Welcome back to fun, exciting competition, and a small measure of redemption for a cheerleader who made a bad choice in my previous story.

Thanks to all readers and especially to the reviewers: CajunBear73, darthrodrick, David Falkayn, Bobtrumpet, Jimmy1201, and MrDrP.

Disclaimer: Disney owns Kim Possible.

Chapter 5
"Tune a Sand Wedge on Wry, and Cheesecake"

"All right squad, before we get down to business, I heard a bit of news from my computer guy this morning. Apparently there was a surge of activity on the school's servers overnight. A certain video titled 'Mystery Blonde Stretching in Woods' was downloaded and shared a couple thousand times. It was this close to going viral, but then a clip of a platypus wearing a fedora dropped and started drawing all the clicks."

Jessica stood up and took a bow to a round of applause. "Kim, any way your guy can find out if Tiny's downloaded the video? I'd really love to tell Traci Sandisfield her boyfriend's drooling over my ass. Shove that 'didn't know you had a brother' right in her face."

"Let me check on that."

"So what's the format for this event?" Hope asked.

Crystal spoke up. "Liz's boyfriend calls it 'alternate shot.' Just like the last two days we choose four of us, then one girl tees off, another takes the second shot, and so on until we get the ball in the cup. We play one hole for all the marbles. If one side takes more shots than the other, they lose. If there's a tie, we play another hole."

"Who's good at this game?" Kim asked. "I hope you're not expecting me to play, I have bad associations with golf."

"You ought to sneak your BF into the sixth-hole palace for some happy fun times," Jess told her captain. "I never knew how much I liked golf until we tried that."

"Logan the golfer took a bunch of us to the practice range yesterday after the race and had us hit some buckets," Liz explained. "And we might get permission to go back there during gym and lunch today. According to him, Crys should tee off and Marcella and I should handle our putting. Someone just has to get us onto the green."

"That's my job," said Jess. "Call me Hermione, with a wedge for my magic wand."

"Hermione? I had you as the loony blonde one," Hope said.

"So how come you and Steve didn't come with us yesterday?" Marcella asked. "He said you might."

"Massage therapy," she said blandly. "It was a strenuous run. Lots of stiffness to work out."

"Uh huh," scoffed Crystal. "If Home Run King was rubbing down Mystery Blonde I can guess what got stiff."

"And how it got worked out," put in Liz.

"Cowgirl style?" speculated Hope.

"Yee haw. Extra haw," Tara deadpanned.

"How long was it stiff?" Marcella wondered.

"You asking about size or duration?" from Crystal.

"Any way you run the numbers my shortstop has hall-of-fame stats," declared Jess. "And you, T? Experience any stiffness after your sprint?"

"It wasn't a problem."

Her friends examined the moon-faced blonde closely.

"You two haven't actually done the deed yet, have you?" Liz said.

"And I should answer that, why?"

"I thought for sure they'd do it right there on the mountain yesterday after T's big sprint," said Marcella.

"Ask the seismologists at the college, maybe they picked up some good vibrations," said Hope.

"Forget seismologists," said Crystal. "If they'd done it up on the mountain we all would've felt the shakin'."

"Believe me, when G-man crosses home plate it'll be obvious on that face," declared Jess. "May as well put it on the sign out front of school."

Tara remained expressionless. "Ya think?"

"Forget it, ladies," said Bonnie. "Tara's not giving anything up today … to us, anyway."

"She's totally … what's the word I'm looking for?" asked Liz.

"Inscrutable?" suggested Kim.

The cheerleaders dressed for the event in their locker room, as with the previous day, mindful that it might be their last chance.

Kim told Jess that Wade couldn't find any evidence that Tiny had downloaded her video. "But someone else could have shared it with him."

"Thanks, Kim."

The girls had decided that Jess's lucky golf apparel was worth adopting squad-wide, so scissor blades flashed and old denims became Daisy Dukes for all, paired with crop tops artfully distressed with ragged edges and strategically placed slashes and holes. Again, several girls tried bralessness.

"It's so weird taking fashion advice from Jess," said Marcella as she checked her reflection in the large mirror.

"What's that supposed to mean?" the freckled blonde said crossly.

"C'mon Jess," Liz said, "you have to admit your fashion sense isn't always the best."

"Cough Smarty Mart plaid skirts," gibed Bonnie.

"I do not have any Smarty Mart skirts in my closet!" Jess protested. This was technically true; her last one was in the wash.

"Some of my clothes are from Smarty Mart," Tara offered.

"And on you discount looks like 99 million bucks," Hope said. "On Jess, discount is the new flour sack."

"Stupid clothes," Jess grumbled. "Wish I could just wear bikinis all the time. Or better yet, go naked."

They got to Farley's Pitch-and-Putt about the same time as their opponents did. The sports girls were dressed similarly to the day before except their shorts and tops were in the school colors today and some girls were baring the midriff.

The opposing sides mingled for some pre-match posturing à la GWA while the AV club hyped the proceedings with interviews and recaps of the previous events.

One cheerleader spotted someone she needed to speak to. She slipped away from her team and strode over to where he sat. "Hi Felix."

Felix Renton spun his chair around to fix his blue eyes on his ex. "Hey, Hope. How's your senior year been so far?"

"It's going okay. How about yours?"

"I can't kick," he wisecracked.

Amusement flashed across her face, then she got serious. "I want to apologize for the way I treated you at the pool party, Felix. It was so flawed for me to ditch you like that. You're a cool guy and—"

He put up a hand to stop her. "It's okay, Hope, I think I knew before our first date was even half over we were never going to make it as a couple. You could never go for a guy with my handicap."

"Felix, the wheelchair is not important to me —"

He stopped her again. "I believe you, Hope. I've never called myself handicapped because of my chair, and you were great about treating me as just a normal guy. No, the handicap I brought into our relationship wasn't that."

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

"My handicap that doomed us is that I'm a guy your parents approve of."

She smiled poignantly. "You know me pretty well after one-and-a-half dates."

"They were eventful dates," he said. "Especially the half."

"Well, I needed to say I'm sorry. And I'm glad we talked."

"Me too."

"See you around the hallowed halls."

"Even if I see you first," he said. "And Hope?"

"Yeah?"

"If you were going for 'drop-dead sexy' with that outfit, you totally nailed it."

She gave him the kind of smile cheerleaders usually reserve for the football hero. "I was, and thanks," she said, and walked away with an extra sway in her hips.

Felix watched her go, as anyone would have.

"I'm not sure she's your type," said an amused voice behind him. "But she's sexy enough, I guess."

He turned to face the speaker. She was a medium-height girl with a pretty face, long black hair that hung in bangs over big, dark brown eyes, light brown skin and a lithe, attractive figure dressed in a sleeveless top and flared trousers.

"Middleton High is full of beautiful, sexy girls," he said with unfeigned sincerity.

She smiled back warmly and fingered the tiny silver Sword of Elsinore pendant dangling from her necklace. "You a golf fan?"

Coach Barkin had moved football practice to before school for Thursday and Friday afternoon. He'd made some excuse about league-wide athletic directors conferences scheduled for the afternoons, but most people figured he feared a player mutiny if his team couldn't attend the last two events of the Spirit Week Showdown. That meant Kim Possible, Megan Hadley and Traci Sandisfield got to have their boyfriends present at the golf event, and the uncoupled girls had Food Chain gold to prospect for.

"Ah, golf. The Auld Game," Ron Stoppable said. "That reminds me, what's our auld acquaintance Duff Killigan doing these days?"

"Five to ten in Supermax last I checked," Kim replied, "which was five to ten minutes ago."

"Worried about your mad golfer foe?" asked Tara.

"Not so much worried, but I do like to know where he is if I'll be someplace where golf balls come by the bucketful."

"Just one of Duff's exploding kind is enough to spoil your whole afternoon," Team Possible's blond member observed.

"Boom!" piped up Rufus from out of Ron's cargo pocket, and the little mole rat clutched his chest and acted out a death scene.

Just then a news van from the local TV station drove up, and Summer Gale got out accompanied by a cameraman.

Summer found Kim, who called over her co-captain as well as Megan and Traci, and the four discussed the feature Summer had been dispatched to prepare.

"Now if I understand correctly all four of you girls are dating Mad Dog football heroes at this time? Are the boyfriends with us here? Let's get them in the shot."

Ron, Kyle and Tiny joined the girls.

"I count only three big hunky boys here. Is one missing, or do I have a different story than I expected?" Summer joked.

"I'm actually just out of a relationship with last year's quarterback Brick Flagg," Bonnie said. "I'm taking some 'me' time."

"After trying and failing to take Kyle away from Meg," Traci said through a phony smile.

"Oh my, has a simple sports feature turned into a huge teen relationship soap opera? Stay tuned, Middleton!"

"No soap here, Summer," Meg said. "Bonnie was just complimenting Kyle on some pinpoint passing. We're all good friends."

"That's right Summer," Kim added quickly. "And we leave friends' boyfriends alone."

A few yards away the cheerleaders recalled the incident.

Crystal began. "I can't believe how Meg just laughs off the way Bonnie threw herself at Kyle at that party."

"I know, right?" said Marcella. "With her shirt unbuttoned to her navel and a skirt that looked like a wide belt …"

"I mean, sure, Megan's got the sensational legs, but against Bonnie's … everything?" said Hope.

Kevin snorted.

"Something you'd like to share with the class, G-man?" Jess prompted.

"Never mind."

"C'mon, Kevin, spill it," Liz demanded.

"Okay, let me put this as diplomatically as I can. Kyle's not the stereotypical Mad Dog jock; he's an honor roll student. And if Bonnie, Meg and a bunch of guys with three-digit IQs were castaways on a tropical island, I'm betting the next generation wouldn't need to climb the trees to pick coconuts."

Crystal, Hope, Liz, Marcella and Jess walked away considering the chess captain's enigmatic words. "Oh I get it. 'Cause they'd be tall …"

Tara was looking at her beau curiously. "Okay, how did you basically tell my best friends that a girl who's not me is really sexy and still make me like you even more?"

He put his hands on her hips and pulled her close. "I guess I'm Just. That. Good."

She draped her arms over his shoulders. "Mmmm, true dat."

"I've got a compliment for you, if you want one."

"Lay it on me, Mr. Smooth Talker."

"You do the braless thing better than it's ever been done."

She smiled.

Summer Gale finished her interview with the captains and decided to stay to tape some of the golf action.

Finally the two foursomes were called to the tee box. Steve had arranged for them to play the hole from a greater distance than the pitch-and-putters normally did, so Crystal and Allie Crowley had number six irons in hand when they tossed a tee for first shot honors. It fell pointing to Crystal. She prepared to tee off.

On the school bus taking the girls' soccer team to their away game, Manni Pewlative watched the live stream on her phone and hoped someone would set off an air horn just as the cheerleader swung at the ball.

At the Pitch-and-Putt Crystal went into her ritual of addressing the ball, drew back her club, and made a beautiful swing that sent the ball directly at the flagstick, though a bit too strongly.

"Get down!" Steve and Logan urged the ball, which looked like it was going to fly well past the green. Fortunately a gust of wind knocked it down and it landed in a sand trap just yards from the hole.

"Dammit!" the exotic-looking girl fumed. "Hit it too hard!"

"That's okay, Crys, that's not a bad place if the ball's not buried too deep," Jess said.

"Yeah, Crys, Jess can totally get you guys a makeable putt from there," Steve reassured the girl.

Now it was Allie's turn to tee off for the sports girls. The scrappy brunette took her stance, waggling her bottom a few times as she readied herself, then she swung and … totally mis-hit the ball. It went about twenty yards forward and off to the left into some tall grass.

Things were looking pretty good for the cheerleaders, provided they could get out of the sand.

Traci Sandisfield went to look at the sports girls' ball in the tall grass.

"Wait, why is she going to hit? Isn't it our turn? She's cheating!" Bonnie said.

"No, she's not; it's her turn. They're away," Steve explained.

"Away? But they're right here."

"They're farther from the hole than your side's ball," Logan clarified. "They keep shooting until they get closer."

Traci wavered between the six iron and a seven; her side's adviser, a golf teammate of Steve and Logan's named Pete counselled the seven iron but she went with the six. Her shot started out low and looked to be heading for disaster quickly.

"No way that stays in bounds," said Logan.

"Which means what?" Bonnie asked.

"Penalty stroke against them before they even get on the green," Steve explained. "It would take a miracle to get them home in four."

Steve's assessment of the situation proved premature and overly optimistic. The miracle was about to happen. Everyone watched as the dimpled sphere flew high over the flagstick, then hit a rock outcropping and ricocheted back toward the green, likely to end up in trouble in the other direction. Then it bounced once on the closely mown green, hit the flagstick marking the hole, shot straight up in the air, fell to the grass about three feet from the hole, and slowly rolled until it came to rest two inches from the cup. The crowd cheered.

The sports girls suddenly had a three virtually guaranteed with the cheerleaders in the sand trap.

Everyone still near the tee began to walk to the green to watch the finish.

Bonnie gripped Logan's upper arm. "What just happened?"

"Luckiest shot I've ever seen," the sandy-haired boy said.

Beth Becket, putter in hand, and Jess approached their balls. Jess began examining her lie in the sand.

"Want me to go ahead and putt out, Jess?" Beth asked as she passed by the freckle-faced blonde.

"She could still miss it, right?" Bonnie asked. "There's a chance?"

"It's … not completely impossible, I guess," Logan conceded.

"Miss it miss it miss it …" murmured Bonnie.

"Just pick up the ball, Beth," Jess told her opponent. "It's good."

"What did she just do?"

"She conceded the putt," Logan explained. "You guys need a three to stay alive."

"Why would she do that?!"

Logan shrugged. "To be a good sport? It was only two inches."

"Giving away our locker room? Can I protest this?"

"Maybe ask Ms. Moran for a ruling, Bon Bon, I'm just coaching staff," the annoyed boy said, shaking loose from the brunette cheer co-captain and moving to Liz's side.

"Here, stud, hold this," Jess told her boyfriend as she handed him the sand wedge. She didn't want to carry it until she'd examined her situation closely, lest she accidentally ground the club in the hazard and cost her side the hole under match play rules.

She examined the lie of her ball in the sand. Not bad at all. It wasn't sitting entirely on top of the sand, but you certainly wouldn't call it buried.

Then she examined the green to see where she wanted the ball to go. Aiming right for the hole would be dumb. She'd never leave it close enough for Liz to have a realistic chance for the tie.

Up the slope there, that was where she wanted the ball to go. Land it in the right spot and it would roll down to where Steve had put the hole.

"When is she going to hit the ball?" Bonnie moaned. "This is so boring!"

"It's an important shot for you guys, Bonnie," Steve said. "There's a lot to consider."

"She seems really confident," Kim said to Steve. "Can she really make something good happen here?"

"You saw Traci's shot. Anything is possible."

"That's my line. What do you think the chances are we tie this hole?"

"How well can Liz putt?"

Kim shrugged. "Beats me."

"Maybe one chance in ten Jess gets you within three feet."

"She is so milking this," Tara said. "And I think I know why. C'mon, Kev." She led him over to the news cameraman.

"Hi!" she said brightly. "Can you do me a favor? Remember that brunette captain with the amazing cleavage and her boyfriend the big football player? Get lots of tape of them. Zoom in; especially on him. Might be worth your while."

"Anything for you, cutie," he said.

Jess continued to plan her shot. Squatting down to examine the slope of the green from her target spot to the hole, leaning over with hands on knees to examine her ball in the sand closely. Being the only teen doing anything but standing around, she was the center of attention. And dressed the way she was … Mr. Farley's grass would be extra green this week because male drool was unspooling all over the course.

Finally Steve brought Jess the wedge. "Babe, I'm gonna have to beat up all these guys soon if you don't take your shot."

"I'd rather you beat up the guys who aren't enjoying the show."

"That'll be easier; there aren't any of those. That last pose you struck has Traci ready to dunk Tiny in the nearest water hazard. Girl gets any madder she'll have literal steam coming out of her ears like a cartoon. And Tara made sure the cameraman caught Tiny on tape."

"Well okay, I guess I'll just win us a golf match, then."

She took the club from him, accepted a kiss for luck, gave one back just for fun, and walked into the sand trap.

She took her stance, remembering the tips Steve had given her for sand play. Feet aligned aiming to the left of her target, shoulder width apart, ball nearer the front foot. Knees bent, almost as if she were seated. Nice view for the boys behind her. Open the clubface just so, aim for a spot two inches behind the ball—no, let's go one-and-three-quarters. Slap the sand with the club and remember to follow through.

"What's she doing? She–she's not even aiming for the hole!" sputtered Bonnie.

"Shush, Bon Bon!" Steve said sharply. "Jess knows what she's doing."

"Does she actually expect to sink this?" Kim whispered to Steve.

"She really wants to make a major contribution to your win," he replied as quietly. "It'd take some luck, but she feels lucky."

Jess drew back her club and swung, following through in textbook fashion. The ball emerged from a spray of sand and hit the fringe of the green, then rolled a few feet before friction brought it to a stop.

The sports girls breathed a sigh of relief and expectation.

"That's it?! It's all over!" Bonnie whinged.

"How am I supposed to make a putt from there?" Liz asked her boyfriend.

"Wait for it …" the two experienced golfers said. Gravity finally overcame inertia and the ball began to roll down the slope again, slowly.

Jess climbed out of the trap and stood watching the ball, a smile on her face.

It picked up speed, climbed a small rise and changed direction. Now it was heading for the cup.

"Get in the hole!" Steve urged, echoed by the whole cheer squad side.

It rolled on and on until finally it dropped into the tin cup with a plunk.

Pandemonium erupted.

Jess thrust her arms in the air and turned to face her boyfriend who ran to embrace her. All the cheerleaders gathered around the couple, and hoisted them, still kissing, onto shoulders and paraded them around the green.

The sports girls were stunned. Two chances to clinch the contest snatched away.

The bus carrying the soccer girls had just delivered them to the opponent's field. When the golf ball dropped, Manni Pewlative snapped her phone in half with her bare hands and threw the pieces to the ground and jumped on them, spewing profanity. The coach promptly benched her and inserted a hard-working sophomore in her place.

Manni would never start for the Mad Dogs again.

The cheer squad and their fans partied at Farley's and raised lots more money for charity.

After the after party, the mini golf was closed and dark, but in the sixth-hole palace the Ronshine was glowing warmly.

"Jess was right," Kim said, during a break in the smooching. "I like this place better with more kissing and less golfing and absolutely no campaign planning."

"Blonde hair and freckles, KP. Sure signs of an expert in the Arts of Love. You should take her advice more often. And her wardrobe advice is badical too." Ron slid a long thumb into a well-placed slash in Kim's crop top and ran it slowly over what came into reach.

"Mmmm, I had this exact scenario in mind when I made that slash," she purred.

"I don't know, Kimila, if you can still pull out a school word I must be doing something wrong."

She lay down on her back and guided him on top of her.

"You're doing great, Ron, but if you want a bigger effect there's distress in the Daisy Dukes you might explore too."

He did, and soon all she could say was "booyah."

Elsewhere in town, Middleton's Wicked Witch of the Wedge was having a very wicked celebration with her coach.

Less "booyah," more "yee haw!" With extra haw.

to be continued …

All tied up. Six-on-six soccer for all the marble, plus the massaging jets and heated towel racks. Not to mention Hope's beloved makeup mirror. And what did the sports girls put up, anyway?

Who'll bring it?

Who'll be the scapegoat?

Will campy find a chapter title to top this one? (Magic 8-Ball says, "Outlook not so good" for that.)

Stay tuned!