A/N Short chapter here, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway because I had to do quite a bit of odd research for this chapter. On what you ask? Well you'll see it when you come across it. (For an additional clue if you didn't know, I am a dude)

P.S Oh to the K/R fans keeping a watchdog like vigilance over the story. It's actually kind of flattering in a way lol. And I can't blame you guys, if the shoe was on the other foot etc etc.

But hey I have a story to tell, and I'm going to tell it to best of my ability, and that's basically what I'm hoping to do.

"You say something?" Tara asked as she snatched a duffel bag from the trunk of her car. She skipped around toward the hood where Bonnie sat crossed legged and reading a magazine.

"Listen to this Tar'. According to this article, young women between the ages of eighteen and thirty are suffering from low libido, at rates never seen before. Forty three percent of them do not care for sex or enjoy it at all."

"Forty three percent? That sounds like a lot," Tara mentioned.

"They're blaming it on stress at work, antidepressants, and even Hollywood." Bonnie glanced up from the magazine. "What do you think is missing from this list Tara?"

"Um," Tara set the duffel bag down and pondered the question for a moment. "The guys?"

"Exactly, right away they're blaming the women. Forty three percent of the women out there are perfectly fine. The problem is ninety percent of the jerks out there, who can't turn anyone on. They're playing fantasy football, they're talking about comic book movies, and oh heaven forbid you get in the middle of a 'bromance.'"

Tara slid onto the hood beside Bonnie. "When I broke up with Josh for the third time, I went out with this guy named Hal and I swear we did not make out once without some sports show being on in the background."

Bonnie scoffed. "Because it's so romantic making out while a guy has one eye on the baseball updates. Not like most of them would know what to do even if they were focused on the task at hand."

"My cousin Tia lived with a guy for ten years who didn't know how to-" Tara waved her hand below her waistline. "Y'know cunning linguist."

"Cunnilingus" Bonnie corrected with a sigh.

"Yeah that." Tara nodded. "Anyway, while she was with him she thought she hated it. But then she broke up with him and hooked up with this other guy and it turns out she loves it".

"Like any other normal woman," Bonnie added. "Let me guess the old boyfriend's technique, puppy dog with an Alpo can?"

Tara moved her head from left to right, "No, she said he just kind of snaked around down there."

"Oh jeez, is it so hard have a little pride in your love making skills. This isn't Nascar folks, the fastest one to the finish line is not the big winner."

"I blame internet porn," Tara said simply.

"Really?" Bonnie asked curiously.

"Yep. I think nowadays guys bring as much insecurities to bed as women. Lots of them are afraid that they're….stuff...is too small because all the videos on their hard drive have guys walking around with a Louisville Slugger in their pants. And have you seen porn? There's like zero seduction involved, it's gross."

Bonnie nodded approvingly. "Tara I am impressed by your insight."

"Well you never know what can come to mind while meditating."

"Meditate, you meditate now?" Bonnie asked through narrow eyes.

Quickly Tara slid off the hood and jumped to her feet. "Hey you said you'd solve this case by midnight."

"What time is it now?"

"Midnight."

Bonnie scoffed. "Well since we're past the deadline there won't be any pressure"

Tara placed her hand on Bonnie's shoulder. "That's fine, it's a perfectly natural reaction to stall when you're about to something really unusual."

"Stalling," Bonnie said aghast. "Nothing stalls Bonnie Rockwaller from her objectives. The time is now, let's go through the equipment."

"OK," Tara knelt down, unzipped the duffel bag and began to scrounge through it.

"Cell phone and headsets?" Bonnie asked.

"Check," Tara replied as she fished the devices from the bag and handed them to Bonnie.

"Flashlight?"

"Check."

"Raspberry lip balm?"

"Check"

Bonnie unscrewed the tiny tube, dabbed a bit of the goop across her lips and puckered.

"Gloves?"

"Check," Tara tossed Bonnie a pair and she swiftly slipped them on.

"What about this ski mask?" Tara held the dark colored accessory out to Bonnie.

"And mess up my hair? You must be joking. Speaking of hair-," Bonnie reached into the bag and pulled out a hairnet.

"What's that for?"

"No evidence left behind, that includes fingerprints and hair strands." Bonnie slipped the net over her hair and made sure to tuck any and all loose strands in.

"Alright Tara get in the car and wait there. Keep your head down but you keep an eye out with the binoculars. If anything strange happens hit me up on the headset. Now what I am about to do is technically illegal. So if you hear, like sirens or something hit the gas pedal and go."

"I can't leave you alone," Tara said taken aback. "Bonnie you're too...self confident...to survive alone in a woman's prison."

"First of all I am going to take that as compliment and I thank you for it. Second of all, you can leave and you will, because worst case scenario I will need someone on the outside to smuggle in my favorite brand of shampoo."

"I'd be honored," Tara exclaimed.

Bonnie in turn placed her hand on her friend's shoulders. "Of course you would. Now I'm off to do what, I do best, be excellent."

The plan was simple enough. At least, it had seemed that way when the plan came to her. The case had started with Tara and her on their way to visit John Moretti at home. That little excursion was unfortunately interrupted by a ridiculously explosive shoot out. Now two weeks later seeing herself with severely limited options, Bonnie planned on breaking into John Morretti's home to look for clues on his whereabouts, because unfortunately he was the only lead they had on finding Janet's father.

Under the cover of darkness Bonnie tiptoed across the street and slipped onto Morretti's front yard. She scanned the exterior of the house and came to the immediate conclusion that she had no idea what to do next. How would she get in the house? What would she be looking for? How would she find it? Wouldn't the police have cleaned out the area for anything remotely important? Why wasn't she at home asleep, instead of working a case that had only brought wrinkle inducing stress into her life? When she found herself standing before Morretti's door, she reconsidered; one reason for this being she was already there, the other was that she had made too big of a fuss in front of Tara and Ron, to back out now. There really was no turning back now she lamented, while staring at the front door. It was now or never, she was Bonnie Rockwaller, she was exceptional, and she did know what to do next. It had just taken some time to come to her, all the best plans took time, she reasoned.

Hours of watching private eye and mystery themed movies was now paying off. Smiling to herself she pulled out her Gap VIP membership card and slid the card into the vertical crack between the door and the frame. She'd seen it done in the movies countless times. When the sly protagonist needed to explore someone's base of operations he'd whip out a card, wiggle it in the crack of the door and stroll right on in. Feeling especially sly Bonnie pushed the card in until it was completely wedged into the door. So far so good, she thought as she slid the card downwards until it hit the lock. Unfortunately the door did not magically spring open as she had expected, with the patience of a small child she worked the card up and down until

Snap

Startled she pulled out the card, only to come away with half of it.

Nooooooooo!

Bonnie wailed inwardly. Soft puppy dog whimpers escaped from her lips as she stared at the broken card in her hand. She had shopped so hard for the privilege of owning that card.

She stepped away from the door. No I cannot be deterred by despair

Conceding to the fact that she was not as sly a protagonist as she had envisioned, she quickly abandoned the front door a few seconds later. As she rounded the house her determination to break in grew, if not for anything but the fact that she couldn't let her membership card's sacrifice be in vain.

The locked windows and back door had Bonnie momentarily discouraged until she spied a door leading into the garage. She didn't consider herself that lucky until the knob turned with ease in her hand. After a quick over the shoulder look, she slipped into the house and closed the door behind her.

She didn't spend too long in the dark before pulling out her flashlight, and fiddling with her headset.

"I'm in Tara."

"The house?" Tara's voice came through in garbled static.

"Yes, the house" Bonnie waved her flashlight around the garage. The light washed over the tool bench in the back wall and the standard oil spots on the ground.

"OK, what am I looking for?" Bonnie muttered.

"You're looking for a clue," Tara said simply.

Bonnie sighed. "You're absolutely adorable Tara, are you aware of that?"

"I am aware thank you" Tara replied sweetly as Bonnie crossed the garage and opened an interior door.

"I might start calling you Kronk when we're on the cases."

"Ooo, and you can be -"

"If you say Yzma, I swear I'll come back there and-"

"Kuzco. I was going with Kuzco."

Bonnie found herself in the kitchen, she located the light switch, flipped it on, and after a quick glance around she discovered everything to be disappointingly normal. Standard yellow curtains over the sink, white pine cabinets, and plaid tablecloth draped over a breakfast table near the window, standard cheery Americana. Wandering about, first stopping at the front door to pull out the remainder of her GAP card, she eventually jogged up the stairs and entered the first bedroom she came upon. The bare tabletop, the single dresser, and the crisp, clean, and coordinated linens over the bed screamed guestroom to her. She did a quick scan of the closet and drawer and came up with nothing. Disappointed once again, she stepped out, crossed the hall and moved on to the last room in the house. In the dark it seemingly appeared to be a simple bedroom with nothing out of the ordinary. She made a beeline for the nightstand and started unfolding every piece of paper she could find hoping for some sign of anything really.

Yielding zero from the nightstand, the dresser, and a quick glance under the bed, Bonnie made her way to the closet. She threw the closet door open and gasped.

"Something wrong?" Tara exclaimed.

Bonnie was not quick to reply as her eyes took in the sight of the closet interior. The closet was separated into two sections. The right side contained suits and buttoned down shirts with sneakers and boots directly beneath them on the ground. The left side, the gasp worthy side contained hooks with dozens of beautiful, exquisite, designer purses. Below the purses were so many shoes that it was like looking through a boutique store window. They were the genuine half a grand a pair articles. Bonnie knelt down beside a pair of Louis Vuitton Minimalisa High Boots in ostrich leather no less, and let out a loud moan as she inspected them.

"Um, Bonnie."

"New development Tara, if Morretti isn't married then he must have a girlfriend...and she has fabulous taste in accessories. No it's beyond fabulous, it can only be described as divine."

She tilted her head upward and turned her attention back to the purses. Each one was a treat for the eyes but that wasn't enough; she had to feel the material.

"Bonnie...?"

"One second Tara," Bonnie said as she licked her lips. "I'm having a moment."

Her fingers ran across each individual purse, feeling the materials and drawing in the expensive purse smell. The most exquisite purse was hooked up at the back; it was a vivid green that would perfectly match her eyes.

"Um, Bon'"

"What is it Tara?"

"You should probably know that someone just walked into the house."

Bonnie froze. When she heard the stairs creek, she willed herself not to hyperventilate.

"Gotta hide, so not another word Tara," she whispered.

She scanned the room for a hiding place, the closet would have been good if hadn't been packed to capacity. The dresser, the night stand, they were not large enough to hide behind. Thinking quickly Bonnie dropped to the ground and squeezed her body under the bed. Labored breathing alerted her when the intruder-come-lately entered the room. With her hand clasped tightly around her mouth Bonnie watched a pair of what she identified as expensive Jimmy Choo pumps cross the room.

Bonnie then heard the sound of the drawers being opened and ruffled through. There was a grunt, and then she watched the glorious pumps heading toward the closet. It was a quick stop because to Bonnie's horror the intruder turned back towards the bed. Holding her breath Bonnie offered a silent prayer as the Jimmy Choo's slowly came towards her. One step after the other until the tip of the right foot was inches from her face to the point where she caught the faint scent of odor eaters. She was sure the intruder was set on taking a nap, but thankfully Choo's veered to the left and out the bedroom door.

Her sigh of relief was big enough to splatter the dust bunnies in front of her face. The stair case squeaked again but Bonnie waited until she heard the front door slam downstairs, before crawling from beneath the bed. She walked back over to the closet and after flipping through her memory, she concluded that a pair of shoes was now missing. But worse of all the eye matching purse had been taken as well.

It hadn't occurred to her to steal the purse but now that it was gone, it dawned on her that the night had finally reached a low point. And it was time to quit while she was ahead. She rushed down the stairs two at a time and she was making her into the kitchen when Tara's whisper came through her headset.

"Bonnie are you OK?"

"Yes," she answered.

"OK so here's something weird. The front door opened and shut but no one came out."

Bonnie came to a quick stop, "what?"

It was at that exact moment when the kitchen lights went out with a loud click.

"Oh crap," Bonnie muttered.

She was not more than a few feet from the kitchen door when she was attacked from behind. Huge hands shot out of the dark, lifted her up and tossed her back to the ground. She hit the floor hard but after years of topping cheerleader pyramids she wasn't a stranger to a rough fall. Recovering quickly she sprang up fast, swung out and made contact in the darkness. The loud grunt confirmed that her assailant was hit and possibly dazed. Taking the opportunity Bonnie threw her body against the kitchen door and barreled out into the backyard.

She had managed to scramble onto the backyard when abruptly she was tackled from behind, and once again being slammed to the ground. Glancing up, gasping she saw the outline of her assailants body in the moonlight as she was pinned to the ground. Red hair, red ascot, a matching sequin dress, and the missing purse.

Always with the red hair Bonnie mused through her pain. At least this one had an eye for fashion.

"Who are you?" The assailant cried in an unusually high pitched voice. "Did they send you?"

Her eyes adjusting to the darkness Bonnie took in the sight of the person crushing her to the ground.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she managed to sputter.

"You're lying!"

Additional pressure was to Bonnie's ribcage, she was on the verge of crying out loud in pain when.

"HIYA!"

Bonnie looked on in amazement as a dainty fist flew into view and smashed right into her attacker's face. The pressure on her chest was lifted immediately when the obviously crazed but brilliant "accessorizer" was knocked clear of her body. Groaning out loud Bonnie crawled to her feet. Now doubled over and breathing heavily, she attempted to regain her bearings while Tara took a fighting stance beside her.

Finally getting it together, she glanced up just in time to see the second intruder leaping over the back fence. A moment later the only trace left of her would- be- rib crusher was a single pump lying among a trail of footprints.

"Oh thank god she ran off, I had no idea what I was going to do next," Tara said with a sigh of relief.

Bonnie drew in a deep breath. "Really Tara? Hiya?"

Tara blushed profusely. "It's a little cliched but it felt like the right thing to say."

Bonnie smiled, "Don't ever change sweetie."

She marched over to the lone shoe and plucked it out of the ground.

"What's that?" Tara asked.

"This Tara, is a clue."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So...it's a shoe?"

"It's not just a shoe," Bonnie corrected. "These red crocodile pumps are a great example of a sexy, modern approach to footwear. They magically transform everyday pumps into luxurious must-haves."

Ron blinked rapidly at Bonnie. "So it's a shoe?"

"Oh God," Bonnie sighed as she watched Ron place on the table in front of her, a large leaf with a thick green paste spread across the surface of it.

"What's with the guacamole?"

"It's not guacamole, it's...something Japanese," Ron coughed.

"Ooooo" Tara cooed as she leaned over Bonnie's shoulder. Bonnie shooed her friend away from her immediate personal space.

"Give me your right hand," Ron instructed.

"Why?"

"Just trust me."

Reluctantly Bonnie extended out her hand. Ron took her hand in his and deftly rolled up her sleeve revealing a fairly lengthy cut on the underside of her forearm. Ron dabbed the fingers of his free hand in the paste and spread it across the minor wound on Bonnie's arm.

"Ewwwww," she frowned.

"Stop being a baby," Ron lectured. After a moment or two he wiped most of the salve off with the back of his free hand. Surprisingly enough the wound on her arm was now gone.

Bonnie stared down at her hand as Tara applauded as if she had just witnessed the final act of a magic show.

"Why aren't you selling this to the medical industry?"

"You're welcome," Ron declared as he took a seat at the dining table. "And you could also thank me for telling Tara to go with you; if she wasn't there things might have been a lot worse."

He nodded to Tara who was grinning broadly.

"OK wait minute, Tara did save the day. But I wasn't completely defenseless. I was pretty close to biting the crap out of him."

"Him?" Tara asked.

"Yeah, I thought Tara said it was a woman" Ron added on.

"No, it was a man."

Ron and Tara exchanged glances.

"Oh right, I guess I should elaborate. God Forbid you take my word for it," Bonnie said.

She lifted the shoe off the table. "Well for one, look at the size of this thing. This is a size ten men; they don't even make them in this size."

Ron scratched at his forehead. "Well that doesn't really prov-,"

"I'm not a done," Bonnie interrupted. "When he first attacked in the dark I did manage to strike him in the chest. And his breasts were definitely fake. I'm not talking about 'silicone' valley either, I'm saying it was like a stage prop, space age polymer material."

"How can you tell from one feel?" Ron asked skeptically

Bonnie scoffed, "Yeah, why would I know how breasts feel? Not like they haven't been y'know hanging off my body for most of my life."

"Yeah but those are your breasts." Ron turned to Tara, "Breasts come in different sizes and textures right?"

"A moot point Stoppable," Bonnie said. "Since I have felt other breasts before."

Ron's head snapped turned towards her. Bonnie watched incredulously as his mouth moved but no sounds emerged. He then stopped himself and drew in a deep breath. "So what you're saying is you've felt other breasts?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Oh my goodness, I've got two sisters who made it a point to wrestle me to the ground whenever they felt like it. I was a cheerleader for four years. I have bumped and rubbed against all kinds of breasts in my life, even Kim's for example."

Visibly embarrassed Ron ran his hands over his face. "That sounds reasonable"

"Obviously it's pretty safe to say I have felt more breasts than you have, at this point in our lives. You probably only have one pair on your resume."

"OK….."

"And that's not even that big of a deal, Kim's breasts right? Tara and I have both bumped into Kim's breasts before."

"OK, I get it..." Ron once again stopped himself, shut his eyes, and drew in a deep breath. "So to clarify what you're saying is...you've both gotten a feel of Kim's breasts before, and she's probably felt yours?"

"It's like your twelve!" Bonnie exclaimed. She turned to Tara. "This is your fault, that kissing joke earlier has obviously screwed with his head."

Tara nodded sadly. "I really should consider the consequences of my humor."

Ron shook himself like a dog coming in from the rain. "Alright I'm good, it's out of my system…..I'm good, let's get back to the...the case."

"Anyway the final and most definitive reason why I believe I was attacked by a man tonight. The ascot…."

"The what?" Ron asked.

"The ascot is a very hard move to pull off without looking old fashioned. I personally wouldn't risk it but when done right it's very chic…."

"What are you talking about?" Ron said confused.

Bonnie sighed" just let me finish my train of thought OK? In this particular case however it was being used to hide a very telling bump in the neck area. Something most commonly known as the…" she paused for melodramatic effect "…Adam's apple. I'm sure you've heard of it. Unfortunately the ascot's material wasn't thick enough and a keen eye would be able to spot the bump, seeing how men don't have breasts and women don't have Adam's apple we can conclude I was attacked by a guy."

"You saw the Adam's apple beneath an ascot in the dark?" Ron said incredulously.

Bonnie leaned back in her chair. "Stoppable, tell me how does one become the biggest bitch in our high school without being able to spot weakness."

"Touche," Ron replied. "So OK, back to the original issue how does the shoe help you?"

"Before I explain that, let me ask you something. You're some kind of a cop. Can't you, you know, run some prints on this or something?"

"How about, I not do your work for you?"

"Fine," Bonnie sighed. "Like I said about the pumps earlier, this shoe size is a male ten, you won't find that in any boutique, because they don't make these shoes this big. Something this big has to be ordered custom made. This is a very expensive shoe and only one store in the tri-state area does these kinds of custom jobs. It's called La Madonna Boutique and its midtown. There's a platinum card detector at the door, you don't have one then you're not getting in. They'll probably have records on whoever brought this shoe. We get the records we find my attacker; we probably find something about John Morretti."

"Yay Bon', doing your 'P. I' thing," Tara rose out of her seat and applauded happily. "This calls for celebratory chocolate cupcakes, good thing I got some at the store this morning."

Humming happily to herself Tara sauntered out of the dining room and into the kitchen.

"Hmmm. OK," Ron said he looked from Bonnie to the kitchen and back to Bonnie again. "As much as I hate to throw rain clouds on that ray of sunshine, how are you going to get those records?"

Bonnie stood up. "I'll cross that bridge when I get there. Don't be a buzz kill Stoppable; give me at least one night to enjoy my minor success. Now if you don't mind, I am going to treat myself to a celebratory bath."

"Hold on BonBon." Ron called out as she made a turn to leave. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of items.

"What are those?" She asked.

"These are part of your starter kit," he said as he placed each item on the table.

"This fake cigarette lighter is the worlds smallest but most powerful stun gun, phony lipstick is actually mace, this pen is basically like reusable a mini flash bang grenade, and this key chain when properly used activates a silent alarm."

"Silent alarm that alerts who?"

"Me," Ron replied casually. "There might be a day when Tara isn't enough to bail you out."

"And you didn't give me these before tonight when I could have been killed because….?"

"Do you want them or night?" Ron sighed.

Bonnie reached for the items on the table but Ron deflected her hand.

He produced a tiny handbook, "Instructions, learn how to use them before you have to use them."

"Clever line, you should be righting PSAs," Bonnie said as she accepted the handbook. She reached for the items once more but Ron deflected her hand again.

"Hey how about a "thank you" first? I'm giving you these for free, you know like room and board."

"You're serious?" Bonnie asked.

"Just a simple 'thank you Stoppable' will be fine," Ron smirked.

Bonnie chuckled softly. "Fine," she said suddenly before plopping herself down on his lap. Then she put an arm around his shoulders and drew his head near to her.

"You sure a simple thank you is good enough Ron? Or should I say big daddy" she purred.

"Yeah," he stated becoming increasingly anxious. "Just a simple thank you."

"Really? But that's not very fun"

"F-fun?" Ron stuttered. "OK you're making fun of me now, and I don't appreciate being teased."

"You don't like being teased?" Bonnie shifted herself on his lap.

"Hahahaha, no, I don't" he gulped.

"With if I get extra wriggly?" she giggled innocently.

"No! No that that would not help, in fact less wiggling is good, actually, what you can do is get off on me-no wait, I meant to say get—me off you-oh no that didn't sound right either."

"Stoppable, you're beginning to sweat," she whispered. "Relax, if you don't want me on your lap then push me off."

Bonnie leaned forward and clutched his head against her chest. "Or are you afraid to touch me"

She felt his body stiffen beneath her. No that was an understatement; he literally stopped moving under her. Finding this curious Bonnie leaned back to gauge the reaction on his face. His eyes were shut, there was nothing but complete stillness and calm upon Ron's face and she couldn't tell he was breathing until she waved her fingers under his nose.

"Stoppable? Ron?" She waved her hands before his face.

"What's going on?" Tara asked as she returned to the dining room with a plate of cupcakes.

Bonnie jumped to her feet. "I was just teasing him but now...I think I broke him."

"Huh," Tara brushed past her friend and inspected Ron's face.

"Is he alright?" Bonnie asked.

"Not to doubt your bold and appealing sensuality Bon', but I don't think you broke him" Tara answered.

"If he's not broken, what happened to him?"

"I think he's meditating. Martial artists have been known to retreat into deep meditative states during periods of immense physical or mental stress."

"And you know this how?"

Tara looked up at the ceiling. "Um, Discovery Channel?"

Bonnie stared at Tara for a moment before grabbing a cupcake for herself. "So how long is he going to be like this?"

"I don't know."

"Well then" Bonnie said as she took a bite of cupcake. "What's on pay-per-view?"

A/N Hopefully you dug it. Hopefully it was short but entertaining. Read and review tell me what you think.