Our story enters a new phase for our heroes--and a new style of telling for me. Instead of merely touching on the high points every few years, we will spend the next few chapters concentrating heavily on a short term, as we proceed toward what I hope will be a dramatic climax.

Just some explanatory notes: Rich's pre-Kim life: born in Japan; lost his mother to a terrorist gas attack; moved to Upperton & had a girlfriend, a captain of the cheer squad at Upperton High, Cynthia Larsen. The Leophone is like the Kimmunicator, or the Ronunicator.

The Kigo discussion between Kim and Rich? You'll have to wait for a future chpt. to see it's pertinance.

All the books Kim mentions are in the public domain. You can find their text at the Project Gutenberg website. The Fantasia movie was made by the Disney Studios--just like the Kim Possible show.

I thank Mrdrp for his private critique. It was very helpful. Will it deter me from the non-canon-character storyline? 'Fraid not. But I realized that I was giving short shrift to the Kim-Ron chemistry, & to Ron's role. I hope future chapters will mollify him--but anyone can give a positive review. It's the negative constructive reviews that prompt me to try harder--& indicate that I've touched a writer's nerve & not just someone who will tickle my vanity.

I thank shizizaam for his private review & remarks. I must confess: it does impart a warm glow to have caused such anticipation

Do I overdo the literary references? Can't help it. It's the Richard Harte in me.

Kim & Co. is Disney's. So is the Fantasia movie

TWO YEARS AFTER THE PROM

It would one day be spoken of as the Year of Yamanuchi.

Ron had reached a crucial point in his skill in the martial arts; the only way to learn more was to go to Yamanuchi itself, under the tutelage of the Sensei, the world's greatest Tai Sheng Pek War Master

Sensei was firm and unyielding in his conditions: Ron must spend a year at Yamanuchi, without interruptions, without distractions, without visitors--without Kim. They could talk together once a week, Ronnunicator to Kimmunicator. One visit every four months would be allowed. Only life-and-death circumstances would permit a breach of the rules.

Ron confided to Rich one night at Bueno Nacho. "I can't see any way around this, Bro. Kim and I are committed to missions together. She made me promise when we got engaged: marriage, kids, missions, careers; in that order. And I was happy to do it. But if I'm going to become the kind of partner that can watch her back, there's no alternative. I've got the whole 'Mystical Monkey' and 'Lotus Master' mojo. That's a lotta baggage. There's only one guy on the planet I could train under: Sensei. And if I don't do it now, when do I? After we're married? When Kim is pregnant? When I'm a parent?"

Rich nodded. "I would agree. Have you told Kim?"

Ron shook his head. "No--there's another sticky sitch. I know Kim would agree in theory, but the year apart--wow. I'm afraid she's gonna be a basket case."

"Kim has grown by leaps and bounds--just like you. I'm sure she could handle it."

"There's something I'm entrusting to you as my best friend. It's the most precious thing in my life: Kim's safety and safekeeping."

Rich smirked. "I thought you were going to mention Rufus. I'll go into debt if I have to buy all that cheese."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Ha, ha. Dude, you're so funny. Believe it or not, Sensei would allow Rufus to come. And I would consider it, if the little guy weren't so old."

Rich extended his hand. "Consider it done. My word as a knight--warrior to warrior--bound both by the code of the Bushido and the code of chivalry."

They clasped each other's forearms. Then, in the Bueno Nacho booth, they silently pantomimed their Goofballs And Dorks handshake--the high-fives, the low-fives, bumping the fists--without yelling the "Badical--Bodacious--Booyah!" There was something new, also

They clasped each other's right forearms. "The soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David..." began Ron.

"...And Jonathan loved David as his own soul," finished Rich. It was another ritual between two friends who were like brothers: reciting the Bible passage about the two closest friends in Scripture.

Easter and Passover were tinged with sadness that year for Team Possible and all their families. As usual, Kim and Ron observed both holidays. They attended Good Friday and Easter Sunrise services at Rich's church. Annette Possible had begun to attend soon after Rich and Daphne had joined Team Possible. The church was pastored by their father, Rev Leo Harte, the husband of her late patient and dear friend, Mariah Bess Harte. James Timothy Possible, the devout skeptic and good-natured husband sometimes attended with his wife.

Abe Stoppable held a great Pesach meal at the social hall of the synagogue that included members of the congregation, and the families of his son's dear friends, the Possibles, the Hartes, and the Loads. Wade dared to suppress his agoraphobic instincts and join in person. Rabbi Katz overlooked the presence of the goy guests at the Passover feast. Abe played the part of the patriarch at the feast. Wade played the part of the youngest and asked the Four Questions.

Ron's flight for Tokyo departed near sunset, Monday night the following week.

Kim wept inconsolably in Ron's arms before he boarded the plane at Tri-City Airport. "I d-don't know--if I can last--a-a whole year." She gulped her sobs and was able to maintain composure for a moment.

Tears streaked Ron's face, too. "K.P.--I'm starting to think better of this."

Kim shook her head. "N-no. This is right." Her arms tightened around Ron's neck one last time, as Ron lifted her off her feet one last time in his embrace. They kissed long and hard before he gently set her down again. Ron's parents Abe and Rachel Stoppable stood nearby, with Rich, and Rufus on Rich's shoulder. Commiseration was on all their faces.

Ron embraced dad and mom, not as long and hard as he had Kim, and kissed each on the cheek.

"Do good, Son."

"Love you, Dad. Take care of Mom."

"Oh, my boy! Make sure you eat enough! Do your laundry! Don't run out of clean socks and undies!"

"Love you, Mom. Take care of Dad."

He did a high-five with Rufus, finger to paw. "Be cool, lil' buddy. And don't complain so much when Mom feeds you the low-fat cheese spread."

Rufus hopped from Rich's shoulder, clung to Ron's shirt, and hugged his neck, sniffling noisily. Then he hopped back to Rich's shoulder, curled up, and wept.

Ron and Rich bear-hugged each other.

"Take care of the Team, Bro--and Kim."

"With my life. And don't go flirting with Yoriko. Kim will have my scalp instead of yours."

In the midst of his tears, Ron could barely keep from exploding in laughter. "Dude, you are seriously messed up!"

In the midst of his tears, Rich grinned. "I know."

They did the ritual, clasping each other's right forearms. "The soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David..." began Ron.

"...And Jonathan loved David as his own soul," finished Rich.

Kim and Ron walked slowly hand in hand to the boarding gate. They kissed and hugged yet another last time.

"I'll write every day!"

"Me too! And we'll talk Sunday afternoons, Middleton time--that'll be like Monday morning, Yamanuchi time."

"I'll see you at your birthday..."

"...And at your birthday..."

"...And at Christmas!" The visits had already been worked out. Kim had been willing to let Ron's parents come on the visits, but they wouldn't hear of it. The occasions they picked for her visits were obvious choices.

They stretched their arms as far as they could reached, at last breaking their grip as Ron walked sadly down the boarding ramp. Kim stood for a moment, turned, and ran to Mom and Dad Stoppable's arms.

All watched through the window as the plane lifted off from the runway, and waved. Kim turned and huddled under Rich's arm. "My heart is in your hands, Richard Harte. If you don't get me though this year in one piece, I will be so tweaked."

Abe and Rachel took their leave of Kim and Rich. In the car ride from the airport, Kim posed a question. "Rich, if you were missing the love of your life and knew that you wouldn't see them for a year, what would you do to try and feel better?"

Rich thought for a moment. "I would go to my favorite spot: up on Mount Middleton where it overlooks the city. The lights at night are beautiful."

"That's really good," said Kim dryly, "But that's our spot, too. Ron proposed to me there." She flashed her diamond. "Plus, that's where we go to--um--make out?"

Rich smiled. "Ah, yes, I remember him telling me. So if you want to go somewhere that didn't remind you of Ron--"

"That so wouldn't be the place. If you don't mind my asking, why is it you go there--aside from the fact that it's so beautiful?"

"Well, that's quite a story. Dad took me there the day Cyndi Larsen broke up with me."

"Oh, Rich--that's so sad. But weren't you guys living in Upperton at the time? Why come all the way to humble little Middleton when there just as many places to look out on the lights up there?

Rich's eyes twinkled with glee. He loved nothing better than to tell an old reminiscence. "Well, that's the interesting part. Of course Cyndi and I spent a lot of time together at the scenic lookouts. Her parents' house was up there. And we did our share of--making out--at least as much as I could get away with, being a minister's kid and a high school freshman at the time. But here's the story..."

While we were growing up in Japan, we lived in this little village, Kenjijen. It had farms and several dozen homes--a very small town. But it was located in the valley, and on starry nights Dad would take all of us up there to see the stars in the sky, the moon, if it was out, and the lights down in the village. We would light candles and sing songs. Sometimes we would even lie under the open sky in our sleeping bags. Dad told Daphne and me the story of how he proposed to Mom on the mountain overlooking her home town back here in Colorado.

Naturally we thought he meant the mountains by Upperton, because that's were he grew up, and that's where we moved to after Mom died. So walking with Cyndi helped me connect with where I grew up, and with where I thought my folks got engaged.

But there was kind of a problem with visiting the mountain lookouts in Upperton. While Mom and Dad were away in Japan being missionaries and church-planters, Upperton had a real estate boom--something like Aspen. So all those mountain trails Dad used to hike when he was little now had multimillion dollar homes sitting on them. And the owners would just as soon call the cops or let the dogs loose to chase off the trespassers. The Larsen's, of course, were one of those homeowners. So after Cyndi and I broke up, my access to that spot was gone--besides, I thought, why would I want to go back to a place that reminded me of her?

That's when Dad told me the story. It wasn't at Mt. Upperton that my folks got engaged. It was at Mt. Middleton--overlooking the town where Mom grew up.

"...So now you know the rest of the story."

"Rich--that's really beautiful--why haven't I heard this story before?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure. I just never thought of telling you."

Kim pretended to look grumpy. "Well it's not fair. We've been friends for two years and you know everything about me, and I'm still discovering all your little secrets."

"Kismet--be fair. You and Ron are world-famous--your own website and everything--your own made-for-TV movie. Wade and Ron even tell me how your mom broadcasts your phone calls to her over the public address while she's doing surgery. Your brothers post your diary on their own webpage." Kim rolled her eyes and Rich started to laugh. "Face it, my dear--your life is an open book!"

"You have a point. Still--don't you tell any of your private stuff to Ron?"

"That depends. Ron has mentioned that Mt. Middleton is you guys' special spot, and I've mentioned that it's my spot. But where someone's parents get engaged--that's not something guys necessarily talk about."

"Rich--let's go! I want to see your spot. I want to see if it's the same place as Ron and my spot. I want to go somewhere that reminds me of Ron--even if it makes me cry."

And so they found themselves seated at the edge of the steep drop at the scenic lookout, their legs dangling.

"Well--who would've guessed? My parents and my best friends hook up at the same place. Do you know where your folks got engaged?"

"Not around here. Daddy's family is from Middleton but Mom isn't from around here."

For a while they looked on the stars and the lights of Middleton.

"Rich?"

"Yes, Kim?"

"Does being up here help you reconnect with your mother?"

"Yes, it does. In a way, I can almost feel like I'm back in Kenjijen."

"Can I ask--do you ever miss Cyndi?"

"A little--less and less as time goes by. I've found something very fulfilling: life as a member of Team Possible. Team Harte was useful, but all we did was keep track of the villains. I never got to help people directly. And the ironic part is, Daphne was so insistent that we come out from under cover--and now she's the one who's doing things behind the scenes with Wade. What you and Ron get to do--somebody says 'Thank you, Kim Possible for saving our family--city--country'--whatever, and you get to say "Aw shucks, it was no big.'--"

Kim nudged him. "Now you're making fun of me."

Rich nudged her back. "Am not--well, maybe a little."

"Besides, if there's anyone in my family who says 'Aw shucks', it's Uncle Slim."

"You see my point, though. It's the missions; like you and Ron want to do missions even as a married couple. I want to, too--"

"Oh really," Kim drawled. "And who would you marry?"

Rich shook his head resignedly. "I'm trapped--I walked right into that one. Now you're making fun of me."

Kim smiled slyly. "Yes, I am. And I happen to know someone who thinks you're a hottie--now that Ron is spoken for."

"I'm afraid to ask: who?"

"My cousin Joss; she has pictures of you all over her room."

He groaned. "She's also barely a teen-ager. She's younger than your brothers." He looked out of the corner of his eye. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"I am so enjoying this! Every minute of it. This is payback for embarrassing me."

"Embarrassing you? Possible, you're crazy! When did I embarrass you?"

"Every time you and Ron dressed up for your 'Goofballs And Dorks' club! Parkas in summer! Grass skirts in winter!"

Rich had opened his mouth to speak but then smiled widely. "Yes. I admit it."

"I wanted to put a sack over my head every time you two pulled one of your stunts."

Rich laughed; not a loud guffaw, but a clear merry sound that carried through the night air. "I'm sorry, Kim--the mental picture of a paper bag on your head."

Kim leaned over and started to tickle his ribs. "Ohh!" You exasperate me! You and Ron both!"

He grabbed her wrists. "Hey, be careful!" It's a long drop off this cliff!"

They playfully wrestled for a moment, then that activity seemed to drift off.

"Rich?"

"Kim?"

"You still plan on doing missions while Ron is gone, don't you?"

"Hah! Try and stop me!" And both the Kimmunicator and Team Harte communicator (Rich called it the Leophone) sounded.

"What's the sitch, Wade?" asked Kim.

"Kim, there's a hit on your website," Wade told her.

"Just a minute, Wade. Rich, did you bring your mission suit?"

"In my backpack. Did your bring yours?"

"Of course! Okay, Wade, continue the sitch."

"Kim, the Middleton Museum sent along this footage from a security cam."

The footage showed three people in trenchcoats and wide-brimmed hats pulled down low. They somehow looked out of the ordinary, in the lobby of the museum. One was tall, in a blue trench coat, with a black ponytail hanging out from the back of his hat. This skin of his chin was blue. The other was female, shorter, about Kim's height, with greenish skin. The third was very short, with a goatee.

Rich looked on his own screen and smirked. "I wonder who these suspicious-looking characters are."

Kim looked up at him and smiled also. "They look pretty conspicuous, don't they? Wade, freeze frame."

Wade did. The crowd in the museum stood still, and three were in plain view, looking nervously about.

"Wade, overlay the screen with images of Dr. Drakken, Shego, and Prof. Dementor. Compare for similarities in height, weight, visible facial features, and bodily configuration of our three suspects."

Wade did so. All three chuckled. "It's a no-brainer, Kim. They may as well have worn their own clothing. I suppose Drakken and Shego don't attract attention just because they're seen around Middleton all the time."

Kim smiled as she had not smiled yet that day. Forgotten for a moment that her love would be out of the country for a year. "Okay, guys, brainstorm time--or maybe it's another no-brainer. Why are these three trying so hard to blend in?"

"Well, the last time they were in the museum, Drakken was trying to finish the robbery of the energy generating device that his great-grandfather had started at the Middleton World Exposition about a hundred years ago," said Wade. "And since the device blew up--"

"--Almost resulting in his premature demise--which you prevented," broke in Rich.

"--I would have to say that he's after the plans for the device," continued Wade, "And Dementor's along to help him rebuild it--"

"--because Shego doesn't trust him to get it right," finished Kim. "God, you guys, I'm proud of us! We are so like Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson--and I even mentioned the famous fictional characters before Rich did!"

"Possible--are you being sarcastic?" asked Rich wryly.

"And what if I am--Harte?" answered Kim saucily.

"Guys--Middleton Museum--website hit--suspicious characters; Drakken usually pulls his jobs this time of night," Wade reminded them.

"Sorry, Wade, you're right. We're on our way. And as usual--you rock," said Kim.

"Superlative performance, as usual, Wade," said Rich.

"'Superlative performance'?" asked Kim archly as Wade tuned out. "Still allergic to slang, are we? Wanting to sound like you read the dictionary for fun?"

Rich shrugged. "Of course! Doesn't everyone?"

Kim rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Prof, let's get dressed."

Rich changed into his mission suit behind a boulder, and Kim changed into hers in the car. In moments, they were on their way.

"Let's decide strategy," said Kim. "How should we play this?"

Rich thought. "Well, you usually make the dramatic entrance, Drakken whines, and then Shego tries to mop the floor with you--failing miserably, thank heavens. Dementor adds an element of risk. Drakken consistently has a death ray, but Dementor's weapons actually show some imaginativeness. I think one of us should make the dramatic frontal appearance, distracting their attention--and the other should come up from behind and throw them off guard."

Kim smiled. "Richard Harte, you're looking forward to this, aren't you? You tweak Shego so badly when you quote Shakespeare during a fight."

Rich smiled. "I do, don't I. Being a nerd has its rewards."

As they left the car, Kim took a scunchie out her pocket and put her hair up in a ponytail. "Just a precaution--playing a hunch."

As silent and furtively as cats they crossed the museum lawn. They drew their cable guns and fired their cables. And as sinuous as cats climbing a tree, they scaled the building to the roof. Once there, Kim regarded Rich intently.

He finally asked, "What is it?"

She shrugged. "Oh, it's nothing. You've been in Team Possible for several years now, and I still find it strange when my partner's pants don't fall down, or fly off him when he uses the grapple gun."

Rich shrugged. "Well, I can fix that." And he unbuckled his belt.

"No!" squeaked Kim frantically. "Ron Stoppable! If you clown around while we're on a mission, I will be so tweaked--!" Kim's eyes widened and she clapped her hand over mouth. "Omigod! I called you 'Ron'! Richard Harte! Stop messing with my head! I know what you're trying to do!"

"Okay--what am I trying to do--besides trying to capture our three lawbreakers?"

"You're trying to keep me from getting bummed about missing Ron. Now c'mon! Get serious! Head in the game!"

But Rich was already grinning, the light reflecting off his glasses. "Yes, ma'am. Head in the game."

They found an open skylight and dropped through. Noiselessly they strode through the corridors. Kim held up her hand, and they halted. She put a finger to her lips to indicate silence, and Rich nodded. This was battle mode. By mutual agreement of all Team Possible members, Kim called the shots. Her commands while they were silent were obeyed without question. She pulled out her Kimmunicator, hit a button, and activated the noise detection mechanism. A little radar-like reception dish popped out. An arrow appeared on the screen indicating direction of a sound source. A numerical readout appeared, minus twenty-four indicating a distance of about thee stories below. They resumed their stealthy progress--down the stairwell, down to the corridor.

As they approached the lower levels of the building, noises were heard. At last they reached the lowest level.

It was the great repository of the museum. There were storage bins, wooden crates, cardboard boxes, file cabinets, and old display cases. Kim and Rich crawled behind the boxes.

Sure enough. Drakken, Shego, and Dementor were rummaging in the room. Shego was methodically rifling through a file cabinet, folder by folder. Drakken and Dementor were moving crates.

"Dr. D--are you sure we're gonna find the plans? After all, it's been a hundred years. And I'm sure the curators have figured out what we were after that time. They've probably got the plans in a safe," said Shego wearily.

"Then we'll go safe-cracking," snapped Drakken. "I'm sure you're as good at that as you are at insulting my intelligence." He puttered among the crates. "Come and help me, Demenz."

Dementor seethed.

Shego groaned. "Oh, Dr. D..."

"I am a pr-r-rofessional villain, Dr-r-rakken. Und I demand pr-r-rofessional courtesy. You will addr-r-ress me by my pr-r-roper name, or I will addr-r-ress you as 'Lipsky'--Lipsky!"

"You strudel with a goatee! I should punch your lights out!"

"Vat? Punch me out? Vit dose little hands? You blueberry pie vit a ponytail!"

They tried to grab each other and ended up slapping each other's hands.

Shego forced her way between them and held up both hands. "You guys! You promised to play nice! Listen up! Remember the plan! We all look for the schematics for the device like civilized human beings. Dr D., you get to have an energy source for all the death rays you want--a machine that works--a machine that won't electrocute you. Prof. Dementor, you get to have an energy source that can run the strongest villain light you have. You get bragging rights. 'Respect me! I'm not just the short twerp with the bad accent! I helped Dr. Drakken!' "

"Mien gute! Do I really haff a bad accent?" asked Dementor in a hurt voice.

"Yes! You twerp with the soup kettle for a hat!" interjected Drakken.

"Qviet! You vit der shmall hands!" returned Dementor. They started slapping each other's hands again.

God! thought Shego, what a girly way to fight! What a couple of girly men. She almost wished for the Princess to show up--or even the SideKick. Just keep those two Preacher's Kids away--Art Boy and Little Miss Prim, as she referred to Richard and Daphne Harte--those little four-eyed Good Two Shoes!

Daphne reminded Shego of herself back in the Team Go days--a Pixie Girl with glasses. All that was missing were the pigtails. An expression of total disgust settled on her face.

But Richard Harte--argh. He reminded Shego of her older brother--Hego. Heronymus Percival Go--God! The same platitudes! The same Boy Scout devotion to duty to God and country! And the glasses! The shock of dark hair. The square shoulders. The Noble Chin. It drove her berserk.

Shego's fingers involuntarily morphed into claws. Her hands curled into fists and dripped with glowing green plasma.

"You three are here past closing," a voice said.

Drakken and Dementor jumped into each other's arms

And Shego, who did not believe in God, felt like it was an answer to prayer. Her face lit up as she turned to face Kim. "Aw, Princess, I'm sad for you. Are you feeling kinda lonely without Sidekick Boyfriend? I heard he left on a Tokyo-bound flight yesterday."

Kim flipped her hair back with a brush of her hand and a toss of her head. (Both Ron and Rich never tired of watching it.) "Nope," she answered calmly, "I've got help."

"Who?" Shego asked sarcastically, "The naked mole rat?"

"Vat is dis naket mole r-r-rat?" asked Dementor, confused.

Drakken nudged him. "You know! The pink animal--lives in the Buffoon's pocket--mousetrap bait!"

Dementor brightened. "Ah! Der famous R-r-roofus!"

It was Rich's turn. "Naked we came into this world and naked we must leave."

The three villains jumped at the sound.

"That voice! I know that voice!" snarled Shego.

Drakken trembled. "Isn't what they say as funerals?"

"Funeral? Is dere a funeral?" asked Dementor, puzzled.

"Adam and Eve were naked and they were not ashamed." intoned Rich piously.

"I knew it! It's Art Boy! Where are you, you miserable nerd?" growled Shego, her hands igniting.

"What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Shego is the sun--"

"Shakespeare! I hate Shakespeare! You freaking nerd! I'll break your window!" Shego spun, firing volley after volley of green fireballs in all directions.

"Shego! Have you gone insane?!" screamed Drakken.

"Ach! Mien Gute!" squealed Dementor.

Shego glowered. "Damn! I hate Shakespeare!"

Kim dodged the volley. Was this a good idea after all, she thought grimly. "Rich!" she called out.

"Come on, Princess! Don't worry about Art Boy! Let's get it on!" snarled Shego.

She leapt at Kim and the two began their traditional sparring and jabbing. Thrust, parry, kick, dodge, and spin.

Drakken and Dementor both drew ray gun--looking firearms and aimed, trying to get a bead on Kim. Rich noticed. Dementor was on Drakken's right. Of course! This was perfect! Dementor was left-handed. Their weapons practically touched. Rich drew his grapple gun, aimed and fired. The cable would around both their gun barrels, binding them together. The two tugged and struggled.

"Let go!" shouted Drakken.

"No! You let go!" shouted Dementor

Drakken, the taller of the two, tried to lift his arm and hold the two weapons beyond Dementor's reach. He pointed his gun at the ceiling and inadvertently fired. Drywall and plaster rained down on all of them.

Rich crouched on the floor and covered his head with his arms. When the dust cleared, no one was visible. Those three jailbirds, he couldn't care less. But his partner--"Kim! Kim!"

He heard a throaty chuckle behind him. He had been careless.

"You can turn around, Art Boy," gloated Shego, a mad light shining in her eyes. "You can even try backflipping out of range--or drawing a weapon--or whatever. But you're toast. I'm going to turn you into a green Tiki torch." A monstrous fireball was materializing around both her hands.

"Hey, Shego!" barked a voice off to the side

Both Shego and Rich turned in surprise. Kim had pulled her scrunchie out of her hair, and drawn it back, like a bow. She aimed and released it. It snapped Shego in her eye.

Shego staggered back, blinking. She lifted her arms, and the fireball launched into the ceiling. Another avalanche of plaster fell, burying her.

Kim and Rich ran to each other and grasped each other's hands.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes--are you?"

"I was afraid Shego fried you."

"Same here."

Each squeezed the other's hands reassuringly. Then they dug the villains, who were out cold, out of the plaster.

The police arrived, and the Drakken and Dementor found themselves in handcuffs. Shego found herself in the special handcuff mittens that shielded her plasma.

The head curator arrived and took swift inventory of the contents of the room. "It appears that among other things, the plans for the device they were after are burned to a crisp," he said laconically.

"Nitwit!" shouted Drakken to Dementor.

"Dumbkopf!" shouted Dementor to Drakken.

"Put a sock in it--both of you!" shouted Shego.

The officer in charge shook Kim and Rich's hands. "Thank you both."

"Oh--it was no big," said Kim, characteristically modest.

"But," questioned the officer, "When did Mr. Stoppable start wearing glasses? And where's Rufus?"

"Rufus has the night off," said Rich smiling. He whispered to Kim. "At least somebody remembered Ron's name. Too bad he wasn't here." He glanced at the villains. "All's well that ends well, eh, you guys?"

"Y'know, Art-boy," Shego growled, "Someday when you've got your mouth full of 'thee's, thou's, and therefore's', one of my fireballs is actually gonna connect--and then you can try swallowing that!"

"Y'know, Shego," Rich shot back, "It's your temper. You need to slow down--take aim--in other words, Haste makes waste! That's a quote, by the way--"

"Quote this, bookworm!" interrupted Shego, thrusting up a middle finger.

"--A quote from Ben Franklin!" finished Rich.

"You freak! You Poindexter! You know-it-all! So help me, I hate you!" screamed Shego.

"Y'know what else? That quote is taken from Poor Richard's Almanac!"

"Up yours!!" bellowed Shego, as the paddy wagon door slammed shut.

"Rich, I know how you love beating Shego in a battle of wits. And I know I don't have your gift of proverbs. But--isn't there something about a caged animal being twice as dangerous?" cautioned Kim.

"Actually, the proverb you're thinking of refers to a wounded or cornered animal."

"Well, Prof," said Kim with a smirk, "I stand corrected."

"In addition, there's method to my madness. Dementor is an obsessive 'peace and quiet' personality. My hope is that he'll get such a dose of Drakken's and Shego's bickering, locked up with them, he'll never be their partner again."

"Unless it reinforces their mutual hatred of Team Possible--and they plan revenge when they get out of jail."

"Kim--seriously, can you ever see those three as a genuine threat? They hardly get along while committing a simple heist."

Kim raised an eyebrow and looked sideways at Rich. "I remember the time when I hardly got along with you. And as for serious threat, remember: Drakken was one very dangerous threat once he had a good scheme, involving Daddy's cybertronic technology, Nakasumi's toy design, and my crush on pretty boys."

Rich was about to quote the poet Robert Burns ("The best-laid schemes of mice and men...") but he held his peace, spread his arms, and said, "The lovely lady has defeated me in a battle of wits."

"Really?" said Kim brightly. "You're giving up without a struggle?"

"Absolutely. Unconditional surrender."

Kim and Rich rinsed the plaster dust out of their hair in the museum restrooms and changed out of their dust-covered mission suits.

"Well, mission accomplished. What now, partner?"

Rich glanced at his wrist watch. "Want to see the sun rise?"

"You drive. I'm beat."

As they walked to the car, Kim broached a topic. "Rich? Can we talk?"

"Yes, my Kismet."

"It's about a certain sitch--."

"I'm all ears."

"--You and Shego."

"Shego? There's nothing between us but naked enmity."

"That's what I mean. She hates you. She tolerates Ron. And there seems to be this chemistry between her and me."

"I know. The tabloids make it out to be some kind of sexual tension between you two."

"Tell me about it! Us a couple! They call it 'Kigo'--like 'Kim' and 'Shego'! That co-host on the morning talk show keeps urging me to come out of the closet. She claims I'm in self denial when it comes to my engagement to Ron."

"I've read her blog. She accuses you of gay-bashing and bias by omission because you're refusing to out yourself."

Kim shook her head. "Some people."

And the conversation drifted.

"Rich?"

"Yes, Kim."

"I don't want to tweak you, but what I was saying. For some reason you just tweak her completely. Now, I'm flattered to death that you're taking care of me, and I love having you wait on me hand and foot for the next twelve months--." She took both his hands. "--But please--" Her eyes became big and her voice became quiet. "--Please, please, please. Take care of yourself. Don't antagonize Shego. How would I explain to Ron that I let his 'Bro' get incinerated?"

Slowly a half-smile stole over Rich's face. "As my Kismet commands."

"And you gotta tell me what that nickname's all about!"

"Kim, it's no big. It sounds like your name and it's Arabic for 'Destiny'."

Kim frowned. "But there's a secret behind the secret--Ricky!"

"Hey! Now that's unfair! I put up with that name from my sister!"

"Stop it! Don't you tickle me!"

In a short time, Kim and Rich were parked on the scenic turnout that faced east on Mt. Middleton.

"Rich, I want to grow this year--while Ron is away. I wan to learn everything I can about art: music, books, painting... I want you to teach me everything you know. I'm putting myself into your capable hands."

Rich smiled and a sly glint came into his eye. "My dear young lady, do you know what you're asking? Shall I become your Svengali? Your Simon Legree?"

Kim shot him a glance. "Now you're making me nervous. Both those names sound familiar. I think they're famous bad guys, or control freaks, or something. Let me back up. I don't want to compose a symphony or write a book. I just want to recognize classical music when I hear it, or a famous author's name or the book title when I hear it."

"Well, let's start out small. What's you favorite composer and-or piece of music?"

Kim sighed. "This is so embarrassing. I don't even know the name of it. I saw that Disney movie years ago--'Fantasia'--and I fell in love with that part about the centaurs and the flying horses."

"Ah, Beethoven's Sixth Symphony; the Pastoral."

"There! That's what I want to do--just toss off the name like it's no big!"

Rich pulled out his own Kimmunicator--or Leophone, as he called it, and set it on the dashboard. "There, just a second and we'll punch up the music."

"I should have guessed," Kim said. "You've got all your music in MP3."

The listened together to the majestic strains of Beethoven's Pastoral. Kim yawned. "Oh, Rich--I'm sorry--it's been a long day, and I've been on an emotional roller coaster. I'm sure I'd be a basket case if you weren't around."

"Do you want me to turn the volume down?"

"No--I love it--it's so awesome." Kim's eyelids began to droop. She pillowed her head on Rich's shoulder. "--If you don't mind."

"It's kinda bony," Rich replied.

"No...it's fine...it's a good sturdy shoulder..."

And as the sun chariot of Apollo slipped under the horizon in the symphony, the real sun broke unto view.

"Oh, Rich...it's so beautiful...Rich?"

"Hm?"

'You've got classes today, don't you?"

"Yeah, in the morning. And I'm scheduled to work from noon to eight. And I'm scheduled to cover for Daphne at the church's Helpline tonight."

"Your patient care assistant job at the Medical Center post-op recovery unit?"

"Yep. The very one."

Kim groaned. "How do you do it? I'm exhausted! I have classes, too, and then Dad wants me to do some temp work at his office this afternoon--but I'm thinking of playing hooky." She covered her mouth as she yawned. "When I was in high school, I could pull an all-night mission with Ron, do my homework while flying transatlantic, grab some coffee at my folk's, and be good to go for the school day." She yawned again and stretched. "Must be getting old."

Rich smirked. "Yeah, you're not even twenty-one and you're getting old and arthritic. I can even see some gray strands in your hair."

Kim jabbed him in the ribs. "Hey, Mister Bifocal, I'm not the one who's wearing bottle-cap glasses."

Rich jabbed her arm. "Hey yourself. You know that these are just reading glasses. I only wear them to score with the elderly ladies I take of at the hospital." And they both laughed.

Kim snuggled closer to Rich. "I don't suppose I could talk you into playing hooky with me?"

"You sorely tempt me, but being a pastor's kid has made me too conscientious."

"And to think--I used to bug Ron when he would skip class. I guess you're entitled to bug me if you felt like it."

"Don't worry. Daphne is more of a dot-the-i-and-cross-the-t person than the rest of us put together. If I played hooky, she would be all over my case."

Kim's eyelids felt heavy and she began to blink. "Rich?"

"Hm?"

It's been almost a whole since day Ron left. Thank you for being there for me--for getting me through this first day."

"You're welcome, my Kismet. It's been my pleasure. Just three-hundred-sixty-four-or-so more to go."

"I so like being up here--let's do this again tonight--oh, Rich--the sunrise--it's so beautiful...!" But Kim's eyes were closed before she could complete the sentence.

She was still leaning on Rich's shoulder. Moving carefully, he reached across with his left hand and brushed a lock of the red hair from her face. He gently kissed her forehead. The serene beauty of that face surpassed the glory of the sunrise. Rich whispered to Kim the words of Romeo to Juliet. "Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, and peace in thy breast."

Many hours later, as the sun was setting, Kim was entering her parents' home. She set her backpack on the floor and collapsed wearily on the sofa. The phone rang and she picked up. "Hello, Possible residence," she said absently.

"Bon jour, mon cherie." Good day, my beloved.

Kim smiled. Only two people ever did that, greeting her in French: Ron, because he loved calling her "Mon cherie", and Rich, because he loved talking to her in French. Those two clowns, she thought fondly; doing the exact same things for different reasons.

"I'm sorry, sir. You must have the wrong number. I'm sure we've never met. I'm engaged, and I have no intention of talking to unknown men who are trying to hit on me."

"¡Senorita, nunca! ¡Por favor! ¡Mis intenciones son puras y honorables!" Now it was Spanish Miss, never! Please! My intentions are pure and honorable!

Kim's weariness was gone. She could hardly talk without laughing. "Whoever you are, I don't flirt with foreign men! Now I demand that you stop harassing me!"

"Foreign? Miss Possible, Ah'm as American as a naked mole rat. An' ma-am, mah intentions are still honorable." Now it was a country-western accent.

Kim could not suppress her giggles any longer. "Rich! You dork! What are you up to?"

"Well--I'm here at the Helpline switchboard ready to aid any desperate soul that needs to talk to someone--but no one is that desperate tonight. And then I remembered that someone wanted to take a drive up to Mt. Middleton tonight--if she's not too tired from going to class and then to work."

"Wait a minute--how did you know I didn't play hooky today?"

"I saw your mom at the Medical Center. She had a couple surgeries today. She told me you were up before the rest of the family. You must have hardly slept after I dropped you off this morning."

"Well, that's your fault, Mister Pastor's Kid! You made me feel guilty about skipping class and work!"

"Good! I'm glad I'm a positive influence. I'm almost done at Helpline. I'll be over in a couple minutes."

"I'll be ready."

Kim hung up. The thought of another evening with Rich made her feel so warm and happy. She felt a sense of fulfillment, also.

For the longest time, a couple years after Rich and Daphne had moved to Middleton, Kim had hardly known them--or she had listened to the Food Chain about who the right people were to hang with. Well, the Junior Prom had changed all that. Both Ron and Rich had tried to come between her and Erik. She had interpreted Ron's motives as childish jealousy and fear of losing her friendship. She couldn't see past his Bueno Nacho petition. She had interpreted Rich's motives as something much darker: fundamentalist religious bias against Erik, narrow-minded anti-Jewish prejudice against Ron. Kim was going to the Prom with Erik, and that was that.

But being almost-electrocuted in your boyfriend's arms can be a wake-up call. Kim swallowed her pride, took up with Ron, and never looked back.

Ron and Rich hit it off like long-lost brothers. Kim almost "jelled" ("So not!" she would insist) at the ease with which the two young men bonded. Ron and she had bonded like that years before at the ABC Preschool--but then the Food Chain would come between them.

There was the early disquiet she felt around Rich and his sister Daphne, the disquiet and distrust she had of people looked like they obsessed about church and religion, and the suspicion of people who didn't conform to the ways of the Food Chain.

There was the resentment when Rich tried to "interfere" between her and Erik Drake. And most of all, there was the shock when she discovered that Rich and Daphne did missions, just as Ron and Kim had done.

But still waters ran deep, and under the quiet exterior of Richard Harte was a soul of ocean depth. Kim felt drawn to him. She wanted to explore the mind and heart of this young man who looked so like a dork on the surface but was so profound.

At first, she had construed these feelings for Rich as romantic--and had given in to that impulse following a violent falling-out with Ron on the London Undercover Mission.

But at last she understood: it was pure friendship, not romance. Kim was desperately afraid that she had blasted to pieces any hope of friendship when Rich left London suddenly after she and Ron reconciled. But when she returned to Middleton and cautiously tried to talk to him, he responded, in his quiet and gentle way. They took up their friendship as though the disastrous almost-romance had never happened.

Rich was letting her in, slowly and gradually, to the intimate recesses of his mind and heart. And that was fulfilling.

There was still time to send an e-mail to Yamanuchi.

Dear Ron:

Oh, hon, how I miss you! I want to grab a jet and fly to Japan!

Rufus has decided he wants to spend all his time over here at my parent's house. He's either sleeping or playing Everlot online. Mom and Dad let him have the run of the house--even the kitchen. He made Mom and me cheese omelet for breakfast. It's so cute. He wears that little chef's hat and apron when he cooks, and then wears the little waiter's uniform, with the white shirt, tux jacket, and bow tie, when he serves us. I can hardly believe he can handle a human-sized pan and spatula. I'm so proud of him. Sometimes I feel like a parent--OMG, listen to me! You'd better come home next year ready to wear a tux yourself, my husband-to-be--cuz we're gonna git hitched and make babies, like Uncle Slim would say.

What you said to Rich at the boarding gate has been so true. Having him around has helped me from overboarding emotionally. We've gone on a mission already. Drakken and Shego broke into the museum last night--with Dementor! You can check the mission log at my website. He's been telling me stories from his younger days in Japan. I can see why you and he became best friends after our two teams hooked up. He's such a neat guy.

I misjudged him so badly during high school. He helped me see what--and who--I would have lost when we were in London.

Have I said I miss you? Have I said I want your body? Grrr! If you were a naco lollipop, I could so lick you!

XXX. That's me kissing you! That's the X-rated pictures of you in my head! Can't wait for my birthday! I'll fly to Yamanuchi in your blaster briefs if I have to.

Hi to Sensei and Hirotaka. Tell Yori--uh--nope--not the jell--not from me.

OMG, my thoughts. I'm a baaad little girl. And I'm gonna have baaad dreams of you tonight.

love,

Kim

The doorbell rang as she hit the "send" button. Rich was at the door. Tousled brown hair. Wire rim glasses. Warm smile. He offered her his arm as they walked to his car. He held the passenger door open. It was typical Rich--or typical Ron--sometimes it was hard to tell the difference

On the way, Rich told her. "Last night was music appreciation. Tonight is literature appreciation. Now, what's your favorite book?"

Kim batted her eyes and spoke in a southern accent. "Mistah Harte, don't y'all know what lil' me likes to read? It's next season's Club Banana catalogue!"

Rich rolled his eyes. "Okay, I deserved that--my multilingual phone call earlier tonight."

Kim giggled. "You bet you deserved it! But since it's you that asked, I'm assuming you mean serious literature." She halted for a moment and smiled bashfully. "I have to confess: I've seen more movies about classical literature than actually reading the books. But I so want to read those books. I like the old English romantic stories: 'Wuthering Heights', 'Pride and Prejudice', 'Great Expectations', 'Little Women',--."

Rich gave Kim the "time-out" signal. "Whoa, that's quite a wish list. Let's see: Charlotte Bronte, Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, Louisa May Alcott--umm, would I sound like a know-it-all if I told you that the author of 'Little Women', Louisa May Alcott, was an American?"

"No," said Kim, "You wouldn't. Don't worry, Rich, and don't think I'm going to be embarrassed about showing off my ignorance. I trust you. I know you won't put me down."

"Thanks, Kim. I'll try to live up to your trust. Now--how would you like to study our first book? We could listen to an audiobook narration--or a dramatization, like a play--or we could even read the book ourselves off the Leophone and Kimmunicator screens. I have text files I could download to the Kimmunicator."

"Rich--now it's my turn to say 'Whoa'. Are you telling me you have all this stuff on your Leophone? That's like people storing the Library of Congress on their Ipod."

Rich looked as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Well--of course. Don't people do that?" He saw Kim's look of doubt and hastily reassured her. "Don't worry. We won't overdo it."

They ended up reading alternate chapters of "Pride and Prejudice". It was well past midnight when Rich called a halt to the evening's activities.

"Rich--this was fun!" said Kim gleefully. "I feel like I'm back in the treehouse reading books with Ron again! Omigod, talk about a Food Chain! Talk about pressure! Mrs. Bennet has to marry off all her daughters because they're going to become homeless when Mr. Bennet dies! This cousin William Collins! He comes on to Elizabeth. He thinks reading sermons is fun! God, what a bore! Uh, sorry, Rich, I don't mean to say that he sounds like you--!"

"S' okay, Kim."

"--But Elizabeth's all hung up on Charles Wickham. 'All the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address.' Does that sound like me and Erik Drake, or what. But then there's Fitzwilliam Darcy--who Lady Catherine--Lady Dragon, if you ask me--."

Rich laughed at Kim's mention of "Lady Dragon".

"--Wants him to marry her daughter. And Elizabeth and her dad are like so--'My little Lizzy.' I can almost hear him call her 'Lizzy-cub'--."

Rich laughed again.

"--And Elizabeth and Darcy! She's like 'From the very beginning--your manners--your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others--you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.' And he's like 'And this is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed!'

You can just tell they're so crushing on each other!"

Rich listened patiently as Kim chatted nonstop for several moments until she ran out of breath. "Kim, I'm a bad influence on you. You sound like you've already memorized the book word for word."

Kim laughed. "Shut up! You're making me blush. I was so afraid that reading this would be a bore, like with the old-fashioned language, but being with you makes it so easy. Rich--can we do this every night?"

Rich yawned. "My dear Kismet. I think it's me that's going to play hooky tomorrow, if you keep me up every night."

Kim drove down from Mt. Middleton. Rich drifted off to sleep in the passenger seat. His head bobbed and eventually settled on Kim's shoulder. Kim would steal a fond glance now and then. She put her left hand to her lips and blew him a kiss. "I love you, Richard Harte," she whispered. "And I know Ron does, too. You've made such a difference in our lives."

TO BE CONTINUED