Saturday morning.

For the typical teen, it was a chance to sleep in. For the less than typical teen, it was time to go to the weekend job. For the less than less than typical teen, it was time to go for a jog.

It wasn't that Ron really liked exercise; it was the fact that the benefits outweighed the losses. For one thing, he was usually sore after a game and a jog was a good way to loosen up and feel better for the rest of the day. For another, the light exercise kept him prepared for the brutal workouts that would be waiting for him early in the week. Finally, since he sort of had to work out a little, it was best to get it done early. Sleeping in wasn't really in the cards, since Hana didn't sleep in and would chase him out of bed if he tried.

And so he found himself in the park, having just finished a fairly grueling three mile run. The aches and pains had been worked out and he was now slowing down for the walk home, thinking of a hot shower and a hot breakfast. The journey was interrupted by a petite redhead standing in his way.

"Hey Kim," he greeted his friend. "What brings you out on a Saturday?"

It was only after he spoke that he noted her expression, which wasn't one to encourage casual conversation.

"I heard you were at a party last night," she stated.

"So?" He asked. "And how did you find out?"

"Monique was at the party," Kim told him. "And she saw you."

"Really?" He was surprised. "I didn't see her."

"Because you spent all your time looking at a blonde girl," she growled.

"So?" He asked again. "I managed to score a date, is that such a bad thing?"

"Last weekend you said that you were giving up on dating for awhile," she reminded him.

"Michelle just came out and asked," he told her. "What's the big deal?"

"You didn't seem all that interested in dating when I told you that Chrystal didn't have a boyfriend and was interested in you," she pointed out.

"Chrystal didn't come up and ask me out," Ron told her. "Or, more to the point, when she did I thought that I was still with Yori...which I sort of was. Michelle just asked me out and pointed out that this date didn't mean anything, it was just getting to know each other a little better to find out if we want to go on more dates."

"You already know Chrystal pretty well," Kim continued. "You know that she's nice and she's practical. Why do you have to try to get something going with a new girl instead of someone you know?"

"I think you're reading a whole lot more into this than is really there," he protested, pointedly walking around her and continuing his trip home. "Besides, how is this any of your business, anyway?"

"Because I'm worried about you," she answered, falling into step beside him. "You're shook up right now, whether you'll admit it or not. I don't want someone taking advantage of that."

"Taking advantage?" He glared at her, but kept walking. "How is a high school girl going to take advantage of me, especially at a crowded party?"

"Look at what happened at the Middleton Days Festival," she countered. "I know that I was part of it and I'm sorry, but you were upset and vulnerable...I don't want something like that to happen to you again."

"If it makes you feel any better, I had Wade check on Camille's whereabouts before going on the date," he growled at her. "He was warning me against going on a date, as well. Why is it that the two of you are all concerned about my dating life now, but neither of you could have told me that Tara was interested back when she wasn't with anyone?"

"We thought that you knew that Tara was interested," Kim told him.

"I doubt that," he snapped back. "But what about the first question, why are the two of you all interested in my dating life now?" He really didn't want to start the day with an argument, but he wasn't about to sit back and be lectured by her, of all people.

"Because we're worried about you," she repeated. After a quick look around to make sure that they were alone, she continued. "Ron, you've just gone through a betrayal that very few people will ever go through. I don't want you setting yourself up for a status-obsessed manipulator."

"Just how have you become an expert on Michelle?" He demanded. "You don't even know her, except as a cheerleader on a rival squad."

"Monique has ears everywhere," she told him. "Teens from all over the Tri-City area shop at Club Banana, and they like to talk. That's how she knew that you and this Michelle seemed to have eyes for each other last week, that's how she knew about the party and that's how she knows all about Michelle."

"Did it ever occur to you that Monique is hearing everything second hand?" He asked. "I've read some of the on-line comments about you. Do you think you're anything like that?"

"Monique is very good about sifting the honest opinions from the vindictive gossip," Kim told him. "But this brings up something else, you're defending Michelle. Why?"

"Because maybe her reputation is blown all out of proportion!" He snapped. "Maybe I actually enjoyed myself last night! Maybe I liked spending some time with a pretty girl! Maybe I liked the fact that she enjoyed being around me, and not because we were friends. Even if this doesn't go anywhere, maybe, just maybe, I like the idea of a girl being interested in me as a boy."

"But Chrystal is pretty," she snapped back. "And she's a lot nicer than Michelle."

"Why does it have to be Chrystal?" He demanded. "Why does it have to be someone you approve of? I never approved of Eric, and you told me where I could go with that opinion. Why do you get to tell me who I can and can't date?"

"I can't," she admitted. "But I can tell you when you're making a mistake."

"That's real rich, coming from you," he grumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her voice sounded like it was milliseconds from going back to shouting.

"Let's see," he grumbled back, not really wanting this fight but having already stepped into it too far to go back. "You went on a date with Mankey, even though you nearly got embarrassed out of existence. You then started dating Eric, within days of meeting him. Then, when you found out that he's a construct that Drakken made to get you to fall for him, you kept on dating him and were ready to throw away cheerleading for him. And now you're about to lecture me about making dumb decisions."

Two things saved him. First, his reflexes were very fast and second, she was acting more out of emotion than trying to actually hit him. He easily sidestepped the slap and was ready for the next one when she regained control of herself.

"How dare you?" She yelled at him. "That's my private life!"

"And this is my private life!" He yelled right back. "You made damned sure that I knew that you had no interest in me that way, but you sure seem to want to control what I do with it! I think you stack up worse than me, morals wise!"

With an extreme effort, she wrestled her emotions back under control. "Ron, I'm more on the outside of your life than I ever thought I'd be. Now, let me meet you half way and admit that I may be controlling. Can you meet me half way and admit that I may have a point?"

"Okay, fine," while he really didn't like this conversation, at least they weren't yelling at each other. "So, why can't I be free to make a mistake?"

"You are free," she told him. "But aren't I free to say it's a bad idea?"

"And I'm free to take the advice or not," he pointed out.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Just like I did. Can I at least make my point, if I keep it polite?"

"I think we can use some polite," he agreed, looking around to make sure that their yelling match hadn't drawn onlookers.

"Okay," she took a deep breath. "Here's what I know about this Michelle. She's very status conscious and she sees boyfriends as a way to get status. I don't want her to use you for status and toss you aside when she's gotten everything she wants from you."

"I don't have much status to exploit," he pointed out. "I'm a high school running back with not much else going on right now. I don't know if the school she wants to go to is even interested in me, so this is just for high school, at the most."

"You'd be surprised," she told him. "You're getting more recognition on the missions...and yes, you should have been getting it all along. If you wanted to exploit that recognition, you probably could. I don't want to see her exploiting that recognition and hurting you."

That brought him up short, reminding him of both how much Michelle had talked about him making use of his recognition and Bonnie's lecture about not making use of it. That brought on a thought that he didn't really like.

"Is that it?" He demanded. "Do you think that the only reason a girl will ever like me is for the status I have by being around you?"

"I didn't say that..." She tried to say.

"It sure sounded like it to me," he growled back. "You learned that I had a date, then decided that the only reason she would go out with me was to take advantage of me helping you."

"There's more to it than that," she protested.

"Yeah," he snorted. "She wasn't someone that you had picked out for me." He thought about it for a moment. "Is that it? I'm only able to date someone you approve of? Afraid I might taint the Kim Possible Brand if you leave me to live my own life?"

"That's not it at all and you know it!" She snarled right back. "Has it ever occurred to you that I want you to be happy? That I want you to meet and be with someone who can give you what I just can't? Just because I don't want you that way doesn't mean I don't want you to find someone who does!"

"But she has to be someone you approve of," he added.

"Dammit, Ron!" She threw her hands up in disgust. "Back when we first met Fiske, you warned me that he was bad road and I didn't listen to you. You were right but I was so blinded by my need to help someone working for a good cause that I wouldn't listen. I'm just saying that Michelle is bad road, as well. The only problem is that you're so blinded by what you've been through and how hot she is that you're not seeing it."

"Well, I tell you what," he answered, pushing the level of sarcasm in his voice to the point that it could potentially change the weather. "If she ever tries to get me to recover some statue from a snake-infested temple, I'll believe you. On the other hand, if all she wants to do is dance with me and hold my hand, I don't think I have a whole lot to worry about."

By now, they had reached his house, so he stormed away from her, walked inside and firmly closed the door behind him. He neither knew nor cared how she would react to what he had just said. He was willing to help her on missions; was even willing to be her friend, but maybe it was time for him to make his own mistakes. In a way, she was trying to be as controlling as Yamanouchi was, so maybe it was time for him to be a real teenager...at least as much as he could. So, like a normal teen, he composed a text to Michelle in which he said that he really enjoyed the previous night (which was true enough) and hoping that they could get together again sometime. Then, he went about his day, pointedly trying to ignore his phone and how much he was hoping for a response.

Monday morning.

For most teens, it was the somewhat dread of another school week. It was somewhat dread since while most teens didn't much care for the classes, they at least enjoyed interacting with other teens. For Ron, the chance to interact with other teens; or more to the point, one particular other teen, was something to both dread and look forward to. Even when he tried, he just couldn't be normal.

"I really enjoyed last night, as well," she had texted back to him. "And I really look forward to talking to you on Monday."

Ron didn't have any normal boyfriend/girlfriend experience, but that sounded kind of odd to him. He supposed that if she really didn't want to see him again, she wouldn't have stated that she had enjoyed herself and she wouldn't have mentioned that she was looking forward to talking on Monday. On the other hand, by saying that she wanted to talk on Monday, she hinted that she didn't want him trying to contact her for the rest of the weekend...or so he guessed. This was a sort of middle ground, not really encouraging him but still not turning him away. So, one of the reasons that he didn't mind Monday so much was that he would probably figure out just what the sitch was between the two of them.

Why couldn't things be, if not simple, at least straightforward? Of course, his last relationship that had been straightforward had turned out to be a lie, so maybe a little ambiguity wasn't all that bad.

"Hey Ron!"

There was no faking the enthusiasm Michelle showed when she greeted him...or at least he hoped so. The blonde had a huge smile on her face as she approached him.

"Nice to see you," he offered.

"Same here," she told him. "I really had a good time Friday and I'd like to talk more, but I have to run. Meet you at lunch time?"

"Sure," he managed to stammer, before she swept off, calling to one of her fellow cheerleaders.

He was somewhat confused by this. He was well aware of the "we need to talk" statement but he was sure that this usually came with a serious, regretful expression rather than a beaming smile. On the other hand, they weren't anywhere near the point that the "we need to talk" discussion was needed.

Or were they?

Shaking his head at his complete lack of insight to the sitch, he went about his morning as best he could, hoping to get some clarity at lunchtime.

To his somewhat relief and somewhat irritation, Michelle intercepted him on the way to the lunchroom and directed him away from where most of the student body was congregating. He felt relief because he would figure out the sitch sooner rather than later. He felt irritation because he was really, really looking forward to lining his belly.

"Okay, here's the deal," Michelle told him, once she was satisfied that they had a modicum of privacy. "I like you, as in I like you as potentially more than a friend."

That was good, he decided, and at least she was being honest about it.

"But I don't want you to focus on that," she continued. "It's a playoff game this Friday and I don't want anything distracting you from it."

"I'm not following this logic," he admitted.

"When I want to be distracting, I am very, very distracting," she told him, with her eyes half closed. He had to admit that it was having an effect, but not as strong as she probably thought.

"You realize that I'm an expert distractor," he pointed out. "I've distracted world class villains on every continent, most oceans and even in space. You don't get to be a good distractor unless you can handle distraction."

"That may be so," she quipped back. "But right now, I'm really feeling like being distracting. But, let's keep things in perspective. Concentrate on the game and I'll concentrate on the routines. Get a win for the team and I'll keep the crowd in the game. If we both do well, we can distract each other afterwards."

"That sounds like a plan," he admitted. "But you need to know, my idea of distracting someone usually involves running, screaming, avoiding hired muscle, dodging death rays and breaking expensive machinery."

"That sounds unusual," she smiled at him. "I'm usually down to try anything once, but let's see if we can find something more in line with what teens usually do. For now, I'm hungry, let's hit the caf."

She caught his hand and led him back down the hall.

"I thought you said no distracting," he pointed out, shaking their joined hands just a bit but not letting go.

"This isn't distracting," she told him. "This is letting everyone know that nobody but me gets to distract you."

And somehow, he was just fine with that.

He didn't share any classes with Michelle for the rest of the day, something that he regretted in a way but also thought was probably for the best. It was ironic that a pretty girl admitting to wanting to distract him was, in and of itself, distracting. Despite it all, he had a stupid grin on his face for the rest of the day.

There were some snickers and smirks directed his way before practice...his walking hand-in-hand with Michelle had been pretty obvious, but there were no comments or heckling. Even the smirks went away once practice started. As to be expected, it was a brutal practice. Coach Roughman was a firm believer in cruel drills on Monday and Tuesday, easing off to just harsh on Wednesday, then taking it much easier on his team on Thursday. Even if some of his teammates wanted to give him grief after practice, there was no energy to do so. After his shower, Ron stumbled out for his usual meeting with Rick before heading home. Of course, after the brutal workout, he wasn't surprised to see the mascot already waiting for him.

"So, did you draw a short straw or did you decide to do the squad a favor as a way of sucking up before mascot tryouts?" Rick asked him, with a smirk much like the ones some of his teammates gave him before practice.

"Okay, that's not sinking in," Ron grumbled. He wasn't exactly quick witted during the best of times and now was definitely not the best of times.

"I think I told you before," the mascot pointed out. "Michelle's easier to deal with when she has a boyfriend and she has suddenly become easier to deal with. Seeing that the two of you were holding hands today, it's not that hard to put two and two together." He paused a bit. "I didn't think that you would be the type to go for looks over everything else."

"We're not boyfriend and girlfriend," Ron protested.

"Oh?" Rick looked both curious and amused. "Then what is going on?"

"We're trying to decide if we want to be or not," Ron told him.

"I think that she's already decided," Rick snorted.

"I haven't," Ron told him. "Look, is it all that wrong for me to just enjoy the company of a pretty girl?"

"So, you're just leading her on?" Rick looked considerably less amused now. It was clear to Ron that while the mascot might not exactly like the cheerleader in question, he didn't approve of Ron doing what he was suggesting.

"No!" Ron protested. "I'm just trying to figure out if I want to be her boyfriend and if she wants to be my girlfriend. Isn't that what dating is all about?"

"Ah, so you admit that the two of you were on a date on Friday?"

"No. Or, maybe," Ron finally shrugged his shoulders. "Fine, it was a date! Is that so terrible? Besides, she's nowhere near as nasty as you hinted at."

"She isn't," Rick agreed. "At least, not to most people. She's only cruel to three sorts of people."

"And those are?" Ron asked.

"People who she thinks are beneath her, but still want to hang out with her," Rick counted off on one finger. "Guys who she's interested in that don't show any interest in her," he pointed to another finger. "And anyone who she thinks could be an alpha that doesn't act like it. Everyone else gets cold politeness."

"I don't..." Ron began, but Rick, who was looking down the hallway towards the dressing room, waved him to silence. Moment's later, the cheerleader in question showed up and flashed that special smile that took Ron's breath away.

"I thought I'd see the two of you gossiping here," she admitted.

"We're not," Ron protested. "When girls do it, it's gossip. When boys do it, it's scuttlebutt."

"Well, if the two of you are done butting, I thought I'd give the star running back a ride home," she told them. "We don't want him catching a chill, do we?"

"Absolutely not," Rick answered, before Ron could. "We can catch up tomorrow."

The mascot pulled on his coat and headed out the door, making Ron wonder if the "bro code" was always a good thing.

"Well?" Michelle asked him.

"I would very much appreciate a ride home," Ron told her, which made her smile look a little bit triumphant.

He was, of course, familiar with her car and he thought that he knew where they stood with each other. The drive to his house wasn't very long but for some reason, he was nervous about when they arrived. He decided to go for polite.

"Thanks for the ride," he told her, as she pulled over in front of his home. "I'm really looking forward to this weekend."

"So am I," she smiled at him. Then, when he opened the door, "aren't you forgetting something"

He was confused; he had said thank you, what was he missing?

"C'mere," she motioned to him. When he leaned towards her, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"I thought you said I should concentrate on the game," he told her, his eyes wide.

"That's just saying good night," she told him, with an impish smile.

Ron walked into his house knowing that she was playing mental games with him, but enjoying the fact that she was.

Tuesday there was more hand-holding, as well as some socializing with Michelle. He knew that she was playing with him, teasing him to get and keep his interest but he was enjoying it. She actually found him worth putting in the time to charm. Of course, it was another brutal practice after school. When he staggered into the gym afterwards, he only had a few minutes to talk to Rick before Michelle showed up and offered him a ride home again. This time, he decided to be bold; when she tried for the peck on the cheek, he turned his head and kissed her. She just smiled at that one and told him to keep his mind on the upcoming game, but she looked very happy when she drove off.

He knew that she was flirting with him, playing a bit of a game with him, but he was enjoying it. A pretty girl thought that he was worth the effort to flirt with and play these games with. As much as he knew that jumping into another relationship right now, even if it was just a teenage romance, was a bad idea, he couldn't shake the notion that if it was just having fun and nothing was going to come out of it, so what? He was happier. He had always liked playing with Hana, but now he actually enjoyed doing his homework and was looking forward to killing it in practice, as well. Was it wrong for him to be happy, especially when it wasn't hurting anyone?

Wednesday, when he arrived at school, Michelle was waiting for him. With a quick glance around for any teachers, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Okay, this level of attention was either blatant flirting or a practical joke...and he didn't see a bunch of her friends laughing about the whole thing. Somehow, he managed to drag his attention back to the matter at hand...school...and got through the rest of the day. Practice that night was only rough, as the coach wanted them ready for the game on Friday. Again, he met up with Rick after practice and had a few minutes to talk before Michelle showed up to give him a ride home. He was sure that Rick would have heard if Michelle was planning some sort of nasty joke on him, and that the mascot would let him know if it was taking place. Armed with this reassurance, he was kind of ready for what came next.

Despite the fact that he had actually gone all the way with two girls...even though he thought that the first one was actually the second one at the time...he had never had a teenage make-out session before. Even though he knew it wasn't going to go any farther than a little tonsil hockey, it felt wonderful. This was what teens were supposed to be doing and it felt like the right thing to do. Maybe he had missed out on the little steps with Yori and Leon, but there wasn't anything saying he couldn't do it right this time.

It only took Michelle a few minutes to completely take his breath away and fog her car's windows.

"You better go," she told him, short of breath herself. "I'll see you tomorrow...and Friday after the game."

The last remark was delivered with a smile that made his knees weak. He could only stammer his agreement and stumble, clumsily, out of the car and into his home.

The normal routine of playing with Hana and doing his homework did a great deal to get his mind back on an even keel. He actually wondered why Kim hadn't confronted him again; he fully believed her claim that Monique had a gossip network in Eastside as well as Middleton, so the redhead must have heard that he and Michelle were moving forward. Maybe his old friend had decided that it was his life to live and his mistakes to make...assuming this was a mistake. He was also nervous about the upcoming game; it was a big deal for the school and there would probably be college scouts paying attention to it.

Maybe even a scout from UCLA?

With the game getting closer and closer, Ron actually had trouble thinking about Michelle on Thursday, something that seemed to both amuse her and challenge her. He also had trouble focusing on his classes, something that challenged...but most certainly did not amuse...his teachers. Somehow, he managed to force his head into the academic game enough to avoid detention. After practice, he couldn't really focus on his conversation with Rick, something the mascot seemed to understand and accept. He couldn't even really get into the short make-out session with Michelle...but fortunately, she seemed to understand. Even while playing with Hana, he kept thinking about pass coverages and blitz pickups. The sandman took his sweet time arriving that night, leaving him even more tense in the morning.

He hadn't realized how popular he had become at Eastside High. While Michelle, Rick and his teammates were all supportive, he was surprised at how many of his fellow students wished him luck. He needed it. He was more nervous about this game than he had been for his first game, his first start, and the game in Middleton all combined. Even a text from Kim, wishing him a good game even if they weren't exactly tight at the moment, didn't calm him down. Time seemed to both drag along and pass too quickly. Finally, all too soon, it was game time.

He barely heard the coach's pre-game pep talk. He knew what it was, a plea and demand to remember what they had practiced, to look out for each other and to execute the plan. He barely heard the cheers as he and the rest of the team took the field, even though they probably rattled the bleachers. He barely heard the chatter during the pre-game warm up, even though he gladly exchanged pad-slaps with his teammates. The announcer introduced the Eastside defense, so he didn't run out on the field to his name being called. Instead, he paced the bench while his team kicked off and the defense eventually forced a punt.

He ran onto the field with his offense pinned back deep on their own side of the field and it became clear, that the opposing defense was keying on him. In two plays, he managed three yards but the coach was ready for it. On third and long, the coach called for a flea-flicker, which worked like a charm. Jeff, the receiver, was wide open and took the ball almost to mid field. However, the next play, the opposing defense was keying on him again, giving him an idea.

"The next time we run a delay," he whispered to Brian, as they returned to the huddle. "I'm going to fake a flea-flicker."

"What?" The other teen asked him.

"Don't tell anyone else," Ron told him. "That way, it'll fool everyone. I'll take the ball and act like I'm tossing it back to you. That'll get them running past me."

"I like it," the other boy grinned. "We don't even have that one in the playbook, so coach can't yell at us for giving away a play...well, at least not very much."

The next delay came two plays later, on first down and Ron's plan worked perfectly. The opposing team's front seven first closed in on him, then went for Brian when Ron turned and acted like he was about to throw the ball back to him. Ron only had a moment to contemplate his quarterback's smile, even through the mouthpiece, before spinning around again and taking off downfield. In a moment, he realized why Brian was smiling; most of the defense's front seven was already past him while his own blockers were tying up the only ones between him and the end zone. He poured on every bit of speed that he was capable of, leaving the scrum at the line of scrimmage far in his wake. He sidestepped one safety then stiff-armed out of the other safety's tackle before dodging a cornerback...who was trying to fight off a receiver's block...and rushing into the end zone.

It was only when he turned around, after tossing the ball to one of the refs, that the loud cheers really sunk in. His teammates almost mugged him on the way to the sideline, and he mugged them right back. Then, he was standing in front of Coach Roughman. To his surprise, the stern man gave him a tight smile and congratulated him on quick thinking. Feeling much better, he found a place on the bench, close to the rest of the offense, and listened while one of the coaches went over what they would do when they got back in.

It was a rough game. Just because the Eagles had burned their opponents on the first series didn't mean that it became easier. The other defense continued to key on Ron, making every yard gained a painful, labor-intensive ordeal. Of course, by putting up with that ordeal, Ron opened the field to the passing game and to keepers that Brian was very good at exploiting. Still, the other team had as much hope of reaching the championship as the Eagles had, so it was a gritty, hard contest right down to the end. Finally, late in the fourth, the coach called another flea-flicker which put the Eagles up by ten with only a minute left in the game. The other team tried, but the Eagle defense kept them out of the end zone.

The final gun sounded and the Eagles rushed to the field to find their counterparts on the other side and shake hands, while Eastside students swarmed the field to celebrate the win. Ron took part in the celebration; shaking hands with his opponents and accepting their congratulations...as well as the thanks from his fellow students. Michelle found him and despite the fact that he was soaked in sweat and mud, threw her arms around his neck in a huge hug. He patted her back and set her down, exchanging a high five with Rick before the coach bellowed for the players to head to the locker room.

Once in the locker room, Coach Roughman gave his usual spiel. He congratulated them on a good game, told them to have fun during the weekend but to stay out of trouble and be ready to hit it again on Monday. He then informed them that because it was so cold, the booster club was holding a pizza party in the gym and urged them to attend it, rather than heading out to some other party before finishing with a final thanks and congratulations for their efforts.

Once showered and dressed, Ron walked out to the parking lot to meet up with his father. With the cold night, the older Stoppable had left Hana at home but still congratulated Ron on an excellent game before cutting his conversation short, seeing that Michelle was waiting for his son. The elder Stoppable took Ron's gym bag, smiled warmly at the teen before giving him a gentle, but firm, push towards the blonde cheerleader and saying that they could talk more later, at home.

Shocked to learn that the bro-code applied to middle-aged men, Ron approached Michelle, who threw her arms around his neck and gave him a short, but passionate kiss. Ron swore that he could feel his dad's smile on his back as Michelle released him, then seized his hand.

"We really should make the party in the gym," she told him. "Everyone's going to be there, so it's sort of expected. But afterwards..." she paused, then gave him a look that was both shy and bold. "I thought we could head off and spend some time, just the two of us."

Ron's breath caught in his throat, leaving him speechless. He could only nod, something that prompted a triumphant smile on Michelle's face. Unfortunately for him, it was at that moment that his wrist-mounted Kimmunicator chimed.

"Ron!" Wade's image appeared. One look at the boy's expression froze any complaint Ron could have had. "I hate to bother you, but this is serious. Kim went after Drakken and a new criminal, and she's been captured. This is an emergency, it's life or death not only for Kim, but for the whole world."

A/N: As always, big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem for Beta Reading.