It was an icy January night. Kim, Ron, both of their mothers, Rufus, and Monique were gathered in the Possibles' kitchen.
When Kim told her mom about the engagement, the reaction had been this:
"Kimmie, I'm so happy for you. It seems like just yesterday we were sending you to PreK and now (Mrs. P got teary-eyed) my little girl is all grown up."
"Mom, don't cry! I mean, you knew this would happen someday."
Too late. The floodgate had been opened.
"I didn't think someday would be so soon," the elder Possible sniffled. "Oh well, I guess this is best for you and Ron. Kimmie, I'm going to tell you something I have never told you about before."
"You are?"
"Yes, I am. When I got engaged to your father, we didn't have much. Money was tight and your Nana didn't exactly approve of me, either."
"She didn't?" This was news to Kim's ears.
"No. She thought women should be willing to stay at home and raise a family, not out doing brain surgery."
The younger raised her eyebrows. "Says the NAVY Seal?"
"Yeah, she warmed up to me long before we had you. Anyway, my wedding was a bit smaller than I would have liked it to be. The church wasn't quite what I imagined, and the dress- well, it didn't matter. I had James and he was the single most important thing from that day forward, until you kids came along."
Kim was getting a little bored with the speech. Her mom noticed and got straight to the point.
"As I walked down to that altar, I made a silent vow Kimmie. I promised myself that if I ever had a daughter, she would have the biggest, most spectacular wedding celebration possible."
This was nowhere near what she and Ron had in mind.
"That was before we honeymooned in Las Vegas and won a couple of mil- enough to get the science lab running, and for the house. But I still wished you could have a large event."
"Actually, Mom, we were thinking of a small-"
"And now that that dream can come true," Mrs. P was lost in nostalgia. "You've made me a very happy mother, Kim."
"Right, happy," Kim said resignedly. "A big wedding."
Flash forward to the kitchen again:
Monique finished her list of factors to be considered for the event.
"How's it look?" Kim asked as if she was giving the diagnosis for a particularly nasty disease.
"Not good," the fashionable woman answered darkly.
"Between location, transportation, decoration, not to mention the newlywed vacation-"
"That's a lot of 'ations'" Ron commented. Rufus nodded in agreement.
"Plus food, clothes, services, music, and a million other things- I don't know how we're going to plan all of this!" Monique looked ready to pull her hair out.
"Calm down," Mrs. P soothed, thrusting a mug of cocoa at her to occupy her hands (just in case).
"Maybe we should hire a wedding planner," Mrs. Stoppable said thoughtfully.
"That's a great idea, Mrs. Stoppable!" The younger redhead said.
"Please, Kim, we're going to be family. You don't have to call me Mrs. Stoppable anymore."
That presented a problem: what exactly would she call her? Calling two people 'Mom' would be weird and confusing. On the other hand, Kim realized she did not even know Mrs. Stoppable's first name. It was Samantha or Sandy or something like that.
An awkward silence followed. It was broken by a sharp knock at the door.
"I'll get it!" All five people volunteered.
Kim shrugged. "We can all go together."
And so they did.
On the other side of the door stood a tall, bony woman wearing heavy makeup, a leopard printed blouse, and a miniskirt that matched. Overall, she gave the appearance of one trying to looking younger and failing miserably.
"Hello!" She greeted in a high-pitched, singsong voice meant for the opera.
"Um, aren't you a little old to be selling Pixie Muffins?" Ron asked, opening the door.
She laughed. It was a fake chiming noise, the kind they use on Broadway.
"Rebecca Biggins, at your service."
They stared blankly.
"I'm a wedding planner," she stated simply. Rebecca put a spider-veined hand on Kim's shoulder.
"And you, my dear, are in need of my great talents!"
The hero stared blankly. "How did dear! Can't an old lady like me stay current with the latest blogs?"
Kim, who did not know the engagement had been posted for the world to see, decided to have a little talk with Wade about running her website.
"Uh, Miss Biggins-"
"No, call me Becky, dear. Call me Becky Biggins. Everyone in my support group does."
"O-kay, this lady is officially creeping me out," Ron muttered under his breath.
Before anyone could do say anything more, Becky Biggins threw her hands up and screamed melodramatically.
"Sweet Kosher pickles! What on earth is that monstrosity?" She pointed to the floor.
Everyone turned around, half-expecting a giant monster, and saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Suddenly, Ron understood.
"Oh, you mean Rufus. He's not a monster, he's a naked mole rat!"
"A naked what-what?"
"Mole rat," he explained patiently.
Becky Biggins looked thoroughly disgusted. "Whatever. Just keep that thing away from me."
She turned back to Kim. "Miss Possible, we have a lot of work to do if we're going to make this wedding the social event of the season."
Kim tried to protest. It was like her tongue had gone numb in frustration.
"But fear not, my dear," the strange woman continued. "I assure you this is going to be fun, fun, fun!"
Ron's mother tried a different approach. "Ms, er, Becky-"
"Becky Biggins, dear!"
"Yes, Becky Biggins, would you mind if we could have a private moment to ourselves?"
"Go right ahead, dear!" The intruder said, but did not move a muscle.
Monique took matters into her own hands.
"Becky Biggins, dear, let me show you the Possible family's charming back yard." She put her arm around the woman's shoulders and steered her outside. Kim shot her an appreciative look.
Mrs. Possible stuck out her hand authoritatively. "Family-to-family meeting, living room, now!"
In the living room:
Mrs. Dr. P paced relentlessly. Kim had no idea what was going on, and Ron sat on the sofa unconcernedly.
Mrs. Stoppable looked anxious to share something. "There's something you should know," she said glumly.
The others granted her permission to go on.
"It all started back in my high school days. Back then at Upperton High, Becky Biggins was basically the biggest loser around."
"No surprise," Ron interjected.
"One day, I was sitting at my usual lunch table with some of the more popular teens. We were talking and laughing over how badly the Lowerton Lemurs played- I was a cheerleader, you know-"
"You were a cheerleader?" Kim was beginning to realize how little she knew about her future mother-in-law.
"Oh yeah," Mrs. P supplied. "Both of us were on the Varsity squad. We became friends during basketball games."
"Now we know where I got my Mad Dog moves from!" the blonde boy added.
"Anyway, it was an ordinary day until I choked on a potato chip. My friends hadn't paid much attention in health class, so nobody knew what to do. My face was turning blue and the next thing I knew, Becky was dislodging that potato chip with expertise. She saved my life."
"So you've met this woman before and you owe her a favor?" Kim asked grimly.
"Well," Mrs. Stoppable said slowly. "Becky had a tendency of being overdramatic. That's why nobody liked her. I asked her if I could return the favor in some way- thinking more along the lines of buying her a soda or something- and she refused at first. Then she got this crazy notion of becoming a wedding planner and had me promise that my first child would be her client if they got married." She ended the story with an unhappy facial expression, knowing that high school had come back to haunt her.
"No way!" Ron cried out incredulously. "That kind of stuff doesn't happen in real life. It's like that stupid fairytale with the ugly elf guy."
"Rumplestiltskin?" Kim offered.
"That's the one! What are we going to do?"
Mrs. Possible tried to be optimistic. "Honestly, she can't be that bad. We desperately need a planner, remember? We'll just see how she works out."
It took a lot of hinting to finally get Becky to leave, after painstakingly convincing her that Kim would consult her soon.
Monique went after that, promising to stick with Kim and Ron through the planning process.
Then Mrs. Stoppable went. She was followed by Ron, who had 75 voicemail messages from his employees. That's what it took to be the president of Bueno Nacho Industries, after all.
Mrs. Possible convinced her daughter to stay for dinner rather than returning to her condo on the other side of town in the bitter cold.
Dinner was the infamous brain loaf. It was still a big hit at the neurosurgeons' annual potluck.
"How was your day, Kimmie-cub?" Mr. Possible asked, taking a bite of his wife's concoction.
"It was…acceptable. We stopped Duff Killigan from covering the Statue of Liberty in grass this morning." Kim thought better of mentioning anything matrimonial. Her father always had problems adjusting to the fact that his daughter was grown up.
"Where are the Tweebs, by the way?"
Mrs. Possible went white in the face at this question.
James Possible chuckled. "Jim and Tim are out with two of their friends. Should be home any minute."
"Since when do the Tweebs have friends?" Kim gulped down a piece of brain loaf.
"Oh, these are very special friends," her dad answered.
Mrs. P gripped her fork tightly. "The boys don't need special friends. They're too young!" she insisted.
Kim looked at her mother, mystified.
"Honey, they are going off to college in the fall. I think it's good for them."
Their daughter could no longer take the suspense.
"Who are these special friends Mom's freaking out over?" she demanded.
"I am not freaking!" Mrs. Possible said in a freaking sort of way.
The others ignored this.
"Their names are Kallie and Hallie. That's all I'm saying." Mr. P backed up the statement by shoveling a huge forkful into his mouth.
Suddenly, four teenagers came bursting through the door.
Kim's jaw dropped at the scene:
Jim and Tim, considerably more grown up than they used to be, entered the house with two girls. The females looked somewhat alike, with sun-streaked golden hair, blue eyes, and bronze tans.
As much as Kim (and her mother) hated to think it, they seemed to look like the twins' girlfriends.
"Hey, big sister!" Tim said cheerfully, pulling her out of her trancelike state.
"Or should we say little sister," Jim corrected boldly. Kim was now four or five inches shorter than them.
At Jim's comment, one of the blonde girls giggled adoringly.
Kim was not sure whether to roll her eyes or hurl. Mrs. P's right hand, which was holding a bread knife, shook uncontrollably. Mr. Possible looked highly amused.
"Well then," Jim noticed his mother's mad state and jerked his arm away from the taller girl's waist. "I guess I'll see you later, Hallie!"
Kim was still having trouble adjusting to seeing the Tweebs- who used to detest cooties- with any form of girls, let alone two who looked like they had been ripped from a Hollister advertisement. How in the world did this happen?
"Don't forget to bring the J 200 rocket fuel tomorrow, Timmy," the girl named Kallie said in a flirty tone. "I'll be counting the minutes!"
So that explained it. The girls were techno geeks like her brothers. Very pretty techno geeks.
Tim blushed crimson until the girls waved goodbye and were gone.
"Gotta go!" They said in unison like the good old days.
"ACT exams tomorrow," Jim explained.
"We want to see if you can get a score higher than perfect," his twin finished. They ran upstairs.
James Timothy shook his head lightheartedly. "Those two are a handful these days."
A vile and revolting image swam into Kim's head. It was too awful for words. If you absolutely must know, the image was of Jim and Tim- her formerly little brothers- kissing the blonde girls. Ewwww!
At least her mother recovered when the boys left. "Oh, I forgot to tell you!" she exclaimed.
"James, you got an email from your old friend, Professor Ramesh."
"Is there another scientists convention coming up?"
"No, it was about…" Mrs. Possible bit her lip, debating whether her husband would fly off the handle.
"About Kimmie and Ron," she finished smoothly.
"What about them?" Mr. P asked, nonplussed.
"Well, he figured we hadn't set a date yet, and he thought they might like to consult a long lost relative of his. I think her name is Madam Bonita." She made it a point to avoid saying the word wedding.
Kim could hear Ron's voice in her head: "Madam Bonita? Sounds like a kooky fortune teller."
"Ramesh says the woman helps people choose dates for…special occasions and supposedly her word brings good luck."
Mr. P snorted. "I highly doubt some fortune cookie is going to bring anyone luck!"
"I know what you mean, Hon. But it would mean a lot to Professor Ramesh. He is the reason we met, after all."
"Actually, setting us up was Drew Lipsky's idea."
Kim had a sudden realization. Drew Lipsky had caused her parents to meet. She would have not been born if it wasn't for Drakken! She would tell him this in their next encounter; Drakken would have fits over this one for ages.
"Why don't we let Kim decide?" Her mother finalized.
"That's a spankin' idea!" Mr. P said with feeling.
"Uh, Dad? Nobody says spankin' anymore." She couldn't help smiling.
But smiling would be the last thing she would be doing the following morning…
I hiked you up the cliff and left you hanging! How evil of me! Fear not, ferret-y friends, the Fearless Ferret stalks the night! Okay so maybe he doesn't, but I will update soon and that's better than a ferret, right? (This is where you nod your head and pretend to be listening.)