And we're back in action. Without further ado, let's get back to the mission...
Chapter 10 - Heat of the Moment
"Here, try this mango smoothie," Ron suggested to the suffering bodyguard, who followed his advice. He seemed unimpressed by the taste of the drink, even if it was helping to overcome the effects of the extra-spicy diablo sauce. "Feeling better?"
"A bit," the man answered in his heavy accent.
"Well, drink up, unless you want to go against the Ronman in a hot sauce contest."
That seemed to be the missing motivator – the bodyguard quickly started drinking with enthusiasm. Ron saw Kim entering the kitchen, with a very satisfied look that screamed 'mission accomplished'. Too bad he couldn't tip his hand.
"Yo, KP, everything okay?"
"Spankin'. Just checking in to see if you need any help."
"Everything's cool here, the guys are pushing out the main courses now."
"In that case, I'll see you in a bit, come by the office when you have a moment."
"Count on it!"
She left in no obvious hurry and Ron turned his attention back to the ailing bodyguard. "And how're we doing here, all good?"
"Better, I think I should go back now."
"You sure? Well, if you change your mind, just come in here – careful not to bump into anyone – and get yourself another glass of this stuff."
"Thanks," he answered and began moving away.
Ron felt a need to keep stalling for a while, just in case the extra distraction might be needed. "Yo, before you go, since I got you into this trouble, can I get you anything special to eat?"
"What? Oh, no, I'm okay, thanks."
"You sure? We have a few nice steaks back here that we ended up not serving because we didn't have enough of them."
"No, really, I must get going."
"How about some salmon? I can get you an awesome salmon in just a few minutes."
"It's okay, really, thanks," was the bodyguard's final answer as he nearly ran out of the kitchen.
He's awfully on edge for such a comfy gig…
Ron turned his attention back to the kitchen, making sure that everything was on track and that the main courses were up to snuff. With all of the staff doing their jobs well and food being delivered on time and passing the taste test, he excused himself for a short break: He needed, or at least wanted to check in with Kim to learn the details of her end of the operation. He didn't expect to find the door to the chef's office wide open.
"I was hoping you might have seen something," he heard a woman say with a light French accent. If I don't find that card, I'll be locked out for at least a week until IT can get me a replacement."
Oh, crap.
Lacking any better ideas, Ron walked in and said, "Yo, KP, how're things going out here?"
Kim almost jumped at Ron, enveloping him in a fierce hug. After a moment, she whispered, "Inside pocket, left side. Take it."
Ron reached for the pocket, blindly searching for its opening. It was taking too long, and he felt the need to keep up appearances. He kissed Kim's cheek and whispered, "Sorry, just want to keep people from paying close attention to us."
"No big, it's working. She left the room. Do you have the card?"
"Yeah."
"Drop it off with security or something, just make sure she finds it before the night is over."
"You got it, KP."
Ron left the office and headed back to the table where the heist had originally happened. With no one paying close attention to him, he reached down, ostensibly to tie his shoelaces. He faked his best surprised look and took the 'found' card to the sign-in desk.
"Yeah, I'll make sure she gets it, thanks," the man at the desk said, taking possession of the card. "Say, did anyone ever tell you that you look like that kid who was on American Starmaker the other day?"
Much as he tried to hide it, Ron was certain that some of his internal panic was showing.
"What? On TV? No, I mean, me looking like a kid? The years haven't been that kind to me and oh-look at the time, kitchen needs me, thanks bye!"
Ron ran back to hide in his work. His staff was hard at work getting the desserts ready, and although he could trust them with something simple like chocolate mousse, he had to personally oversee the assembly of the Seven Layers of Heaven cakes. They were guaranteed to be a smash hit, so a whole section of the kitchen was being hastily reconfigured from the cod main course to a cake assembly line, ready to turn seven different types of cake and seven toppings into culinary masterpieces.
He himself brought out the first finished cake, at first not drawing much attention. This quickly changed as guests noticed the outlandish height of the cake and the lavish variety of flavors it promised. Kim must have caught wind of the commotion, as she soon joined the growing crowd. Unlike the other people present, her look carried no skepticism – she knew that it was more than eye candy.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Ron announced, "may I present Seven Layers of Heaven. Get it while it's here, I've seen restaurants shut down because it was just too good." He saw Kim giggle from the crowd, she pointedly looked into her purse at the culprit. "Don't worry, there's more coming. And no, the recipe is not for sale."
His joke got a polite laugh and he retreated back into the kitchen, where sous-chef Gary was closely examining another finished cake.
"Chef Ron, this thing is insane, I need to find a camera, or else my mates won't believe me."
"Oh, it's just a special something I came up with in high school."
Ron left the incredulous sous-chef behind and took another cake into the dining room – just in time because the first one was all gone. As he put it down, he heard Kim calling out to him, she was signaling him to join her, Bernard and the ambassador.
"Chef Ron," the latter said, "this has easily been the best food we've ever had here. I think the French are stealing ideas, not to be outdone by you, they sent someone to go grab a camera and they've been taking pictures and writing down notes all dinner."
"Hey, I'm all for better food for all."
"We're happy to help, it's been a lot of fun and definitely a different challenge for us," Kim added.
"Well, at the risk of celebrating too soon," Bernard said, "I was going to open a bottle of Port, 1988, a very good year, I'm told."
"Oh, I don't like to drink on the job," she answered.
"Well, you're practically done, and the night is a success, so I hope you'll make a small exception and join us."
Before she could come up with a coherent answer, Bernard handed her a glass.
"Ladies first, and one for our chef…"
"Thanks", Ron said with some unease. He looked at his glass, fortunately it didn't have all that much wine in it. He made a show of inspecting the bottle after Bernard put it down, the label read 'Graham's Malvedos 1988 Vintage Port'. '1988' and 'Port' were the only meaningful parts to Ron, so he just nodded along.
"Is this the one from the Channel Tunnel inauguration?" The ambassador asked.
"Indeed," Bernard answered, "I have a few more of these at home, you know that Humphrey actually…"
Ron tuned out of the conversation as he tried to drink the Port without looking like a fool. Kim seemed to be in the boat. They gave each other a look of 'here goes nothing' and finished their respective glasses. Things seemed to be winding down, with the waiters distributing espressos around the dining room. That also meant that Ron was finally done for the night, apart from some cleanup work.
Around midnight, he and Kim were driven back to their hotel. They walked to their room, taking the elevator in what seemed an endless ride. Kim opened the door to their room and went in, Ron followed close behind. He shut the door and leaned back against it, letting out a long sigh.
Kim was the first to speak, "That… Was way more intense than I thought it would be."
"Tell me about it, like, it wasn't even the physical part, it was the 'head in the game' part that was hard."
"Yeah. But it worked out and Wade got in. Speaking of whom…" She took out the Kimmunicator.
"Hey guys, great job tonight," Wade said.
"No big, just sitch us, Wade, we need to catch up on some sleep."
"Well, to keep a long story short, it turns out that GECC is not manufacturing the synthogoo. Best I can tell, some middle manager in Brussels figured that he could launder the product and ship it to the US."
"Why, not enough demand from the European supervillain community?" Ron quipped, drawing a curious look from Kim. "What? I'm just saying, they seem to have the US pretty beaten by number of bad guys. Like, if they had the Evil Olympics, they could show up with a genetically altered disgraced nobleman, a guy who golfs way too much, and all sorts of crazies in between."
"I… Don't have a good answer for you, Ron," Wade continued. "Anyway, I don't know just how much of the operation this guy was in charge of, we're going to keep digging. What we do know is that the synthogoo came from a chemical plant near Munich, and that it was probably produced there. Should I set things up? I can get you a flight at 11:30 AM tomorrow."
"Please and thank you, Wade," Kim answered. "Anything else of interest?"
"Not much, I've got an account name for the supplier, it's, uh, Munich Polymers, I guess, I'll put the original on the screen."
The company's logo appeared on the Kimmunicator's screen, a very basic, generic black company name that read 'Muenchen Polymere'.
"Their point of contact is a guy named –"
"Uh, quick question, Wade," Ron interrupted, "How come their logo doesn't use the normal spelling?
Wade was confused by Ron's question. "What?" he asked.
"I mean, typically they'd spell Munich with an umlaut, right? It's not like I know more than a handful of German words, but that's sort of sticking out at me."
"It might be nothing, but see if you can check with Dash what he thinks about it," Kim suggested.
"Will do. In the meantime, we'll see what else we can find out. Burn is taking the morning shift, so don't be surprised when he answers your calls. I'll be back by early afternoon your time."
"Alright, Wade, thanks for your help," Kim concluded.
"Thanks, have fun and sleep well!" He said before ending the call.
"Have fun?" Ron repeated incredulously.
"I know, right? He really needs to get out more if he thinks we have the energy to still go out and party or something."
"He must think airplane sleep is as good as even a crummy hotel bed…" Ron mused
"Yeah… Well, if you don't mind, I'm going to shower first, I guess you'll want to take a shower, too, after I'm done."
"KP, I smell every dish I made today on myself. What I really need is a car wash, but I'll take a shower as the closest available alternative."
"Since you mention that… How do I get you to make some of those desserts back home?"
"I guess it's just never come up…" Not without making things way too awkweird.
Kim was less than convinced by the answer, but she went into the bathroom rather than draw things out further. Ron sat down at the desk, looking to kill time until his turn to shower. Rufus was already fast asleep on his own tiny pillow on the desk, so Ron left him alone. His thoughts wandered for a while, but he was far too tired to really reach any conclusions about anything, and he was soon interrupted by Kim tapping him on the shoulder, announcing that it was his turn to shower. He did so without lingering or otherwise delaying, and by the time he was out of the shower and dressed, Kim was concluding a call to her parents.
"Wanna call your 'rents, tell them how're you're doing?" Kim asked, offering the Kimmunicator to Ron.
"Nah, it's okay, you know what they're like, ever so slightly more hands-off than normal. I'll just call them tomorrow, it's not like there's much going on back home on a Saturday, anyway."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, thanks anyway, KP," he answered while reaching for the extra pillows stashed away in the wardrobe.
"Ron, where are you taking those pillows?" Kim asked as he walked past the bed with them in hand.
"I'm taking the couch; you can have the bed. It's fine, I asked Wade to make sure we got a nice, big couch." He tried to lie down on the couch but had to bend his knees to fit – still, he made a point of forcing a smile. "See! We've slept in worse!"
"Ron, I am so not letting you sleep on the couch, it's not fair to you. Besides, it's not like we've never had to sleep in the same bed."
"Well, you might have heard that your dad threatened me with a black hole a few weeks ago, so I'd rather be on the safe side."
"Ron. A) He's not here to spy on you. B) As I'm told, the black hole was if you hurt me. C) It's none of his business anyway."
Kim's last point surprised Ron. It was far more adversarial than he was used to seeing her being in her interactions with her parents.
"So, just keep your hands to yourself and everything will be fine, and we can both have good night's sleep in a real bed."
Kim's reasoning was solid enough for Ron's logical side to overcome his natural panicked state. Still, he was going to make a point of sleeping as far left as the bed would allow. Any remaining anxiety was quickly overcome by exhaustion.
Something felt off. Not wrong, not at all unpleasant, but unexpected. The complete darkness made it clear that it was far too early to wake up – if not, some light would be making it past the curtains. Though they were heavy, neither Kim nor Ron had bothered to put in the extra effort needed to completely black out the room. No, the sun had not risen yet, and Ron was waking up at an unnaturally early hour.
It did not take him long to figure out what had disturbed his sleep. Ron was lying on his side, facing the window much like when he had fallen asleep – equal parts comfort and insurance against wandering hands. But now his movement was restricted. Kim was sleeping next to him, a fact that was only slightly surprising and only to a half-asleep Ron. The real surprise came from her sleeping position: she was cuddling him, holding him in a tight embrace. Ron hadn't really expected to be playing little spoon, especially after being told to keep his hands to himself.
So much for 'hands to yourself'… Hope you don't mention this to your dad, I'd hate to end up in a black hole because of something so silly.
All things considered, the black hole didn't look like a likely outcome.
Worth it, though.
Ron tried to clear his thoughts. He was getting ideas, and that could only end poorly. Kim was not interested in a more intimate relationship; she'd made that clear. Unfortunately, the moodulator incident had turned what were rare idle thoughts into a steady beat of fantasies – the shift had been quite sudden and dramatic: a series of dreams that started as his adventures as a barbarian (with a giant talking version of Rufus by his side) who beds nearly every attractive girl Ron knew in real life suddenly turned into a long quest to win Kim's love from the goddess she had pawned it off to in exchange for the power to reclaim her lost kingdom from Drakken's clutches (it shouldn't be surprising that the never be normal ethos extended to Ron's dreams). Still, this was his problem to deal with and he was not going to make things any more awkweird than they already were. Kim pointing up at the fireworks and her scowl at Ron's use of the word 'date' at Cousin Ruben's wedding had been quite enough of that sort of thing, especially in such a short time.
There was really only one option: to try and go back to sleep and pretend nothing had happened. Kim's used to sleeping with her Pandaroo and I guess you can't expect a sleeping person to be able to tell apart a human and a plushie. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. A few minutes later, he was asleep again.
If you're thinking, "man, those dreams of Ron's sound a lot better than this story!" you're in luck, because that's a story you can go read right now - Mr. Wizard's RONMAN THE BARBARIAN! [sic] My apologies to Mr. Wizard for pulling a Dallas with his story. One day, I too will figure out a way to cram in a songfic chapter based on a track from the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack album.