In case you haven't heard, I won two Fannies:'Best Writer' and 'Best Crossover/Fusion' for KP: TNG. A special word of heartfelt thanks to you, my readers, for your support and votes. Your response to my stories has been tremendous.
Thanks to Commander Argus, Parareru, campy, spectre666, daywalkr82, JPMod, Zaratan, Ezbok58a, mattb3671, William Raymer, suforst, Visigoth29527, whitem, Yuri Sisteble, Ace Ian Combat, JMAN2.0, Brother to Vorlons, Matri, conan98002, momike, TAZER ZERO, Darkcloud1, Supreme Admiral of the Web, MichaelCross, strength-91-possibility-none, SariahSariah, Emerald Dark Knight, TexasDad, anarcrothe, jasminevr, Necrovore, Skyagent, Wanderer3, teddybear-514, IncrediRaider8, Dixon-San, The Halfa Wannabe, Leen1, Chronos the Cat, and Molloy for reviewing and to everyone else for reading.
And, as always, my appreciation to campy for his beta and proofreading services. I've arranged for campy and mrs. campy to enjoy a weekend on Risa, where Ron will prepare their meals. Unfortunately, they have to arrange their own transportation.
Leave a review, get a response. It's fun and it's good for you. Dr. Crusher says so. Really.
Coming attractions: Kim Possible: 1776 debuts next week!
If you're in the market for some great K/R reads, I have two recommendations for you: Check out Commander Argus' Our Place on the Food Chain and its predecessor, It Finally Happened. I also encourage you to check out Mattk's Bleeding Through and its predecessors, Thunderheads on the Horizon and Bleeding Out.
If you saw it on KP, it belongs to Disney; on TNG, it belongs to Paramount.
I.
Shego looked at Lore. She'd never met anyone like him before. He was self-assured, relaxed, and he oozed malevolence. Much to her surprise, she felt a strong attraction to him, despite his odd complexion and eyes.
"Lore? That's a dorky name," she observed snidely.
"This is from someone named Shego?" he replied with a smirk.
Shego smiled. "Fair 'nuff, Golden Boy. So, tell me, why do you want the Pan-Dimensional Vortex Inducer?"
"I have some scores to settle. You?"
"Galactic domination. Or so my boss hopes," Shego replied, rolling her eyes.
Lore appraised Shego for a moment. "Galactic domination. That sounds intriguing. Though I must say I find the idea of you having a boss rather hard to believe."
Shego snorted. "Okay, employer."
Lore laughed. "Well, would you be interested in changing your … employment arrangements?"
Shego looked at Lore with surprise. "What do you mean?"
"Perhaps you'd like to enter into a partnership."
Shego looked thoughtfully at Lore before speaking. "Okay, let's say I were interested. How do I know I could trust you?
Lore laughed again. "Shego, you don't. And you never will. However, if it makes you feel better, I could have already ended your life." He then ripped a panel off the wall, twisted it, then tore it in half as if it were tissue paper.
Shego responded by firing up her plasma. "Well, I could end yours …" she said defiantly.
"Actually, you couldn't," he said matter-of-factly.
"What are you talking about?" Shego asked warily.
"I'm not human. I am an android," he answered. Then, with a leer, he added, "Though I like being with some humans, am programmed in multiple techniques and I never tire …"
For one of the few times in her life, Shego was confused. She was being propositioned by a … robot? Although he was a sentient robot. Who just happened to be dangerously attractive. And something told her he might succeed where Drakken never could.
"Okay, Tin Man, talk …" Shego said.
II.
Kim, Nechayev, Picard, Data, Du, and Ron sat at the table in the Observation Lounge. Kim couldn't help but sense the tension between Picard and Nechayev; it was palpable. While her commanding officer was seated at the head of the table, it was clear to Kim that Nechayev was indulging the captain by letting him sit in his seat. The admiral was the one with ultimate authority, and she wouldn't hesitate to use it.
"Lieutenant Du, would you please give us an update on the investigation to date?" Nechayev asked.
Will Du rose from his seat and approached the view screen that was recessed into the wall behind Picard. "As you all know …" the GJ agent began, before droning on smugly, recounting the chain of events until the present day. "Considering we had amateurs on the case, we are fortunate to know as much as we do."
Kim bristled. She was not an amateur; even if she was now wearing command red, she still took pride in being a trained Starfleet security professional. However, before she could react, Ron spoke.
"Okay, dude, that's it," he said.
Heads snapped around the table, and Kim couldn't help but fear that Ron was going to put his foot into his mouth; he wasn't exactly trained in the niceties of Starfleet S.O.P.
"Here's the lowdown from where I sit. GJ was dead in space until Kim figured out what was going on. It then took me, a cook," Ron said that with sarcasm, "to go talk to Mr. Ferengi. So, without Team Possible here, the bad guys would have that verterogenous thingie and none of us would know it."
"Mr. Stoppable," Will Du said, "It is more complex than that ..."
Ron's back stiffened. "Dude, do not talk down to me. I pay your salary." Everyone, with the exception of Kim who now expected this kind of feistiness from her boyfriend and Worf who'd already received this lecture, stared at him. Ron wondered what was wrong with these people. "What, you think money grows on trees? You all live with your Starfleet and GJ credits and forget that people like me still pay taxes."
"Mr. Stoppable," Will said condescendingly, "nobody in the Federation pays taxes."
"Oh sure, they don't call them taxes. They call them 'societal investment contributions.' But the fact is The Man is still taking money out of my pocket to pay you." Ron sat back in his chair, feeling satisfied. "And right now, I feel I'm getting a lot more for my money from the people on this ship than from Galactic Justice."
Kim sighed. One part of her wanted to slap Ron, because he'd probably just made things ferociously difficult for her. But another part wanted to kiss him, in gratitude for standing up for her and her crewmates and saying what she wanted to, but could not, say.
"Well, Mr. Stoppable, thank you, thank you very much, for that, uh, civics lesson," Picard finally said as he clasped his hands together before turning to the GJ agent. "So, Mr. Du, how do you suggest we proceed from here?"
The self-assured GJ agent arched an eyebrow. "I will take up the investigation from here. While I cannot imagine that I will need the assistance of either Lieutenant, excuse me, Ensign Possible or Mr. Stoppable going forward, I hope you will make them available to me should that change. I may also wish to call on Mr. Data's assistance in reviewing the evidence that has been gathered to date."
As Picard listened to the junior officer, the captain actually found himself wishing Ron's remarks had been sharper. Picard did not appreciate Du's patronizing, dismissive tone in the least. He was particularly displeased by the crack at Kim's expense. However, Picard knew he needed to be cooperative, especially after he had antagonized Nechayev by naming Kim helmsman. "Of course, Mr. Du. Ensign Possible will be available to you, and I am sure Mr. Stoppable will be willing to help, if asked." Picard looked at Ron as he said that, his expression telling the young man that it would be in Kim's interests for him to play along; Ron nodded his assent.
III.
As Kim exited the Observation Lounge, she noticed Yori at the tactical console. She nodded at her roommate, whom she had barely seen in the days since Ron came on board. As Kim turned to resume her station, she stole a quick glance at her boyfriend, who grinned at her.
"Mr. Data," the admiral said as she took the seat normally occupied by Deanna Troi, who removed herself to the science station, "I will assume you are prepared to begin?"
"Yes, Admiral," the android replied. "The probe is ready to be deployed."
"Good. Proceed," Nechayev replied.
"The probe has been launched."
"Admiral?" Picard asked, wondering what was happening.
Nechayev ignored him and walked up to Kim's station. "Well, Ensign. It's time to see whether you deserve to sit in that chair."
"Yes, sir," Kim replied, not sure what Nechayev had in mind. From the corner of her eye, she saw Ron give her a thumbs-up. It gratified her to know that Ron believed in her, even when he didn't know what she was going to be asked to do.
"Ms. Possible," the admiral said. "I have reviewed your service record. You were on the Nova Squadron at the Academy and twice won the Rigel Cup."
"Yes, sir."
"You also demonstrated proficient piloting skills during your recent adventure on Ras T'klar."
Kim tensed, not liking the way the admiral said 'adventure,' but tamped her anger. "Yes, sir."
"Well, that is all very good. But I would like to see just what you can do at the helm of a real ship. Mr. Data, per my instructions, has launched a probe. You are to maneuver Enterprise within 2000 kilometers of it."
No big, Kim thought.
"The probe is one light year away," the admiral continued. "We will approach it at a speed of no less than Warp Two. You will not drop out of warp until we are within 25,000 kilometers of the target."
Precision navigating. So not the drama, Kim told herself.
"During transit," the admiral continued, "you will execute a loop-the-loop and a three-revolution barrel roll. The ship will be under your manual control. From the commencement of the maneuver you will have twenty minutes to reach our destination."
"Did you say …" Picard asked, looking at Nechayev in disbelief. He recalled introducing himself to Riker by having his new executive officer dock the saucer deck with the main hull at warp speed; he had thought that was challenging. But what Nechayev was asking Possible, a much younger pilot with far less experience, to do was mind-boggling. To the best of his knowledge nothing like it had ever been attempted. Picard hated to admit it, but while he was confident Kim would successfully execute the loop, which was itself a difficult enough maneuver, he feared she would blow out of the first roll. "That's —"
"I believe I made myself clear, Captain," Nechayev said icily, as she cut him off. "Ensign, you have five minutes to prepare for the maneuver."
Kim swiveled the chair and stared directly into the admiral's eyes. She knew she was being set up to fail. But she wasn't going to let Nechayev derive any satisfaction from what she was trying to do. With steely resolve, Kim smiled and replied confidently, "Yes, sir." Then she turned to the captain, "Permission to proceed, sir?"
"Yes, Ensign," Picard replied, then looked down at the small screen on the arm of his chair and keyed in a series of commands. "Ms. Possible, I am transferring all command functions to the helm. Good luck."
IV.
Tom Carter had enjoyed a very pleasant evening with Bonnie Rockwaller, who seemed happy to stoke his resentment towards his ex-girlfriend. He couldn't help but feel smug as he thought about what Bonnie told him, in complete confidence of course, as they lay naked, arms and legs entwined after having sex. By now, Kim would have been reduced in rank. Serves her right, he thought bitterly. She had it good, and wasn't smart enough to know it.
Tom didn't know whether anything would come of his encounter with the young diplomatic protocol officer, but she was very good in bed; definitely well-connected, which could never hurt; and had a fascinating combination of acidic snarkiness and erotic charm he found strangely appealing. He was flattered when Bonnie asked him to escort her to the reception that was to be held for Ambassador Fiske and quickly accepted her invitation.
The ambitious junior officer was feeling good about the day ahead and was in Cargo Bay Six, waiting for his work team to arrive, when he heard a familiar voice over the intercom.
"Attention all hands. This is the bridge. Four minutes after my mark we will begin performing a series of high-speed maneuvers that will last 17 minutes. There is the possibility that inertial dampeners may fail. Make sure you are prepared for this contingency. Mark … NOW. Possible out"
V.
Geordi shook his head in response to the announcement, not knowing what was in store for his ship. He then noticed an incoming message. Kim was copying him on the command sequences she was entering into the helm.
"This is un-be-lievable," he muttered. Geordi looked up from the screen, then turned towards the engine room. "Okay, people, listen up, we may be in for a wild ride …"
VI.
Kim had spent the past four minutes and 22 seconds calculating and inputting the numerous variables she would need to execute the maneuvers. She was as ready as she would ever be. She glanced at the panel and noticed an incoming text message. That surprised her. She retrieved the communication and began to read.
KP,
You can do anything.
I love you. Ron
A huge smile spread across Kim's face. Count on Ron to have my back, she thought. Now she was determined to deliver the goods. She had a boyfriend to impress. And he had asked her to do a barrel roll, after all.
Flush with confidence, she stretched out her arms, rolled her head, then spoke in a calm, steady voice. "I am routing all control functions to the helm. Initiating manual override of navigational computer systems … now."
VII.
Ron was sitting on a seat that had emerged from beneath a console; he turned from the keyboard, which he'd used to send the message with Worf's assistance, and faced forward towards the viewscreen – and the back of Kim's head.
Ron had been kidding when he suggested that Kim do a barrel roll; yet now she was about to try it, and a whole lot more. He was incredibly proud of her just for keeping her cool; he was sure he'd be wigging out by now if he were in her shoes. He was also furious with Nechayev, not sure why the woman seemed to enjoy harshing on Kim. To Ron, the admiral was like Steve Barkin, but without the charm.
VIII.
Kim had successfully executed the loop, as Picard expected. He was impressed with the way his new helmsman handled the maneuver. A full loop at Warp 2.3 and the inertial dampeners never showed any sign of stress. The only evidence of what had just happened was what he'd seen on the viewscreen and the telemetry that was being relayed from the ship's external sensors.
Nechayev sat quietly as she watched the incoming data intently.
Ron grinned, resisting the urge to yell "Boo-yah!"
Kim scanned the console, satisfied with her progress.
Enterprise's new pilot looked over to the second officer. "Mr. Data, I am proceeding with the second maneuver. Keep an eye on stress levels on the engine pylons."
"Yes, Ensign," the android replied.
Kim keyed in some commands, then announced, "Warp 2.5 – 2.7 – 2.9 – Warp 3.0 and holding steady."
Picard was impressed. If Ensign Possible was going to fail, she was clearly going to do so on her terms and with flair.
"Initiating first revolution."
Everybody stared at the viewscreen, transfixed, as the stars, which had been gliding past the ship, now also spiraled. And even though the inertial dampeners were still on-line, it was not hard for many of the bridge crew to begin to feel dizzy.
Ron, for one, found himself turning green.
Worf looked at his stricken friend. "It would not be dishonorable to look away."
"Nuh uh," Ron said, clutching his stomach. "I'm not gonna miss KP's big moment."
Worf grunted, impressed by Ron's commitment to Kim and her success. Still, he hoped that Ron didn't have an … incident. That would not reflect well on anyone.
"First revolution complete," Kim announced. "Initiating second revolution."
The ship continued its corkscrew as it hurtled forward through space. Kim was feeling good about the sitch; Enterprise was handling beautifully. You rock, Dad, she thought. This ship is spankin'!
The bridge had fallen quiet. The only sounds were the beeps and pings of the various systems.
"Second revolution complete," Kim announced. "Initiating third revolution."
The ship responded to Kim's commands. Then, about one-fifth of the way through the turn, the computer voice spoke up.
"Warning: stress level on port nacelle pylon will exceed safety levels in ten seconds."
What? Kim thought. That's a surprise. "Mr. Data …"
"I am sorry, Ensign, but there were no previous indications."
Kim quickly considered the situation. "Mr. LaForge, this is the bridge; begin venting plasma from the port nacelle now!"
"You got it, Ensign!" Geordi responded, liking the idea of reducing the mass carried by the stressed pylon.
"Ensign, perhaps you should abort …" the admiral advised.
"So not going to happen," Kim said curtly. "A sudden reversal of the rotational forces on the pylon would only add to the stress. We're coming out of this turn as planned."
"Ensign," Data said, "Pressure on the pylon has been relieved."
"Good," Kim said. "Mr. LaForge, when the ship's attitude is 180 degrees from the point where the problem first arose, vent the starboard nacelle."
"Understood, Ensign."
As expected, at the predicted point, the computer announced the sudden spike in stress levels; Geordi responded as instructed and the danger passed.
Enterprise came out of its third revolution, still traveling at Warp Three.
Kim checked the telemetry on the probe; the two venting procedures had deflected the ship from its original course. She proceeded to make adjustments to the ship's trajectory.
"The probe is 150,000 kilometers dead ahead."
"Prepare to drop out of warp at my mark," Kim announced.
"One hundred thousand kilometers … 75,000 … 50,000 … 25,000 … 10—" Data reported.
"Now, Mr. Data."
"Dropping out of warp, now," he replied.
"I need one-quarter impulse, Mr. LaForge," Kim ordered.
"You got it. One-quarter impulse."
"The probe is 4,200 kilometers off the port bow," Data said.
Kim continued to work the controls.
"Are you not going to stop, Ensign?" Data asked.
"Not yet, Mr. Data," she said with confidence. "Not yet, not yet, not yet … Mr. LaForge, full stop NOW."
The Galaxy-class starship came to a full stop.
On screen was a very clear image of the probe.
"The probe," Data announced, "is … one point five kilometers off the starboard bow." He looked at Kim, a look of wonder on his face. "Most impressive, Ensign."
She smiled at Data, then, unable to suppress a grin, replied nonchalantly, "No big!"
The bridge broke out into cheers after Ron let out a hearty "Boo-yah!"
Nechayev shook her head in disbelief. "That's impossible," she said.
Ron, overhearing that comment, walked up to Nechayev and draped his arm around her shoulder. "Actually, Admiral, it's possible. Kim Possible. But that's a common mistake."
Picard stood up and approached Kim, who turned to see him. "Ensign, that was the most remarkable piece of flying I have seen in more than thirty years in Starfleet."
"Thank you, sir," Kim said, still smiling with satisfaction. She was looking up at her pleased commanding officer, then caught a grinning Ron out of the corner of her eye. She was a little less discreet than she intended. Picard noticed she had cast a glance beyond him and knew at whom she would be looking. He turned around. "Mr. Stoppable, would you care to join us?"
Ron walked over to Kim. Now red-faced from the attention, she looked at Ron, who was beaming with pride.
"That was sooooo cool, KP!" he gushed.
Picard agreed. "I must concur with Mr. Stoppable's assessment, Ensign. That was indeed … cool." The captain then looked at Nechayev. "Would you not agree, Admiral?"
Nechayev knew when to surrender gracefully. "I would, Captain Picard. You have a truly exceptional helmsman," she said. "Well done, Ensign Possible. Very well done, indeed." Alynna Nechayev may have become immersed in politics and bureaucracy, but she was still a Starfleet officer who could take pleasure in witnessing a remarkable performance.
IX.
There had been one localized inertial dampener failure.
It was in Cargo Bay Six.
While Tom Carter wasn't hurt – he had taken safety precautions – four vats had slammed against the bulkhead and burst open, covering the storage space, and the lieutenant, in green paint.
X.
Will Riker led Ron back into the Observation Lounge.
"That was quite a show, wasn't it?" the executive officer asked.
"That's my KP," Ron answered with pride.
Will grinned. "So, now that you know we've got a qualified driver, are you willing to stay on board?"
"W-eelll," Ron said, much to Will's surprise. "Look, Commander, it's great being here with Kim and all, but, you know, l, I spent too many years just, well," Ron looked away from Riker, "letting Kim carry me … I don't want a job just because I have an in …"
"Ron, this has nothing to do with Kim. Captain Picard and Admiral Nechayev have more than six decades of combined service experience, and according to the captain you prepared the single best meal either of them has ever had on board a Starfleet vessel."
"Really?"
"Ron, this is the Federation flagship and you saw what our galley was like. It's all downhill from here as you go through the fleet. Too much reliance on replicators, if you ask me," Riker said, his inner cook coming to the fore. "You know, we don't get many four-star-restaurant-caliber chefs volunteering for deep space duty. Hell, I know that the only reason we're having this conversation is because somebody in San Francisco made an incredibly shortsighted and foolish decision."
Ron thought about that. Before the incident on the moon, Ron was prepared to return to Earth to resume his culinary career; he and Kim had decided they would just have to find a way to make a long-distance relationship work. The job opportunity here was a fluke. A good fluke, but a fluke nonetheless.
"Okay, I'll stay …"
"That's great …"
"Whoa!" Ron said, holding up his hands, "you have to let me finish. I'll stay, but under certain conditions."
"Shoot. We'll see what we can do."
"What kind of quarters do I get?"
"Hmm. You'd be rated a chief warrant officer, like Mr. O'Brien. That would entitle you to a solo cabin."
"Window?"
Riker's eyebrows jumped.
"I like looking at the stars and, well, I like to see where we're going," Ron explained.
"Yes," Will answered said with a grin. "You get a window."
"Food prep area?"
Riker smiled. "Yes, since you're the ship's chef."
"Good. This rating thing. What's that about?"
"We'd enlist you in Starfleet …"
"Nope," Ron said, his arms crossed over his chest. "I stay, I remain a civilian."
"May I ask why?"
"Yeah. One, I don't know the rules all too well, but as long as I'm a civilian KP and I can date without any trouble. But if I put on that uniform, then there's the whole rank thing to mess things up. I don't want that to complicate our relationship. Second, my way, I work for Captain Picard and you. You guys leave, I can resign. I put on a uniform, I'm stuck with the next captain or, even worse, I get transferred away from Kim. Not gonna happen."
"You really have done a lot of business with the Ferengi, haven't you?" Will observed with a wry grin. "You're pretty good at this."
"Hey, what can I say? The Rondo is here to play. Now, let's talk about pay and facilities. And, oh yeah, we need to talk about Worf continuing to give me bat'leth lessons …"
Ron Stoppable had indeed come a long way from the day when he could almost be bought off with a grande-sized chimerito.
XI.
Will and Ron exited from the Observation Lounge onto the bridge. The first officer led Ron over to Picard.
"Sir, may I introduce our new ship's chef, effective immediately."
A smiling Picard stood up and extended his hand. "Congratulations, Mr. Stoppable. I'm delighted that you will be part of our crew. I am very much looking forward to our dinner with Lord Fiske this evening …"
Kim was listening to the exchange with great pleasure. She wanted to turn around and look at Ron, but she did have the helm and Nechayev was still on the bridge.
"… Admiral, do you know of any special requirements the ambassador might have?"
"I believe the person who can answer those questions would be Ms. Rockwaller."
Poor Ron, Kim thought. Less than two minutes into the job and he has to deal with Bonnie. That is so ferociously unfair!
"Very well, then. Mr. Stoppable, I will leave that conversation to you."
"You got it, Captain," Ron said brightly, masking his distinct lack of enthusiasm at having to deal with Bonnie Rockwaller. He was turning to leave the bridge when Picard called after him. "Ron, I believe Ensign Possible has earned a celebratory lunch in light of her achievement. Perhaps you would be willing to prepare something special for her?"
This time, Ron's smile was genuine. "It'd be my pleasure, Captain."
Kim turned around and beamed at Ron. The smiles disappeared, though, as the bridge was illuminated by a brilliant flash of light that deposited an unscheduled visitor to Enterprise.
"Q!" Picard snapped.
"Ah, mon capitan! You are looking bald as ever. But I'm not here to see you. I'm here to see him!" Q said as he slapped Ron on the back. "Congratulations."
"Uh, thanks," Ron replied warily.
"You know, Stoppable, you are doing Starfleet a signal service by staying on board. Maybe with a few good meals in his tummy Jean-Luc will be a happier man."
Ron was taken aback when a moment later he found himself smoking a cigar. Q turned from Ron and approached the helm.
"And here she is, Master of the Skies and Helmsman Extraordinaire! You, too, should celebrate!" Kim, who had been sitting at her station, suddenly found herself sitting in Ron's lap and, like her boyfriend, found herself puffing on a cigar. She found it (the cigar, not sitting in Ron's lap, which she very much enjoyed) to be revolting.
"Well, Jean-Luc, I should be going. And one piece of advice. When you assign young Stoppable his quarters make sure they have a sturdy bed and very soundproof walls. These two are very naughty at night! Ta ta!"
Q disappeared in a flash, leaving behind a red-faced Kim Possible and an equally embarrassed Ron Stoppable. Neither of them, after all, really felt it necessary for the bridge crew to know the details of their off-duty activities.
XII.
"KP, it'll be all right."
"Ron! It is so not all right! Everybody must think …" Kim ranted on, still agitated about Q and his remark on the bridge.
"Yeah, I guess having people know you sleep with …"
"No pity fiestas, Ron! You know that's not what I'm getting at. You know I'm ferociously proud to be seen with … why are you smiling?"
"Hey, I got you to change the subject!"
"I cannot believe you just played me!" she said indignantly, before laughing. "Okay, Chef Boy, you got me." Kim looked at her clean plate and sighed. "That was really good, Ron."
"Well, gotta keep my Kimila happy. It really was badical of the captain to let me make you lunch."
"It sure was. And it was even nicer of him to give me time to help you get settled into your new quarters," she said.
"Yeah, though it's not the old space …"
"But at least it has a window," she countered, taking his hand as she looked at the stars.
"Yeah, I know, KP. It's just that, well …"
"What? Spill!"
"The other quarters have some special, uh, memories."
Kim melted. It still stunned her that her goofy friend of more than two decades could be so sweet, even romantic. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Well, we'll just have to make some new memories, won't we?" she purred.
"Yeah, I guess we will," Ron said before a wicked grin spread over his face.
"What?" Kim asked.
"I wonder if the bed's sturdy and the walls are soundproof …"
"You are a bad boy, Ron Stoppable!"
"Yeah, what are you going to do about it, KP?"
"Why, help you test the bed and soundproofing, you big goof …"
XIII.
I'd much rather be back in my new quarters kissing Kim. You'd think Q could show up and help when I need him, Ron thought sourly as he prepared to press the chime pad. He was not looking forward to seeing Bonnie Rockwaller. He hadn't spoken with her in more than five years and he would have been happy to keep that streak going. Though he hoped Bonnie had changed – Kim, after all, had grown beyond her hottie fixation and Ron himself had given up being a slacker – he wasn't holding his breath. At heart, Kim was still Kim and Ron was still Ron. So Bonnie would most likely still be Bonnie. Oh well, he said to himself, time to suck it up and be a man, Rondo.
He pressed the button. The door slid open and he entered.
"Hello, Bonnie," Ron said.
"Oh my gosh," Bonnie said, flinching as she looked at Ron, before composing herself. "So, it's true."
"Yup, yup! Ron Stoppable is in the house," Ron quipped, ignoring Bonnie's reaction; he had had too good a day to let her get him down. "So," he said seriously, "we've got a reception and a dinner to plan."
Bonnie was surprised by this business-like Ron Stoppable.
"Yes. You sure you're up to this?" she asked, unsure of herself. It was weird enough that Ron Stoppable of all people had turned up as chef on this ship, but … his face. Bonnie had heard nothing about that.
"'Sha. A piece of cake for the Ronman."
"Ron, this isn't New Middleton you know," she said, feeling more at ease and slipping into familiar patterns of behavior. "This is serious. To be honest, I'm surprised you're the chef here."
Ron bristled. "Yeah. I'm sure you are. You probably thought I'd wind up being the guy who filled the jelly donuts. Once a loser, always a loser, right? My being here violates the food chain, right?"
Bonnie looked far less confident than Ron had ever seen her. She wasn't accustomed to him being aggressive and confident.
"Look, Bon-Bon," he continued, "it's been five years since we last saw each other. Things change. I'm not the same slacker you knew in high school, okay? I was offered this job because Captain Picard wanted me here. You got a problem with that, you talk to him. If not, let's get to work. It takes time to prepare a menu and a meal, and this isn't the only gig I have to worry about. I have to feed a bunch of hungry Klingons, including their Big Cheese, tomorrow, and then I've got to worry about some visiting Orionisi."
Bonnie just looked at Ron slack-jawed. This really wasn't the same Ron Stoppable she'd known in New Middleton. He was right. High school had been five years ago, though it seemed much further in the past. She'd gone to college where she had the right boyfriend, whose father was able to get her a slot for the diplomatic corps exam. Bonnie may have been mean-spirited, but she also knew how to be charming and how to act around dignitaries. She did well enough on the exam to be accepted into the Foreign Service. She signed on, looking forward to a career of VIPs, special parties, glamorous travel. The reality was different at first. She began by pushing padds and doing boring office work. But then she began dating a new guy, whose father was in Starfleet. Neither of them saw the relationship going anywhere, but the guy's father took a shine to Bonnie and wangled her a position on Admiral Nechayev's staff. The Federation, just like high school, had its food chains, and Bonnie knew how to climb upwards.
Yet Bonnie, despite having been trained as a junior diplomat, found that she couldn't help but stare at Ron.
She couldn't imagine what it would be like to be so … disfigured.
Finally, Ron laid down his padd. "One too many run-ins with the bullies in D Hall."
"What are you talking about?" she snapped.
"You're wondering what happened to my holofilm-star good looks. The bullies in D Hall …"
"Don't be ridiculous, Ron. You were fine when we graduated from high school," Bonnie said, sounding annoyed. "How did you let that happen to you?" she finally demanded.
Leave it to Bonnie to make it sound like I did something wrong, Ron thought. He sighed, then told Bonnie about the attack on the moon.
Bonnie just gawped. Tom hadn't told her any of that. Just that Kim had dumped him for Ron. She wondered whether Kim would have dumped Tom if she knew Ron would look like this and realized that she was projecting her own … shallowness … onto her rival. The more salient question, she realized, was whether Tom would have given up so much to protect Kim. Or her.
Finally, Bonnie spoke. "Why?"
"Huh?"
"Why did you … well, you know, your face, and …"
He looked Bonnie in the eye. "Because I love Kim," he declared. "I know you never liked her, so maybe you won't believe this, but KP's the most badical person in the universe. I couldn't let anything happen to her. Not when we were kids, not now. You should know that by now. I would have done it even if we weren't together."
Bonnie leaned back in her chair and smiled. "You would have, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah."
"Well, Ron, let me give you a piece of advice. Watch out. She's got a temper."
Ron laughed. "That I know!"
"And she hits."
"Huh?"
Bonnie, unable to help herself, smirked. "Last night she beat down her ex in a tur–"
"I know."
"You know?"
"Yeah, I know. Tom was coming onto her, she tried to push him off, he kept on going, and, well, you don't mess with KP and her 16 kinds of kung fu!"
Bonnie sat quietly. Tom hadn't told her that part of the story, either.
The two returned to the menu planning. While they reviewed the options for the next evening's event, Ron realized something was bothering him.
"How did you know?" he asked.
Bonnie looked up. "Know about …"
"The thing in the turbolift."
Bonnie did something she very rarely did – she blushed. Then she looked away from Ron. "I found him."
"Oooooh," Ron said, recognition dawning on his face.
"And then we spent the night together."
"Too much information!" Ron protested, lifting up his hands and turning his head away.
Bonnie sat quietly, lost in her thoughts.
"You okay, Bon-Bon?" Ron finally asked.
Bonnie scowled. "Why do things always work out for Kim but never for me?" she said petulantly. "I heard about you and Kim from Tom. My first thought, was, hah, she's finally dating that loser and I've got the prince! Instead, I find out she's dating the knight in shining armor and I'm with the toad."
"Well, at least the toad is better looking than the loser," Ron offered helpfully.
"You're not a loser," Bonnie mumbled.
"'Scuse me?"
"I said you're not a loser, okay? You're weird. And so is Kim. But neither of you is a loser."
"Well, from you, that's a compliment I'll treasure for the rest of my life, Bonnie," Ron said with a big grin. "So, what are you going to do about Pretty Boy?" he asked.
"Pretty Boy?" Bonnie asked, her eyebrow arched.
Ron laughed nervously. "I was, uh, kind of jealous of Carter when I came on board. I began to think of him as Pretty Boy. Anyway, what's next?"
Bonnie sighed. "I don't know. Part of me thinks I should just dump him. But he's such a hottie. And I do like him. And I so cannot believe I'm on a starship discussing my love life with you!"
Ron's grin grew larger. "You want me to keep this conversation a secret? Ya know, when I see Kim, I'll tell her you were a major pain in the behind, ragged on me, yadda yadda yadda?"
"Ugh. Kim's going to get so much pleasure from this."
"Uh, Bonnie, incoming transmission. Kim's life isn't all about you. Ya know, I'm not telling you to be best buds or anything, but maybe it's time for you two to sort of leave the feud behind. Sure, KP is the most badical, bon-diggity girl to ever attend New Middleton High, but I'm biased. You seem to have done okay for yourself, being the aide to Admiral Attila the Hun …"
"Ron!" Bonnie snapped indignantly.
"Hey, I call 'em like I see 'em. Anyway, you like Tom, fine. Maybe you two will do just fine together. But maybe you should talk to Kim, get her read on things."
Bonnie shook her head. "So, like how did you become an expert on dating?"
"Years of patient observation and failed experimentation, culminating in one, final triumphant success about a week ago?"
"You are so strange, Stoppable," Bonnie said, unable to suppress a smile.
"That may be true, Bon-Bon, but can I plan and make a meal," he said grinning. "So here's what I think we should serve the ambassador tonight …"
XIV.
"Sir, the ambassador is ready to beam over."
"Excellent, Mr. Data. Admiral, would you care to join me in Transporter Room Four?"
"Thank you, Captain."
Nechayev tapped her comm badge.
"Nechayev to Rockwaller."
"Rockwaller here."
"Ms. Rockwaller, please meet us at Transporter Room Four."
"Yes, Admiral. Rockwaller out."
"Ensign Possible, you're with me," the captain said as he rose from his command chair.
"Yes, sir," Kim answered. This would be her first duty as ADC to the captain and she was excited. As much as she missed her lieutenant's pip, she recognized just what an incredible opportunity she had been given. She'd watched a program on the Knowing Net about Ambassador Fiske and his archaeological expeditions, which had taken him across the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. Meeting him would be quite a privilege, though having Bonnie there would be weird. At least Bonnie couldn't be snarky with the dignitaries present.
The three officers boarded the turbolift and Picard gave the order to head to the transporter room.
"Captain, am I correct in recalling that you've met the ambassador?" Nechayev asked.
"Yes, I did, at an archaeological symposium on Taxel VI. His work in the field is most impressive, though I must confess that, at times, he has pushed the bounds of acceptable practice on some of his digs. There were many questions asked about his retrieval of the Ikonian Monkey idols last year …"
Kim suppressed a smile as she listened to her captain. The mention of monkeys, even, perhaps especially, alien ones, would surely have set off Ron. She wondered how he'd react to knowing he was preparing dinner for a man who actively sought out simian artifacts.
XV.
"Ambassador, welcome aboard Enterprise," the captain said, extending his hand.
"Thank you, it is a pleasure to see you again, Captain," the urbane Englishman replied. "That truly was a fascinating conference, was it not?"
"Indeed it was," Picard replied, impressed that Fiske remembered their last encounter. "I believe you know Admiral Nechayev?" he asked.
"Yes, so good to see you again, Admiral."
"Indeed, Lord Fiske. Allow me to introduce my protocol officer, Ms. Bonnie Rockwaller."
"Ms. Rockwaller, a delight," he said smoothly.
"And, Ambassador," Picard said, "allow me to introduce my ADC, Ensign Kimberly Possible."
"Ms. Possible, so nice to meet you," Fiske said.
"Thank you, sir. I've read all about your archaeological work," Kim replied. "It's fascinating."
"Why thank you. Perhaps we'll have a chance to talk some more about it at the reception this evening." Fiske then turned to Picard. "Captain, if it is not too much trouble, I would like to be shown to my quarters so I might rest before this evening's festivities."
"Of course, Ambassador. Please, follow me."
XVI.
"Constellation is ready to beam over the new crew member, sir."
"Okay, we're ready," Riker said, as he stood in Transporter Room Three.
Will watched as the familiar glimmering pattern and whining sound filled the pad. The effects faded, and the latest addition to Enterprise's crew was aboard.
Riker looked at the new arrival, who stood about three feet tall, had incredibly broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms – and the largest buck teeth he'd ever seen.
"Welcome to Enterprise, Mr. Rufus."
"It is a pleasure to be here, sir."
Will was amazed by how much the naked mole rat sounded like Worf.
TBC …