Disclaimer: I don't own KP or NaNoWriMo. Boohoo.

A Note from the Authoress: Yup, you heard right. This is my NaNoWriMo submission for 2005. If you aren't aware what NaNo is, go to and find out! But basically, it's writing a 50,000 word novel during the month of November. So the idea is word count word count word count, but it really does help to improve writing style, as weird as that is. So, I'm warning you: this is NOT my best writing. But I really like the plot of this story, so maybe you can read and review and tell me what you'd like to see revised? I'll do that in December.

Also, this is an AU . . . you'll see. I'll leave it at that.

Enjoy!

Over the Hills and Far Away

Chapter One

Ron Stoppable stared blankly at the monitor before him. It was a Monday morning, something even the most dedicated workaholic would dread, if anything for the fact the coffee always tasted stale, and the way the dragging of co-workers' feet always managed to drill into one's brain with the conviction of the most annoying song. And to top it all off, his computer had just crashed. One moment, the most recent stock rankings, and the next, nothing. No, nothing but the reflection of a youthful face and blonde hair. The bridge of his nose was dusted with little freckles, and the beginnings of worry lines were beginning to creep their way into his expression.

Yes, that was right, Ron Stoppable, CEO of Bueno Nacho Corp. was young. No, not only young; he was the youngest member of the 'BN Team' to make it to a corporate level. At 25, he was one of the richest men in the world, owned various estates around the globe, and yet, he'd still never married. Actually, he'd never even been kissed, let alone been in a serious relationship.

After all, he was a bit of a goof. He'd managed to chug his way through business school at an alarmingly fast rate, mostly on his odd but irresistible charm. He was never really one for school, and, after nearly being forced to become a super senior in high school, he realized that the harder he worked, the sooner he'd be out of the torture commonly referred to as school. Because he didn't have many friends, he really had no other choice but to spend all his time on school work in college. It was funny really, the guys that made fun of him in high school now worked at the Middleton Bueno Nacho, meanwhile, he was in charge of the entire change.

He truly loved irony.

Sighing, he punched the on switch of his computer. Nothing. Yup, this was most certainly a Monday. Why else would things be going this poorly?

"Hey, Ron," came the dull voice from the door of his office.

Josh Mankey . . . Mankey was young, Ron's age, actually, and his knack for commercial art had brought him all the way to Bueno Nacho Corp. The young man was so talented, in fact, that Ron insisted on working with him on the same level. They had different views on things, surely, but with Ron's passion for cheap Mexican fast food, and Josh's talent for selling things through art, the company had had even greater success than before.

It was true that they need not work so much together, but it had become such a habit that they couldn't really help it. They'd begun working together about a month prior, and had since become wonderful friends, well, as far as Ron's friends went. He was sure Josh was the kind that, in high school, had myriads of girls hanging all over him, and that he knew the greater part of his graduating class. Ron, on the other hand, had been laughed at by most of his classmates, and was always the one who wasn't able to contribute any naughty stories in the locker room before gym class. And it was a fair judgment, too. After all, Josh was the type who, although not 'built', was muscular, with a face that shone of both tenderness and masculinity and could have any girl he wanted. Utterly perfect dirty blonde hair was styled in a way that was considered fashionable in high school, but it seemed to fit him in the timeless way Ron's unkempt do did for him.

"Hey, Josh," Ron groaned, kicking his computer in frustration.

"Technology getting the better of ya?" Josh smiled, sitting in the chair across from his boss.

"Unfortunately, yes," Ron grinned a bit, although he did not know why, and began loosening his tie. He never really got used to the starched clothing. "Anyways," he began. "How are you?"

Josh chuckled a bit, "Fine, but the wife's out of a job again."

Ron's expression was truly sympathetic. "What does she do again?" He was instantly sorting through a stack of papers, seemingly nonchalantly, but, always ready to help, he was looking for any glaring holes in the payroll.

Josh smiled. "Oh, we knew it was going to happen. She does consulting work, most recently for NASA."

Ron looked up at him, a bit in awe. "Really? NASA?"

His companion nodded, the pride in his eyes evident.

"Impressive," Ron said, setting the papers down. "So she got anything new coming up?"

Josh shrugged. "I can't even keep up with her. She's got so many patents going right now, I've taken to smiling and nodding, you know?"

Ron laughed a bit, although he was fairly certain that's not how a man should treat his wife. But, after all, he was the one who was lacking in the romance department, not Josh. "She's certainly a catch," he commented.

Josh grinned and nodded dumbly.

Although Ron was smiling, he couldn't help but feel that pang of jealousy deep in the pit of his stomach. There it burned and swelled, reaching up and out, encompassing his entire being. Josh was both everything he admired and everything he loathed; so perfect it made his teeth clench and his fists tighten. He had it all: the looks, the personality, the girl . . . but Ron was the boss, one of the wealthiest men in the world. And, after all, Josh was the closest thing he'd ever had to a true friend . . .

. . . and he realized that was just plain pathetic.

Ron cleared his throat, quickly changing the subject. "So, the ad campaign went rather well. Your ideas really are superb." He pressed his fingertips together, leaning back in his chair, taking on an authoritative air.

Josh raised an eyebrow at Ron's sudden change in demeanor. "Thank you . . . Ron. Or should I call you 'sir'?" Josh offered a nervous smile.

Ron sighed, rubbing at his eye with the heel of his hand. "Hey, sorry, man, didn't know what came over me."

"Nah, it's okay," Josh said with that all too perfect smile. No, it wasn't that sort of smile that you'd grow suspicious over, only a joyful, friendly gesture, but too ideal just the same. When Ron didn't respond, Josh leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "You look really stressed."

Ron stopped his incessant rubbing and opened his eyes, staring at Josh. "You have absolutely no idea."

Josh chuckled a bit, considering offering the two should go out for a night on the town or something, 'hanging out' as they'd both call it in their teenage years. Instead, he decided to get to the root of the problem. "Any particular client?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "This guy in England. Lord Fish or something."

Snickering at Ron's obvious mispronunciation of the gentleman's name, Josh pressed on. "What's his problem?"

"Something about an opposition to cheap Mexican fast food in his region."

Josh's brow furrowed. "If there's been so much opposition, then haven't sales been low anyways?"

Ron placed his palms on the desk before him. "That's the problem: there is no opposition except him."

The other man raised an eyebrow. "Then why is it such a big deal? I mean, couldn't he just, I don't know, not eat there? And why do you have to do something about it anyways?"

Ron heaved a sigh. "He's a Lord, Josh. The last thing we need is British nobility on our backs." He punched angrily at the power button on his computer again with a grumble of 'damn machine' or something of the like. "What's even weirder was his explanation. I think I misheard him, but he said the restaurant was a bad influence on his monkey ninjas or something."

Josh snickered. "Monkey ninjas?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, only slightly weird." He looked around uneasily, looking for some new conversation topic that would satisfy them both.

Ron's phone rang. He smiled apologetically at Josh, and pressed the button from the intercom. Emerging from the little device was a scratchy voice, the kind with that sort of nasal quality that evoked the image of a thirty year old man still going through puberty. "Ron?" it squawked.

"Yes, Ned?" Ron answered politely.

"Is Mr. Mankey in there with you? It's muy importante he meets with Susan ASAP."

Upon hearing this, Josh began gathering his belongings. He truly was an artist at heart, as shown by the large portfolio he dragged with him everywhere. In fact, it was the same he'd had since high school. His wife (then girlfriend) had given it to him their first Christmas together. It was made of fine black leather, and, although the corners were worn and gray, the little message on the side was still visible: "Love you forever."

The portfolio itself reminded Ron that no matter how successful his career may be, he would never have what Josh had: a loving wife to come home to and a sense of belonging that had evaded him his entire life.

"I'll send him in," Ron replied, only the slightest hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Thanks," Ned's voice crackled. "And have a muy bueno day!"

Ron cringed at the words. He'd spent his entire high school career saying that same phrase to every customer as he completed their order. It had become such habit, he was certain he'd inadvertently offended many a Spanish speaker in his time. "You too, Ned."

Josh stood. "I guess I'd better be going," he said, heading toward the office door.

"Yeah, have a muy-" see! There, he'd almost done it. "Have a good day," he amended.

"You, too."

"Now if only my stupid computer would decide to work," he grumbled.

Grinning, Josh bent over and pressed an orange extension cord plug into a nearby outlet.

Brrrrrrrrring!

Josh smiled and left the office.

"That guy is too perfect," Ron moaned.

So, whatdya think?