To all who have read and those who have read and reviewed, I really appreciate it. Customary disclaimer, KP belongs to disney, except Little Mary, stand by on her, you'll get to know her much better in the following chapters. Anyway, Merry Christmas, and I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 4: Reconciliations

"Ronald Dean Stoppable!" Kim shouted, "Get down here, now!" She knew Ron's parents were out of town for the weekend. Ron was always forgetting his keys, so she had a spare. This time she was not going to his room to wake him up. This time she wasn't going to be side tracked, no way was he going to touch her until they had talked.

Kim watched in amazement as Ron burst from his bedroom, hit the stair rail, fell over it, did a double roll mid-air, and then hit the floor running toward her, still half asleep.

"KP, are you all right? What's happened?" Ron raced toward her, reaching with worried arms.

Enthralled by the aerial maneuver, Kim was almost caught. Starting, she jumped over the couch, "Stop right there. Stay on your side of the couch." She ordered from her haven, "Don't you touch me."

Ron obediently halted, blinking, trying visibly to awaken. "KP, what's the matter? Why all the shouting, you could have just come up and…"

"Not this time, Ron Stoppable, I want some answers."

"But, KP, I always answer your questions." Ron began to smile. "All you have to do is ask. I would never deny you anything." As he spoke, Ron eased forward, his half lidded eyes looking directly into her emerald jewels. His voice soft and loving, he soothed, "Just tell me what you want, honey, and I'll…"

Kim blushed, "No, you stay right there, don't you come any closer."

"Gee, Kim, you're no fun this morning." He gave her her favorite goofy grin. "Can I at least make some coffee?"

Kim blinked, "Coffee, yes, make coffee." Ron turned and her gaze followed the taunt muscles of his naked back, the tight toosh in the new fearless ferret boxers, "And put some clothes on!"

II.

"Where's Possible?"

"She had a, ah, emergency mission she had to go on." Melody answered. "I volunteered to take her place."

Barkin glared at the four young women lined up in front of his desk. Bonnie, Melody, Suzie, and Little Mary stared blankly back.

"I'll talk to her later. Now, I told you to be here this morning so I could get some answers. I'm sure you all have better things to do on a Saturday morning, so do I. I want to know, what started the fight?"

"What fight?"

Barkin scowled, "All right, if you prefer, the riot."

"What riot?"

The assistant principle stood, leaned over his desk, and stared intimidatingly into the eyes of each of the girls. Of course, he had to look up into the innocent blue eyes of Little Mary.

"Ladies, if it takes all day, I am going to get to the bottom of this. The riot that occurred in the old gym, yesterday afternoon, after school, the riot you were all involved in."

"Oh, that."

"Unless I've been derelict, it's the only one I know of. Now, talk."

"That wasn't a riot, it was practice." Suzie blurted.

"Practice? Practice? For what? Inner city warfare?"

Suzie glanced frantically at the others.

"Uh, no, Mr. Barkin," Bonnie took over, "it's a game my dad told me about."

"And what is the name of this 'game'?"

"Combat football."

"Never heard of it."

"That's right," Little Mary mused, "it's an army game, and you were only a marine, weren't you?"

"Only a Marine! Only a…let me tell you…" Barkin visibly regained control, though his face still burned. "Explain."

"It's a pretty simple game," Bonnie explained, "You have six balls, two goals, two teams. Half of each team is on their half of the fifty yard line, the others on the other half. The idea is to get the balls in the goal."

Barkin was involuntarily intrigued. "Rules?"

"The players can't cross the fifty yard line. You can't hit somebody above the waist; you can't kick them below the waist."

"And?"

"That's it."

Barkin smiled, a predator with his prey trapped, "With those rules, it seems to me this game should be played outside, say on a football field, not a gym floor. Why were you inside?"

Bonnie's brain froze. "Uh…well…we…ah"

"We didn't want to get our clothes dirty." Melody piped up.

Barkin sat abruptly, "Didn't want to get your clothes dirty?" He began massaging his forehead.

The other girls looked at melody in awe. "Yes, sir" "That's what happened."

"You intend to stick to this story?"

"It's true, sir" came four patently sincere answers.

"Out."

"Sir?"

"Out, now. Out of my office, out of my…"

The girls fled.

III.

Dr. James Timothy Possible sat at the kitchen table, a cooling cup of coffee in his hand, his paper forgotten, and a wide grin on his face.

"She's always been a loving, passionate women, but who knew one little spot? I wonder what other little tricks…"

Two soft arms came around his neck; two soft lips kissed his ear. He stood, turning to pull his love close. "I must remember to thank Ronald, right after I give him a very long, personal tour of our newest space probe."

Inviting lips pressed against his, destroying all other thoughts.

IV.

Kim stared suspiciously into her coffee cup. "What is this?"

"It's Kimmie coffee. Something I thought up just for you. Try it." Ron grinned, "What, you think I'm drugging you or something?"

It smelled delicious, she took a cautious sip, "Ron, this is wonderful, what is it?"

"Basic French roast, cinnamon, and a few sprinkles of ground Mexican chocolate."

"Well it's…no, you don't!" She pointed with her cup, "That corner of the couch is yours until I get my answers." Ron looked wounded, "None of that, sit and no touching." Kim folded her legs under her and sat Indian style in her corner, facing her boy friend.

"Ok, ok, but can I at least lie down?" Ron pouted, "This is awful early for an interrogation, y'know."

"Go ahead."

Ron placed a throw pillow and lay down. As he did, Kim grabbed his feet and swung them into her lap. "Just remember, boy friend, wrong answer, tickle time." She ran a soft finger up his sole.

Giggling, he gasped, "Don't do that, I'll talk, I'll talk."

"Just to remove any doubt, you have been spanking other girls, right?"

"Yes."

Kim looked at him with wounded tearful eyes. "Why, Ronnie? I thought you loved me."

Seeing her distress, Ron moved to sit up and comfort her.

She grasped his feet, "Stay put. Answers."

"KP, remember I told you I learned a lot at Yamanouchi?" Ron began.

"Yeeesss."

"And I told you I still needed to practice and you said go ahead, that practice is necessary to maintain skills?"

"Yeah."

"Well, this is part of that."

"What kind of ninja are you training to be?" Kim exploded, "I've met embarrassment ninjas, what are you, a Kama Sutra ninja?"

Ron burst out laughing, "See, see, this is what you are not going to believe, but Kimmie, this is homework! You know how I feel about homework." Ron's assumed a long suffering expression.

"Uh huh, riiight. Next you'll try to tell me you haven't been enjoying yourself." Kim snorted.

"I don't lie to you, KP, you know that. In a way, it's like cooking, finding the right combinations to work."

"Why the spanking?"

"That's just a distraction while I do my real homework."

"What's that? How to cop a feel?"

"KP." Ron looked hurt, "I have not copped a feel on any of those girls. Ask them."

"I know," she grudgingly admitted, "but what are you doing?"

"This is where it gets a little weird."

"Gets weird?"

He grinned. "First, some history. The original ninja were assassins and thieves, right?"

"Right."

"Well, the man you were going to kill might be sleeping with his wife or concubine. She might have powerful relatives you didn't want to upset, so she had to be incapacitated."

"Why not just knock her out?'

"No evidence, such as a bruise, remember? Anyway, that's how the lesser ninja did it, but the masters came up with a more, ahh, elegant solution."

"And that was?"

"No memory of an intruder, just a pleasant dream she would be embarrassed to relate. Imagine, her husband is being murdered beside her and she's…well, you see." Ron blushed.

Kim's complexion matched his. "Ok, I get that, but why the other girls, can't you practice on me?" Her blush flared.

"Sensei's orders."

"What?"

Kim suddenly realized she wasn't nearly as upset as she should be. Why she…Ron's feet! One foot was massaging her bare side, while the toe of the other circled and probed her belly button. In, out, gently around, in, out, soothing and arou….She levitated off the couch.

"I told you no touching!' Kim grabbed his feet, beginning a determined tickle attack, sending Ron into hysterics. "Now talk, ninja boy."

"Pax, pax, I surrender." Ron wiped the tears from his eyes. "Where was I?"

"Sensei's orders."

"Oh, yeah, well anyway, all women are the same, but they're all different, OK?"

Kim nodded suspiciously, "Ok, so?'

"So I have to practice to find the differences. Besides, Sensei said it was impossible."

Kim was immediately interested, "What's impossible?"

"KP, there are over two hundred pleasure points on a woman."

"Two…two hundred?'

"Yes, and Sensei said it was impossible for any woman to sustain being stimulated that much."

"Two hundred." Kim licked her lips.

"Uh huh, so you see why I've…Hey!" Kim grabbed his tee shirt, hauling him off the couch. "KP, what are you…" She pulled him towards the stairs. "KP, I told you it was impossible!"

"Impossible? Check my name."

V.

"Mrs. Dr. P.?"

"Hello, Ron, if you're looking for Kim, I thought she was with you?"

"She is, sorta, Mr. Dr. P. there?"

"No, he and the boys went to the lab for something. I can tell him you called."

"NO, uh no Mrs. Dr. P., I'll be right over."

"Now I wonder what that's all about." Mrs. Possible mused to herself.

Ten minutes later she found out when Ron knocked on her kitchen door. "Ron, what are you…Kim!"

"Hi, Mrs. Dr. P." He stood there in the porch light, a limp boneless body cradled in his arms. "It's ah, not what you think."

"I didn't know Kim had a mission. I'll call the hospital and…"

"No, no, no, Mrs. P. Kim's not hurt. Honest."

Mrs. Possible looked closely at her daughter. Other than the closed eyes and limp limbs, she couldn't see an injury, and she didn't think she had ever seen that satisfied a smile on her daughter's face.

She frowned, "Ronald, what have you and Kim been doing."

"Not, not what you're thinking, Mrs. P. Believe me. Can I take her up to her room, please?"

"All right," Anne stepped aside, leaning to tell Ron, "but you and I are going to have a talk, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am, I understand." Ron stammered, heading down the hall and up the stairs.

Anne followed, "What did Ronald do this summer? He's carried Kim from his house, apparently, and up the stairs, and he's not even breathing hard." "Set her on the bed and wait for me downstairs, Ron. After I get her settled, we'll talk."

"Yes, ma'am." Ron tried to follow her orders, but found a resistant Kim, moaning, "no…don' go…again…pleas…an than' you."

Anne's eyebrow's rose as she stared at a blushing Ron. She pried her daughter's reluctant arms from around his neck. "Go."

"Gone." Ron almost ran from the room.

Anne Possible gazed down at her limp, smiling, disheveled daughter, unable to hide her grin, "Young lady, you and I are going to have a looong talk."

VI.

"Ron, could you see who's at the door?" Anne yelled as she wrestled Kim into her pajamas.

"Sure thing, Mrs. P." Ron called back.

Ten minutes later, having finally pulled the covers over her boneless daughter, Anne went downstairs.

"Now, Ronald we need to…Ron…Ronald?"