Mercifully, the game ends a little past eleven O'clock.

Drew's final bowl teeters on the edge of the lane before swaying drunkenly and tipping into the gutter. It's another disappointing throw in the game full of them for Drew. Ron look away from the end of the lane and over to Kim. Her face is blank, eyes wandering between the scoreboard and Shego. It's a rare defeat in a lifetime of glittering victories for Kim. Ron wonders if she's attempting to twist her face into something like that of a gracious loser. She'll be fine though; one lost bowling game won't even register next week. Nodding to himself, Ron looks away from the wreckage of Kim's momentarily shattered ego. He turns his eyes toward the woman he's partnered with in a victory for sidekicks, henchmen and henchwoman everywhere.

Though she's won, Shego's expression is remarkably similar to Kim's. Her lips are a thin and emotionless line. Her eyes are flittering between the scoreboard and all of the pins Drew has failed to topple. A beat passes, but then Shego's synapses begin to fire; an explosion followed by realization.

Team Shego - 505

Team Kim - 478

This day – though probably envisioned with more grandeur – has been a long time coming for Shego. Now that it's here, she doesn't even try to hold back. A primal scream of triumph, aged well through years of failure, tears past Shego's lips. It seems dramatic – it's only bowling, but even so Ron can empathise. After an entire high school career riddled with girls turning him down, he'd felt like exploding when Kim had said yes to a date with him.

Ron's still considering the thought when Shego barrels toward him, arms outstretched. She throws her arms around his neck and Ron feels his ribs crackle against her body. It's painful, seriously painful, but seeing Shego in casual clothes, expression delighted – he can't bring himself to pry her off.

Face flushed, Shego eventually lets go. Her good mood doesn't quite vanish though. Several times, Shego's palms batter Ron's shoulders amid her happy babbling. It doesn't hurt – not as much as her hugs – but Ron still has difficulty reconciling this Shego with the stern woman he's know for years. It's not that a little happiness looks bad on her green features. It's just that seeing Shego bounce on her heels with giddiness is incredibly surreal. Ron's been able to chip away at Shego's defences enough for the woman to crack a smile in the past, but this – this is foreign territory. Wonderingly, Ron shifts his eyes from Shego's face to her neck. There isn't any sign of a modulator as he'd suspected, but –

"Stoppable, my eyes are up here."

"Yeah, I know. I was just …" Ron's tongue is unreliable as ever and he finds himself looking incredibly guilty as a result. Faint lines of amusement work themselves into Shego's expression as Ron tries to recover. "You remember the modulator, right? I just thought that-"

"You thought that because I'm happy, my emotions were being manipulated?" Shego cuts in, eyebrows swooping low with signs of dangerous irritation. Ron swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. She hadn't been compromised, she'd been happy.

Straightening his back and scuppering together all of his leftover mission courage, Ron launches into an apology. "Shego I'm really sorry, but I've never seen you look like that. You were – I thought you were being manipulated and I swear I wasn't checking you out either. Well, I was … sort of. But I was only checking you out to make sure there wasn't anything resembling a modulator attached to your neck." Like a levy has broken, the words flood from Ron.

Shego blinks at his sudden outburst, eyebrows perking in bemusement. The resulting crease in the middle of her forehead is way too cute for a woman that has spend a good portion of her life trying to take over the world.

"I'm just – please don't kill me, but I just wanted to make sure you were really, genuinely happy and not – well, I don't mean to point fingers, but Drew has been a sore loser in the past. He might have … well, he probably didn't do anything, but I just wanted to be sure. I just wanted to be sure you were actually happy. 'Cause you know, you deserve it … and uh, stuff." Ron twists his hands, frets and finishes lamely.

At first, Shego just looks pole-axed. Her black hair is framing her face in waves; her fringe is hanging over her left eye. Ron's heart hammers against his ribs uncomfortably, manic at the possibility of having angered a woman infinitely more powerful than himself. He's beginning to feel slightly dizzy when a smile suddenly flits to Shego's blackened lips. It's as brilliant as it if brief. Shego quickly stifles the happiness on her face, squaring her shoulders and straightening her back. The image of her happiness – her happiness because of something he's done – is burned into Ron's mind. He knows he's grinning like a fool or a lunatic, because Shego rolls her eyes at him.

"Chill, Stoppable. I'm just happy. It's been known to happen, you know." She announces, folding her arms across her abdomen. The statement is acerbic as ever, but Ron – like a loon – just grins through it.

The gears in Ron's head are just beginning to crank with a retort when a hand latches onto his arm. He feels himself reeling backwards, he feels himself being tugged away from Shego. As he's careening backwards, Ron realises just how close he'd been standing to Shego. The whole time they'd been talking - the whole time he'd been bumbling through his words and blushing like a fool - Shego had been mere inches away from him. That she hadn't moved away feels significant, but Ron doesn't really have a chance to process everything before –

"Ron, do you think I could get a ride home?"

With a jolt, Ron freezes up. A clawing sensation at the back of his throat tells him exactly whom the voice belongs to. Until now, Kim had remained silent. She'd allowed him to bumble and blush and hug Shego. But now, well, Ron isn't really sure what will happen next.

"Yeah, of course KP." Ron says, turning to her slowly and cautiously. The cheery note he forces into his voice sounds off key and out of place. Mercifully, Kim doesn't show any outward signs of noticing though. She's too busy glaring at him and Shego and everything in the room. Her eyes are – her emerald eyes are blazing like Ron hasn't seen in years. Swallowing nervously, he continues. "I was just talking to Shego, is there any rush to -"

"Oh. Uh, Stoppable … I kind of have to get going." Shego cuts in, clapping Ron on the shoulder to bring his attention back to her. Her hand lingers for a short moment before lifting off again. Standing before him, Shego makes a big show of her nonchalance. A part of Ron – the part that's seen way too many cartoons – actually expects her to start whistling.

A low growl emanates from Kim and Ron wonders if she's recently suffered a blow to the head. He tilts his gaze in Kim's direction and briefly contemplates reminding her that they have in fact broken up. Before Kim and himself had dated, their dynamic had been so easy. There'd been no reformed villainesses and bouts of Amazonian jealousy. Ron presses his hand to his temple and rubs it. It feels like somebody has let off one of the Tweebs experiments inside of his head.

Ron is finally summoning a reply that he's fairly sure won't agitate either girl when another hand drops down on his shoulder. It doesn't linger because it settles. Ron's heart feels bruised and swollen as it settles in his throat.

"See Ron, we're all leaving." The airiness in Kim's voice fools nobody. The shard of possessiveness she tries to hide is stark and obvious within her tone. The apple in Ron's throat bobbles nervously. He can't help but feel like a steak in the midst of lions – or lionesses in this case.

"Yeah. So Stoppable…" Shego pauses, her light pink tongue darting out to wet her lips. She regards Ron firstly, but then her gaze settles on Kim and her expression turns to stone. "Actually, you know what? I'm just going to leave. I'll see you guys later."

The wave Shego gives them both is clunky – the word robotic comes to mind. Ron's brow furrows, but he suppresses the urge to say anything further to Shego. He suspects that their dynamic, though improving, is still fragile. Shego seems to clear the room in single stride, catching Drew's arm from where he'd been cowering. As Ron watches Shego wrestle the protesting man outside, he feels the grip on his shoulder tighten.

"Uh, KP. You're going to break the skin." Ron murmurs, looking down at his shoulder. The nails digging into him retract also instantaneously. He turns to the girl beside him and her eyes are wide with surprise.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry Ron!" Kim squeaks. Ron's eyes widen and he's tempted to take a step backwards. That voice – the one Kim's just used to apologised to him in – it's way too valley girl and way too little Kim.

"It's fine." Ron mumbles, less enthusiastically than he'd meant to. His eyes drift back to the door. A car races past, maybe it's Shego and Drew, maybe not.

With a slight incline of his head, Ron takes the unfamiliar role of leading Kim outside. Thankfully her hand doesn't find its way back to his shoulder as they leave. This whole night – well, the night since he'd had the genius idea to team up with Shego – has been awkweird. A small, but vocal part of Ron wants to ask Kim about why she'd freaked out a little bit over it. But another part of him - the part that remembers icing down aching muscles and tending to open wounds, knows the answer. Ron knows all too well that Kim hasn't quite forgotten all of the bruises and all of the burns she's felt at Shego's hands. He knows this because although he'd like to think he's forgiven her, Ron hasn't forgotten either. It's not that he's expecting a flaming orb of green flame to strike him down, it's just … every time he looks down in the morning he sees it. Every time he looks down at his chest, a line of molten skin stares back at him – Shego's handy work from several years ago stares back at him.

Silent, Ron and Kim trudge toward his car. It's a fairly modern Ford that his parents had given him for graduation. When they reach his car, Ron unlocks it without much fanfare and clambers into the driver's seat. Kim lingers to the side of where he'd been, arms wrapped around herself. It's all very bizarre, the way she's waiting there. Peering up at her through the window, Ron wonders if he is supposed to do something. He's winding the window down, a question perched on his lips, when Kim lurches into action. She crosses in front of his car, a shadow darting toward the passenger's seat. Ron watches as Kim opens the door, looming at its threshold for a brief and very odd moment. Her face – the one Ron's been able to read since first grade – is a closed book as she slides inside. Ron busies himself jabbing his key into the ignition and needlessly checking the position of his rear vision mirror. There's a dull click as Kim fastens her seatbelt and a sigh – mostly of relief – passes through Ron's lips. At least he can start driving now. It's not that he's afraid of looking at Kim; it's just that he doesn't know if he wants to make a second attempt at reading her emotions.

"Ron?" His name is a question as it comes off Kim's lips. It's small and hesitant, like whatever thought she'd had at the side of his car has grown roots and become something bigger. "Do you – is something happening between Shego and you?"

The question knocks the wind out Ron. His throat struggles to complete a dry swallow. There isn't any malice in Kim's voice and he doesn't feel as though he's on trial. It's just a question, nothing more and nothing less. He recalls a few nights ago. We're not fighting, she'd said. Glancing over at Kim, he's sure that they'd been at odds earlier in the night, but this – her current line of questioning – isn't a fight.

"I promise you, we're just friends, KP. You'll be the first to know if anything changes." Ron says, slowly and carefully.

Kim holds his gaze for a long moment, scrutinising him. It's a long, long silence. Eventually, much to Ron's relief, Kim drops back into her seat, curiosity apparently satisfied. Hands shaking the slightest bit, Ron cranks his car into gear and pulls out of the lot. There are a great many things Ron wants to say – things relating to Shego. Right now though, with the wounds of the night still ripped open, he doesn't think it's the right time. At one time he'd been certain that his future would lay with Kim – two and a half kids, a white picket fence, the whole nine yards. As it is now, Ron can't bring himself to settle on or disregard any one possibility for his future. Though he's not actively pursuing Shego, he'd be lying to Kim if he ruled it out entirely.

"Okay, Ron." Kim mumbles into her lap. Coming out of his thoughts, Ron briefly turns his eyes away from the road. His gaze only lingers on Kim for a second, but it's enough. Even as Ron stares at the median line of the road, her expression is burnt into his field of vision. Her emotions in the bowling alley had been about as legible as Arabic to Ron, but right now, he feels like he's got something of a grasp on what Kim is feeling.

"The thing with Shego and I is … I'm not like - I'm not planning on turning all Zorpox-y." The name tastes bitter on Ron's tongue and he pauses briefly. "Trust me. I'm just – I guess I can empathise with Shego, you know? The Attitudinator might have influenced me, but Shego is still going through some of the same things I did after being … uh, evil. She's trying, I'm pretty sure she's trying really hard to be good, but everyone is still looking at her like she's some psycho. I just … I know that it sort of blows."

Kim sits beside him in silence after that. She's silent all the way up until they roll to a stop at a red light. Ron turns his eyes to her. The shadows are long on Kim's face, making her look a little bit otherworldly. Coupled with her silence, Ron can't help but feel unnerved. His eyes flick back to the traffic lights on the other side of the intersection. They're about two blocks from Kim's house. Impatient and riddled with anxiety, Ron's thumb taps the steering wheel. He wills the light to turn green. Anything to escape this prison.

When the light finally does flash its signal for him to go, Ron stomps down on the accelerator with more force than is strictly necessary. Kim, surely enough, doesn't say a word.

"Ron, you know I love you." Kim says after an eternity. Her tone is scratchy and slightly condescending, much like a parent scolding its child. "But be careful, okay? Shego is … I know she's trying, but I still think she's bad news."

Ron fights the urge to roll his eyes. "Duly noted, KP. This is what I was just talking about, but I'll be on my guard." He can't quite resist the urge to slip that little barb into his retort.

Kim just stares at him, lips parted in shock. She's still gaping at him when the Possible home flashes into sight. Ron pulls up into the driveway without any incident. He's been doing it since he'd first learnt to drive. Tonight he can't help but feel a little sad at remembering that fact. Everything – his relationships with everyone around him, his place of education, his entire life – is shifting around him.

"I'll see you around Ron." Kim says, leaning to unbuckle her seatbelt. Her lips work themselves into a smile, but it's a hollow one. It doesn't reach her eyes and Ron winces.

As he watches Kim get out of his car, Ron mumbles his own farewell.

Kim backs off, watching Ron through the window as she ambles backwards. She takes one step, two steps and then slowly turns around. Ron's heart gives a slow, painful lurch. Every time he thinks that he's done mourning the smouldering corpse of his relationship with Kim, something like this reminds him that everything is different. They hadn't clicked as lovers - that had been obvious. Fully aware of these things, Ron isn't foolish enough to try taking back their break up. He doesn't want Kim to love him that way anymore, he'd settle for understanding and the love of a sister. Moments like this make him question everything though. They remind him of every time where Kim either hasn't heard him or can't bring herself to agree. Anything is possible for a Possible, except for compromise, Ron supposes. Raking his hands through his hair, Ron watches as Kim reaches into her handbag for her keys.

He sits there, numb, even as Kim shuts the door behind herself. It's the jarring electronic noise coming from his pocket that finally brings Ron back to reality. Shuffling in his seat, Ron pushes his hand into his pocket. The cell phone his parents have given him for college is fairly massive, but eventually he wrestles the clunky object free.

A message from Shego is blinking back at him.

'Sorry 4 jetting. Kimmie was freaking me out. You're a pretty good bowling partner, Stoppable. Lets ditch the other two next time we hang though.

And there it is - the conclusion to the least violent battle in Kim Possible history, plus some more stuff between Ron and Shego and Kim. What did you all think?

I've got a few ideas for the future of this fic, things should be picking up in terms of criminals and things soon. The relationships between Ron/Shego/Kim/Drew will still be the dominant feature, but some blood will be shed.

While I'm rattling on, I'd like to send extra massive shout outs to Razzle Jazzle and cybercorpsesnake for reading and reviewing both chapters so far. BartWLewis, KinZero and The Night Hunter, you guys are new to the party and hope you all stick around! Guests and followers ... you guys rule too =) Keep on commenting guys, it's the lifeblood of this story and I appreciate every word. This is unbeta'd so if you spot a specific error, call me on it so I can get rid of it haha.