet-covered machine he'd apparently stolen or created to aid in his efforts in world conquest and placed it harshly in the free space of his hover-pod. Oddly enough, upon arriving, Drakken was not punching away on some overly complex console, nor was he tinkering away on his newest death ray, but waiting, a bit impatiently albeit but waiting nonetheless, for her arrival. Ron had been rather enthused about the mission, being the first mission in which the villain would remember his name. Unfortunately, Drakken seemed to have gone back to his old mindset, referring to Ron as the buffoon despite Ron's attempts at getting him to say his name. "You always STOP me!" he said, but Drakken proved too dense to catch the hint.

Whatever machine Drakken planned on using next had yet to be revealed, from the beginning tucked away in a corner, half hidden by crumbling statues. He'd not given his usual speech about how whatever mechanism he'd recently acquired would conquer the world in some obscure, implausible way. Shego had simply attacked her and done all in her power to keep her and Ron as far away from the contraption as possible. It was all so strange, Kim had thought, that Drakken would be breaking super villain canon in this way.

She was brought out of her thoughts by another hard blow from Shego, this time knocking her back against the legs of an enormous, now decapitated and one-armed statue. She saw a flash of blue fly from her pocket with the force of the hit. "The Kimmunicator!"

Drakken's hover-pod began sputtering, working hard under the additional weight, blowing sand everywhere. Kim dropped to the ground, burying her face in her sleeve to keep the sand out of her eyes. She crawled forward, feeling the rough, burning sand scratch at her bare forearms. Scrambling for the Kimmunicator, she heard Shego's voice: "Too hot for ya, Kimmie?" Where was the Kimmunicator? She needed Wade to get a heat signature from the machine, or send for a ride to wherever her foes were headed next, or something. They were in the middle of nowhere, and the Kimmunicator was their only link to the modern world. Where was it?

She felt something warm and hard, a screen, a button, another button . . . the Kimmunicator! She went to grab onto it when she saw the silhouette of a shoe come down and heard a loud, crunching sound, followed by several sparks of electricity which only confirmed her worst fears: they were lost in the desert.

"You think you're all that, Kim Possible, but you're not!" came the requisite line from Drakken. The flying sand began to slow down, and she knew they'd gotten away.

She heard a familiar voice. "KP? KP, are you okay?" There was a hand on her back, attempting to comfort her in some way. Ron . . . She sat up, difficult as it was, brushing the sand and chunks of limestone from her person, sighing.

"Hey, Ron," she said, pulling the wrist of her glove to let the sand escape. At least Ron was okay; that was the most important thing. True, she'd always worried about him on missions, but now with the change in their relationship, his safety suddenly took on new levels of importance. "Drakken stepped on the Ki . . ." she trailed off, seeing the Kimmunicator, still crushed underneath the shoe, Ron's shoe. "RON!"

"Wha-wha-what?" he replied defensively, backing up a few paces, arms up as if threatened by a gunman. No, this was worse than any lousy old gun; this was a very angry Kim Possible.

"Ron," she fumed, "You stepped on the Kimmunicator!" She picked up the crunched and cracked device, punching uselessly at the buttons. "You broke it!"

"Kim," he soothed, kneeling beside her. "Wade'll just make a new one. A better one! So not the drama, as you'd say."

She glared up at him. "Ron. We're stranded. In the desert. Miles from civilization. With no Kimmunicator. This is so definitely the drama!" She sighed dejectedly, clasping her hands in her lap. "I guess we'll just have to sit here and wait, and hope that someone passes by, or Wade sends help."

Thinking to lighten the mood, and to give them a little enjoyment while they were stuck there, Ron wrapped his arm around her waist, grinning. "Well, while we're just sitting here waiting . . ." He leaned in, using his other hand to tilt her chin up to him.

She pulled away harshly. "Not now, Ron." She stood up, brushing the sand from her cargo pants, and walked away. He looked after her, not entirely sure whether or not he should go after her. He'd never considered this as a problem to them dating; it seemed too perfect for anything like that. Of course, they'd argued before, but never under these circumstances. He knew they had their differences, and one of these days, one might come up, but he never realized how badly it would hurt.


Kim Possible sighed, pulling Pandaroo tightly to her breast. She hated fighting with Ron, now more than ever. It was a silly thing to argue over, too, but at the time it was important. No, it just seemed important. Wade had already sent over another Kimmunicator, and everything was status quo in the mission department, but she and Ron had not uttered a word to one another since she'd pulled away from him, back there in the desert.

It was almost four in the morning now, and, usually, she'd be waking up in an hour and a half to get ready for school. Lucky for them, school had been canceled due to the freak blizzard that had attacked Middleton a few hours prior. Stupid Colorado weather, she thought. Gazing out her window, she saw the snow coming down rapidly, gathering against the glass. Like faeries, she mused.

She shivered inwardly, considering the man asleep on her living room couch. A man? It was often silly to consider Ron a man, when he was such a child at heart. Nevertheless, when he held her in his arms, when he kissed her, she couldn't think of any being on the planet that deserved the title more than he. She sighed presently, burying her face in the time and love-worn fur of her Pandaroo.

Pandaroo. She'd never told anyone else that she still slept with him; nobody else except Ron. He actually considered it extremely cute, he'd once told her. She smiled slightly. Good old Ron . . . he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, nor was he the most poised or 'hunky' boy at their school, and she couldn't deny that he messed up sometimes . . . most of the time, but he'd always make it up to her. His mistakes were rarely anything other than harmless, and he'd saved her life countless times . . .

She felt so guilty about treating him like that . . . he seemed so hurt. She'd expected him to make some remark when they returned to her house . . . perhaps like "Sure was nice of you to help that man fix his cart as he came by." She'd have replied with something along the lines of "He was our only way home!" No . . . that was still too sharp. Why did she have to be so harsh toward him? Maybe it was better to stay here, to avoid him, to ignore him all the more. She still had Pandaroo, didn't she? He'd never leave her . . .

But Ron hadn't left her! She'd left him . . . and for what? A silly argument; no, worse: a silly argument brought on by an honest mistake, by an accident.

She made up her mind. Resolutely, she gathered Pandaroo up in her arms and crept silently down to the living room. In the dim light provided by the street lamp outside the window, she could see that Ron was having his own problems sleeping, rattled by thoughts of his own. There he lay, looking off into space, unseeing, a frown creasing his brow, his blanket shoved aside. He hadn't noticed her, or perhaps he was that upset with her he'd rather ignore her.

I can do anything. She gathered up all of her courage and called softly, "Ron?"

Broken from his reverie, he looked to find Kim, barefoot and pajama clad, holding Pandaroo tightly to her chest, looking as if she were near tears. Precious as it was, his worry pushed all other thoughts aside. "KP?" he whispered. "What's wrong?"

Before he knew it, she'd thrown herself into his arms, burying her face in his shoulder, Pandaroo lying forgotten on the floor. "I'm sorry, Ron," she breathed, "I'm so sorry . . ."

He held her close, stroking her disheveled, auburn locks. "Don't apologize, Kim. It's not your fault. I should be apologizing."

"No, Ron, don't say that. It was me." She pressed her face into his neck, breathing almost shakily against him.

"Let's just drop it, KP. We don't want to fight about fighting, now do we?" he said, pulling her back enough so she could see the big, goofy grin on his face. She laughed softly before yawning and burrowing further into his embrace. "Come on, bedtime." He reached over her and picked up Pandaroo from his place on the floor, settling the plushie securely within Kim's arms. Pulling the blanket over all three of them, he cradled her in his arms. "Goodnight, KP."

He felt her shift in his arms. "Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you," she whispered, barely audible.

He smiled and, kissing the back of her neck, returned the whisper, "I love you, too."


Please read and review!