Seven
The Beginning
A Kim Possible fiction
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Kim Possible or any of its characters, locations, episodes, catchphrases, et cetera, et cetera… Not that re-stating the obvious isn't great fun, but nothing has changed in the last couple days to grant me ownership and nothing will in the days following, so I'm just not going to bother with this anymore.
Author's Notes: Ah, the second chapter. Something of a milestone... A virtual landmark showing that I haven't completely bombed off the scene yet. Rather uplifting, isn't it? grins Anyway, being as it seems to be standard operating procedure, allow me to heap much thanks on my faithful (faithful? It's only been one chapter) reviewers, most notably, The needy stranger and captainkodak1, and Toast, of course, for being my first reviewer. Yeah, I do realize that it's not the most original plot line in the world, but I should probably point out that So Little Time is just my hook. And, being as this is my first fanfic, I wanted to start small... Work my way up to the insanity that festers behind every coherent sentence.
I'd also like to take this opportunity to point out that no, this is not, in fact, a death fiction as some seem to believe. There'll be some angst, but you shouldn't be crying into your cola. A goodly chunk of this story is going to be more normal life (something along the lines of Ayotte's Equal Romance masterpiece), or, at least it will be until I work my way back up to chapter one. And, finally, if you hadn't guessed it from the title already, this is the chronological beginning of the story. So Little Time happens time-wise about half-way through. I'm writing this from the whole "flashback to the beginning of this god-awful mess" angle that you see in a lot of movies. I'd also like to apologize a little bit for So Little Time. I re-read it (like, fifteen or sixteen bloody times, even) and it just came across a little... forced. This is because I had written it originally, but then I changed the whole direction I wanted the story to go, and being as I didn't want to waste it all (and I really liked the whole Dam scene when it played out in my head), I just sort of beat it into submission and slapped it up there.
I know that this isn't a whole lot of story for the three or four days it took to slap up, but I've got a chronic problem with procrastination. I've even been know to put off putting off doing something. The whole point of this is that if ever there's a time when your infinite patience is fed up with my inherent laziness; feel free to call me on it. My e-mail's in my profile, so any time a week has gone by with no explanations from me, go ahead and fire away. I'd also appreciate some e-mails if any of you guys have any questions or tips on writing... This is already the most involved project I've ever tried, and I'm a total amateur at this author's game anyway, so tips'd be greatly appreciated. Anyway, without any further adieu, I present to you the second chapter, Seven: The Beginning.
Yeah, this wasn't looking good. As if the steady drip coming from his water plastered hair wasn't enough, there wasn't enough dry fabric within twenty yards in any direction to mop the persistent moisture from his face. Ron Stoppable wiped at his face with a cold, clammy hand anyway and muttered under his breath. The worst part about the whole situation is that normally he even liked the rain, but this wasn't even rain, it was just constant, dripping, foggy misery. A small pink shape scrambled out of his pocket and scurried up to perch on his shoulder, muttering his own opinion of the horrible weather. Ron reached up and scratched his friend on the head with one finger. "Yeah, I know Rufus, but we'll be at Kim's place in a couple of minutes and you can wring yourself out there." The mole rat, apparently satisfied, sighed and slipped its way back down Ron's clothes back into his pocket to look for something to munch on.
They continued to trudge through the gloomy morning, heads bent low against the grey, arms pulled in tight beneath a sodden jacket. The morning held but one hope for them, a shining outpost of heaven, their oasis, their Medina, their Promised Land if you will. And that place was the modest, two-story home of the Possible family. It hung before them, a tantalizing mirage that spoke of warmth, food, and, most of all, a respite from the wretched misty drizzle that had plagued them since stepping foot from Ron's house ten minutes before. The strange pair rounded the corner and they came within sight of their goal. Sitting serenely, windows blazing incandescence against the gloom stood the house, their refuge lay a scant two blocks away. Ok, maybe he was laying it on a bit thick, what with all the havens and promised lands and such, but Ron always was prone to the old melodrama. Either way, five minutes was all that lay between him and an end to this accursed morning. His pace picked up a bit, and there was even the slightest hinting of a spring in his step at the thought of the warm cup of coffee, the soft towel, and, most especially of all – though he'd admit it to no one – the fiery, red-headed cheerleader that was the central aspect of his life.
He crossed the last intervening road between him and his goal, and the rising purr of an engine coming down the street behind should have warned him that his day was about to take a turn for the worse, if that was even at all possible. But being soaked to the skin, cold, and tired from a late night, all Ron could focus on was the last fifty yards of sidewalk that would carry him to Kim's door. The engine suddenly took on a much louder, more aggressive growl as someone put their foot down, and there was a swish of tires as the car swerved towards the sidewalk. Ron whirled at the noises, alarm spread across his features and he caught a single fleeting glimpse of a head of brown hair and that immortal smirking sneer before the veritable tsunami of muddy rainwater the maneuver had caused to explode out of the gutters enveloped him in its cold embrace.
He stood there, blinking, stretched out on the balls of his feet, arms extended to his sides, about to leap back to safety as the wave washed over him. He held the position for a few moments, unwilling to move as dirty liquid streamed from his arms, legs, face and clothes. Not even Barkin can make this day any worse. His breath hissed out from between clenched teeth and he clenched his fists as he turned, shook himself, and resumed squishing his way towards the house.
Kimberly Ann Possible jumped up from where she'd been sitting on the couch when the doorbell chimed its insistence that someone stood waiting on the porch. She heard her mother call out from the kitchen as she walked quickly over to the door "That'll be Ron, Kimmy, better let him in." She clicked the lock off the door, turned the handle and hauled back, letting the door swing wide into the room. Her greeting died on her lips, her eyes widened, and an eyebrow arched in question at the sight that stood before her.
"Hey Ron – Jeez, what happened to you!"
The blond senior scowled as he stepped through the doorway, muddy trails sketched across his face as the water ran down out of his hair. "Unfortunately for us, Smarty Mart has yet to release a line of Rockwaller-proof clothing." He stripped off his jacket and dropped it on the mat with a look of disgust. Kim's eyes hardened at the mention of Bonnie, and the lines of her face sharpened almost unnoticeably, well, unless you had known here since pre-school and practically lived in the same house with her.
"Maybe I should have a little chat with Bon Bon after school today..."
"And cause more problems for you? Nah, don't worry about it KP, it's no big." He shrugged and mopped at his dirty face with one hand. "You wouldn't happen to have a towel or something, would you? I'm a little soggy to be wandering all over your house."
Kim blinked, her fantasies of holy vengeance wrought upon the person of Bonnie Rockwaller ended and locked back away for safe keeping. "Oh, uh, yeah, sure Ron, just a sec." She turned and walked off to scrounge up a towel for her disheveled best friend.
Ron leaned back against the door and grabbed Rufus out of his pocket. The rodent glanced around and cheered when he saw that they had reached the safety of Kim's house. He scrambled his way up to Ron's shoulder, gnawing away at a piece of candy he'd dug up. Kim's mom stuck her head out of the kitchen to offer a greeting, with much the same results as Kim had had. "Hello there, Ron – My, what happened? Are you all right?"
He flashed her one of his trademark goofy grins and shrugged. "Got in a fight with a puddle... Turned out like most of my fights do, so I guess I'm lucky to still be able to walk away." She laughed as he winked knowingly at her.
"Well, Kimmy will be right back with a towel for you and Rufus, and you've got a few minutes, so would you like something? There's a fresh pot of coffee and some pancakes and eggs left from breakfast. I can fix you a plate in just a minute."
Rufus' eyes got very wide and he started jumping up and down on Ron's shoulder. Ron grinned and nodded, "I can't say no to Mrs. Dr. P's cooking, well, at least not with Rufus right here. That'd be great." He took a step forward but stopped and glanced down sheepishly as his wet sneaker squeaked as he left the door mat. Dr. Possible smiled and waved him back onto the rug.
"Take your shoes off, Ron, and dry off. Kim should be right back and I don't really want you tracking water all through the house." She turned and went back into the kitchen as Kim came down the hallway and tossed a pair of towels to Ron. He smiled his thanks and began attacking the soaking mess of himself with a vengeance. A few minutes of wringing and toweling had stopped the most obvious streams of water, at least, and he pronounced himself adequate enough to pop into the kitchen for a minute. He looked down at his jacket, or more specifically the puddle of water that was still leeching out of it, opened the door and tossed it out onto the porch. It really wasn't of any use to him in that condition, anyway, and he'd rather just skip the trouble.
He padded into the kitchen and eyed the heaping platter of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon that Mrs. Possible set on the counter, and the quart of steaming coffee she poured into a heavy mug. "There you go, Ron, eat up. I've got to go – I have a triple bi-cranial reduction scheduled in half an hour. You kids have fun at school." Ron groaned at that and the pair of Possibles rolled their eyes, chuckling. The boys tore into the stacks of pancakes with a furious clanking of cutlery on porcelain. Four minutes and seventeen seconds later, nothing remained of the feast, except for the half mug of coffee Ron was in the process of downing. Kim just shook her head and slipped out to gather her things. Ron chugged the rest of the brew down, tossing the dirty dishes in the sink as he raced to catch up with his best friend as she grabbed a long trench coat from the closet and headed out the door.
She nodded towards the jacket tossed carelessly to the side. "Aren't you going to be needing that?"
He held out his arm and shrugged as he was still dripping. "I really don't see it helping much, KP. Let's just get this over with. The sooner this day ends the happier I'll be." Nevertheless, he still hunched his shoulders up tight as they stepped out from under the roof's overhang and out into the dismal morning. Kim shot him a questioning glance, then shrugged and continued walking. Ron knew what he was doing... Well, ok, maybe not, but she hoped Ron knew what he was doing. The horrid weather even damped down on Ron's incessant chattering, and so they soldiered on in silence.
The two heroes turned the corner and slipped in mute suffering down the sidewalk towards their objective, the site where the "greatest years of their lives" were frittered away. Middleton High School. Oh how Ron despised it's sterile, institutionalized halls. If there wasn't some thick-skulled, hulking pseudo-gorilla jock shoving him into lockers, there was a stuck-up, arrogant, insufferable cheerleader sneering down a pert little nose at him. Even the normal students thought he was a joke – Hell, he'd even been jibbed by the science club before. And then there was him. As if the humiliation meted out by his peers and his own painful mishaps wasn't enough, Steve Barkin was always there to haunt him. A jack-of-all-trades substitute teacher, he ruled with an iron fist and a heavy-handed detention policy. Weeks of Ron's life had been bled away from him for the most innocuous little misdemeanors. So what if he'd accidentally knocked that beaker into the Bunsen burner... It wasn't as if the explosions or the fire had hurt anyone, and the chemistry lab had only taken two weeks to rebuild. Or that thing with the... Ron shivered – well, no, perhaps it was best not to think of that little incident... Out of sight and out of mind and all that. Even Ron knew when it wasn't wise to push one's luck.
Kim surreptitiously studied her best friend out of the corner of one deep green eye. His deep brown eyes bored into the concrete exactly five feet in front of him, seeming to stare through the physical matter and into the spaces beyond, lost deep in thought. A slight frown creased his forehead as one corner of his mouth twitched downward, a look of concentration etched on his features. She, of course, knew of the pains that school caused him, but she was captain of the cheer squad, the cream of the social elite crop – such pains were as alien to her as the rings of Saturn. She saw him shiver again, but he never swept his gaze from the concrete. He looked completely miserable, and her lips twitched in a wan little smile and she shook her head. What in the world would Ron Stoppable do without her? "Ron." His name rolled off her lips softly, the deadening effect of the morning allowing for only quiet noise. He didn't look up from his silent brooding, seeming not to have heard. "Ron." She called again, putting a little more force into the word so that he'd notice. Hey blond sidekick blinked a few times and looked up, a slightly quizzical expression on his face as he turned to her.
"What's up KP?" He absently rubbed at his arms, trying to instill a little warmth back into the aching limbs. She rolled her eyes and stopped, forcing him to halt as well. He turned completely about to face her, one eyebrow slightly raised. "What's wrong, Kim?"
She took one dainty hand, extended her index finger and pointed sharply at the ground, about a foot in front of her. "Come here." He walked over and stopped a few feet away, protecting her personal space, arms still rubbing together for warmth. She crooked her finger and pointed at the ground again. "Come here, Ron." He hesitantly stepped up to the auburn heroine, one hand moving up to rub the back of his neck in his own personal nervous tic.
"Uh... Wh... Err, what's the problem, KP?" Her closeness sent a flush of warmth shooting through him, an immediate benefit that she knew nothing about. The rush grew as she leaned in closer to him, gently grasping the raised arm and pulling it down.
"Ron, look at you. You're soaking wet and freezing... You'll catch pneumonia before we get within a block of the school." She pulled free the belt of her trench coat and slipped it off her shoulders. "C'mere already, we don't want to be late." She leaned into him and settled one shoulder of the trench coat across his shoulder, and pulled the other across their backs and around her shoulder, warding them both against the damp and chill. She snuggled in closer to him for a bit of extra warmth. "There, much better, don't you think? We'll have to hurry or we're going to be late for Biology." The pair walked off into the mist of a suddenly much friendlier morning.
