Chapter 3: Decisions
"I never thought that a vacation could be more exhausting than a mission," Ron said, holding the door to their room for Kim.
"So worth it though," she countered, staggering into the room and flopping down on one of the beds.
The two teens had just completed their first 'official' vacation day. They had arrived at the resort, tired from the road, last night. Both were up early, finding their way to the nearby beach for a full day of swimming, wakeboarding and general lounging around. Just after sundown, they had found their way to the dance club Ron had read about, where they had indulged in a fine meal, followed by lively salsa dancing. Now, exhausted beyond measure, they were staggering back into their room, intent on resting up for round two tomorrow.
"Do you want first crack at the shower?" Ron asked, slumping down on the other bed. He knew that he wanted to rinse off the sweat before he crawled into bed and he was pretty sure that Kim would want to, as well.
"Care to join me?" Kim replied. Ron looked up to respond to the joke when he caught her eyes.
Kim wasn't joking.
"I…er…um…" Ron stammered, unsure of what to say. Sure he would love to share a shower but…was it right? What would it lead to? What did Kim expect it to lead to? For one of the few times in his life, Ron Stoppable was uncomfortable and uncertain around his BFPF.
"Ron?" Kim murmured, sitting next to him and resting a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"It's…I…well…" Ron gave up trying to explain and just shrugged his shoulders, looking helplessly at Kim.
"Is it something with you?" She asked him. Then, with a hint of fear, "or something with me?"
"It isn't that," Ron told her. "It's just…I don't really know what I'm doing here. I mean, I'd love to share a shower with you but…"
"You don't know what will happen during or after?" Kim prompted. Ron nodded.
"I know that we're tired, but I think we need to talk about this," Kim told him. Ron could only nod again.
"My mother and I had a long talk the night before we left," Kim told him. "Do you know what we discussed?" Ron shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.
"Mom told me that…when the time came for us to become intimate…I would sort of have to lead you into it."
"What?" Ron squeaked. "You mean that your mom told you to…to seduce me?"
"No," Kim chuckled. "Although I jumped to the same conclusion, in about the same tone of voice." The two shared a strained giggle. "She told me that I was going to have to talk this over with you. I see she was right."
Kim sat cross-legged on the bed and tugged on Ron's hand, prompting him to do the same. The two sat facing each other, their knees touching and their fingers interlaced. Kim took a deep breath.
"I'm going to start out by repeating what mom told me," she started. "And I guess we can sort of take it from there. First, she told me how proud she was about the way we handled ourselves; about how we didn't act like a couple of hormone-crazed beasts…at least not in public." The two shared another strained smile.
"Then she told me that we were becoming adults and we were going to have to deal with the fact that we were developing very real, and adult, desires for each other. I know I'm feeling them towards you." Kim looked at him very shyly, "are you feeling them towards me?"
"You have noooo idea how much," Ron assured her.
"You'd be surprised," Kim giggled, then her expression became serious again. "She told me that we were going to have to come grips with what we wanted…physically…out of our relationship."
"KP, I…I don't really know. I mean, you can, and do, put my hormones into overdrive but I don't think I want us to be like that."
"Hey, I understand," Kim told him, squeezing his hand. "I don't really know how I want this to go, either. I do know that I'm…interested…in kind of exploring these feelings I have for you."
"KP, I'm so into wanting to do the explorage that I have trouble concentrating at times," Ron confessed. "I just don't want to do something stupid and make you mad at me."
"Ron, when you gave me this ring, you told me that you hoped we could stay together long enough to marry. When I accepted it, I told you that I agreed with you. By wearing it, I'm telling you that I still feel that way. Do you?"
"Of course."
"You realize that when we get married, and probably before that, we're going to include…intimacy…in our relationship."
"I'm looking forward to it," Ron answered, having trouble meeting her eyes while speaking.
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," she insisted. "Even though I'm blushing like mad myself. Ron, even after we marry, do you think that the only time we're going to…well, you know…is when we want to have children?"
"I've never thought that much about it," Ron admitted. "The whole idea of a girl wanting to…you know…with me seems just so impossible. To be perfectly honest, I've known that you're a totally gorgeous girl for a long time but still thinking of you in those ways seems…wrong somehow."
"Why, Ron?" She asked. There was no pleading or accusation in her voice, simply a desire to understand why he felt the way he did.
"I really can't describe it," he replied.
"Try, for me."
"Okay, here goes. We've been friends for a long time and I'm closer to you than I am to my own parents. I love you and I love being with you. Somehow, the thought of trying to…you know…with you just seems like I'd be…betraying…that."
"Okay, mom said you might feel that way," Kim smiled at his look of shock. "Ron, did it ever occur to you that I'd want to, as well? When the time comes, it's not going to be you manipulating me or…imposing on me. It's going to be a decision we reach together." She now smiled ruefully, "to be honest, I don't want to manipulate you, either. In a way, I kind of hope you make the first move, so I know I'm not, you know, seducing you."
"KP, I don't know when the right time is going to be, but I'm pretty sure it isn't right now. I mean, we're over eighteen and we're out of high school, but we have a long way to go before we're really adults. Okay, maybe we're ready to be more adult but I don't think we're ready to be completely adult, if you know what I mean."
"Mom told me that you were probably just as nervous as I am," Kim gave him a shy smile. "And she said that that was why we had to talk about things. So that neither of us would make the other one uncomfortable."
"Maybe that's what has me so scared," Ron murmured. "We're really getting into new things. I mean, we sleep in the same bed but we've done that when we were kids and we've crashed together coming back from missions so many times that we were comfortable doing it."
"That gives me an idea!" Kim declared. She hopped off the bed and ducked into the bathroom, leaving a very confused Ron staring at the door. Minutes later Kim, now clad in her swimsuit, stepped back into the room.
"Here," she said, tossing Ron's trunks to him. "I'll start the shower and you can join me in a few minutes. Is this okay with you?"
"Yeah," Ron said.
"It's okay with me as well," Kim replied, slipping back into the bathroom.
Ron changed and waited for a few minutes before joining Kim under the warm, running water. The first order of business was to get clean. They washed each other's backs and Ron helped Kim with her long hair. Afterwards, they dried off and Ron returned to the bedroom to change into his pajamas while Kim did the same in the bathroom. Minutes later, the teens curled up together in one of the beds.
"Did you enjoy that?" Kim asked, resting her head on Ron's chest.
"Very much," Ron admitted. "You?"
"I didn't realize it was so handy to have someone help me with my hair," she giggled. "Seriously though, when I offered to share the shower, I didn't really know if I wanted us to wind up having…" she snorted a chuckle. "Okay, that was a lie. I really want to make love to you but I don't know if it's right, if you can understand what I'm saying."
"I think I do," Ron held her close. "For all that we've known each other almost all of our lives, we've only been dating for a little over a year and we're still very young. It might not be the right time just now."
"I think that mom gave me some great advice," Kim declared. "We need to be able to talk to each other about this. It's a little embarrassing, but you are so worth it."
"So are you, KP," Ron whispered, his voice starting to slur a little with his exhaustion. "But right now, the Ronster is going to need his sleep if he's going to be ready to spend a day at the zoo tomorrow."
"I know the feeling," Kim yawned. "Now, since I forgot to pack Pandaroo, you'll just have to do."
Minutes later, two smiling teens were sleeping peacefully, dreaming about a future together.
As Kim and Ron were drifting off, contemplating what was to come, an elderly man, living on a Mediterranean Island, looked out of his bedroom window at the morning sun.
"It would have been much more symbolic to look at a setting sun," Senior Senior Senior thought. "But the world is not perfect. No matter, I still have some sunsets to contemplate. Now, it is time to deal with such matters left for me to resolve."
The old man used his cane to press a button on his inter-lair communication system. Moments later, the central computer located his son and established a communications channel. Very bad music assaulted the elderly villain's ears as he realized that his son was in the studio, practicing his music. Still, as bad as the music sounded, it was a vast improvement over what he had heard the previous week.
"What is it father?" Junior asked with a very pouting voice. "I am practicing my bagpipes in an effort to become an international teen pop sensation."
"I am sorry to interrupt, my son," Senior apologized. "But I have an urgent matter to discuss with you. Meet me at the side of the pool in a half-hour." The elderly man paused. "I confess that I do not remain current with teenaged music trends, but aren't bagpipes an unusual instrument to use for such music?"
"I am seeking a new sound!" Junior answered, full of enthusiasm, "the new gimmick that will propel me to the heights of popularity!"
"Last week I thought your big idea was using a jackhammer as a percussion instrument."
"It is still a very big idea, papa." Junior assured him. "Last night, while you were on the mainland, myself and one of the musically inclined henchpersons played a duet to test my groundbreaking musical theory."
"I am very impressed," Senior assured his son. "How did your performance work out?"
"To be perfectly honest, not so well," Junior admitted. "The sounds of my bagpipes drove the seagulls away from our shores and they have yet to return. On a happier note, the percussion solo eliminated the troublesome boulder from the Bocce court."
"Very good son, but meet me at the pool, at the time I requested. I must speak to you man-to-man."
"Very well, father."
Senior struggled to his feet and made his way to the pool, leaning on his cane much more than he had ever recalled doing so. One of his ever-present servants helped him sit in a lounge chair and fetched a cool drink for the old man. Soon, the half-hour was up and Junior arrived at the pool.
"Very well father, what is this importantly important item that you want to discus with me?"
"Junior, I do not know how to make this easy upon you. It has to do with my recent trip to the mainland."
"Oh!" Junior gasped. "Has the era of the hot, stylish male singer ended? Has my dream of pop stardom ended before it could truly begin?"
"I confess that I do not know," Senior smiled indulgently at his son. "I regret to inform you that I did not take the time to observe either the music or the teen culture scene. Instead, I visited a doctor. I will not be here much longer, my son."
"Oh, have you decided to purchase that island in the Caribbean, like you were discussing some weeks ago?"
"No Junior, I fear that I will not be making any more major acquisitions, although that island's warm, sunny atmosphere would have provided some welcome variety to our island's warm, sunny atmosphere."
"Then were are you going, and when will you return?" Junior seemed confused.
"Junior, I am dying," the old man told his son. "I journeyed to the mainland to visit a doctor. I have been feeling more fatigued than usual and I wanted to find out why."
"But father," Junior protested. "You have a doctor visit the island every year! Why did you not summon the doctor to the island?"
"This doctor had equipment that could not be transported," Senior told him. "This is not important, my son, what is important is that I have only one half of a year, nine months at the most, left in this world."
"But father, certainly there is something we can do, other doctors perhaps?"
"I am afraid not, my son," Senior's voice was both indulgent and gentle "This doctor gave me a long list of other professionals to consult, but I have no doubts about his findings. I have reached the last of my long life, my son, and it is time to settle my affairs before passing on."
"But father, what is the point of incredible wealth if you cannot use it for incredible things? Even if it is your heart, surely we could find someone and give his or her family vast wealth in return for his heart."
"It isn't just my heart, my son. I am over eighty years old, and my body is breaking down. To be honest I am growing weary. The end is coming and although I do not welcome it, I accept it."
"Father…" Junior sobbed.
"Junior, let us not argue about my passing, neither of us can prevent it. Instead, I require your assistance in making sure that all of my affairs are in order before I leave this world."
"Leave this w…" suddenly, Junior seemed to fully comprehend what his father was telling him. "What will I do without you, father? I need your wise, if misguided direction. I cannot face the world…alone!"
"I know this, my son, and you are the most important thing in my life. I wish to make sure that you are cared for, after I am gone. Once I have assured myself that you will be well looked after, I will be able to tie up any of my other affairs. To do this, we must seek out someone who will care for you and support you, no matter what. Junior, I wish to see you wed before I pass away."
"M-m-married," Junior stammered. "But father, I have had very bad luck with girls! My blue fox rejected me and she who I thought was the love of my life proved incapable of withstanding a simple, romantic gesture."
"What is this?" Senior asked.
"My Christmas present to her drove her insane," Junior explained. "But the point is that every time I give a girl my heart, she leaves me! How can I possibly find my soul mate in a few months when I have not managed to do so for years? I am sorry father, but I do not think that I will be able to comply with your wishes."
"My son, you have already given me a wonderful gift!"
"I have? What is it?"
"One final challenge," Senior explained. "In the short time I have left in this world, I will find you your soul mate! I will need to find a girl that is shallow, who appreciates your movie star looks and can help you manage the vast wealth that I will leave you. If she has at least a little bit of villainy in her, so much the better."
"You will do this for me?" Junior gasped. "Even in the last few months of your life?"
"Of course! It will be a wonderful diversion," Senior declared, returning to his feet. "I will start by contacting Mr. Rotiffle. He seemed well on his way to finding you your soul mate when you met Miss Rockwaller. For that matter, I shall also consider Miss Rockwaller and Miss Possible! One of them may have had a change of heart. Fear not, my son, I will find you your future wife, so that you will not be alone when I leave."
"But father!" Junior protested. "I do not want a wife, no matter how beautiful, shallow or impressed with my wealth, if it means losing you!"
"I am sorry, my son, but losing me is unavoidable," Senior sighed. "So please, indulge your father this last endeavor. Let me look to your happiness one, last time."
Happy to have a task to accomplish, Senior made his way to his technology lair, showing a great deal more spring in his step than he had when he ventured to the pool a few minutes ago. Once seated at the computer terminal, he transferred enough wealth into his 'ready money' account to tempt the programmer. Then he composed a message to Mr. Richard Rotiffle, informing the programming genius that the Seniors wanted to hire his services. Minutes later, the elderly man realized that it was still nighttime at Rotiffle's location. No matter, the genius was sure to be interested in the amount of money Senior Senior Senior was prepared to pay, once he woke up.
As the elderly man decided to make a list of traits he found desirable in a daughter-in-law, and with which his son would agree, the hyperspace inquiry he had instigated activated an alert program, set in place by one Mr. Wade Lode. In Middleton, Wade's computer activated an alarm, which roused the young genius from his pleasant dreams about solving all of the world's energy needs by using a coronet and a typewriter.
If Kim Possible was ready to leap into action at any time and Ron Stoppable was slightly less ready, Wade Lode was even more ready at any time. After all, someone had to filter Kim's calls and for all of Wade's programming abilities, his software wasn't as good as human judgment. While the hero business woke Kim up frequently, it woke Wade up constantly. Therefore, Wade's brain was fully awake by the time the reached his computer.
"Well Rufus, it looks like the Seniors are going to try to hire Ricky's services again," Wade told the little mole rat, who he was watching while Kim and Ron were on vacation.
"Uh-oh," Rufus commented, after climbing onto Wade's shoulder.
"I won't read the content of the message, but it appears that Senior has prepared a lot of money for transfer and he just returned from one of Europe's most exclusive doctors."
"Hmmm…why?" Rufus squeaked.
"I don't know," Wade confessed. "But the money he's prepared to pay Ricky is roughly the amount Junior paid for the hyper personals search last year. Whoa, now Senior's sending a request to Kim's site. This I will look at!" Wade displayed the request on his screen.
"Hrnk! Sick and wrong," Rufus snorted, once he had read the message. "Kim and Ron, not Junior!"
"No argument here," Wade flinched. "What does it mean, Rufus? Senior visits a doctor, then he frees up a lot of money, even for him. Then he contacts one of the most talented computer programmers in the world. After that, he invites Kim to travel to his island and compete in some sort of 'marry Junior' contest."
"Dunno," Rufus squeaked back.
"Neither do I," Wade admitted. "But I've got to do something. I'm not going to interrupt Kim and Ron's vacation about this, but I think a tip to Global Justice is in order."
Wade hit a few keys, which summed up his findings, then forwarded these findings to Global Justice's website. Since Wade, as a Team Possible member, had a special email address, he was pretty sure the proper people inside the worldwide crime-fighting organization would have it very shortly. Since Wade was a little wound up, he and Rufus played a couple of computer games to relax. Finally, both went back to bed, satisfied that they had done what they could to thwart what had to be another, evil plan.
Far to the northwest of where Rufus and Wade were drifting off to sleep, a large figure stalked into a hidden, Seattle laboratory. Two technicians, the only people Bigfoot trusted to see the unique, production facilities, greeted their employer. Bigfoot pulled off the burqa, revealing Warmonga's exotic features.
"Report," the giant woman instructed the two technicians.
"All production is normal," the senior of the two reported. "We're meeting our customers' consumption but we're not going to be able to keep up with our expanding market for more than a week. Bottom line up front, we need more production tanks."
"Since we've filled this lab up, we either need to open a new lab or move to a larger one," the other technician concluded.
"Sometimes success can be more difficult to deal with than failure," Warmonga murmured, repeating a lesson her late lover had taught her. "Very well, have our delivery boys include a request when they deliver the medicine and product today. Figure out how much floor space we need."
"How much product do you predict we will need to produce?" The senior technician asked.
"Three times our current production," Warmonga declared. "When we need to exceed this level of production, we'll increase our production again."
"Will three times be anywhere near enough?" The second technician asked. "Our distributors say that they're ready to move into the rest of the U.S., as well as Canada and Central Amer…"
"No!" Warmonga snarled at the man. "We will NOT expand our activities across national borders. We will keep our activities limited to the northwest. I know that we have a much larger, potential market but I have no intention of drawing nationwide attention and I most certainly will not alert Global Justice to my activities. We are making plenty of money and we will make even more. Now, the distributors I convinced to work for me know their areas of this city very well. Get them to work finding us a secure, sizable production space."
"That takes care of our manufacturing space but what about the production tanks?" The senior technician asked.
"I guess it's time to go shopping again," Warmonga told him. "You get the space, and get it within four days. I'll get the vats after that. Now, do you have the deliveries ready?"
Taking the hint, the two technicians went back to their duties, collecting and labeling the drugs and medicines for distribution later that day. Warmonga walked through a door and into her private office. Sitting in her oversized chair, she picked up a telephone and spent several minutes routing her call through several cell services, making the call, at the least, difficult to trace.
"Hello," a tired sounding voice responded to her call.
"Willie," Warmonga greeted the answering voice. "It's Bigfoot. I need another delivery."
"Wha…you need more of these things already? What are you using them for?"
"Willie, Willie, Willie," she chided. "You know I buy from you because you don't ask questions, but you've just asked two in the same breath! Isn't my money good?"
"Yeah, the cash is good so I only have two more questions; how many units and when do you need them?"
"Now those are the questions I like to hear," Warmonga told him. "Four times the size our previous delivery and I need it within the week."
"Whoa, that might be tricky, but I should be able to put it together. Where do you need it."
"I'll let you know when you have it ready to deliver," Warmonga told him. "One more thing, I need an industrial sized, medical incinerator at the same time. Can you do it?"
"Yeah, but that means a full sized truck. We're going to have to conduct the transfer somewhere more…urban…than our usual places."
"We'll work with that after you get the unit, how much will it cost me?"
"I have to check with my own supplier," Willie admitted. "I'll call you in 24 hours. Does that work for you?"
"There's another question I don't mind hearing," Warmonga told him. "Good enough. Go back to sleep, Willie, and dream of the dollars you're about to get."
"Fair enough, I'll talk to you tomorrow." The line went dead.
Warmonga stood up and strode through another door, into her private quarters. As was her habit, she opened up a hidden safe and checked on her most prized possession; a miniature cryogenic storage canister. After assuring herself that the contents were still safely in stasis, she closed the safe and prepared for bed.
She touched the last, fading remnants of the scars she had taken when she seized control of most of Seattle's illicit drug trade. For the former DNAmy, life was a series of challenges and lessons. Most of her internal organs were redundant, meaning that she could withstand incredible punishment, including a bullet's penetrative trauma, before she became incapacitated. This trait, combined with her regenerative abilities, made her a formidable opponent in the criminal underworld.
"You'd be proud, Warrick," she murmured to her late lover. She knew that speaking to the dead wasn't exactly logical, but it was her way of dealing with her loss. "I'm acquiring my resources. Soon, I'll have enough steady income to fund my next stage. The tricky part is going to be maintaining an income that's high enough to fund my activities but low enough to avoid too much attention. Still, I'm working through enough layers that even if some of my distributors are caught, I should be able to avoid suspicion."
"I remember reading a series of science fiction books when I was an undergraduate student," she continued. "While the books were interesting, the movie and the made for TV miniseries were horrid. However, one thing from those books has stuck with me all these years, some of the villains. These villains were an undersized race of humanity, geniuses in genetic sciences that most of the other races despised. These villains called genetics the language of God. How true that statement has turned out to be! If only Shego, Monty, Team Possible and Global Justice could see what I'm doing now! I think that they would have nightmares for the rest of their lives despite having to admire my genius."
The large, green woman lay back in her oversized bed and allowed herself to relax. "It may take years, my love, but soon I'll take my revenge upon Shego, the woman who humiliated me and Ron Stoppable, the man who killed you."
A/N:
Three chapters down. I'd like to thank everyone who's stuck with me through my earlier tales and on into this one. Big thanks to Joe Stoppinghem, who's taking time away from his own writing to beta for me. If you're waiting for his next work, blame me and not him!
Seriously though, I'd like to think that I've improved from the early chapters of Ron Goes to the Mat. The Kimmunity is an incredibly supportive and friendly group to write for. Thanks for reading these bizarre thoughts that I put into writing.
Until my next update, best wishes;
daccu65