Tales of The Awkward: The Almost Syndrome


Right now, during a beautiful late summer afternoon, Ron Stoppable was so freaking nervous and shaken up, his middle name could be 'Jumpy' by about now.

He must've laid there on that floor mat for an hour or so, thinking about what had happened about thirty minutes ago. Wait a minute... on the floor mat for an hour, thinking about what had happened thirty minutes ago?

The blond was literally a beep away from his best friend, Kim Possible locking lips with him for the first time ever, and boy... did it shake him up. And by the term 'shaken up', we're not just talking about the garden variety shaken up... We're talking about 'carbonated beverage-on-a-roller-coaster' shaken up, or 'a heavyweight boxer after ten rounds with the champ' shaken up, or, of course, 'Boston, Massachusetts on the evening of August 21st, 2006' shaken up.

Now that's shaken up.

Every time he attempted to take his mind off of it, it just came back. Every single thought, every cerebration... every freaking... conjecture was about her.

No more... He couldn't deal with this for much longer... Yes, it could have happened. It would have happened. Damn it all to hell, it should have happened. However, when he least expected it, a little beep from a pocket-sized communication device kept him from...

...blissful happiness for all of eternity?

...an excitable situation that would remember for the rest of his life?

...a one-time surprise that would never happen again?

Or... even more confusion down the road?

Or… a combination of all four at once?

Ohhh, boy... Jumpy was getting very much confused, and that led to Jumpy being very much upset. Why couldn't he just drop this subject?

Hmm, perhaps because of the likelihood of his best companion sharing the same sentiments as he does was thought to be unlikely until what had happened earlier, despite the fact that they're supposed to be just... companions... er, friends...

Er... cronies...

Um... how about confreres...?

Confidants?

Grrr... Jumpy... or Ron tried several times to try and get his mind off of the near miss and the new mess that he got himself into. True story... He attempted to think of things that were positive... Like, his grades rising in the junior year next semester... or perhaps, going through a mission without his trousers dropping to his ankles... That was definitely positive. Another positive thought... yeah, he was getting somewhere... Hm... graduating from high school with significant honors. But then again, another positive thought that trumped all of those put together would be...

...passionately making out with Kim Possible.

No, No, No!

'OK… negative thoughts!' He urged himself. Negative thoughts like... failing classes next semester and going to Summer School as a result. Or perhaps being knocked down for the count by the bad guys... Hmmm, what about cooking up a disaster in Home Ec? That was certainly negative. Then again, the vision of Senor Senior Jr. in a thong was pretty negative... and disgusting... or falling into a bottomless pit... or... a return to Camp Wannaweep... Whew! Now that was negative. Negative like... evil squirrels, or... or... freakish-looking mutant humanoid fish... or the GOP retaining the Senate in November... Man that'd be seriously negative, but it didn't happen... thankfully. Or worse yet, a sudden spike in the president's approval rating.

Ron shivered violently... now, that was negative.

However, he did know of a thought that wasn't negative.

The thought of Kim Possible the world defending super heroine and his best friend, kissing the absolute daylights of him. Her warm body of top of his and hands... his hands running all throughout her lustrous auburn hair, in the basement of her abode, with no foreseeable chances of any interruptions. Her toned legs, hidden behind baggy pants, keeping him from moving a muscle... both of them moaning sensually... her hands roaming all over his chest and non-existent abs, and his traveling down the small of her back and downward past her waist, onto her nicely, no, beautifully shaped a...

...Wait... No!

The boy literally smacked himself -- 'No thinkee about makee outee with Kimmie!'

For the seventeenth (or maybe eighteenth) time that afternoon, he couldn't stop himself from contemplating the possibilities... Despite the fact that they were so darn pleasant... and his cerebral cortex wasn't the only one who shared the same sentiment with him.

"Damn you..." He said to that particular organ below his waist.

Well, there was no reason for him to hang around the basement now... He needed to head home, and keep himself from thinking things through even further...

...and maybe take about a half-dozen cold showers.


Another mission executed. Another Drakken plot foiled. Another couple of knuckle sandwiches dealt to overmatched henchmen, another round of intensive care for Shego. All in a day's work, no big.

But for reason, the teen heroine was feeling conflicted on the ride back toward the homestead. Kim Possible's head wasn't focused on her latest victory over the vile villains at that point in time. In fact, her mind wasn't very much on the evil opposition the entire trip and the trip back. Even though she took her foes down with the greatest of ease, there was something unsettled with her at that moment.

But what was it?

Was it the fact that her reclining bucket seat wasn't at an upright and locked position?

That wasn't exactly unsettling...

Was it the fact that Ben Savage was alive, despite the stupid rumors on the net?

That wasn't unsettling... In fact, it was comforting. Ben Savage is soooo hot.

Was it Shego asking for Ron's number during their confrontation?

Well, that was kind of unsettling... OK... Very.

'Think harder, Kimmie.'

Who the heck was that voice in her head? And why did that voice in her head sound like Shego?

'You can't be serious... You don't remember who I am?'

Remember... Who was that...? It took a couple of moments before Kim finally realized it...


The Inevitable Return of Hormonia! (In Technicolor!)

"You again?" Asked Kim. Her troubled state had nothing to do with rogue hormones, did it?

Little did she realize that with teenagers, troubled states had everything to do with rogue hormones!

"Don't play dumb with me, Kimmie, you know why I'm here," Hormonia replied.

Kim was confused and amazed... Amazed how her hormones could know more than she does.

"No, I don't," the teen heroine said truthfully. "A-And why do you sound like Shego?"

"Oh, that?" The hormone said, offhandedly. "Yeah, I knew you would respond to a more familiar voice."

Kim was rendered speechless. How could hormones play mind games?

"I told you I wouldn't be ignored any longer, Kimmie," she continued declaratively, a thin smile appearing on her face..

The redhead still remained speechless... She thought that it more of a threat rather than a promise. Even more importantly, she still didn't know what the deceiving hormone was referring to.

"So you don't feel like remembering, huh? Let me jog your memory... Remember that... 'vivid dream' you had?"

The teen adventurer gasped like she was exposed to light after hours of darkness.

"That was you?" She asked.

"No, Kimmie. As a matter of fact, it was you," The hormone answered.

Before Kim had a chance to protest the judgement, Hormonia explained.

"Remember that little fact about dreams -- About the last thing you think about becomes the subject of your dreams?"

But she wasn't thinking about... Wait, she was.

"You were soooo close, Kim. How could you let a little beep stop you?" The conniving hormone asked in her normal voice. "You won't let school or freaky villains stop you from saving the world or getting straight-A's, but you let the Kimmunicator stop you from planting one on the boy you've crushing hard on?"

"I am not crushing hard on Ron," Kim stated harshly. "You made try to do that..."

"Oh, I did, did I?"

"Well, duh... There's no other reason why I would--"

Hormonia cut her off... "So who am I, then?"

"That's easy," Kim replied. "You're a figment of my imagination."

"And if I'm a figment of your imagination, then..." Hormonia continued.

Kim stopped, the truth dawning on her. "Then I wanted to..."

"...Plant a big wet one on him,"

Once again, Kim didn't respond, as the figment of her imagination was unraveling the truth before her.

"Come on, Kim. It's not all that bad," she continued. "It's not like he's one of those other boys that you--"

"He isn't like the boys," Kim concurred. "He's Ron!"

Hormonia was clearly unimpressed with that sentiment. "Oh, come on, Kim. You and I both know that you can't hide behind that for much longer. You're sixteen, he's going to be sixteen, both of your hormones are way out control, as you can see, and let's face it, your starting to notice him, and he notices you."

"Wait... he notices me?" The teen adventurer asked in a small voice.

The hormone groaned in frustration. "Teenagers... so clueless..."

"Um, yes, he does," she answered as if it was obvious. "Jeez, Kimmie, you can pay attention to mad scientists, your grades, natural disasters, and those ridiculous BCS Standings, but you can't pay attention to that blond-haired cutie that stands alongside of you all the time? You'd think paying him some mind would at least be affordable."

"Wait, what's affordable, and who's a cutie?" A confused Kim asked.

Even though Hormonia was but a mere product of the redhead's imagination, it was almost certain that her hand was probably clapping against her face right about now.

"Are you serious, or just doing a Oscar-worthy performance at playing dumb?"

"No," The redhead answered, not really answering the question that was presented.

"Grrr... What's affordable is paying more attention to the cutie, who happens to be your sidekick."

"OK, Ron is a lot of things, but he is not a cutie," Kim replied sharply.

"O Rly? Then what is he?"

The Unofficial Count-off Before Kim Possible Labels Ron Stoppable as 'Cute', let us begin, shall we?

"Well..." Kim stalled momentarily. "He's loyal."

That's one.

"...he's trustworthy..."

And… two.

"He's funny... sometimes."

Three. She's struggling there a little bit.

As more visions of her blond companion came to her, the girl's expression warmed ever-so slightly.

"He's really silly..."

And… four; Struggling like the Yankees in the playoffs nowadays...

"...but he's really sweet, too."

Five; Resistance Slowly Breaking Down.

"And... I guess... he's kind of... cute... sometimes."

Five! Your Final Score: 5.

"Wow," Hormonia said with a knowing snicker. "Only took five words... Looks like I just lost a bet... Anyway, Kim, I'm glad you can finally admit your interest in Ron to at least yourself, but--"

"But, what do I do now?" Kim asked, her resolve shaken a bit. "Just because I admitted it doesn't mean I'm just going to go over to his doorstep and spill my guts to him."

"Yeah, that is a pretty high risk," the hormone mused thoughtfully. "But, a doable one."

"Doable?" The redhead asked doubtfully. "Risking a long-term friendship over what may or may not be a crush? Uh-uh, so not doable."

"Ugh," the imaginary impulse groaned disgustedly. "I-I don't get it, I just don't understand it. You risk your life on almost a daily basis against megalomaniacal individuals who are hell-bent on..."

As the hormone ranted, Kim shook her head, as she knew where this going.

"--And furthermore, you risked your own--" she continued.

"Uh, hello, Miss Figment of my Imagination?"

"You'd better have a good reason to interrupt my tirade."

"If I tried to clarify what's going on with Ron and myself... Would that make you..."

"...Make me what?" The hormone asked hurriedly.

"...Would that make you shut you the --(censored)-- up?" Kim asked, aggravated.

"Oh... Yeah, probably."

"Fine, then I'll try," Kim insisted.

"Do... or do not, there is no 'try'," The hormone said 'sagely.'

(S-Chrome wonders if George Lucas will sue the pants off him.)

Kim sighed. "You know, if I was to tell the world that I'm hearing voices in my head, they would put me in the crazy house, and you'll never get your satisfaction."

Hormonia didn't respond, which caused the redhead to smile thinly. She knew that little crack would make shut her the --(censored)-- up.


The warm afternoon had turned into a warm night. However, to help make the evening... not-so-hot were the attempted cold showers that Ron Stoppable tried to take. After the third, he came to a conclusion that this practice wasn't exactly his cup of tea. After trying to meditate, eat a monumental sandwich, take another cold shower, and repeatedly knocking himself over the head, he sat down and tried to cool himself off by staring at the jumping box for an hour so.

Jumping Box?

Or... the television.

'Flipping through stations... Get my mind off of this... That would do it.'

"Next on Keith Aglow, medical studies that show that suppressing nascent feelings of love and why it will eventually lead to a massive Heart Attack."

The remote control clicked on contact.

--Click--

"But, Johan, how was I supposed to know that you've loved me for so long?"

"I know, Amy, I know... But try and hear me out, please."

"But, Johan! This is my wedding!"

"You're right, Amy. I'll leave now..."

Ron's left eye twitched.

--Click--

"Here lies Michael Schreiger, Born August Second, 1954. For almost thirty years, he had fallen desperately in love with his best companion, Anna McKinnon. After she rejected him, he died nine months after the incident. Though he died running into a wall, the experts say that he really perished from a broken heart."

Ron's right eye twitched.

--Click--

"It took me a really long time to get here, but I'm here. Carrie, you're the one."

That did it... The blond nearly chucked the remote through the television. and it probably went through had the television hadn't been one of those HDTV's. Either way, to escape what the television was subliminally saying to him, the boy took off toward his room. He plunged onto his bed, as he did weeks ago. As he stared at the open window and into the muggy night, he surmised that he was going to be thinking about this the rest of the night, and the rest of the week, and probably for the rest of the month... maybe even the...

Suddenly the telephone rang.

The boy suddenly got nervous more than he was frustrated.

'Please don't let it be Kim,' he begged.

Before he had a chance to be thoroughly spooked, the phone stopped ringing after just one chime, which made the blond stare quizzically at the phone on his desk.

Strange, Kim wouldn't usually just ring once. Then again, maybe it wasn't Kim. Or... maybe it wasn't for him. Yeah, that was probably the case. Perhaps it was just somebody... a family member or... someone calling for either his mom or dad. But they were on a vacation in Florida... and they themselves called about an hour ago, checking if the house wasn't on fire.

Well, good news for them was the fact that it wasn't on fire... yet.

He checked the caller's ID, which didn't give any further information than the number in itself. Something weird was going on here. Heck, at least it had his attention for now. He was about to return to his bed, when the phone rang once again. The blond raced over to it, only to miss it. Once again, after just one ring, the caller gave up. What was up with this phone tag business? Was someone playing mind games with him? Whatever it was and whatever the motives that this person had, it certainly had his attention.

Had his attention, unlike some certain red-headed super heroine-slash-enchantress that he happened to know.


The phone hit the receiver for the second time in ten minutes.

She couldn't do this... An hour or so ago, though, she could've sworn that she did.

What if he was unresponsive and oblivious to her advances like the last time? What if he clearly wasn't interested? What if anyone got word of her failure? Sometimes she tell would herself that she didn't care about the popularity factor in and around the circles of Middleton High, but in truth, she did, though not at much as some others. If she didn't care as much as she did, she wouldn't be one of the school's cheerleaders, though it was debatable if she was dragged in or...

She was getting carried away. The girl was either going to call Ron Stoppable, or she wasn't, and that was the long and short of it. She remembered chickening out more than a half dozen times before, she promised herself that the next time would be the last time... and the last time meant that was going to give up on the young man all together.

Give up? Heck, she liked the scrawny blond before everyone else did, that was probably one of the few reasons why she held out hope. She saw the potential in him when he was wearing those cargo pants... Only thing was, she was a little more ashamed of the fact that she had that little teensy-weensy crush on him.

Nowadays, it wasn't exactly teensy-weensy, though.

'It was just a phone call,' she urged herself. Everyone was capable of doing that.

Right?

Steeling her nerves once again, she picked the telephone off of the receiver. At the pick-up of the appliance, a sudden pang of hesitance struck her.

She could do this, darn it. No more chickening out!

She had the earpiece of the phone at her ear... It was just a matter of dialing eleven numbers... No wait, twelve numbers, including the '1.' After hearing the familiar chimes, she knew that she was halfway there.

Beep-Boop-Beep...

The ringback tone sounded once, then twice... She quickly feared that her past calls would lead to Ron simply ignoring her. After the thid ringback, she conceded giving up...

...The phone just had to start ringing while he was in the bathroom, didn't it?

Rushing out of the washroom, Ron ran to the nearest location of where a phone was. In his haste, he nearly tripped over his own sneakers. With a surprising show of dexterity, though, the blond managed to stay on his feet.

Riiiiing!

Fourth Ring... It wouldn't be long before she got the answering machine.

The Caller ID showed that it was the same number that called minutes ago. With a tired sigh, he picked up the phone. This had better be worth almost losing his life for.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is Ron there?" She asked timidly.

"Speaking," he replied. The voice on the other end sounded familiar, but not exactly familiar enough. "Who is this?"

Now exactly wasn't the time was to forget her own name. She quickly took a deep breath.

"Oh... This is Tara"


End of Chapter Eight

Questions? Comments? Happy that Ben Savage is alive? Well, I know I am... Anyways... Review. I guess.