Disclaimer: I don't own the marionettes in this story; I merely am pulling their strings so that they dance for me!

Author Notes: It seems that someone wanted to shut this story down. They said that it was because I would have had myself in there. I say that the way I was doing it is more artistically acceptable than all of the blatant Mary Sues running around. So, I have dropped the commentary, no matter how cool I think that it would have been. Sorry Rod, Al, it seems that what you pioneered is not worthy to be used by us hacks slamming out prose for our own amusements. This will be the last I say of this since sour grapes make bitter wine. If that isn't a quote from someone else, then I claim it. I have also changed the name of the story from You Don't Get to Have Me to Love, Possible Style.

I will, in this collection, try different writing styles. This may have some positive effects in my other stories, but then it may not.

WARNING: This deals with adult issues. If you are not allowed, by laws, parents, or personal beliefs to read such stories, then please stop reading now. I mean it, trust me. While nothing too overt is typed, you surely will know what is going on.

Chapter One: Another Possibility

Ron Stoppable pulled into the cityscape known as Middleton, Colorado early that Saturday morning. The engine of his compact car whined in protest at his promise of its rest when it got him to the sleepy suburb. The normal sixteen-hour trip from college was covered in just less than ten. There should have been another passenger with him that would help regulate the speed when his foot got to heavy and split the driving efforts, but he had left her at the school. He didn't want to hear her lies, especially this time.

Ron sighed and he killed the engine of the car in the driveway of this parents modest two story house. Knowing that they wouldn't be awake and not wanting to have to deal with them if they, by some chance, were up, he decided to walk the old neighborhood to stretch his legs and contemplate what the future had in store for him. As he walked through the neighborhood he came upon THAT tree.

The tree bore his initials and those of that lying, betraying harpy of flesh and bone, Kim Possible. Just a scant eleven hours ago he had shown up at his then girlfriend and fiancée's apartment to pick her up so that they could spend spring break with their families. He had gone to do that. The only reason she wasn't with him now was because of who she was giving a lift to then.

Chad Fox, football hero, was going through, what seemed to be a vigorous cardio exercise with the head cheerleader of the University of Utah, namely Kim Possible. Both were wearing the suits of their births and were sweating, heavily.

Ron pulled the last cigarette out of the pack and cursed slightly. Lighting it he let his memory drift back as the smoke rose from his nostrils…

(Author's Note: Flashback is from Ron's First Person Perspective)

"RON! What are you doing here," shouted the traitorous bitch as she tried to scramble for something to cover up with, but finding nothing. Her arms easily covered what her curled up legs did not.

"Dude, sorry, but given the chance I couldn't help but, well you know…" the quarterback said standing, in all of his so-called glory.

I am sure that my normally warm brown eyes turned cold and dark, "No, I don't know." I looked through the muscular student strait to Kim. "Why, KP? Can you tell me why?"

Kim held back a sob, "I… I wanted to… At least once, to see what it was like to..."

With a sneer the jock, in the fashion of most people that can't identify truly dangerous people because they believe themselves to be one spoke, "To see what it was like with a real man, not some piece of shi…"

He wasn't able to finish his sentence. The sounds of the three quick punches to his face followed by the elbow to his sternum and sole of a shoe to his knee were covered up and a scream of, "NO! RON DON'T!"

The formerly cocky, freshly drafted into the NFL, quarterback was slack jawed when I then spun in place and delivered a thrust kick to his jaw. He flew over KP and landed in a heap on the couch, I thought that I might have heard a crack from the frame of the couch; it could have been from the wall though. I hoped it was the couch; I hated that piece of shit.

"When he comes around, you can go on and plan your future. Plan anything that you want, as long as it doesn't involve me." I turned around and walked away.

I could still hear her calling me as I got into the car and closed the door, turning up the music as I hit the ignition. The last sight I saw of the slut was her leaning against the railing waving at me, probably screaming for me to come back to her. I focused on her tits in the mirror, then changed my focus to the road ahead of me and dropped the accelerator.

Ron looked around as he finished the cigarette and field stripped it. In his reverie of pain he hadn't paid attention to where his feet took him. Unfortunately they had, out of habit, taken him to, perhaps, the one place he did NOT want to be at this time. "Shit," he muttered under his breath as he looked at the three-story house in front of him. There was a longhaired red head with kind blue eyes in the front yard getting the paper. She looked at him and then concern washed over her face as she recognized who was standing on the other side of the street.

She waved to him and started to run towards him. Ron noticed the natural pendulum swing as her robe opened somewhat from her movement. She slowed as she got to him and Ron looked at the not quite sheer silk material that wrapped her body inside the thin terry cloth wrap.

"Oh, Ron, I am so glad to see you. I was so worried about you," care and concern obvious on her face.

Ron looked into her eyes sheepishly, "There was no need, Doctor P. Anyway you can stop worrying. Here I am all safe and sound."

Margaret took a deep breath and frowned. "And you have been smoking… Ron, you should know better. Kim called and said that you two had a fight. She was beside herself. Luckily Monique wasn't coming back and stayed with her. Come in and tell me what happened."

Ron tried to resist, but then she used the ultimate weapon in her arsenal, the puppy dog pout. Ron's brain went into full neutral as he saw, who until this time had been his best friend's mother turn into an attractive woman using her natural beauty and allure to twist his mind to her will. Ron did the only thing that he could do to stop her; he nodded.

Inside he found himself uncomfortable at the kitchen table that he had eaten at almost as many times as his own. A cup of coffee was placed in front of him with just the right amount of sugar. Even Kim can't do that, he thought. He looked up as he watched the still lithe form of Margaret Possible sit across from him and take his hands.

"Ron, what happened? I want the truth, I can't seem to get anything out of Kimmie."

"Do you really want to know?" He saw her nod. He took a deep breath and then recounted the entire sordid tale.

"THAT BITCH!"

Ron cringed from the volume and intensity from the usually reserved woman. She moved from the seat across from Ron and pulled one next to him and held him close. "I am so sorry, Ron. I thought we had raised her better. I just don't know what happened. I am just so glad that James isn't alive to hear this."

He felt a slight dampness on his head and he knew that it was from the tears of a woman that was reacting with real emotion at a betrayal of her trust. Feeling her chest spasm in an effort to keep a sob down was all that Ron could take and the flood that he kept back with a dam of anger and focus crumbled and he wept.

Fifteen, twenty minutes, hours, or days passed. Ron wasn't sure and couldn't testify to which one. All that he knew was that a long time ago his tears failed and he kept trying to force them out. One other thing he became slowly aware of was the light rubbing of his back and a hand stroking his hair. Realization came that his head was resting comfortably on a very nice bosom. Looking up into those kind blue eyes, "Sorry, about that Doctor P."

"Call me Margaret. It's perfectly okay, Ronald. I'm sorry also. I'm sorry that my daughter is stupid."

"Doctor… I mean Margaret, KP isn't stupid."

"Ron, I have some years on both of you. I know what I am talking about. She had some one as handsome, kind, and caring as you and throws it away for a quick fuck with a more than likely near brain dead asshole. Trust me that is stupid."

Ron looked in shock to the older woman. "Handsome?"

"Yes, Ronnie, handsome." She twirled his hair. "I have always thought so. I knew you would turn out to be quite the 'hottie'. I just couldn't get my hints through to Kim. I was glad when she realized it before everyone else at your school." She paused and toyed with his unruly hair some more. Her eyes showed something that sparked something in Ron. "Trust me, Ron, if there was ever a chance…" the sudden pressing of her lips to his stopped her words.

Truly there are five kisses in the course of all history that are considered the most romantic, the most powerful, the most pure, the most primal, and most deserved, after the initial shock to her neural network Margaret endeavored to replace four of them with this one. She knew in the back of her head that there was nothing pure about this one, and she didn't want it to come close.

Barely into the kiss she stood facing Ron, her robe sliding to the ground as she wrapped his body with hers. Ron easily held their weight as he twirled her and held her to the wall and let his hands roam her body. Each new touch elicited a new series of moans from her. Too soon the kiss was broken with both of them breathing heavily with the eyes of two lustful beings looking to ease their hunger.

Ron thought that he had heard something and started to look around. He found the delicate hands of the healer bring his eyes to hers. "The twins are still at school. Their spring break isn't until two weeks from now. I locked the doors."

She slid her hands under the shirt he was wearing and lifted it above his head and pulled it behind his head, but stopped before it left his arms and pushed him against the wall. She grabbed his crotch with a very firm squeeze. A mischievous smile formed on her face, "I just want to let you know that I am not always passive." A couple of more squeezes following the natural extension of her initial grab elicited a larger smile. "Kim was a fool to turn this away. Let's head to the bedroom."

Ron watched her as she walked towards the stairs, her hips swaying while she slid the silk gown over her head and left it on the floor next to the stairs. Ron was in awe as he watched her ascend the stairs in her natural state. After she had cleared the stairs past his view he gulped and did a courage check and quickly followed her. His shirt, now fully shed met her gown and he bounded the stairs trying his best to match her desired choice of attire.

-

Margaret Possible stirred slightly from her resting spot that was nestled close to the chest of the man had rekindled fires that had been dormant since the death of her husband almost four years ago. She moved slowly as not to awaken her still slumbering lover. For just over a day the two had not left the second floor except to raid the kitchen.

Margaret sighed at THAT memory. It had been so long since she had cooked in the nude with someone that loved to cook also. It was one thing that she was never able to get James to understand. She sighed lightly as she tenderly walked to the bathroom to relieve the pressure in her bladder. On her way back to the bed to see if she could get Ron up before he woke up, again, she heard what sounded like a key in the locks downstairs.

She quickly slipped a short silk robe on and left the room, shutting the door. She went to the stairs and peered down them to see the front door. She knew it wasn't Sam or Rebecca; Ron had called his parents and let them know that he was in town but needed some time to think about things. She listened closely and heard the one voice that she hadn't expected and didn't want to hear at the moment.

As the door opened a voice lilted through it, "I don't know, Mon, I tried calling Mom and there was no answer." Margaret cursed herself for turning off both the answering machine and ringer after the first time it rang. "Plus after what happened… I need some Mommy time."

"I understand, Kim. I am just glad I didn't make any plans. I am sure that my parents don't mind me coming to see them," commented Monique. She paused before moving any more. "Uh, Kim, I think that there might be a reason you couldn't reach your mom." She pointed to the gown and man's shirt at the foot of the stairs.

Kim froze in mid-step. "Monique?"

"I'll call you later, Kim. I DO NOT want to know that I see what I think I do." With that she was out of the door and in her car.

Kim approached the clothing as if they might be a trap and knelt down to inspect them. She nudged them and then picked up the silk gown, finding it intact. She was about to reach for the somehow familiar shirt when she heard something above her. She rolled to a defensive position and looked up seeing her mother with obvious signs of amorous endeavors.

"Hi, Kimmie, what are you doing here?" asked her mom as she walked down the stairs, pulling slightly at the bottom hem of the short robe. "I didn't expect to see you this week."

Kim's eyes grew even as her brain was trying to reject the information it was receiving. "I see. I… just really wanted to be around you since that fight with Ron."

All embarrassment was gone from Margaret's voice when she stopped her daughter, "About that. I learned more about what happened. You left A LOT out young lady." She sat down, her legs pulled under her. "HOW could you do that to RON?" Kim could feel the edge of displeasure in her mother's words. "He gave you everything. You threw it all away for what? A quick fuck with some football player?"

"Mom, it wasn't like that… The other cheerleaders kept talking about him… I… I just wanted to see if it was true. You know, how good he was." Kim looked up at her mother, "The ironic thing is that he wasn't as good as Ron."

I doubt that many are, was the thought that ran through Margaret's head. "I know that Ron is in town. You may want to try and find him and try and get him to understand. I don't think that you will be able to do so, but… you never know. You may want to try his parent's house."

Kim nodded. "I just am curious… is that something new?" Kim pointed to the shirt on the floor.

"Well I wouldn't say new…"

"Mom…"

"Kimmie, I loved your father very much. Yesterday I saw someone that I have always found attractive. They had just become available. We lost ourselves. It seems that we both had a lot of pain that we needed to work through. He treated me very, very good. Will it happen again? Who knows?" Margaret patted Kim's knee. "Now don't you have something more important to do than listen to me recap the past twenty four hours of uninhibited passion?"

Kim nodded, hugged her mother, and bolted out of the door. Margaret smiled when she saw her daughter's keys on the table. She locked the door and turned back to the stairs. "You heard?"

She saw Ron nod. "Yes, everything. I don't know if I could take her back. I think it would depend."

"If she ever does anything else stupid…"

"I know where home is now. I figure that we have about another three hours till she gets back here. That leaves time for a couple of more times, and then time for clean up."

Margaret had a wry grin on her face as she slid into her lovers embrace. Ron looked at her, "I am glad that I got the better end of the bargain on this. You are MUCH better than she is."

So ends the first episode of Love, Possible Style. Those that have been around for a while, or have access to stations that show old TV shows will notice that the name is a play off of a show by the name of Love, American Style. That show had the distinction of airing the pilot of a little piece of Americana called Happy Days. I have some ideas of odd pairings that I think have interesting, and somewhat believable ways to connect the two characters. Next episode is Doctor James Timothy Possible.