It Finally Happened Part IV

Ron put his hand on the key, ready to kill the engine. The first hurdle of he the evening was now past him. Now as he stared at the freshly mortared stone of the Possible home's main entrance he felt like he was fast approaching his doom.

I can get through this. On the other side is Kim. If I survive…when I survive this ordeal it will be just me and Kim and a first, real, bona fide date.

As slowly and deliberately he turned the key of his mother's 1978 Pontiac Catalina. The 'battleship' slowly chugged, not willing to surrender its petroleum fueled life as if it were in fear it would never live again. It dieseled one more time then sank into silence save the sounds of heated metal creaking from the engine block.

His father had been all too happy to hand him the keys to his much newer, much smaller Camry, but his mother had swooped in from above and dispelled that very notion. He was going to take the big car, the one that, even with its V-8 engine, was sorely underpowered. The one that could ram a brick wall and come through unscathed. If her little man was going to be driving around, at least he would do it in a vehicle that would be safe!

Neither car would have been his first choice, but it was all he had to choose from. Still, despite it being extremely non-badical, the Toyota was better than the old, slightly rusty tank. It had a nice tape-deck (his father thought CD players were just a fad) and the V-6, coupled to a much lighter car, felt a great deal more powerful than his mother's old chunk of real Detroit steel. At least with permission to drive at all secured from his father, he had been spared having that kind of argument with his mother.

It would have been nice if he still had his Naco royalties. Then he would have sought out his dream car, a black 1977 Trans Am with a T-roof and full Firebird decals, complete, all the way down to an old Georgia flag front plate and a working CB. The fact he was nothing like the driver of said movie inspired fantasy didn't bother him in the least.

He nearly stumbled on the stoop, bringing his mind crashing back to reality. On the other side of that freshly painted red door waited the love of his life. With all the fortitude he could summon, he reached for the doorbell. The act itself felt so odd, so different. Here was a home he could enter, at will, any time day or night, yet this time it was different. There was a right way of doing things and announcing his presence counted itself among those ways.

As it happened, his finger never touched the doorbell.

The déjà vu he felt up to that point was dashed away. The last time he had been in this position he had been whisked into the house by the two doctors Possible. This time he was greeted with a sight that stopped him cold, making the 'spilly willies' seem like a mild quiver.

In the past year Ron had noticed he was starting to grow again. After being very slightly shorter than Kim for so long, he now had just about an inch on her. That didn't help one little bit as the towering, glaring vision in the doorway sized him up. There was not a trace of humor on the back-lit face of James Possible, the light giving his lightning bolt shaped streak of gray a sinister glow. The image was not helped by the fact he had not spoken a word to him the few times he had been by to pick up Kim for a mission, the only reason either of them had been let out of the house during their grounding.

"Ronald." He spoke at last, his voice flat.

"Mr. Dr. P." Ron responded, trying to keep his voice from shifting up an octave.

"Please come in." He stepped aside, making way for the quaking teen.

As he brushed past the man who sired the single most important person in his life, Ron realized he was not dressed simply in his usual tan shirt and brown trousers. Another garment had been added to the ensemble, one whose implications were not lost on him in the least. It was something he had never seen the elder Possible wear at home.

Kim's father was wearing a neatly pressed, white lab coat.

Without another word he ushered him into the sitting room. The comfortable, homey luxury of the family beckoned to him, the warm embrace of the familiar couch inviting him onward. That was not to be. Two other men waited in the sitting room, blocking his path to the family sanctum. Each appeared to be at least a decade younger than Kim's parents and each was wearing equally neat white coats.

James Possible followed him into the room, taking a metal suitcase from beneath the low cocktail table, undoing the combination lock and opening it, the contents hidden from view.

"Ronald, I don't believe you have met Doctor Eng and Doctor Michaels before. They are colleagues of mine from the Space Center, though they work in a different department for the time being."

Ron could just stand there in mute silence. His slightly sluggish mind had ground to an utter and complete halt. It was a wonder he didn't start drooling.

James nodded to the two men. They each reached into the suitcase, one removing a tiny folding tripod shaped device, the other producing what looked for all the world like a wafer thin bathroom scale. In fact, he was very, very close, considering the next thing Dr. Eng did was make him stand on it while Dr. Michaels set up the tripod at his feet. A tiny red laser sprang to life, enveloping his whole body in a grid. Moments later it shut off and the two scientists returned the tools to the case, shutting and latching it. Dr. Michaels picked up the case and nodded to James.

"Thank you, gentlemen. I look forward to seeing you on Monday." He politely showed the men to the door, leaving the stunned and shaken Ron in their wake. He wasn't certain, but he could swear he heard them burst into laughter as they walked away.

James stepped back into the room, removing his lab coat and draping it over the back of a chair. "Alright, since that's taken care of, now we can have a little chat, Ronald."

"Dr. P, what was all that about?"

"Oh, they just needed to take some biometric readings."

"On me? Who were those men?"

"Dr. Eng is the head of the EVA suit lab. He designs and supervises the construction of space suits. Dr. Michaels is part of our space probe lab."

"What has that got to do with me?"

"Oh, hopefully nothing, just a minor precaution. Please, let's go to the family room. I'm sure you will be more comfortable there. As well as you know Kim, I don't think you're aware of just how long it can take her to get ready sometimes."

"Um, sure." He said, not knowing what the older man was talking about. Kim was a master at throwing herself together in minutes, though that usually involved mock turtlenecks and cargo pants. A week and one half day ago she had gone from a rain-soaked, battle-suit clad avenger to a ravishing beauty in the time it took for him to rocket home, throw on his tux and rocket back.

James took a seat in the same high backed easy chair he had the night before. Ron noticed he had settle into his usual place as well. He also noticed that, despite his polite, calm voice, Kim's father still had his poker face on.

"Ronald, I won't beat around the bush with you. I like you, I always have. You have always been a great friend for my Kimmie-cub and I am quite proud of the way you respect her. Back during that…unfortunate escapade back in early spring, you handled yourself like a man and a gentleman. I never got the chance to properly thank you for that.

"Your father and I are both protective of our children. Despite the fact that once we were done talking to the two of you about it we weren't really mad at you any more, we still felt like it was a good idea to put the brakes on, at least for a week. You see, Kimmie is, shall we say, quite volatile. We wanted to make certain she wasn't jumping into something too quickly because of what that…thing…did to her. I hope you can understand, we had the best interests of both of you in mind."

"I think I do, Dr. P. It wasn't like we didn't get to see each other, with GJ calling us every five minutes."

"I know, and that was perfectly fine. It let the two of you interact the way you normally do, let you come to grips with all of this without all the romantic feelings getting in the way. Plus I'm sure, as your cell-phone bills will attest, it gave you two plenty of time to just talk.

"Now, I want you to answer me, man to man. Do you love Kimberly Anne?"

"Y…yes sir."

"Good. Then you should understand me. Everything I do, everything I say that involves my daughter is because I love her. If that means grounding her, if that means keeping the two of you apart, it's all because I would not let anything in the world hurt her. I may not be able to protect her from the super-freaks of the world, but everything else can either make me the sweetest Daddy in the world or the worst son-of-a-bitch you've ever seen. Do you understand that?"

"Yes sir!"

"I don't ever want to see her hurt. Now I don't mean if you make her cry or the two of you have a fight or something like that. I mean if you hurt her, I mean really, really hurt her then I'm going to be the first of many S O Bs you will be answering too. Kimmie-cub is one of the strongest women I have ever known, but under all that she is really a shy, emotional little girl. Try to remember that."

"I will, Dr. P."

"Ronald, I don't have to tell you how much you have meant in her life. Even if the two of you hadn't fallen in love, she still loved you very much, even if she forgot how to show it from time to time. Of all the boys who have come in and out of her life, you're the only one I consider worthy of her. Don't forget that."

"I won't."

"Good. Because I would hate to have to call doctors Eng and Michaels Monday morning to tell them they've got an extra sixty-six point one three four kilograms to send up in the latest black hole probe. Now, let's see if Kimmie-cub is ready for your big date."

A/N -- I used to have a 1978 Pontiac Catalina. It wasn't a cool car, it wasn't even a very nice looking car. It was kind of boxy, with lots of squared off angles and such. It was a honking big tank (not as big as my mother's 76 LeSabre) Despite all of that, I have very fond memories of that car. My parents bought it when I was eleven. It had about ten miles on it at the time. A few years ago when it finally gave up the ghost the odometer had broken around 250K (it probably was pushing 300K) It was ugly, maroon, had a vinyl top that rotted every few years, but I got my license in that car, I spent many family vacations in it and I proposed to my wife in it 20 years ago this summer (we'll be married 17 years by then) so it wasn't by random choice I picked it for their date.

Now, without further adieu, it's time for their date:)