This may be the last post of this story for the summer. Sorry! But I'm heading off this weekend to lovely Camp Bartlett to force Scouties to learn First-Aid! (Bartlett is better than Loll!)

Rockets were good things. Oh, but they were very good things. Mr. Possible remembered the first time he had ever seen a rocket, the young, care-free age of five, when the older neighbor kids, rebelling from the norms of science class pets, launched them in the field behind the Possible farm. He still remembered the cops showing up at the fist fight that had succeeded the intellectual debate over velocity and physics of those aforementioned rockets. The gossip that had followed! It wasn't the fire department putting out the blaze in Old Mr. Emmet's wheat field that had captured his imagination, but those rockets against a country night.

And, dang, but they proved useful! Even after dedicating his life to their science, they never ceased to amaze him. Especially with all the technology and research going into them–and the birth of these amazingly nifty mini ones. Complete with aiming device–he had designed that part himself. And they could be released at any time, the fuel giving to temporary storage.

All he had to do was keep them lovingly pointed at the porch. It was fifteen minutes to ten o'clock, and he had yet to see lights in the driveway. Sure, technically the boy had quarter of an hour of safety, but melted synthodrone thing or not, that Erik boy had better not be wanting to push at curfew.

A heavy sigh came from the living room entrance. "Dear, I don't think you're going to have to worry about blowing Erik to smithereens." His wife paused there, cup of coffee in hand and the same tired expression she had been wearing for the past hour all over her face. "You saw the news. That brain-immitating synthogoo ran right out of him. And Kimmie took care of the rest. She can handle evil, you know that."

Mr. Possible sniffed. "Just because Kimmie's date turned out to be a villainous robot that was destroyed doesn't mean he can't bring her home at a decent hour!"

"Actually..."

He readjusted the rocket's aim. Hit the center of the porch. That would probably get everything. "I've decided that we're done with this conversation."

She sighed again and shook her head. "Okay, you're her father! Just don't expect a whole lot."

Curse that reminder. He had been waiting for an excuse to test this rocket. "But–"

Whatever argument he was going to attempt to bring up was shot down with the sound of footsteps outside.

Mrs. Possible gave a girlish squeal more appropriate for Kim's older sister than her mother. "Oh, Kimmie's first prom! And she's going to tell me all about it!"

The door opened and Kim stepped in, all aglow.

She better not have been holding hands with some boy. Mr. Possible stared past his daughter to the porch. Empty. Except for a lone figure spinning away. He carefully focused the rocket. A moving target... that would be a most interesting test... it'd have to be done eventually, why not now?

"Dad, leave Ron alone," Kim practically sang, doing a twirl across the carpet.

"Good time at the prom, Kimmie?" Mrs. Possible asked, setting down her coffee. "We were watching that bit on the news, I thought that Erik was such a nice guy..."

"So I have bad taste, Mom." She laughed. "But Ron! Wow! Mom, I wound up with Ron at the dance! You know, after I rushed home without a word to grab my dress..."

"Bad topic, your father was panicking over Erik. Old Mrs. Gertrude Williams may never recover from that plasma bomb."

"She earned it for stealing our paper!" Mr. Possible said defensively. "But.. Ronald? You met up with Ronald?"

Kim nodded. He had never seen his daughter so happy. This sort of happy... it almost wasn't normal. Almost not Kimmy...

"It was the weirdest thing!" she continued. "I never knew how wonderful Ron was! We went into the gym, and everyone cheered and..." She sighed. "And then we kissed."

"Kissed?" Mr. Possible's eyes widened. "Ronald kissed you?" His face twisted into a frown. "And I thought he was such a nice boy..." Now what direction was the Stoppable residence in?

She sent him one of those poor-old-dad gazes. "Dad, it was fine. Just a kiss. Nothing more. But Mom, it was great! Even better than slamming Shego into a power system..."

"Oh, yeah." Mrs. Possible frowned. "I was meaning to mention that. It looked really cool, but didn't you think..."

"Mom, she deserved it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go write this all in my diary."

Mr. Possible watched as she blew a kiss and raced up the stairs, burnt prom dress swirling around her legs. She was growing up so darn fast...

He was going to have to watch Ronald now. All these years and that nice Ronald kid had turned out to be a guy.

"Kim kissed a boy!" Jim shrieked from the other side of the house. "Kim kissed a boy!"

Jim's voice joined in with laughter. "Cooties! Cooties!"

Then came an unexpected thump, followed by more laughter. "Now stay out of my room!"

Kim had found guests in her room.

And had done something.

Mr. Possible exchanged confusion with his wife. "Did Kimmie just...?"

The twins appeared at the top of the stairs, eyes bright, Jim rubbing his shoulder.

"Since when did Kim learn how to wrestle like that?" he asked.

So this was Kim Possible's room, Synthodrone 993 thought to herself with a dramatic flinging open of the door. Or her room. It was becoming fuzzy now. All that programming... her system wasn't meant to take all of that! Too much programming! Well, it would be her room for the night, then.

And it was a nice room. So much better than the testing place Dr. Drakken had come up with. Stupid labs. No fashionable taste whatsoever. No wonder Shego had been so irritated with the guy.

Of course, Shego was irritated with her, at the moment. Shego had never been too fond of the synthodrone line. Well, that was perfectly understandable for the early ones, but once Dr. Drakken had installed that personality modifier chip, the line had become quite impressive. Hey, it had produce her. And that idiot that had gone under the name of "Erik." Well, he had been pretty cute.

Cute. She put a hand to her head, feeling the electricity flowing drastically through the goo inside of her. Ouch... this wasn't expected. Erik was "cute", she supposed. Yes, she was supposed to think that.

The real Kim Possible thought he was cute.

Dr. Drakken had given her so much Kim Possible-like programming.

But Erik... no, Erik wasn't cute! He couldn't be!

Ron was cute.

With a small scream she flung herself on the bed. This wasn't computing properly! That hadn't been the assignment, to think him cute!

Cute... cute... cute. Like Ron, Like Erik.

She really didn't want another weird power surge.

Cute...

Not another power surge. Power through her body wasn't good. She hated that feeling...

It couldn't last very long. Dr. Drakken was supposed to give her repairs.

It couldn't last long...

She was supposed to be breaking Dr. Drakken out of jail now. Right now. She glanced at the clock. And almost screamed.

2:00. 2 AM. She sat up, fuming. The power surge wasn't supposed to last that long! Well, Dr. Drakken wasn't going to be very happy. Of course, he wasn't supposed to be in that position. But it wasn't her fault.

She still wasn't sure what had happened back there. The program had been so simple. Once the real Kim Possible was locked up, she'd be tied to a giant Mexican symbol. Ron Stoppable would think she, Synthodrone 993, was Kim. She would pretend to be Kim, even past her programming. Once Ron Stoppable was on her side, they'd run off. And she'd help with everything. And destroy Ron Stoppable and Wade Lode, the last remnants of Team Possible.

Something had gone wrong... she shook her head. Dr. Drakken had promised she didn't have any bugs in her system. She had promised.

Maybe part of her was leaving him in prison on purpose. Maybe part of her had sent him there in the first place.

Well, the charade could continue. Dr. Drakken would understand. Make everyone think everything was okay. Then break him out of jail and help him out.

He was going to be mad that she had gone to a–prom, yes, that's what it was called. Her programming was supposed to make her like Ron. Ron was nice.

He had said he liked her...

No, he had been talking to the real Kim, or so he thought. So that had been directed to the real Kim!

And why did she care?

She closed her eyes and sunk back onto the bed. She could get used to this sort of comfort.

Something must have happened back at the lair's lab. She knew very well Dr. Drakken didn't program her this way. After all, it was sort of gross to kiss a human. There had to be something unethical about that.

Well, no more of this. She sat back up and jumped from the bed. That suit thingy was still on the floor. She liked that! That Wade kid could give Dr. Drakken a run for his money in the invention department.

That Wade kid... for a moment she panicked. He was smart. He didn't suspect anything, did he? No funky scans or anything...

Well, she had fooled Ron, apparently.

She picked up the suit thingy, admiring it. Nice color. Functional, yet still stylish, in a futuristic video game sort of way. The real thing. Shego had thought it a blast to snatch it from Kim Possible, leaving her with a cheap fake.

Feeling quite pleased with her out, No. 993 slipped on the suit. It fit her just as well as the real Kim Possible. And it would be useful for busting out Dr. Drakken and Shego.

She hoped they wouldn't be too mad. She hadn't meant to ruin the plan. It was Dr. Drakken's fault.

But it'd be okay. She'd explain that it had just happened, she hadn't meant to throw Shego into that electric system, and tell him about the bugs. No thinking about Ron. No.

Dr. Drakken would fix her. She was sure of it.

Apparently the power cells were weak. Apparently they were very weak. Somewhere around 6 AM, Kim forced aside the laser rope thingies surrounding her body. They broke away in an array of light, biting the darkness for a moment before dying into nothing. Stupid things. Then she lay there, gasping.

Wow. She had never been in chains that long. Never. Amazing how fatiguing being bound up for hours could be.

Her dad was going to be furious. Her out all night... but she had been captured.

Drakken had finally captured her. And Ron had refused to show up.

And the place was still pitch black. She fumbled around, searching for some sort of light. In one of these stupid boxes. Cardboard. What kind of dungeon was this?

"Drakken," she called out, trying to hide the panic in her voice. "Oh, Drakken!"

No reply.

She tripped over a box. Dang.

Where was her bag? Drakken wasn't smart enough to separate her from her bag, was he? She slid to the floor, feeling for it. Her hands slid over a flashlight. Good enough. She flicked it on. Yes, a storage area. Underground. Lots of boxes. And an old Port-a-Potty.

She almost wanted to cry. How could Ron leave her to this?

Then she saw what she was wearing.The super suit Wade had made for her was gone. Replaced by some... ugly yellow thing. Well, it sort of felt like the super suit.

Who the heck had changed her clothes without her permission! She fell back against a box, feeling tears coming from her eyes. "Worst prom night ever," she muttered. All this time she had thought she had been in the super suit.

But she couldn't worry about that now. She had to get out of here and find Ron.

Which wouldn't be too hard. She swirled the flashlight over to a corner of the room, where a broken "Exit" light hung over a door with a clearly broken lock.

Well, this was embarrassing. Especially with so much that needed to be done. She took a deep breath and shook a piece of paper from her foot. It floated into the beam of her flashlight.

Some technical description in bad cursive. And a computer drawing.

Mildly curious, she picked it up.

"... need full personality profile of Kimberly Anne Possible. Program into Synthodrone 993..." The drawing was of her.

The paper fell from her hand.

Shout Outs!

Aero Tendo: Well, it will take awhile...

Akemi: I like being mean to Ron. )

Allaine: Exactly! Drakken couldn't be that stupid!

BabyMama9672: Thanks!

BlinknSkater: Thanks!

Drakken's Woman: Loll girl! Loll girl! Curse you and your Lollness!

eViLrEaDeR: Thanks! Still, I hate cranking up ratings in stuff that ruins canon. Frankly, I figure that if someone will only read my story for sex and violence, it's a pathetic look on me. I try to focus on story. Besides, most people take KP out-of-character with T and above. It's hard for me to do it correctly. But thanks for the suggestion.

gargoylesama: Thanks!

G-Go: Thanks! It was actually midnight, climbed-out-of-bed writing. But thanks! Yeah, I liked the irony of Ron kissing the synthodrone. As for the processing... I figure the cops stopped being so serious with Drakken after so many times.

Kimberly Anne Possible: Thanks! The idea actually sprain from a joke...

Lady Kazaana: You mock her solitude!

MarkKB: Thanks!

pixie2010: Thanks!

ShadowGirl: Heck, I hardly ever write T! ) Um... I don't know if synthodrones have drool! What do you think?

Toast: I fear the Disney lawyers... they haven't had their shots.

Widow Shark: Thanks!

WWLAOS: You were mostly on with your musings. Congrats!